1
Amberlin sat in the booth in the diner near her apartment sipping on her second cup of coffee in an attempt to wake up even though it was close to eleven in the morning. They'd had a late gig the night before, and she'd been the only one awake when her hunger forced her out of bed and to the diner, leaving everyone else still asleep.
“Don’t turn around,” a voice behind her whispered so softly at first Amberlin thought she might have imagined it. Before the meaning of the words had registered, she’d already started turning.
“I said, don’t turn around," the voice said again much more loudly and this time recognizable. It was the mystery lady from the other night. Ignoring the command, Amberlin turned in her seat and gazed into the steel gray eyes of her grandmother Rose—her supposedly deceased grandmother who sat in the booth next to hers apparently alive and kicking.
“You never were very good at following orders,” Rose said, but with a smile that cushioned the comment.
“How in the world...? What are you...” Amberlin started and stopped, flabbergasted by Rose’s appearance. She slid out of her booth and slid in across from Rose.
“The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” Rose replied with a chuckle, “but also necessary and intentional,” she added.
“But how?” Amberlin asked as she reached over and clasped Rose’s hands and squeezed them tightly. Rose briefly explained how Ben had saved her life by helping her to escape the fire by hiding in the root cellar.
“That’s why this is so hard to have to say,” she added at the end of the story.
“What’s that?”
“Ben is treating you wrong,” Rose replied.
“Well, I know we have our arguments from time to time...” Amberlin started.
“That’s not what I mean,” Rose interrupted. “He’s been in touch with his folks and letting them know what’s going on with you.”
“No way,” Amberlin said, shocked by the news. “How? Why?”
“I’ve caught him making calls to them. I can only imagine why. I’m afraid he’s up to no good.”
Amberlin sat there feeling her anger grow at the thought that one of her best friends could betray her this way.
“The Stovers are very good at getting over on people,” Rose added. “Believe me, I know. Missy Stover had me convinced for years that she was my best friend and only had my best interest at heart. Meanwhile, she used and manipulated me, which is part of the reason I decided it best to fake my own death.”
“I see,” Amberlin said. “But it was Ben’s idea to go out on the road like this.”
“Well, I think Ben is a troubled boy. Conflicted might be a better word to describe him. I think he really likes you, but at the same time, he feels compelled to do what his mother expects of him. Missy has a particularly strong though misguided power to persuade and manipulate, and she's not afraid to use it on her friends or family members."
As the two of them sat there holding hands, Amberlin could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and her heart ached. They had all been through so much together these past several months while on the road.
At that moment, Ben walked through the front door. Seeing Amberlin, he waved and started towards her, but then stopped as he noticed who she was sitting with. His smile wavered for a moment then broke out into a wide grin.
“If it isn’t Mrs. Gentry as I live and breathe,” he said as he resumed approaching the table then stopped once more, his face contorting into a mixture of confusion and doubt. “Wait a minute. Were you in the bar the other night? Hey, have you been following me?”
Rose and Amberlin both stared at him without either saying a word. A long pregnant pause later, Ben finally shook his head. “Now, if you’ll give me a minute I can explain everything.”
“I bet you can,” Amberlin fairly screamed at him. “You Stovers have a knack of explaining everything no matter how bad it looks. Unfortunately, those explanations are always packed with lies and deceit. But you’ve run out of rope this time, Mr. Ben Stover. I’m through with you.”
Ben started to take a step forward to slide into the booth, but Amberlin threw up a hand in a gesture of a traffic cop. “Stop right there. Turn yourself around, go to the apartment, get your stuff packed and get the hell out of my life. I’ll give you an hour. If you or your stuff is still there when I get back, I’ll call the police. Is that understood?”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Ben replied with just a moment of hesitation. “The police might be more interested in Spooks than me, especially when I explain who she is.”
Amberlin felt something letting go within her. It felt like all her control was leaking out from a myriad of cracks in her makeup—cracks that had been forming for months as she realized that Ben had been deceiving her for close to a year. She felt Rose squeeze her other hand more tightly. She paused and took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.
“You’re right,” she finally replied. “We’ll keep the police out of this. I’ll let Tattoo and a few of his friends take care of you. He’s offered to do so more than once. Of course, I doubt he’ll be nearly as gentle as the boys in blue.”
Amberlin watched as the blood drained from Ben's face. He'd already had a few close calls with Tattoo and his other band members. Ben slowly nodded, then shrugged. "Okay, if that's how you want it." He turned to walk away but stopped before reaching the door. "You know I'll have to take the van, and that will leave you without any transportation."
“Fine," Amberlin answered. "Just make sure all of my stuff, as well as Hannah's and Spook's, is out of it."
“What if Hannah decides to come with me?” Ben asked.
“She’s on her own now and can make her own decisions,” Amberlin replied. Though the thought did trouble her, there was nothing she could do about it now.
Ben nodded again. “Okay, see you around.”
“Not if I see you first,” Amberlin replied.
––––––––
2
AFTER BEN HAD LEFT the diner, Amberlin sat in the booth across from Rose and stared down at her hands. She felt the first tears escape from the lids of her eyes and trickle down her face. She felt her grandmother’s hands squeeze her own.
“I’ve really done it now,” Amberlin finally said with a sniffle and cough. “No guitarist for the group, no van, and maybe no backup singer. What am I going to do now?” She looked up at Rose who smiled back at her.
“You'll do what the Gentry women have done for generations when life gets hard. You'll go on. You'll persevere, and in the process, you'll grow stronger."
“But I’m almost out of money, and I’ve effectively broken up the group, so I’m probably out of a job as well.”
“Maybe, but you don’t know that for sure,” Rose replied. “Listen, I’m here for you, and I don’t really think you want me to buy into your limitations. Papa Herb, may he rest in peace, never did, and I’m not about to do it this time. So, who do you need to check with to see if you still have a job or not?”
“That would be Paula at Club 47. I know my teaching job is still okay, but it doesn’t pay all the bills.”
“Well, as far as the bills go, I can help you out there,” Rose replied, patting Amberlin’s hand. When Amberlin opened her mouth to protest, she added, “Consider it a loan or an investment in your future. It’s what grandparents do. Besides, I have some making up to do with you. Let this be a start.”
Amberlin finally managed a smile. “Okay. Thanks, Grandma. I really appreciate it, but you know that’s not the biggest thing. I’ve come to really love singing. I’m going to miss it.”
“And why would you say that?" Rose replied. "Just because you may have to reorganize your group is no reason to quit now. I've heard you sing." Amberlin looked up at her. "Yeah, yeah. I've hidden in the back of the room a few times," Rose continued. "You're good...no, you're better than good. You're fantastic. Like I said, I'm investing in your future—your future as a folk singer."
The two of them paused as the waitress approached their table, and Rose ordered a coffee as the waitress refilled Amberlin’s cup. After she left, Rose continued. “What was it that Papa Herb told you so often? Something about you having a divine destiny, wasn't it?"
Amberlin nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, I think your music ability plays a significant role in that, so you can’t let this bump in the road stop you. I simply won’t allow it.”
Amberlin smiled at that last statement. “Oh, you won’t, will you?”
Rose chuckled. “No, I won’t. There’s an old saying. ‘It’s always darkest before the dawn.’ Well, I have a feeling your dawn isn’t that far off. So, let’s have one last cup of coffee, then you head back to the apartment and see how many folks are still there. If Hannah is gone, I’ll start practicing the tambourine.”
The two Gentry women looked at each other for several seconds then burst out laughing.