CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
AMBER COULDN’T DENY IT anymore.
She hated it here.
Her eyes welled, bitterness sharp and tangy in her throat as the realization reverberated through her. She had spent three hours in Noah’s home surrounded by a warm, loving family who had accepted her like one of their own. She had never felt a sense of belonging as strongly as she had there. Amber had been so sad to leave. Her brave face had almost crumpled when Mrs. Rhodes had grabbed her tight and whispered to Amber that she was welcome anytime.
Amber stood in the cold, silent house she had lived in for the last six years, wondering where all the warmth had gone, why she had never felt it here.
“What are you doing?”
She glanced up. Her mom paused on the staircase, one hand on the railing and the other clutching the skirt of her evening gown. Her brows rose when Amber remained silent, bringing her to the present.
“Nothing. I got back from seeing a friend,” she answered.
Her mom’s gaze raked over her. She took the last five steps, letting her gown pool around her feet when she was on even ground. “I called you earlier. You didn’t pick up.”
Amber tapped her purse. “My phone died. I forgot to charge it.” She had barely glanced at it after following Noah to his home, and noticed it was dead when she wanted to call Nigel. She had changed her mind and taken a taxi home instead, despite Noah’s insistence that he drive her back.
An answering hum left her mother. “You’re late for dinner. Tell Dottie to warm up the dishes. You can set the table.”
Her mom disappeared into the dining room before she could tell her she wasn’t hungry. Amber pulled off her shoes at the bottom of the staircase. Hanging her purse over the railing, she headed to the bathroom to wash up. In the kitchen, Dottie stood at the stove, stirring something that scented so delicious, it almost revived Amber’s appetite. Her face lit up when Amber came in.
“It’s good to see you up and about, dear. I’m glad your friends were able to cheer you up. I was getting worried. That’s not good for someone my age,” Dottie teased. Amber understood she was trying to clear the air but couldn’t hide her wince. She couldn’t imagine how Dottie must have felt seeing her bleeding out on the dance room floor.
“I’m sorry for making you worry.” Amber wrung her hands. “I felt lost in my head and I didn’t want to bother you. You didn’t need to see how much of a mess I really was.”
Dottie’s smile softened. “We’re all a mess, Amber. No one is perfect or strong or happy all the time. I’ve known you for years. For as long as I can remember, you’ve been all of that. It’s incredible. You’re stronger than you know.”
Her chest warmed. Dottie had been by her side even when it felt like the world had turned on her. She had gotten Amber to eat her meals, to leave her room and she had patched her up, no questions asked. Dottie had taken care of her, told her she loved her and was always there. Amber was ashamed she hadn’t appreciated such a wonderful woman more. Bursting with her emotions, Amber moved before she registered it, her arms raised as she hugged Dottie.
“Oh.” The elderly woman exhaled in surprise before she hugged her back, her scent warm and comforting. Was this it? The warmth she had been looking for? It wasn’t gone. She just hadn’t known where to find it. She sank into the woman that had been a pseudo-mother, comforter, guardian and companion.
“Thank you, Dottie. For everything. I love you.”
Amber couldn’t see her face but her voice was thick when she said, “Of course. I love you too.” Pulling back, they shared a soft smile. Dottie dried her eyes and pointed at the cupboards. “Let’s hurry up and set the plates. Your mom’s waiting on us.”
Amber laid a tray with plates, glasses and silverware as Dottie focused on the stove. Her mom’s gaze landed on her when she entered the dining room. She set their usual places, then stepped out again to fetch her mom’s tea and a water jug. Her hands shook as she placed the tea beside her mom’s plate. Dottie stepped in carrying their meal as she returned to her seat. The room fell quiet after she placed the food down and left. Amber twitched as her mother looked at her across the table. She had no idea what would come next and it made her nervous.
“I visited Helena at the theatre today.” Amber’s head rose. “She didn’t give me a choice since she’s been ignoring my calls,” her mom continued, her dry tone loud in the room. “I got there to find out that audition results were posted a week ago and practice has already begun.”
Amber had a feeling she knew where her mom was going with this. She already knew about Evelyn landing a role and was ecstatic for her. Was it necessary to know anything else? Her mom zeroed in on her, as though she’d read her mind. “Can you guess who took the lead role as Kitri?”
When she stayed silent, her mom’s lips curved tauntingly. “Your little friend. The other one with blonde hair.”
Amber’s stomach tightened. Lexi. For a minute, she struggled between happiness for her friend and anger for what she had done. It was Lexi’s fault she had gotten injured and for what, to steal the role from her? Her hands grasped at each other as she recalled all the times Lexi had watched her in class, her eyes following Amber across the room at every practice. She had naively thought Lexi was trying to learn the steps. She hadn’t wanted to ask Evelyn about the Kitri role because she hadn’t wanted to know. It hurt enough that all her hard work had been for nothing. But for it to have gone to her best friend who had put her out of the race with her own hands? It was a cruel joke indeed.
“It’s a shame, you know?” Her mom snarled. “That I have to explain how my daughter got replaced for a role she was guaranteed to have by her own friend who, might I add, began ballet after she did. Tell me, Amber, does that sound good to you?”
Her eyes fell away from her mom. Amber couldn’t stomach the anger she saw in them. It was one thing thinking about Lexi’s betrayal. It was another thing hearing about it from the person whose approval for the role she had yearned the most. Her mother had mostly ignored her the past few weeks, acting as though she was invisible. It wasn’t hard. They lived at opposite ends of the house and had their separate schedules. The only thing she and her mother shared anymore were their meals and practice in the dance room. A secret part of Amber thought she preferred the distance of the past couple weeks over having her mom’s gaze needle into her again.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I know I should have been more careful.” The words left her with less remorse than usual. “But there was no way I could have known Lexi would–”
“I don’t care. You’ve already failed me, Amber. Your apology does nothing to change that.”
She stiffened in her seat. Her mom was doing it again. She wasn’t listening to her, She wasn’t willing to hear her side. She’d talk over Amber, hurt her with her words, scrape over her heart without a single care in the world, like she had done in Principal Ellis’ office. Everything had gone tumbling down from there. Amber’s stomach twisted, as though her subconscious knew this conversation would not go well.
Her mother sighed, reaching for her tea. She took a sip, added a sugar cube and lifted her spoon to stir it. Amber watched, helpless to do anything else. Her mom’s eyes rested on hers. “Lucky for you, I’m interested in building your career when all you do is tear it down.”
She paused, her eyes gleaming as she said, “I’ve been in contact with a scout from the Paris Opera Ballet School. He’s been monitoring your performances and wanted to see you dance at the theatre. That obviously won’t go as planned but I convinced him that you could perform in his production.”
Amber was sure she wasn’t breathing. “His production?”
“Yes. You see, he happens to be a former ballet master at Opera Ballet so the Coppélia will be performed on their stage. You fly out next week to join their dance troupe.”
She definitely wasn’t breathing. Her mind spun with the information her mom had dropped. A performance in Europe? She was basically being shipped off to another continent to perform with professionals on a healing ankle. How long would she be away? What about school? Her friends? Noah?
A well of emotions, jagged and tangled, rose in her chest. Why would her mom do this? She hadn’t said a word to her while she made these crazy plans to ship her across the country. Did she even care about Amber’s opinion in any of this? Then she sat there and dropped the news like Amber was supposed to do nothing but smile, nod and get to packing?
Her skin felt hot and her eyes blurred as she stared at her mother, a thin smile across her face. She hadn’t smiled at Amber in years. Not at any of her performances or at her competitions. She hadn’t even smiled when Amber came home with second place from a regional competition that dancers all over the world struggled to enter. She didn’t smile when Amber showed her the variation she’d painstakingly learned, while juggling her classes and project. But here she sat, smiling at the idea of her daughter moving away.
“Drop that look from your face. You don’t know how good you have it. Not every dancer has someone who can pull these kinds of connections for them. I mean, a professional ballerina like myself as your mother. What more could you ask–”
“No,” The word fell from her lips without much coaxing.
Her mother stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“No, Mom. I’m not going anywhere.”
A disbelieving scoff split the air. “I’m sure I didn’t hear right. It can’t possibly be the cause of old age, so why don’t you repeat that for me?”
The challenge in her mom’s eyes was clear. She wanted Amber to correct herself. She wanted Amber to agree with her, to stay quiet as she controlled her life, made decisions for her and criticized every little thing she did. The perfect daughter in Amber wanted to submit but the anger swirling in her wanted out. The two battled out in the seconds that ticked by. Good thing the anger was louder.
Her voice was strong when she said, “I’ve let you dictate everything that I am. I have spent years measuring myself to your standards over and over. I have done everything you asked of me. All so I could be perfect like you want. When will it ever be enough?”
The words hung in the air between them. Her mom’s grip tightened around the cup still in her hand. “Enough? How dare you even ask me that after everything you–”
Amber had never once interrupted her mother her whole life. She was learning how easy it was to pick up new habits. Her chair slid back as she pushed out of her seat. “How dare I? I think I’ve more than earned the right to question you, Mom. I slaved away at your mercy, begging for even a drop of your affection. I hurt my friends and broke myself trying to appease you. For years, I jumped when you said, ran when you called, stayed quiet when all I wanted was to pour it out. Did you feel anything? Do you even regret treating me that way?”
“I will not be talked down to by my daughter in my own home,” Her mom’s voice was sharp but Amber ignored the knife’s edge and pushed closer.
Bitterness ran in her throat as she taunted, “I’m your daughter now? Not a wooden puppet you can constantly chip at with backhanded insults, disappointment and anger?”
Her mother’s eyes narrowed on her. Blue on blue. Icy eyes that burned with fiery anger.
“I will not entertain this conversation with you.” Her teacup met the table with a hard clink. Gripping her gown, her mother stood. “It seems you require a bit of rest from your day out. I expect you to start packing soon.” And then she turned and left the dining room.
Amber clutched her hair, tempted to rip it out. She cared so little even when Amber was spitting mad and on the edge of rage. Her mother was wrong. She wasn’t tired. In fact, she was the most fired up she had ever been. She followed her out of the room, quick on her heels.
“No.” The word felt too good on her tongue. “I’m not running away from getting to the bottom of this and neither are you. I want to know the truth! What did I do to cause your anger and deserve your hate? Answer me, Mom.”
She caught a glimpse of Dottie in the kitchen doorway, her face pale and concerned. Amber was too strung up to linger on it. Her mother turned at the base of the staircase, her teeth bared as she faced her. “Stop this behavior at once, Amber. This is not like you. You sound like a lunatic with all that screaming. Upstairs, now.”
Amber glared at the finger her mom pointed upwards. “I’m not a dog. Stop commanding me! I’ll stop screaming when you give me an answer. Or you don’t have one, do you? Are you telling me you’ve been making me suffer all this time for no reason?”
Somehow, the thought made her angrier. Her mother threw her arms and marched into the living room. Amber felt crazed as she paced after her. Her chest hadn’t stopped burning and she felt uncentered. Her head throbbed, her throat ached but she wasn’t letting this go.
“Are you scared? Is that it? You don’t have a silent puppet you can kick into the corner and ignore until it's playtime anymore?”
“Don’t paint me to the monster here. I was never the monster.” Her mother gritted.
“You are!” Amber screamed. “And I was blind to it the entire time. I thought I needed to bring you back. I wanted the mom who danced with me in the kitchen, the one who gave me kisses and read me bedtime stories. I wanted the person you were when Dad was still here.”
Something shifted in her mom’s face. The shoulder of her gown slipped as she shot her finger wildly in Amber’s face. “Don’t you dare bring him into this. You’ve done more than enough. Everything that happened was your fault.”
“You keep blaming me, but I have no idea what for. You don’t want to hear about Dad? Well, I didn’t want an emotionally unavailable Mom who hated me and acted like I was the worst thing to happen to her. We don’t get to choose what we want! You taught me that. You don’t want it thrown in your face? Tough! At least Dad isn’t here anymore, or he would have been the disappointed one.”
The scream that tore through the air wasn’t Amber’s this time. She stumbled back as her mother advanced. Dottie’s gasp came from behind her, her hands clutched to her chest as she watched mother and daughter, unsure of getting in their middle. Her mom stared daggers into her as red bled into the whites of her eyes.
“I said don’t talk about him.” The warning this time was clear and unmistakable.
A pinch of fear rose in Amber’s chest, but she had lived with the feeling for years. It was easy to ignore.
“Why not? He was my father and I never get to talk about him. It’s like he never even existed. No pictures of him, no clothes that smell like him. You brought us to this bare, empty house. You erased every trace of him!”
Her mom’s eyes flashed. “It was painful! It was too much to even think about him. You think it’s easy to look at you when I see him? Everything about you, the greenhouse, that stupid school, those stupid ballet costumes. I hate everything.”
A fissure cracked in Amber’s chest. One of relief or heartbreak, she wasn’t sure. “Then why didn’t you say anything? Why would you let me keep going? Why did you want me to keep suffering through everything when you couldn’t? Why, Mom?”
“Because you killed him. You killed my husband!”