A Game Of Three: Between Love And Death

Amber

One day—fourteen years, three months, and sixteen days ago to be exact—Elizabeth took her two-year old daughter Freda Rivers to a low-cost daycare center down the street from the diner she was waitressing at.

According to her, she was holding a red plastic tray with four Cokes, three cheeseburgers, and a chicken salad on it when her phone went off in her apron.

Somehow, she knew something was wrong. The first line of her book sums it up: In my stomach, I could feel it, a primal fear as cold as the snow and ice that kiss the Cascades.

Elizabeth dropped the tray to the floor and started running in kitten heels and an apron. By the time she got to the parking lot of the daycare, panting and shaking and sweating, she saw the red and blue lights of a police cruiser.

She never made it inside, falling instead to the pavement outside the cheery yellow walls of the building and screaming.

That’s the day Freda Rivers became Amber Cross.

“You’ve got your own bathroom, too,” Elizabeth gushes all a sudden, like she can’t bear to leave just quite yet.

She moves over to a shiny white door on sliders, like the barn doors at home in my grandparents’ house. Only, this one looks space-age.

It’s shiny and perfect, and I don’t see any sort of handle. Elizabeth seems able to slide it open with just a few fingers.

I step forward and peer into the room, finding it just as sterile and cold as the bedroom. At least there’s black marble on the floors instead of white, and the shower is big enough for four.

A bathtub rests in the center of the room, with windows all along the wall. That’s the only thing I see that makes me feel any better. A bath in that giant tub, looking out at the water and the city lights across the lake, that should help a little.

But only a little.

I’d do anything to go home and soak in the old clawfoot tub in my grandparents’ house.

“Gabriel will be home soon, with the rest of your siblings,” Elizabeth adds, and I can hear the slightest warble of nervousness in her smooth voice. “If you’re too tired to meet them tonight, we can go out for breakfast …”

“That’d be fantastic,” I blurt, wrestling my rebellious lips into forced smile Number One-Thousand.

If Caden is any sort of indication as to the reception I’m going to get here, I’d much rather wait until morning. Elizabeth’ face falls a bit, but she, too, manages to maintain a smile.

“Sleep well, Freda,” she breathes wistfully, and then we both freeze up completely, any pretense of normality flying out the window. “I’m sorry, I meant … Amber.” Elizabeth pauses awkwardly as I do my best to swallow past the lump in my throat.

“It’s okay. We’re both working our way through this,” I respond with all the politeness my grandparents taught me but with absolutely zero sincerity.

On the inside, I’m screaming. Why couldn’t you just leave me alone? Why couldn’t you just leave me where I was happy?

Elizabeth nods once, her smile faltering just a little, before heading for the bedroom door. She glances over her shoulder one more time before leaving, but whatever it was she intended to say dies on her lips.

“Goodnight … Amber.”

Elizabeth steps into the hallway, closing the door behind her. I don’t hesitate more than a handful of seconds before moving over to it and locking the handle.

I toss my backpack on the floor and then flop down on the bed, putting my face in my hands. I don’t cry. I’ve cried enough over the last several weeks. Instead, I gather myself together and pull my phone out of the pocket of my hoodie.

It’s hard to fathom the facts: that my family—that is, the Cross family—is legally obligated to refrain from contact with me for an entire year. So I’ll have time to adjust, Elizabeth says.

Personally, I think that’s the most awful and wicked thing anyone has ever done to me. I video-call my grandparents, but nobody answers. I can only imagine Elizabeth’ scary expensive lawyers and fancy legal documents are keeping them from picking up. Doesn’t stop me from texting them though.

I miss you guys, and I want to come home. I send that off, and I don’t care if that makes my grandfather cry again. I need them to know how much I want out of this place.

Next, I video-call my sister, Elena.

She, on the other hand, isn’t intimidated by anyone or anything.

“Amber!” she calls out, appearing on my screen with a smile. We used to say we had matching smiles—the same small mouth and full bottom lip, a thin bowtie shaped upper lip.

Guess it was all bullshit, huh? God, you sound bitter. Don’t do that to yourself, Amber. There’s no sweetness to be found if you keep chewing on the same old sour crap. “Where are you right now?”

“My new bedroom,” I say, my voice strained and forlorn. I lift the phone up and pan it around so Elena can see what I’m working with here.

Multimillion-dollar views and about as much love and warmth as a block of ice. I turn the phone back to my face. “Elena, I can’t do this.”

Her face softens as she sits down on the edge of her own bed.

“It can’t be all bad, right? Moving in with a famous author and a plastic surgeon? You could probably guilt-trip them into buying you a sportscar.” Elena puts a hand to her chest, the phone jiggling around as she clutches it in her other. “A Ferrari. A white one with a red leather interior—”

“Elena,” I scold, but I’m smiling anyway. I knew talking to Elena would help. Besides, unlike my grandparents who are a forty-two-hour drive away from me, Elena is going to the University of Oregon in the city of Eugene which is only four and a half hours south of here.

We’re actually closer now than we were when I was living at home. Silver linings and all that. “You’re probably right, but I don’t want a Ferrari; I want to go home.”

“I know, Amber,” she says, her body deflating just a bit. “I don’t like any of this either, but you know what?”

“What?” I lie back on the bed, staring up at the screen and wishing my sister were here to wrap her arms around me the way she used to do when I was little.

That’s my very first memory, of Elena smiling at me and stroking my hair back while I sobbed. I don’t remember anything about my life with Elizabeth before that, when I was named Freda Rivers. Not a damn thing. Not surprising, considering my age at the time.

And still, the scent of her perfume lingers. I choke a little on the thought.

“This doesn’t make us sisters any less, you know that, right?”

“Blood is thicker than water,” I spit out, and then cringe. There I go, being bitter again. But maybe I’m just not giving myself enough credit? This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

“Wrong. That’s one of the most misused quotes in the entire world. The real quote is: the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. What it really means is that the family you choose is stronger than the family you’re born to.”

Elena pauses for a moment as my eyes water, and I blink back the tears I promised I wouldn’t shed.

“Hey, how about I come and visit you next weekend? I’d come sooner, but I have a paper due.”

“The lawyers …” I start, and Elena snorts, tossing her auburn curls. We always used to say she took after grandma while Mom and I took after grandpa with his espresso-colored hair. Irony, at its finest.

“Fuck lawyers, Amber. I’m not about to let some suit-wearing bigwigs tell me I can’t see my little sister. Besides …” She pauses and gives me such a goofy grin that I just know I’m about to hear about a boy. Elena is so predictable. I smile.

“This is about Maxx—the boy with two X’s in his name, right?” I ask with a roll of my eyes. Maxx Wright is a fellow student at the U of O, some motocross superstar, and the exact opposite of any boy Elena has ever gone out with. I have yet to meet him, but I hear good things.

“I’m going to bring him with me,” Elena declares, grinning. “You can just call him X, like I do. That way we don’t have to worry about any confusion.” She leans back on her bed, so that our positions are mirrored. Four and a half hours away, but just alike, as always. “You’ll like him, Amber, I know you will.”

“I don’t doubt that,” I say, my thoughts straying to my new stepbrother, Caden. “Speaking of boys, I just met one of my new brothers.”