Becoming (8 page)

Several breaths passed in silence. She didn’t
know whether to break it. Eventually, he relaxed.

“That’s why your DFCS worker got the funds
approved to start you in karate,” he murmured thoughtfully. His
fingers resumed their idle play with her hair. “I’ve always
wondered if she was trying to protect you from me.”

“You?” She shook her head and rubbed his
knee. “I overheard Mrs. Harris arguing with her supervisor about
placing me with Mrs. B after the incident with Porkchop. The
supervisor knew that Mrs. B had become your legal guardian after
your mama passed, and she was worried that I would react poorly to
you after what had happened. Mrs. Harris knew that Mrs. B was
pretty much my last hope. The karate lessons were a compromise so
the supervisor would agree to the placement.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “It’s very
interesting, listening to the story about that day from your
perspective. I appreciate you sharing that with me.” He reached
over and put his glass on the table. When he sat back, he wrapped
his arms around her. “Here’s what I remember.

“Mrs. B told me that we were going to have a
new foster coming to stay with us. That wasn’t anything new. I’d
lived here since I was nearly a year old and had seen plenty of
kids come and go. This time it would be a girl about my age. I
remember wishing at the time that it was going to be a boy. The
last girl Mrs. B had fostered used all the hot water when she
showered and spent most of her time in the bathroom.”

Amber smiled. She would have loathed living
with that girl.

“But I remember thinking it was cool that
this new foster would be my age. We’d get to go to school together
and hang out. I didn’t know how long you’d be staying with us, of
course, but that didn’t really matter at the time. I remember Mrs.
B having some closed-door telephone conversations with this new
kid’s DFCS worker. It made me curious. Most of the kids who came
here were placed by Child Protection Services, only temporarily
removed from a home, waiting for a family member to come and get
them. But in this case, the new kid was in the custody of Family
and Children’s Services. This was different.

“And then the big day came. We didn’t know
when to expect you, so Mrs. B sat me down with my lunch. I remember
hearing the car pull up just as I took the first bite of my
sandwich. Mrs. B wouldn’t let me go to the door and ‘ogle’ the new
kid, so I had to sit at the table and strain to see out the front
windows. Mrs. B went outside to speak with Mrs. Harris, and she
sent you in.

“The first thing that caught my attention was
the black trash bag. You held it in front of you like a shield, I
thought. None of the other fosters had come without at least a
backpack or gym bag. It was another sign that things were different
with you. You held that bag without a thought, looking around the
kitchen with that cool, but ever-so-fearfully-hopeful expression I
mentioned earlier. You had on faded green cargo shorts that were
too baggy and a yellow T-shirt with a ketchup stain on it. You wore
your hair tied back in a ponytail with some cheap, plastic, yellow
sunglasses pushed up on your head. Some beat-up, off-brand sneaks
on your feet. And there was a scrape on your right knee and that
vicious bruise under your left eye.

“I remember being awed. This is the face of
courage, I thought
.
This is a girl who hasn’t had someone
who would or could buy her a decent piece of luggage. A girl whose
every last possession fits into a black trash bag. A girl who has
literally taken a punch and is standing in front of me looking like
she’s ready to fight the next fight.”

Amber listened, the emotion caused by his
narration gripping her tightly around the throat. His scent
enveloped her, a welcome balm.

“You were the most amazing girl I had ever
met, and we hadn’t even spoken,” he said. “The sight of you knocked
the wind out of me. And I knew instantly that you were meant for
me.”

He shifted so he could lift her chin up and
look into her eyes. “Of course, I took the safe route and offered
you half of my sandwich instead of professing my undying love and
devotion right then and there. And once I got to know you, I
figured out you would tell me I was full of it if I ever told you
that.”

An unexpected laugh escaped her. “You have
always known me better than anyone.”

He smiled. “Of course I have.”

“You’re my best friend,” she said softly.
“You and Mrs. B are all the family I have, and you’ve stood by me,
even during…”

“Why don’t we call them The Incidents?
Capital T, capital I?”

She managed a smile over his deliberately
cheerful tone, though the topic was hardly one to be treated
lightly and they both knew it. She sighed. “I know we need to
discuss that, and soon. But for now, I just want this to be…”

“About us,” he finished.

“Yeah.” She touched the side of his face,
felt the hint of stubble there. She saw emotion and moonlight
reflected in his eyes. “As I said, you’re my best friend, Gabriel.
I’ve loved you for years.”

Stunned, he said, “You’ve never said that
before.”

“I know.” Her expression was somber. “I don’t
think I could. Loving you as my best friend was one thing. Being in
love with you is another, much bigger thing.”

“Ah.” He grinned. “Would this ‘much bigger
thing’ involve kissing on a regular basis?”

She leaned up toward his lips in
response.

The next morning, Mrs. B sat drinking her tea
and reading the paper. Amber got up before Gabriel and shuffled
into the kitchen to get herself a glass of orange juice.

“Good morning,” Mrs. B said, looking at Amber
over her reading glasses. “How was the party?”

Amber closed the refrigerator after replacing
the juice carton. “It was okay.”

Raising an eyebrow, Mrs. B repeated, “‘Okay?’
Did I just hear that correctly? Not ‘lame,’ ‘a waste of time,’ or
‘sucky?’”

Hunching her shoulders, Amber stared silently
into her juice glass.

“Dare I ask what happened to upgrade this
horrible social experience to an ‘okay’ time?”

The sound of a door opening had Amber’s eyes
drifting to the kitchen doorway. “Well…”

“Good morning, Mrs. B,” Gabriel said
cheerfully as he walked into the kitchen. He swooped down to kiss
his guardian on the cheek. “Amber,” he added, moving around the
table and giving her a quick kiss right on the lips.

There was a moment of humming silence as
Amber and Gabriel looked at Mrs. B. She carefully removed her
reading glasses and set them to the side. Her gaze moved
thoughtfully from one of her charges to the other. “Well, well,
well.”

She smiled. “It’s about time.”

“We’d like to welcome aboard all first class
passengers to flight 1499. All passengers seated in rows three
through six are now welcome to board.”

Amber snorted and elbowed Gabriel in the side
as she watched the toothy attendant greet the few passengers about
to board the plane. “Figures. We get to sit here pathetically and
watch the hobnobbers board first. I should've known.”

They were seated in Atlanta’s Hartsfield
International Airport at what Amber said was an ungodly hour of the
morning waiting to board the plane that would take them to
Dallas/Ft. Worth for their first layover and then on to Seattle for
their second before finally arriving in Anchorage. After a few days
in Anchorage, the plan was to embark on a tour of Kodiak Island.
They then planned to venture to Fairbanks to finish out the trip.
For now, they had a full day of traveling ahead of them. So far,
nerves and excitement were staving off exhaustion from their early
rising.

Gabriel grinned at her sarcastic comment.
Then he stood up, hefting the single backpack they had filled as
their carry-on, and took her hand. “Come on.”

“
What?
”

Greatly enjoying her reaction, he tugged
until she got to her feet and then began pulling her toward the
door leading to the boarding tunnel.

“Gabriel, they won’t let us on,” she argued,
thoroughly perplexed. “I may not have ever been on a plane,
but—”

“Welcome aboard,” the gate attendant said as
she took the tickets that Gabriel extended. “Seats 3E and 3F. Have
a wonderful flight,” she said, smiling and directing them behind
her with a wave of her hand.

Giving Amber’s hand another tug to get her
moving, he struggled not to laugh. Her expression couldn’t decide
between shock and confusion. She allowed him to lead her down the
ramp leading to the plane’s entrance. It was about halfway down the
tunnel that she snapped out of it.

“Wait a minute here,” she said crossly,
coming to a stop. “Let me see those tickets, Gabriel Reid.”

He handed them over to her, watching with
further amusement as she pulled out the stubs and read the seat
assignments. She would now be realizing why he had insisted on
carrying the backpack and all of their paperwork through the
baggage check and security.

“But how…?” She caught his gaze and her
eyebrows slowly lifted. “What did you do?”

Taking her elbow, he once again began walking
toward the plane. “I surprised my girlfriend for her birthday.”
Seeing that she was about to protest, he said, “And before you even
think about arguing, I know your birthday isn’t for another few
days, and I know you thought that bathing suit for the pool party
was your gift from me. Just be gracious and accept that I wanted to
spoil you.”

He had obviously stolen the wind from her
argument. She remained silent as they boarded the plane. They both
looked around curiously as they stepped over the threshold into the
belly of the plane, neither of them having traveled by air before.
The flight attendant standing at the door must have noted their
lack of experience, as she stepped closer to them and smiled.

“Can I help you find your seats?” she
asked.

He thought she looked like someone’s charming
and doting grandmother. The thought eased some of his nerves and
brought an easy, polite smile to his face. “Sure, ma’am,” he said,
putting a hand on Amber’s shoulder. “3E and F.”

“Oh, you’re right here up front.” The
attendant walked a few steps past the first class kitchen and
pointed to the first row of seats on the left. “These are bulkhead
seats, so you’ll need to stow your bag in the overhead
compartment.”

“Thanks,” he responded, watching as Amber
moved in the direction of the seats. Lowering his voice, he asked
the flight attendant, “Do you have orange juice?”

She gave him a kind smile and patted his arm.
“I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks again.”

He took a few steps forward and nodded to the
few other passengers already seated. They stared back at him. He
figured they were wondering what two teenagers sporting jeans and
T-shirts were doing in the first class section of the plane. Every
one of the other passengers was wearing a suit or collared shirt
and slacks of some kind, even the women. Considering the fact that
he had needed to work quite a few auto-repair jobs on the side over
the past six months to afford the upgrade, he guessed he and Amber
were a tad underdressed.

Shrugging it off, he looked down at Amber,
who had taken the aisle seat. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to scoot over to the window
seat.”

“You should take it,” she said
stubbornly.

He just stared at her blandly until she
huffed out a sigh and moved over. Then he took the aisle seat so
the passengers behind him could board. He passed the backpack over
to her. “Why don’t you take out what you want and I’ll stick the
bag up in the overhead compartment?”

“Sure.”

She opened the zipper and grabbed her MP3
player and the novel she had brought for the trip. When she handed
him back the bag, he reached in and took out a pack of gum, his own
MP3 player and the
Rolling Stone
magazine he had picked up
the day before. Setting everything on the armrest/beverage holder
between their seats, he waited for a break in the flow of boarding
passengers and stood to stow it. Before he had time to lift the bag
up, he spotted a petite woman with short, curly brown hair and
deeply tanned skin in the front of the coach section looking from
her carry-on suitcase to the overhead bin with an assessing look in
her eye. She hefted it as far as the empty seat beside her and gave
the bin one more look.

After glancing around her and seeing that no
one was paying her any attention, Gabriel moved forward and gave
her a smile. “I’ll get that for you, ma’am,” he offered.

“Oh, thank you,” she said gratefully,
releasing her hold on the handle so that he could take it from her.
Her eyes wrinkled at the corners when she admitted, “I had visions
of taking out myself and several passengers with that thing.”

With an easy laugh, he asked, “Which
bin?”

“That one, please,” she said, pointing to the
one she had been eying.

He hefted the suitcase and slid it safely
into position within the compartment. “There you go. No problem at
all. Let me know if you need help getting it back down, hear?”

She blinked at him, then nodded and thanked
him again. He made sure she took her seat, then stood patiently to
wait for the aisle to again clear of passengers. As he waited, his
gaze moved to the row of seats directly across from him. A
businessman with gilded blond hair and intense dark eyes was
sitting there staring at him without a hint of expression on his
face.

Gabriel instinctively offered a questioning
smile toward the stranger, who was looking at him almost like he
knew him. The other man’s face remained impassive, though he did
raise an eyebrow. Strangely, Gabriel thought there was something a
bit familiar about him. But since he didn’t speak or introduce
himself, he figured he had just seen him sitting in the airport
terminal.