Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Derek
A mber’s here tonight, but her mind’s somewhere else. It has been for a few days. I need to talk to her about it.
Did I do something wrong?
Is she stressed?
She’s setting the table for dinner, her movements mechanical, eyes distant as if she’s turning something over and over in her head. I notice it when she doesn’t laugh at one of Casey’s jokes about her history test today. Amber usually catches all the little things with the kids, like it’s second nature to her.
“I got the lead in the play,” Casey announces to all of us.
“Oh, Case, that’s amazing,” I tell her.
Amber hugs her tightly. “I’m so proud of you.”
We celebrate for a few minutes, but Amber’s heart is clearly not in it.
“Hey,” I say gently, coming over to her as she arranges the silverware, “everything okay? You seem a bit out of it.”
She blinks, like she’s coming back to reality, and gives me a quick, slightly forced smile. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just… wedding prep on my mind. Bree’s got me doing a lot of last-minute running around. You know, the usual craziness.”
She won’t look me in the eye when she says it, and a sliver of unease cuts through me. I’ve seen that look before—the way she avoids my gaze, brushing it all off. Sharon used to do that all the time when she was hiding something.
But Amber’s not Sharon.
“Alright, if you’re sure,” I say, giving her space to say more if she wants. But she just nods and keeps setting the table, dodging my gaze. I don’t press her, but I’m not dropping it either.
As we sit down to eat, I try to steer the conversation to something light, hoping to draw her out.
“Amber,” I say, a playful grin tugging at my mouth, “you ever do anything embarrassing in school that you still cringe about? Casey was just telling me about a project that didn’t go as planned.”
She chuckles, setting down her fork. “Oh, there were plenty of cringey moments, trust me. But I remember this one time in sixth grade, I was in a play. It was supposed to be this grand production, but let’s just say I tripped over my own feet, knocked down the entire backdrop, and ended up breaking my ‘crown’ in half. I think it was during some big knight and princess scene.”
Casey’s eyes light up. “Wait! That was The Enchanted Quest ! My mom told me she was in that play too when she was a kid! She said it was the biggest production their class ever did.”
Amber goes silent for a second, and her smile wavers. She glances at her plate, almost like she’s trying to avoid the memory. I notice it—that fleeting tension.
“Oh yeah, I remember her talking about that,” Eric interjects. “I messed up my words in a Christmas program once, and Mom told me a story about getting beat out of the lead for a play, and the girl they chose tripped over her own feet and took down the whole set. She told me that it could always be worse.”
Amber shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
“Yeah, well, sometimes jealous people like to undermine others,” she mumbles before taking a long drink of her water.
“What do you mean?” Casey asks incredulously as she tilts her head to the side.
“It’s just…sometimes people can’t handle other people winning, so they’ll do whatever they can to make someone else look bad. You won’t have to worry about that, though, so I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Amber replies quickly.
“So you were… both in that play?” I ask, keeping my tone easy but watching her reaction closely. “You and Sharon.”
Amber laughs, though it sounds a bit forced. “Yep, it was a huge deal back then, I guess.” She glances over at Casey, adding, “Your mom and I…well, we were friends when we were younger.”
Casey perks up, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Were you close?”
She clears her throat and shakes her head, giving a tight smile. “Not exactly. We… grew apart over time, you could say. Eric, is your next game at home?”
“Yes, ma’am. Coach says I’m starting,” Eric replies excitedly.
Amber grins widely, and the two of them begin talking football. I can tell that she is changing the subject, but I’m not certain why. Sharon always talked about how she was the homecoming queen and cheerleading squad captain but not your typical popular girl. She seemed to have a lot of friends in town, too. I would imagine that she and Amber would be great friends today.
I mean they’re complete opposites, but they would even each other out.
I’m getting that familiar sense again, the same unease I felt earlier, though I try to shake it off. Amber isn’t Sharon; I don’t want to jump to conclusions.
After dinner, once the kids are asleep, I find Amber leaning against the counter, her fingers fidgeting with a stray thread on her sweater. Her quietness hangs heavy in the air between us.
“Amber,” I start, keeping my tone soft, “about earlier…you seem distant tonight. Are you sure everything’s alright?”
She looks away like she’s trying to find the right words, but when her gaze meets mine, there’s a guardedness I haven’t seen before. “Derek, I told you, I’m just helping Bree with the wedding. That’s all.”
There it is again, that wall. I can feel it, and I can’t ignore it this time.
“Listen,” I say, choosing my words carefully, “you don’t have to hide anything from me. If there’s something more, you know you can tell me.”
“There isn’t anything more.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you and Sharon were friends? I guess I didn’t think to ask.”
“We weren’t friends.” She laughs dryly.
“But you were the same age.” I shake my head, realizing that something is wrong by the way she’s snapping back at me, and the irritation finally takes over. “Sharon used to do this, too. She’d be mad about something, and instead of talking to me like a grown-up, she’d expect me to figure it out. I’m not doing that.”
“ I am not that bitch ,” she says in a seething tone.
I’ve never heard so much venom in Amber’s voice before, and I take a step back. I look at her in shock, and her eyes immediately drop to the floor. She turns around and faces away from me.
She takes a deep breath, her hand drifting to her forehead as she leans back. “Alright, fine. You want to know about Sharon and me? Since Casey brought it up?” She lets out a small, bitter laugh, and I can hear the tremble in her voice. “We weren’t exactly close, Derek. In fact, your late wife pretty much made my life hell growing up.”
I blink, caught off guard. “What?”
“She was… competitive, manipulative… she liked having control over people. If she saw someone as a threat, she’d make sure they knew it.” Amber’s voice is quiet but laced with something I can’t quite place. “I was that ‘someone’ for her. And she didn’t let me forget it.”
My gut twists as I try to process her words. This doesn’t align with the Sharon I knew, but the bitterness in Amber’s voice sounds painfully real.
“Did something happen between the two of you?”
“Not to my knowledge. I stayed the night with her one night, and the next day, she was like a pod person. She’d never tell me what happened, just make fun of me when I asked. If I was dating someone, she’d hit on them and try to get them to break up with me. If a guy made it known he liked me, she’d throw herself at them. If I was trying out for something, she’d do everything in her power to get me to fail. She spread lies about me every chance she got. The play we were talking about? She tripped me and then shoved me so that I made a fool out of myself. She dumped manure on me in another play.”
“What? I’m really sorry. I can’t imagine…Are you sure?”
She puts her hand up in the air quickly. “It would be in your best interest not to finish that sentence.”
“Amber,” I protest as I take a step toward her. “That doesn’t sound like her at all.”
Her face hardens, her expression unreadable. “I’m sure it doesn’t. People see what they want to see, Derek.”
“Maybe you misunderstood and…”
She shakes her head and pulls away from me completely.
“Shoot, you know what? I promised Bree I would meet her for coffee in the morning before school, and I…I left something at my house. I’ll…see you tomorrow.”
“Amber!” I say quietly as I reach for her.
She doesn’t stop but dodges my touch.
What is happening right now?
“Hey, I’m sorry if I said something that upset you. Can we talk about this?” I ask as I follow her out on the front porch.
She opens her mouth and closes it almost immediately as if she’s swallowing the words she wants to say.
“You know, I’m just really stressed and not feeling well. That’s all. I need to get home, and…I just need to go.”
I start to call after her, but it’s pointless right now. Something has her spooked, and we can talk about it tomorrow. For now, I’ll give her the space she clearly needs.