Page 40 of Dark Roads
“Can you say a prayer for Hailey?”
“Still no word?”
“Not yet.” Amber’s voice was vague, the tone she adopted whenever she talked about Hailey now. Beth wanted to saysomething reassuring, but she also didn’t want to mislead her. She’d texted Amber as soon as she saw on the news that they’d found Hailey’s bicycle and her cell phone.Are you okay?Amber had answered,I think she did it on purpose, to throw people off track. Her uncle is scary.Maybe, but Beth feared the rumors were probably true.
“Why don’t you come for a visit? You can say a prayer yourself.”
“My tires are bald. I’m waiting for my next paycheck.”
“I hate that you are in Cold Creek.” Only Amber would drive to the Yukon to meet friends at a music festival, then stop for gas in the creepiest town and wind up instead getting a waitressing job. For the first couple of months Amber’s Instagram had been full of pictures of her doing yoga poses beside rivers and on rocky cliffs. She hadn’t posted anything since Hailey disappeared.
“I don’t hitchhike, but yeah, I hate it too.”
That was new. Maybe Amber wasn’t feeling as hopeful as Beth had thought.
“Are you moving back to Vancouver?”
“Not sure. I might still go up to the Yukon.”
“And do what? Teach yoga to grizzly bears?”
Amber laughed. She never seemed to get offended by Beth’s sarcasm. Or anyone’s. Kids could never bully her in school because Amber just didn’t care.
“I might keep waitressing. It’s fun. We can’t all be brilliant lawyers.”
Beth heard the teasing tone, but she frowned as she walked through the revolving glass doors and headed to the elevators. “Youcouldbe a lawyer. You’re too smart to quit school.”
“You’re too smart to be a lawyer. You just think it will make you happy.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” Beth mentally rolled her eyes. Sometimes Amber’s free-spirit hippie thinking irritated the hell out of her. “I have to go. I’m at the elevators.”
“I’ll be at the lake this weekend—if you can’t reach me. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
After saying goodbye, Beth slid the phone into her purse and hit the up button with her elbow. Amber didn’t know what she was talking about. Being a lawyer waseverything.
Beth watched her mom carefully lay the cutlery. She’d played her part in the charade and offered to help, but her mom would never let anyone else set the table, and they both knew it. Same thing if she tried to clean up the dishes or put away the food. It would all be declined.
Behind closed doors, Amber and Beth would giggle and call their mother “Mad Madeline”—though they never saw her react with more than a huff. They spun tales for each other. Imagined scenarios where their finely tuned mother might explode and flip the table over, sending tomato soup and cheese sandwiches crashing to the polished tile, while their father watched with his mystified expression. The one he used whenever any of them seemed upset.
Beth’s mom dished out the bowls—tomato again—and sat at the table. She spread the serviette neatly over her lap and nodded. Beth’s dad picked up his spoon. Beth followed.
“It was a good service today.” Beth’s dad—whom the sisters nicknamed “Even Steven” because he’d divided everything exactly in half for them their entire lives—said the same thing every Sunday. Beth made a soft hum of agreement, but truth be told, she’d spent most of the service thinking about Amber. Should she have lent her money for new tires? How bad werethey? Beth owed a small fortune in student loans and credit cards—looking the part of a successful woman in the city was not cheap. Neither was her apartment, even with three roommates. But she was worried. Beth peeked at her iPhone in her lap. Amber hadn’t answered her morning texts.
Her mom looked over the table. “Please put away your phone.”
“Sorry.” Beth slid it to the side of the table, still visible enough to irk her mother. Beth might toe the line, but she wasn’t above giving it a small tug. “I’m waiting to hear from Amber.”
“You’ve talked to her?” Her dad spoke cautiously, as though feeling out the words, and he flicked a glance at her mom, measuring her reaction.
“She called Thursday.” Beth considered whether to tell them that her sister needed tires. Amber was proud, though. She’d want her parents to think she could handle herself, and Beth didn’t want to betray that. “She seems okay. She’s talking about going to the Yukon.”
Her mom’s spoon tinged against her bowl as she slid it through the soup. “I think we’re heading into another heat wave. I can’t imagine what our air-conditioning bill is going be like.”
Beth stared at her mother. Did she really just change the subject toair-conditioning?
“If you call Amber, you can ask her to come home.”
