Page 38 of Vodka and Chocolate Drops

“He’s very good at it,” Amber said, resting a hand temporarily over Scott’s. “Really. And he runs an animal shelter, too. Every spring and fall he always finds good homes for all the unwanted kittens.”

Scott’s cheeks became tinged with pink.

“Do you have any kids?” Amber asked her sister. She had a feeling she didn’t, but still hoped there were little nieces and nephews she could spoil. She’d always assumed it was a privilege she’d never have.

“No, but we’re thinking about it.”

“How long have you and your husband been together?”

“Darren and I have been sweethearts since high school. We dated all through college over in Oxford--I love England--then we came home, got married and started our own business.”

“Wow.” Someone had definitely hogged the family’s lucky-in-love good juju.

“How long have you two been together?” Delia asked, flicking a shiny nail between Amber and Scott.

“Oh, we’re just friends.” The heat that poured into Amber’s face was probably telling Delia stories she didn’t want revealed. Assuming there were stories. Which there weren’t. They were friends. Friends who kind of had inappropriate thoughts about each other. Or at least she did. Increasingly often.

“Sorry. You must be very close friends. You’re obviously very comfortable around each other.”

“Best friends since the day I moved to town as a kid.” Scott gave Amber an affectionate ear tug. “Amber stayed in at recess and made me a valentine so I’d have one.”

“He moved on Valentine’s Day,” Amber added.

“That’s sweet,” her sister said. “Blueberry Springs sounds incredible.”

“It is pretty nice,” Amber agreed. “I’m hoping to move back to the city soon, but the town’s pretty good. It’s where I grew up, and there are festivals and fairs. Stuff like that. And the people look out for each other and make it feel like home, I guess. You know small towns.”

“Why would you move back to the city?” Delia asked. “The place sounds sweet.”

“Well, I just think…” Amber paused. How could she explain to her sister that she felt as though there were more opportunities to be someone other than she was, without making it sound as if she was ungrateful for all their mother had done?

“Whydoyou want to move back?” Scott asked quietly.

“Uh, jobs?”

“You don’t like yours any longer?”

“What do you do?” Delia asked.

“Database management. And the job is fine. I can do it anywhere. I just like the fact that nobody is in my business in the city, I guess. There’s freedom to reinvent yourself frequently.”

Not that she was eager to reinvent herself again, seeing as last time she’d ended up in a book. Sometimes it was just easier to be herself. Which was the nice thing about Blueberry Springs. She had the same old routines. Everyone knew her and could predict when she’d want a slice of pie, and she didn’t have to explain anything to anyone back home. They already knew, and there was surprising comfort in that.

Plus the people in Blueberry Springs really weren’t so bad. They meant well and had been pretty supportive about the book. Mary Alice had even stopped selling it in her store once she realized how much it bothered Amber.

She’d moved to the city in hopes of becoming someone “big.” And she had. Although making it “big” in Russell’s book hadn’t been great so far. She’d prefer to feel important, valued, and as though she made a difference. She wanted to be someone people counted on, wanted, and needed. Someone who would be missed.

She hadn’t had that in the city. In fact, none of her friends there had contacted her after the book had come out other than to send a few texts asking if she wanted to come to a party. Amber had seen them for what they were--not asking if she was okay or how she was doing, simply wanting to leech her semi-fame. Well, they could have it. She wanted to be more than a pawn, where once her service was over she’d get knocked off the game board and they’d all continue on without her.

“We should probably go,” Scott said, standing. “Thank you for the tea. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“What’s our mom like?” Delia asked, stepping forward, her eyes so full of unexpected need that Amber leaned into Scott, looking at him to guide her through this.

“She’s…” She couldn’t say a “great mom,” because what if that made Delia feel as though she’d lost out? Amber didn’t want to say “waitress” and have Delia judge her for that. “You’ll have to meet her. She’s nice.”

“I would love that so much. Can I meet her soon? Does she know we’re emailing? I’m free tomorrow. I know that’s sudden, but after all this time waiting and hoping, it’s just so hard to wait any longer.”

“I know, but, well, it’s… complicated.”

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