Part 16 (1/2)

I could almost hear her response. Well, Amy Nicole, wait up for him. Don't let him hide. Try talking to him instead of just listening to him shuffle through the house. Tears stung my eyes as the voice I never forgot whispered through my heart. And don't forget, he loves you. He loves you so much.

When I left, I felt the keen reminder that I still had a parent, even if he'd gone AWOL. And, the new and improved, comes-out-of-the-shadows Amy was going to try to get him back.

That night, heavy footfalls trudged up the stairs outside my bedroom door. I'd been waiting and it was time to spring... in a completely loving way, of course.

”Hey, Dad?”

He stopped, his body turned away toward his room. I saw the moment he wished he'd kept going before his shoulders kind of drooped-like defeat or something-before he lowered his briefcase to the floor and turned to face me.

”Yes?”

Okay. So. Yeah, not so promising.

”I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.”

A shoulder hitched up before he turned to face me. It's not my fault he was coming in so late. If he wanted to look at his watch, go ahead. Whatever.

”What about?”

Here we go. I needed a parent. Not just any parent, but the one that was here. I needed my dad.

”I wanted to talk about Mom-”

He paled and his gaze turned out, past me. Not only was he not looking at me, but he didn't even see me there. A big curtain of invisibility had fallen between us before I could even make my plea.

”Amy, you know how I feel about that.”

I did know. Mom was off limits. A non-topic. The day she died it was like a switch flicked in my dad. Like he had to make as if she'd almost never been... while I had to hold on tighter to her memory.

”I just wanted to talk to you about-”

His hand cut through the air. ”Stop. We're not going to rehash the past. There are things that are just-” The word died on his lips. He sucked in a breath. ”Amy. It's late. Some of us have to go to work tomorrow.”

I almost said, Some of us choose to go to work and not talk to our daughters, but he was already edging away.

He picked up his briefcase. ”Go to bed.” His voice had softened, but his tone hadn't.

”But, Dad-”

”Amy. Go to bed.”

Before I could say another word, his door was closing. I should never have mentioned Mom, but I hadn't known how else to start. How to get him to talk to me. How to make him love me again without her.

I turned away from my own room, knowing I wouldn't be sleeping for a while.

Wandering downstairs, I headed toward the back porch where my paints were. But, as I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the moon s.h.i.+ning in the front window caught my attention and pulled me into the front room. Mom's room. All the homey knick-knacks and comfy furniture still sprawled about in measured shambles of a well-loved, well-used room.

The light illuminated the overstuffed loveseat in the corner where she used to read each afternoon as she waited for me to get home. Missing her more now and knowing I'd never get to my dad, I shuffled in and curled up on the chair. Pulling the hand-knitted afghan over my shoulders, I wrapped it around me, almost smelling her there with me-and tried to fall asleep.

I guess there really is something to being with your mom, because just when I thought I'd never sleep again, I was dreaming about oil colors blending on canvas.

Chapter 20.

I slapped the alarm clock again, wondering why the sleep-piercing sound continued. Another ring jolted me before I realized it was my cell phone. Late nights and comfort chocolate did not make for a good Sunday morning.

”h.e.l.lo?” I croaked.

”Babe, what are you doing tonight? I thought we could, you know, get our runs in together.”

I shot up in bed and looked at the number on my cell. Sure enough, it said ”Chris.”

My heart dropped and then double-timed. Maybe his apology had been sincere. Maybe he really was trying. He was calling me. He wanted to be with me.

Luke Parker was on the other side of town not trying.

”Sure. I can go for a run today.”

”Great. I was thinking, you know, we could go this evening, after it starts to cool down. Maybe talk a little?”

”Yeah, that sounds-oh wait. No. I can't go tonight.” I glanced at the clock. It was only quarter of eight. Who called at quarter of eight on a Sunday morning? ”How about this morning before the day gets going?”

”Yeah. No can do. I've got plans today. Just move whatever you're doing tonight.”

I glanced at the clock again as if the time could s.h.i.+ft and we could fit everything in.

”I don't think I can.”

I thought about Rachel and Jared and their newfound relations.h.i.+p. If I didn't go tonight, I could miss the whole thing knowing how quickly those two made decisions... or she could run off and elope with him. Where was the nearest state that wed people over sixteen without parental consult?

And I'd promised Justin. He was convinced if I saw Luke again without Katie-now that I had the whole story Justin-style-I'd be as instantly in love as Rachel.

Of course, instant love usually led to instant unlove-especially in Rachel's case. She wasn't exactly a relations.h.i.+p-role model. Dating expert? Yes. Lasting past week three? Not so much. Not that I was looking for either with Luke.

Luke was too confusing, too overwhelming. It didn't matter what I felt around him, because those feelings had to be him swamping me with new emotions. Not like with Chris. Anything I thought I felt for Luke didn't have the long-term constancy of how I felt about Chris.

But, the thought of Luke and that Fury's tiny-little perfect fists pounding on his chest yesterday suddenly had me angry enough to want to check on him. To make sure his Mr. Manners routine hadn't let her bruise him up.

Luke Parker. c.r.a.p.

”Come on, babe. What could be more important than us hanging out?” It had to be my imagination, but I thought I heard a slight whine in his voice.

”I actually have a party to go to. I just got invited last night.” I tried to shrug it off. ”You know, one of those last minute things.”

”A party?”