Page 12 of Hide My Heart
“No, we still have over an hour.”
She touches my arm and rubs it. “I’ve been rude. I should thank you for all you’re doing. Sorry, I’ve been a pain.”
“That’s what friends are for.” I try to lighten the thickness weighing down my heart. “So, what’s it been like for you this past year or so?”
I do and I don’t want to know.
“It wasn’t what I thought it’d be.” Her voice is soft, almost weak. “Remember you used to sneak books from the library for me? I thought I’d go to the city, find a job, and go to college. I imagined being a missionary or teaching in a foreign country. I wanted to go to symphonies, plays, and museums. But the guy who said he’d give me a ride took me to a stinking cabin in the woods. I didn’t meet anyone and do anything fun. It was worse than staying home.”
What she’s telling me is killing me. “What about after you ran away from him?”
“It was hard. The doctor at the abortion clinic gave me the five hundred dollars Hunter paid and helped me sneak out the back. I bought a bus ticket and went to California. I got robbed and almost raped my first night there.”
My breath sizzles through my teeth. “That sucks. Why didn’t you call me? I could have gone with you. Helped you.”
“You have your mom and your businesses to run.” She avoids my gaze and turns toward the window. Her entire demeanor is defeated, so unlike the bright and hopeful girl who’d left town.
“I would have dropped everything. You should have called me from that cabin in the woods.”
That hellhole where the monster kept her trapped. I would have busted in and freed her. Right, that’s my boyhood fantasies speaking. Somehow, I always rescued Amber and became her hero. Not that I ever told her.
“He had no telephone.” Amber shrugs. “I got away the first chance I had. I did call you…”
“You did?” She did. It was that collect call last year.
“From the clinic, but the doctor came in and I dropped the phone. It’s okay, though. After I got to California, a nice lady pulled a gun on the robbers and she took me into a homeless shelter. She has me working at her coffee shop. I make a wicked latte.”
“That’s good.” My tongue is dry and dull. I still can’t believe she called me. If only I’d helped her earlier.
“I have some money in savings,” Amber continues. “My boss believes I can still go to college. Everything was going well until I heard about my grandmother getting sick.”
“What are you going to do?”
She rests her head on the seatback and sighs. The miles slip by and she doesn’t speak. Her mouth contorts and she blinks and breathes heavily, as if she’s struggling with a decision.
I let her be. Sometimes the best thing to do is to stay quiet and be there, not force a decision, no matter what I think.
“It’s going to be hard handing Beck to you,” she says in a small voice when we’re not even an hour down the road. “I don’t think I can leave him.”
I didn’t think she could either.
“He’s all I have. Maybe I can sneak back to town after you take him home to your mother. I could volunteer to help you take care of him.”
“That might work, but you should stay away a few days, maybe even a week.”
“That’s too long. My milk will dry up.” She sniffs and wipes a tear from her cheek, cuddling her baby. “I love him so much. Do you know what it’s like to love someone so much you’d give your life for them?”
I can’t say that I have. Sure, I’ve had a few girlfriends and I care about Amber, fantasize about her, but no, it wasn’t the same. So far, my life’s been an even keel. Manage the motel, tend bar, and hang out with my buddies—watch sports on TV, fish, and shoot pool.
“Is it hard being a parent all by yourself?”
She kisses the top of Beck’s fuzzy head and nuzzles him. “Hardest thing in the world. It’s like being on fire and drowning at the same time. I can barely take care of myself. I have no skills, no money, and here’s this little guy who depends on me. What happens if I get sick? What happens to him?”
I gulp and swallow a huge lump, but my throat doesn’t clear. The baby’s adorable, snoozing away with sweet, little snores.
“I wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.” She sniffs into his face and kisses him. “It must have been how my grandmother felt about me.”
She grows quiet. We drive on until we see the sign for Spokane, Washington.
