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The Perfect Pieces Ch. 01

By: DreamCloud



Author's note: Chapter 1 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing. Thank you Lori for talking me out of not throwing this away. If it sucks, at least I have someone to point at and say 'It's her fault.' That is too much pressure. If it sucks, it's my own fault.

*****

Treasure hunting is my favorite pastime. Some people like antiques, some cars and others collect stamps. I could think of no better way to spend my Saturday morning than digging through the scrap glass bins at Stained Life. Finding the perfect pieces was a challenge, especially when you didn't know what you were looking for. Ideas were always running through my head, most disappearing before my eyes saw the first piece of glass. Those ideas were weak. It was the ideas that came from the perfect piece of glass that actually saw cutters, foil and lead. 

"Finding anything, Mark?" Tracy asked. She was a lovely, big woman. She lived to cut glass and specialized in tiffany-style lamp shades. Boring work to me, but her designs were unique and quite beautiful. She had owned Stained Life for the five years I had been coming in. Five years and one hundred hairstyles. This morning, I noticed she had run highlights through her straightened hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, cinched with a red ribbon. She had left a finger-thick set of strands on each side of her face. They curled perfectly and flowed to her chin. Though she was bigger than most men, the curls and her smile added a sweetness that made her approachable. 

I recognized her question as rhetorical. She knew I didn't need any help. "I like the curls," I said, running my finger down the side of my face. 

"Thank you," she said brightly, "I thought they might take a few years off." We had known each other long enough to say just about anything. We had never had cross words or even a small disagreement that I could remember. 

"They're charming, Tracy," I said, smiling. I meant it. As a confirmed loner, she was probably the closest thing to a local friend I had. People usually irritated me, but not Tracy. We had something in common, stained glass, and little desire to involve ourselves in each other's lives. Friends, with no emotional commitment beyond the now. Always a pleasant visit and one of the reasons I gave her all my glass business. 

"The Glassworx in Harburg went out of business," Tracy said, still a little flushed from my 'charming' comment. I liked making her happy. "I picked up their unsold inventory. If you want, you can have first dibs." My eyebrows went up of their own accord.  

"Oh..I want," I said, with undisguised desire. Tracy smiled and waved me toward the storeroom. She had known my answer before she asked. The room was solid function. Shelves of inventory along one wall, and sturdy thick-legged tables down the other. Atop the tables were different sized boxes, obviously from a hasty move. 

"That's all the glass," Tracy said, waving at the boxes, "careful, some of it may not have been packed well." She grabbed an empty box and handed to me. "Have fun." I thanked her as she left the storeroom.

The mother lode was before me. Undiscovered glass in cardboard treasure chests. Methodically, I started at the box all the way to the left. I wasn't going to miss a sheet. The first box was filled with scraps, leftover glass from projects or accidental breakage. I found wispy red scraps. Waves of white blended into the red by an invisible wind. Some were from the same sheet and others a slightly darker or lighter shade. The offsetting shades and delicate blends would look perfect. I saw soft flower petals in glass. Something I could definitely work with. I transferred the reds to my box. 

The other boxes contained standard full panels. I ran across a gold-hued panel. The gold clouded into an almost rust color as it neared the edges. It gave depth if it was cut right. An image formed in my mind. Red flowers and a hummingbird with a golden breast. 

I was deviating from my contract work. The images I was seeing didn't come with dollar signs. They were simply for my pleasure. I knew my paid work would suffer if I brought home the new glass, but I put it in my box anyway. They were perfect pieces. The obsession took over every now and again. My life was always better for it. Customers suffered in the delays, but happiness was important. I knew I would be cutting flower petals that night. 

I spent a lot of time in the back room. I found a few streaky blue panels that would be perfect for wings. Other panels useful for contract work. Most weren't terribly different than what I could find out front. The olive greens I found were less translucent than I normally worked with. Slightly richer, leaning toward the opaque. They would make the flower vine contrast with the reds, gold and blues. It was late afternoon by the time I had gone through the last box. I had also set the contents so they were easier to examine for the next person - my present to Tracy. 

I lumbered to the front with a fairly heavy box. Maybe fifty pounds of glass. My arms cradling the bottom so the glass wouldn't break through. Tracy smiled as I approached and cleaned off a section of the counter for me. 

"You were back there for a while."

"Found some new stuff, my contract work will suffer, and I blame you." 

"You love it," Tracy said as she began counting the sheets. It was very good glass and I figured I was in for quite a bill. "Five a panel okay?" I was surprised at her question. I don't think a single panel would be less than ten on sale. 

"That seems awfully cheap," I said, worried she would be the next place out of business. 

"Twice what I paid for it," Tracy said, "you've been with me for a few years. Think of it as a good customer discount with a healthy mark up for me." 

"In that case, add some 3/16th copper foil, black back," I said, trying to pad the bill for her sake.

"One MIL?" Tracy asked. I nodded as I pulled out my wallet. She went to the back wall and pulled a pack off one of the pegs. 

"Two packs, please," I added. Tracy complied and added two packs of foil to my box. "Thanks, Tracy." She smiled as she rang up my bill on the register. I handed her my credit card, very pleased with the price. A successful treasure hunt. Currently, the highlight of my year.

"I'll see you next week," I said as she opened the door for me. 

"I'll look forward to it, Mark," Tracy said with a soft smile. There was a twinkle in her eye that made my face warm. It sounded more intimate than friendly. I wasn't sure how to respond so I didn't. She closed the door, unphased by my silence, as I exited supporting the box with both arms. That was the second time in two years, I felt she thought of me as more than just a customer. I was flattered, but women were a pain in the ass. I had a failed marriage to prove it. There was no way I was going to hop back on that horse. Sex was poor compensation for the misery of an unhappy relationship. Never again, I had promised myself. I looked down at my new glass and smiled. All the happiness I could ever need could be found in the box.

It was almost dinner time after I loaded up and was on my way. I flipped the radio on and traveled through my stations, trying to avoid the ads. I settled on Gordon Lightfoot by default. 'The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald' was better than listening about new windows or the excellent deals I could get on a new Ford. I felt a little guilty tapping my foot, but if you ignored the words, the tune was pleasing enough. 

I had an important decision to make. Eat now or wait until after the forty-five minute drive home. I lived out in the country, away from civilization. I escaped there after the divorce and loved the privacy. I gave up a business career, simplified my life and turned my stained glass hobby into a small business. It was relaxing and very satisfying. Neighbors were far enough away that I didn't have to worry about being bothered at all. My little slice of heaven.

I decided to grab some fast food. There was a roast beef place that served an okay sandwich with an addictive BBQ sauce. The sauce was what kept me coming back. It had the right mixture between flavor and tang that lit up the side of my tongue. I only visited town once a week, so it didn't screw with my diet too much. I would swim in the stuff if it was closer to home. 

The one bad thing about fast food is the lines. I didn't much care for drive through. It took a day or so to get the smell out of the car and that's if I didn't spill it everywhere. I sighed as I stepped between the metal rails that demarcated the customer chute. Four people in front of me, and only one register open. The world would be a better place if other people would just stay home when I wanted to pick up food. I settled myself for the wait. 

The lady at the register was ordering a feast. A couple of kids ran up to her and added more to the order. My irritation rose. I should have just driven home. Unfortunately, I rarely second-guessed the decisions I made. I decided to eat there, so I stayed there in line with the rest of the cattle. 

The guy who went next was a special order maniac. Nothing slowed things up like special orders. I don't know why people did it. There was a 50/50 chance the restaurant would screw it up anyway. The kids who worked in these places just didn't care enough to get it correct. I listened as he described his burger toppings for the third time to the befuddled acne-faced teen on the other side of the counter. I almost wanted to go back there myself and straighten it out. I breathed deep and tried to let it not eat at me. 

The man who followed Mr. Special Order had no idea what he wanted and wished to discuss the menu in depth. The whole place heard my frustrated groan. The woman in front of me turned and gave me a knowing smile. It felt better knowing someone commiserated with my pain. 

She had slightly disheveled long jet black hair that reached halfway down her back. About a half inch of the ends of her hair was dyed purple, almost like it was dipped. Strange, since the cute crinkle in her eyes made me think she was in her thirties. I always thought of purple hair as something for kids. Her clothes looked a little worn, faded t-shirt and jeans starting to fray at the bottoms. I figured she was taking a break from yard work or something. I grimaced back at her and gained a little chuckle as she turned back to the line. My frustration amused her. It made it somewhat humorous and less taxing on me as well.

She moved up to the register when it was finally her turn. She ordered a small roast beef and a glass a water. I was thrilled with her order. Something quick and simple. Leave it to the restaurant to make it complicated. 

"I have to charge the full price for the cup," the kid said, looking apologetic. I saw the lady's shoulders slump. She was silent for a moment and then leaned over the counter and whispered something to the clerk. "I can't do that, ma'am," he replied.

"I'm a little short," the woman said quietly, "you guys can't be charging for water?" The boy shrugged his shoulders and had no idea what to say to that. Too young to know how to deal with unexpected issues. 

"For the love of..." I said, exasperatedly, "put her lunch on my tab and add a number 3 with curly fries." The wait had become too much. There were simply too many people in the world. 

"You can't," the woman responded quickly. Her eyes were all buggy as she turned to me. I don't think she wanted my charity. 

"I just did," I returned, "kind of tired of waiting." The kid was staring at the both of us, not quite sure what to do. I just started thinking I had made a mistake when the lady's eyes softened as her mind changed. 

"I'm kind of hungry," she said. I could see the pain behind her eyes. The statement cost her a lot. I started to stutter a retraction then caved. 

"Order what you want," I surrendered. I was just panhandled in a fast food line. The word sucker seemed to apply. She looked at me for a moment, nodded and then turned to the clerk. 

"I'll have what he's having," she said and then moved to the side to let me pay. Her hands were shaking. I saw her pride stripping away. Her lower lip quivered and she quickly turned away from me. She was really hungry. My insides were doing an embarrassing dance. I was as uncomfortable for her as she was for herself. The kid was just staring at me, not quite sure what to do.

"That's two number 3's," I repeated, "and add a couple of those cherry pies." This time the kid started hitting buttons and repeating my order back to me. I paid him. The woman remained with her back to me, but her hand moved to her face. I knew what she was wiping away. I felt like crap for her. I shouldn't have stuck my nose into it. Damn my impatience. 

She turned to me with glossy eyes. "Thank you." 

"Um, sure," I said, trying to make it look like it was no big deal. I moved down the counter to the pick up side. She followed, taking some deep breaths to settle herself. 

"Amber," she said, introducing herself. 

"I'm Mark," I replied, not really wanting to go too much past that. Something told me that getting to know her would be a really bad idea. She had 'problem' written all over her. The clerk came over and placed two empty cups on the counter. Amber grabbed them both before I could move. Damn. 

"What are you drinking?" Amber asked as she moved toward the soda fountain. 

"Mountain Dew," I replied. If I am going to do sugar, I go all the way. 

"Diet or regular?" 

"Regular," I answered. I like real sugar. I make it a point to not buy soda for home. I would be three hundred pounds if I did. I watched Amber fill the cups. She went for the unsweetened iced tea. I felt strangely childish about my sugar. She handed me the soda with a smile. 

"Thanks," I said, trying to figure out a nice way to split off. I could tell that getting to know Amber would be a costly mistake. The clerk was no help when he delivered both the meals on a single tray. Amber grabbed it quickly and moved toward the tables. I had no choice but to follow. I was losing control and knew I hopelessly lacked tact. I didn't want to be rude today. The day had started out so well. I had new glass after all. 

Amber moved to a table next to a small blue backpack that had claimed one of the seats. I assumed the backpack was hers. It was larger than a kid's school backpack, but smaller than one of those camping monstrosities. No metal frame. It was almost bursting at the seams. I saw 'homeless' and sighed as I sat down. She ignored my wordless comment and essentially set my food before me as neatly as possible.

"Sauce?" Amber asked, all smiles and still standing. I had almost forgotten my whole reason for coming here. 

"Barbecue," I answered, her homelessness becoming less important as my mouth began to water. She moved off quickly. I assumed she felt she should serve if I was paying. I wasn't against it. Maybe it would make us both feel better. My opinion of her changed dramatically when she brought back six mini cups of the BBQ sauce. That's three each. One for the sandwich and two for curly fry dipping. Perfect. 

"I am kind of addicted to this stuff," I pointed out as I emptied one of the mini cups on my roast beef. 

"It's the only reason I come to this chain," Amber added, duplicating my efforts on her own sandwich. I smiled, chastising myself internally for beginning to like her. I decided a little roughness was in order. Something to put some distance between us. 

"Why are you so hungry?" I asked. She slowed and looked at me. I kept a straight face as I reminded her of her predicament. Having no tact comes in handy once in awhile. I could see the resignation in her face as she gathered her thoughts. For a second, I think she intended to lie to me. Not that I deserved the truth, but I think I got it. 

"I was in a bad relationship," Amber began, "things went from bad to worse. I had to leave everything behind." She shrugged her shoulders and lifted her sandwich up, "I will straighten things out soon." She bit into her roast beef. A good excuse not to continue. Not that I needed more. I understood bad relationships. 

"Sorry," I said and bit into my own sandwich. We watched each other chew, which was uncomfortable. I had trouble letting my eyes roam away. I think we were in some kind of stubborn staring contest. She blinked first. 

"I not sure when I can pay you back for this," Amber admitted, "it may be awhile before I am on my feet again." She meant it. I could see she intended to pay me back. Not how I pictured a homeless person. I dropped my paper mache wall. 

"I don't want you to," I caved again, "just think of it as gift you can pass on to someone else when they need it." Me, the altruistic idiot. If she hadn't held up the line, I would have never caved in the first place. My charity rarely surmounted the occasional purchase of Girl Scout cookies. At least this way, I could avoid giving her my address.

"Okay," Amber agreed before she filled her mouth again. She was eating rather quickly. I wondered how much of it was actually getting chewed. I took a sip of my blessed sugar, dipped a fry and chewed it slowly. 

"What do you do for a living?" I asked, trying to stay off the homeless and starving topic. 

"I was a receptionist for a doctor's office," Amber responded, "it wasn't a great job, but steady. They liked me because I could do insurance entry as well." She seemed proud of the job as she inhaled the rest of her sandwich. I dipped another fry and chewed carefully. I noticed some light roots where her hair was parted. She had colored her hair black. 

"There's a lot of doctors in this town," I pointed out. The town only had a population around 25,000, but it handled all the farms, and hermits like me, in about a 100 mile radius. She nodded her head as she started on her fries. Dip then eat. We had that in common. 

"I have to get an address first," Amber said, as she began to attack the fries with gusto. She looked like she hadn't eaten in awhile. She had no desire to be dainty. I dipped another fry as I watched her eat. "What do you do?" she asked when she caught me staring. 

"Artist of a sort," I answered cryptically, "used to be in business, sold metal bars to manufacturers." Boring was the word for it, though it had great bonuses when the economy was on fire. 

"You look too young to be retired," Amber asked, not realizing she had a mouth full of curly fries. 

"I'm not," I defended myself, "I get paid for my art." Amber's eyebrows lifted. I guess I didn't look the artist type. She continued to eat as she considered my words. 

"What kind of art?"

"Stained glass."

"You mean like church windows?" Amber asked, seemingly interested.

"I've done a couple of church consignments," I said, nodding, "but mostly private work for homes." I was impressing her. I enjoyed she was impressed. Damn my stupid pride. She finished the last of her fries and drank some of her iced tea. I turned my box of fries around and gestured for her to share them with me. She smiled and dug in. I took another bite of my sandwich as she continued to eat. 

"Is it hard to do?" Amber continued her questions. 

"Sometimes," I replied, "it's gotten easier the more I do it. The most difficult part now is choosing the glass. Finding the perfect pieces can be a challenge." 

"What? You mean picking the color?" Amber continued with an expression that made it sound like it should be an easy task. I wasn't sure I could explain it.

"Color, grain, translucency and texture all matter," I said strongly. Maybe I was the only one who thought so, but it was important to me. "If you match the wrong glass together, it will weaken the end result. It takes time to find the perfect pieces." 


The Perfect Pieces Ch. 01



"Passion," Amber commented as she finished off my fries. A sly smile was on her lips as she chewed. She was teasing me about my art. I relaxed and smiled back. It was serious only in my head. She reached for her cherry pie and opened the box. "Thank you for this," she said, tipping it to me before she took a bite. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sweet processed filling. It must have been a long time since she had eaten a full meal. I was still working on my sandwich.

"I am glad you're enjoying it," I said. I was actually. If you're going to give something away to a stranger, it is nice when it is truly appreciated. New glass and I made someone happy. Not a bad day at all. I went back to my sandwich. I watched her make short work of the pie and sit back sated with a thin smile, sipping on her tea.

"My stomach is happy I ran into you, Mark," Amber said, her tone final as she collected her garbage and part of mine. She leaned back awkwardly and put it in a garbage can that was a few feet away. It would have been easier to just stand up I thought. "Thank you for dinner and I will feed someone else in the future," she said, collecting her backpack and mostly empty tea. 

"You have a good night," I said, surprised she was ending the meal early. I figured it would have been a more graceless parting on my part. Amber stood, smiling and went to refill her tea, backpack on her arm. I watched her recap her iced tea cup and walk to the door. She waved with a smile. I returned the same and she was gone. 

I spent another ten minutes finishing my meal and thinking of the encounter. I suspected she was in more trouble than she let on. I was proud I didn't pry. I was usually arrogant enough to think I had solutions to everyone's problems. That usually turned out badly, I would feel worse and the 'helpee' would hurt. This way, Amber ended up with a meal she needed, and I had my happy life with new glass. I finished up and didn't refill my soda. Too much caffeine would keep me up half the night. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 02



Author's note: Chapter 2 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 02

The sun was waning when I got into the car and started the long drive back to the house. I fiddled with the radio and gave up trying to find a station with something other than an ad. I tuned to my favorite and turned it down waiting for the music to cycle back. I looked up as the light changed and turned onto the on-ramp. Halfway down the ramp, Amber was hitchhiking. 

"Fuck," I said to myself. I wanted to drive by so badly I could feel it in my bones. Images of a news story of an unnamed woman found dead on the side of the road made me stop. I tried to quell my anger at myself for buying her dinner. I knew her name now. She wouldn't be the nameless dead girl. It would be my fault if I drove by. I stopped a car's length beyond her. Closed my eyes and rested my head on the steering wheel. This would end badly for me. I hate dealing with people. 

I timid knock on the passenger window brought my head up. I sighed and pushed the lever to lower the window. 

"You can't hitchhike," I said sharply. I meant it to come out softer, but I was still a little hot. "Especially at night," I added with a more even tone. Damn, I think I just sounded like my father did when I was younger. I disliked this situation immensely. Amber laughed. I hated this situation. 

"I've made it halfway across the country, Mark," Amber chuckled. "Go on," she continued, pointing down the road, "I'll be fine. You've done enough." She headed to the back of my car and went back to the edge of the on-ramp. I took a deep breath. I couldn't believe she laughed at me. Stupidity had always been my guide when dealing with people. I got out of the car, visions of her raped and dead on the side of the road steering my stupidity to new heights. 

"I'll give you enough for a train ticket," I called to her, "anywhere you want to go." She stared at me. At least she didn't laugh. "You can't hitchhike," I repeated, as if that made all the sense in the world. She could certainly hitchhike; it was I who couldn't let her. She took a step away from me. Fuck, she thought I was the murdering rapist. 

"Look," I said, "I'll leave some money right here," I kicked around the gravel 'til I found a fist-sized rock. I grabbed my wallet. I pulled out the $240 and some singles I had, folded them and put them under the rock. "It should be enough to get you across a couple of states. Just promise you won't hitchhike." She stopped moving backward. 

"I promise," she called from the safe distance. I nodded and got back into the driver's seat. I did what I could. I prayed that murdering rapists didn't ride the train. I put the car into drive and continued on my way. 

"Mark!" Amber shouted. 'Idiot,' I thought to myself as I put the car in park. She ran up to the passenger side window, her hand full of my money. Her money now. She struggled a bit with her words. I waited, not wanting to issue any more stupid statements from my mouth. 

"I need a place to sleep for the night," Amber said. Tears flowed. I think she would have rather driven a nail through her foot than ask me. 

"I don't live very close to town," I said, trying to discourage her, "I usually only come in once a week." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. 

"I'll clean," Amber offered, "yard work." She seemed pretty desperate for someone who hitchhiked halfway across the country. She saw my hesitation and sweetened the deal, "I need a safe place for the night." Now I could play hero and save her from the train-waiting murderous rapists. 

"It would only be a couch." I wimped out.

"Okay," Amber agreed. I popped the lock and she got in the front seat and laid her backpack on the floor at her feet. For all I knew, she was a hitchhiking murderous rapist. Well, murderous anyway. 

"Buckle," I ordered. Amber smiled and buckled herself in. I put the car back into drive and headed down the ramp and merged onto the highway. 

"Are you sorry you met me?" Amber asked. She said it with shamed softness. 

"Yes," I said too quickly. "No," I rephrased once I had a second to think about it. "I am kind of set in my ways and maybe a disruption is what I need." I was lying to her and myself. 

"I'm sorry," she said. I left it at that. Some early Fleetwood Mac ended the ads so I turned up the radio and let Stevie Nicks talk for both of us. I was surprised to see Amber's finger tapping as she mouthed the words. She seemed too young to be a fan. 

We rode through some Journey, followed by Heart. I had to turn down 'Barracuda' since I wasn't in the mood to get hyped up. 

"You're in trouble, aren't you?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the road. I had thought about it, and it made sense. I might as well know what I had gotten myself into. 

"Yes," Amber answered. She didn't elaborate. 

"Have you lied to me?" I asked. Again, I didn't look at her face. I just wanted to know if I was being completely conned. Of course it was a stupid question. If she lied about lying, I would be in the same boat. 

"No," Amber responded. I looked over. Amber's eyes held apprehension and dropped to her feet. "I just didn't tell you everything." I believed her. 

"Do I want to know everything?" 

"No, it's best that you don't," she said quietly. I nodded and took a deep breath. Nothing involving other people is ever easy. I thought for a moment as 'Barracuda' continued quietly in the background. I decided I would commit to one night. Whatever the situation, it wouldn't affect my helping an obviously desperate woman. I already decided she wasn't murderous. If she was a thief, which seemed thin, my most valuable things wouldn't interest her at all. I had already given her all my cash and you can't hitchhike with a few hundred pounds of glass. Her eyes and mind were clear and she wasn't emaciated, so I wrote off drug use. It had to be something with the relationship that went from bad to worse. Risk was now my middle name. 

"Then we will ignore it," I concluded out loud, "you can relax tonight, and I'll get you to the train in the morning." Amber visibly relaxed and smiled. It made me feel better. I had no idea what kind of person I was helping, but she needed it. For one night, she could unwind with little thought to survival. Her smile drew mine out. I was fully committed. 

Heart gave way to Kansas. I turned 'Dust in the Wind' up a little. It was nice to use the radio as the third person. It allowed me to continue driving without saying something stupid. One thing about oldies, everyone knew the tunes. They never deviated from what they were so long ago. Very trustworthy. My neurotic need to fill the silence with words abated. I turned on the headlights as the sun dropped. 

Ads interrupted a few songs later. I quickly flipped between stations and found nothing. I turned back to my favorite station and turned it down low. 

"You don't like silence," Amber observed. She was smarter than she looked. I grimaced at the thought she may be figuring me out. I was hoping I could just be the nice guy who helped her out. "I don't like it either," she added. My shoulders loosened. "Sometimes it's nice. You know, when you're alone without anything to worry about." I looked over. She was looking straight ahead putting words to my thoughts. 

"I usually stream IHeart when I sleep," I admitted. She smiled. 

"Oldies?"

"The Dead, mostly," I answered, "it syncs better with my dreams." Silence filled with stupidity. I needed a new car. One with a bluetooth sync for my music. I clamped my teeth together to shut my mouth. Music syncing with dreams. She probably thought I was a lunatic. Hell, I thought it of myself. 

"I have...well had, a bootleg of them playing Alpine Valley in '88," Amber said, filling the silence, "I used to play it when I read. It was pretty good recording for a bootleg." This time I started the smile. 

"I saw Garcia at Soldier Field in '95," I bragged. It was a badge of honor for me. 

"His last concert?" Amber asked with interest, "I was only 15 when he died."

"Second to last," I clarified, "I saw him Saturday. He played again Sunday." I was having trouble straightening my lips. "Are you a Deadhead?" I asked. 

"I like the music," she answered without missing a beat, "it has a flow that a lot of bands seem to miss. I'm not a dedicated, decorate-the-house-in-skulls, type of Deadhead, but they're in my top five." I turned off the radio. Silence wasn't as bad as I thought. 

"And who rounds out the top five?" I asked. 

"That's a pretty intimate question, and I don't even know your last name," Amber said, pursing her lips to hide a smile.

"Winslow," I replied. "Answer the question." Her eyes looked out the window unfocused as she thought.

"Santana, Moody Blues and Cat Stevens when I sleep," Amber answered. My eyebrows lifted high. 

"I would have pegged you for something more modern," I said honestly. The purple in her hair looked more punkish, maybe headbanger or rap. "That's only four counting the Dead. Who is the fifth." She blushed. 

"Dido," Amber replied quietly. 

"Who?" I couldn't quite make out her answer. 

"Dido," she repeated a little louder. I think she was hesitant to tell me. 

"What is a Dido?" I asked lightly. 

"British singer," she answered with a more normal voice. I guess she meant to own it now. 

"Never hear of him," I admitted.

"Her," Amber continued, chuckling, "I think you probably have. You just don't know the name. 'White Flag' ring a bell?" I shook my head. It must have been where she got the purple hair. Most of my music died in the early 90's. 

"You have internet here in the boondocks?" Amber asked, looking out at the wall of trees that fenced in the highway. 

"Cellular router," I nodded as I answered. 

"Then we'll YouTube her so you'll know," Amber continued. The conversation continued with me confessing my top five and her critique of them. We went into other groups, comparing yeas and nays, finding we had more music in common than not. We moved to movies and books and by the time we arrived, I was at a complete loss as to the purple in her hair. None of her tastes fit the rebel color. I didn't ask. Music was a deep enough topic. 

I was disappointed it was dark when we arrived. I wanted to show her the land in something other than black and white. I would have liked to see if she found it calming like I did. Instead, I just pointed out where the driveway began and drove the quarter-mile stone path to the house. 

"No neighbors," Amber observed. I sensed a renewed fear in her voice. I had lived here so long, I took it all for granted. To a woman, it was the perfect place to be violated. No different than the hitchhiking. The chances she took were astounding. 

"There are," I said carefully, "about half a mile in either direction down the road." She looked both ways trying to see other houses in the dark, avoiding my eyes. I shouldn't have brought her here. "We can go back," I said, meaning it, "I should have gotten you a room at a Red Roof." I had my credit cards. Why in the hell had I agreed to bring her home? 

"I'm safe here, right?" Amber asked. About thirty minutes too late. 

"Yes," I answered, "but if you don't feel safe, it doesn't matter." She bit her lip as she assessed my words. "I can take you back," I repeated. 

"No," Amber decided. She didn't elaborate as she opened the passenger side door. I sat there watching her get out, grabbing her backpack. I wasn't sure how I felt about her being frightened all night. She poked her head back in the car with a smile, "I trust you if you trust me." It would have to be mutual. 

I got out and gathered my new glass from the back seat, careful to not let the box bottom break. I set it on the car hood and fished out my keys and handed them to Amber. "The box is heavy and I don't want the glass to fall through." She took the keys and I led her to the side door with my arms full. It took her a few tries to get the key in the lock, but she managed. 

"Switch is on the right," I instructed. Amber turned on the lights, and I put the glass in the utility room. "Washer and dryer," I said, pointing out the obvious appliances, "detergent's in the cabinet if you would like to wash some clothes." 

"That would be nice," Amber agreed. I took her into the great room. Large stone fireplace, flat panel and an L shaped couch that rarely saw visitors. She handed me my keys and looked around. 

"My bed," she smiled, pointing at the couch. I nodded. 

"Help yourself to anything you find in the kitchen," I said, gesturing toward the refrigerator behind the counter and stools that separated the two rooms. "I only have one shower, though there is a half bath behind that door." I pointed to the guest bathroom near the kitchen. 

"Would you mind if I took a shower?" Amber asked. 

"Of course not," I answered, "and there's even a lock on the door." I smiled. She smiled uncomfortably back. Why did I mention the lock? I should just detail everything she should be frightened about. My mouth just wouldn't stay closed. I closed my eyes and spoke again, "I meant that to be reassuring. I didn't mean you shouldn't trust..."

"It's okay," Amber interrupted, "I know." I looked up, and her smile was more genuine. It had a little humor in it as well. At least me feeling like an idiot lightened things up a bit. 

"Go ahead," I said, waving her into the bedroom, "I'll catch up on one of my shows." I turned, picked up the remote and sat on the couch. The TV started to cycle through its boot up sequence.

"Mark?"

"Yes," I said, turning to look at her. 

"Thank you," Amber said, then disappeared into the bedroom. 

"There are clean towels in the linen closet," I yelled. She responded with a garbled affirmative. I returned to the TV and traversed to my DVR listing. I settled on 'Elementary.' I was two shows behind and I knew the season cliffhanger was coming. 

I woke to a low rumbling. At first, I thought it was a truck tearing up the lawn. I realized quickly, as sleep left me, it was just the washer going through a noisy cycle. I was still clothed, on the couch with a blanket over me. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I could smell the coffee. 

"Good morning," Amber said from the kitchen. I looked up. She was more appealing cleaned up. Her hair took on a silky sheen and laid in an orderly fashion. "If I would have known the washer was so loud, I would have waited." She lifted a cup to her lips. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please," I said as I worked the couch-induced stiffness from my joints.

"You were out of it last night," Amber continued as she poured me a cup, "I thought it best to leave you where you were." She walked around the counter dressed in my robe. It swallowed her up, but it definitely looked better on her than it did on me. I would have to rewatch 'Elementary.' I hated when that happened. 

"Thank you," I said, taking the cup. 

"Thank you for the bed," Amber returned. Her grin was as bright as the morning. At least my nodding off benefited someone. I chuckled as I sipped my caffeine. She sat down next to me, pushing the blanket off to the side. "It's been a long time since I have felt clean," she admitted, "I really want to thank you for that and everything else." I was suddenly worried about my breath and the unknown condition of my hair. 

"You're welcome," I said, using the cup to block my morning breath. I took a sip of my coffee and thought it best to move my morning halitosis outside. Besides, I would get to show off my land. The whole reason I bought the place. I had a desire for her to like it. "Let's go on the porch," I said as I stood and gestured with my cup to the curtained french doors. She followed.

"Oh!" Amber said as we entered the screened-in porch. It was the best compliment I could imagine. I had kept the grass mowed to the river, about 100 yards away, slightly downhill from the house. Old-growth willows umbrellaed the grasses, mixed with some proud oaks. The birds were loud, it being early and a brown rabbit was running across the grounds as if on cue. "Is that your dock?"

"Yep, though I only own a canoe," I replied. The river moved slowly and was a good twenty feet wide. The dock didn't really stretch out over the water. It was merely a solid bank to sit on and watch the river flow by. 

"All of this is yours?"

"Yep," I said again. It was wonderful to watch her eyes as she took it in. It was a perfect morning to show it all off. Just cool enough to make the coffee more valuable. I sat on one of the cushioned chairs. 

"You live here year round?" Amber asked as she sat down in the chair next to mine. I nodded my head. 

"My workshop is in the garage and the land is my inspiration," I said. My practiced excuse for being a hermit. The truth is that nature was a much better companion than most humans. I had never pissed nature off. 

"It's beautiful," Amber commented. She relaxed into her chair and watched the world flow slowly by with me. If the weather was good, this is how I started all my days. Usually followed by a brisk walk around the grounds. It was my world. 

"I have to agree with you," I said, tipping my cup toward her, "it's my reality and my escape from it all in one." Amber laughed. I thought it was profound. 

"You're in love," she said between chuckles. I thought about it for a second.

"Yes," I admitted. She went back to her coffee, suppressing her giggles. We sat in silence for a few minutes, letting nature's symphony wash over us. I eventually drained my cup and stood to get a refill. 

"It is worth your love," Amber said as I opened the door. I stopped and looked back. She was still looking away, watching the river. 

"Would you like a refill?" I asked, remembering my manners. 

"Please," Amber said, holding out her cup. I retrieved it and went into the kitchen. I smiled to myself as I poured. It was nice to share my land with someone who enjoyed it. My ex called it a fucking dump. Of course, she would have preferred a few trips to Europe instead. It wasn't difficult to get it in the settlement. She hated me, but not enough to deal with the fucking dump. 

I collected the full cups and carefully maneuvered outside without spilling any. I handed Amber her cup, and received a smile. Ample payment. I sat down again, enjoying the morning. Amber sighed contentedly.

"You have built a nice life, Mark," she said, sipping her coffee. Unlike my ex, Amber understood. She folded her legs in the chair, sitting more like a teenager.

"I could show you around," I said, "I usually take a walk after coffee." She smiled without answering. I dropped it. I wouldn't want to hang around me either. I should get her back to town before the afternoon train. The dryer's buzzer went off, the sound dulled by the doors. 

"That should be my clothes," Amber said, standing, "it will take me a few minutes to put the second load in the dryer and get dressed. I'd love to see the rest of the place." I smiled and sat there as she went inside, wondering why I was so pleased. Even the coffee tasted better. 

We walked down to the river first. Amber in tan shorts and a t-shirt that had seen better days. It had a faded image of a runner on the back and some writing on the front. The lettering had lost a lot of its coloring and I didn't feel right staring at her chest to make out the words. I suspected she used to compete in races at one time. Her legs certainly looked toned. Very toned. 

The boards creaked loudly as we walked onto the small dock. It had been awhile since I had been on it. It may be time for some repair. I pointed out a turtle that was swimming parallel to the shore. Its nose above the water; you could just make out the shell below. It seemed unconcerned by our scrutiny. 




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 02



"You ever bring a chair out here and just sit?" 

"It's been awhile," I answered, "I used to do it a lot the first couple of years." I wondered why I stopped. It was so peaceful watching the water flow by. I remembered reading for hours on the dock stinking of sunscreen. "The river is the northern border of the property. The other side is owned by the Crudgmans. I met them once a few years ago." The Crudgmans never mowed and left their land to nature. 

"Doesn't it get lonely?" Amber asked, her eyes remaining on the river. 

"I kind of like it that way," I answered, slightly embarrassed about it. Admitting one is a hermit is not an easy thing to do. I had proudly come to terms with it a long time ago. Saying it out loud made me second-guess it all over again. Amber smiled. It was soft and knowing. 

"The rest of the world doesn't exist out here," she commented, "there's a lot of appeal to that." I could see she wanted to hide from it all as well. My mouth, as always, moved faster than my brain. 

"You could stay for a while," I started strong and ended in a sloppy whimper, "that is if you needed to think things through or you just needed time. I mean..."

"I would like that," Amber thankfully interrupted my rambling, "just for a couple of days." A happiness I didn't fully understand overtook me. I had never met anyone who understood this place. Understood why I loved it. Understood and respected me for it. I hadn't had a new friend in so long, I didn't remember how it felt to connect. 

"Then we have time," I said. My smile must have been a silly thing. I pointed to the west. "Let's walk along the river and I'll show you the rest." It was a leisurely walk that Amber seemed to enjoy as much as I did. We passed small forests of cattails that had taken hold next to the river, with iridescent blue butterflies silently flying among them. It couldn't have been a more perfect day to show someone around. We went south when we hit boundary marker - an old squared cement pillar that stuck about a foot out of the ground with parcel numbers etched into the sides. It was put in well before I bought the land, the result of a survey that solved a land dispute with the previous owners and one of my neighbors. 

Though I knew my way, the trees were a bit thicker here. I never mowed this far west, preferring the land stay more natural. The thick trees kept most of the foliage to a minimum, and I kept the dead fall from piling up. I enjoyed Amber's delight at experiencing the woods. No trails or roads to interfere with the connection. We had to jump a small feeder stream, about two feet wide, which seemed to please her. She had the outdoors in her blood. I really liked that about her. My ex loved concrete and tall buildings. The contrast between her and Amber could span a gap wider than the Grand Canyon. We reached the road we had driven in on and followed it to my driveway entrance. There wasn't much traffic, so it didn't really detract from the walk.

"Can I see your workshop?" Amber asked, when the conversation shifted back to my stained glass. I loved the idea, but my stupid brain started second-guessing me again. She was incredibly diligent in wanting what I wanted. Indirect compliments. I hated myself for thinking.

"Sure," I said, heading up the driveway. She walked next to me at a respectful distance. I wondered if I was being a helpful hero or just a sucker. I wanted my mind to shut up. We had a few minutes before we arrived so I attempted to ruin everything. It was always my way.

"Could I get in trouble for helping you?" I asked. Amber's expression lost its softness. I should have just trusted her. I could be a happy sucker for a few days. 

"I don't think so," she replied, slowing to a stop, "but you might." She looked at me with her hard eyes. "I can leave if you want." I didn't want. I only wanted to know if she was bullshitting me so she could stay. 

"I...no, I don't want you to leave...It's just...do you really like it here?" I slaughtered my sentences trying to merge them with my thoughts. They were as indecisive as I was. A moron with a mouth. 

"Oh," Amber said, her eyebrows lifting, "you think I'm telling you what you want to hear." I shrugged my shoulders. She laughed. I took a step away. "No..no," she said, holding her hand over her mouth trying to control herself for my benefit. "Mark, I've been thinking the same thing about you. All this beauty," she gestured over the grounds, "asking if I wanted to stay, talking about the music we shared." Her smiled grew, "I thought you were going to make a pass at me or something." She was worried about the same thing. 

"But, you agreed to stay," I pointed out. 

"My mind keeps telling me to go," she said, "I'm a mess inside. One second you're the nicest guy I've met in a long time and the next...well...let's just say I'm wary." I cracked a smile. 

"I'm not good at dealing with people," I said, "I avoid them mostly. You're the first person who seems to get this place, and I was afraid you were taking me for a ride." 

"We have trust issues," Amber said with humor in her voice. 

"We did," I observed. 

"We did," she agreed and held out her hand. I took it in mine. "Now take me to your workshop and show me your etchings." I had to laugh. Her timing was really good. I took her to my workshop. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 03



Author's note: Chapter 3 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 03

" 'Steal Your Face!' " Amber announced happily, looking up at the round window near the apex of east side of the roof. She wasn't lying about liking the Grateful Dead. I had filled the window with a frivolous stained glass ode to The Dead. A purple and red skull with a lightning bolt across the top. It was from the mid-70s album that Amber so accurately named. 

"It fits, doesn't it," I said with a proud smile. She nodded as she walked the rest of the way in. I had two sturdy 4x6 tables along one wall with lights hanging low over them. The other wall held metal shelves filled with supplies and my inventory of glass. There were two file cabinets that contained my design patterns and those I had purchased. In the center of the room was a large 8x8 table I used for final assembly. Most of my cutting and sanding was done on the tables along the wall. 

"It fits you," she smiled, moving close to a mostly assembled panel in the middle of the room. It was a restoration job. She picked up the old photo of the original panel that had disappeared from an old house. The new owners wanted a replacement that matched the original. I had to guess at some of the colors since the photo had yellowed. "This is really good," she said, holding the photo next to the panel. My ego basked in her praise. It was always worth more than the dollars. 

She walked around the room, looking at suncatchers and panels I had hanging on the walls. She stopped before one of my favorites. A medium-sized panel of a lighthouse sitting on the rocks in a storm. The clouds and water had taken me a long time to get right. I wasted so much glass trying to add a forcefulness to the curves. It was one of my pet projects and won't leave my sight until I'm dead. 

"You are really good," Amber said, "I can almost feel the wind and rain." I wanted to jump up and down, but remained humbly quiet. Very few people have seen my workshop. A couple of customers who live within a half-days drive and an old friend I go fishing with once a year. He understands me like no one else could. Though Frank doesn't have the toned legs that Amber has, he knew my sordid past. 

"Is everything for sale?" Amber asked. 

"I only sell commissioned work," I replied, "the stuff you see hanging around is just for me. Well, except for the panel with the four ducks." I pointed at a panel hanging near the door, "It was never picked up." It was an ugly thing when outside of the country kitchen it was meant for. Four cartoon ducks marching in gray galoshes. 

"Didn't they like it?" 

"It was for an old couple," I said, "the wife died before it was finished, and he had no interest in it. I let him off the hook," I chuckled, "it's kind of ugly anyway." 

"Poor ducks," Amber pouted. She moved on making little comments here and there. I had about fifty pieces hanging, and she didn't miss a one. A private showing. "Is it hard to do?" she asked as she looked at some of the small suncatchers. She was admiring one of the three dragonflies I had created. They had four psychedelic free-floating wings each. 

"When I started it sure was," I replied, "now I get mired more in the art than the technique. A large window might give me some trouble, but it is mostly the design I struggle with." 

"You're the first true artist I can say I know," Amber said, looking at me with her pretty smile. I gave her an exaggerated bow. My mouth wanted to go on and brag about my glass. I kept it shut and was surprised when it listened to me. 

"How about some breakfast?" I offered.

"Okay, but I'm cooking," Amber demanded. I knew she felt she needed to contribute. I had no problem letting her. I was a weak cook. Cereal was the highlight of my mornings. 

The french toast was good. Very good. We would have to go shopping to replace the bread we just finished, but it was worth it. Amber had mixed some vanilla in with the eggs and sprinkled cinnamon over the finished product. I didn't even know I had vanilla in the cupboard. Must have been one of my ex's purchases. The toast almost didn't need syrup. Almost, but any chance to add sugar was never lost on me. 

"So, you were married once," Amber commented after we discussed the existence of the vanilla. 

"Yes," I sighed. I didn't enjoy the rehashing one of my greatest failures. "Sandra and I had nothing in common except love in the beginning. Unfortunately, that faded quickly as our differences became known. We hung on for a few years, fighting the inevitable. That was our biggest mistake, holding out until we disliked being around each other. We can't even talk civilly anymore." I needed to apologize to Sandra. I added that to my list of life to-dos. 

"She didn't like this place," Amber said. I found her assumption astute. 

"It was hell on earth to her," I added with mirth. Sandra actually hated the isolation, not the house or grounds. She needed people, thousands of them around her at all times. She was a city girl. "I suspect your relationship was worse," I said, going off our previous conversation. 

"Much worse," Amber replied. She didn't elaborate and I let it go. I could see the pain it caused her. Her face changed, became more sullen. I didn't like it so I changed the subject. 

"You promised to show me Dido," I reminded her. Her smile returned. It pleased me more than it should. 

"Computer?" 

"In my office," I said, pointing to what should have been an extra bedroom. Not that it mattered with only one full bath. We left the dishes and fired up YouTube. Dido live at Brixton Academy. Soft music began on a purple-lit black stage, led by a keyboardist. A delicate voice emerged and a white light illuminated a cute woman with soft blonde hair. The song was in my memory from somewhere, but I had discounted it in the past. Probably never survived my station surfing. This time I listened to the words. Listened to it while watching Amber sway. It was a beautiful song about a stubborn unrequited love. I closed my eyes and let Dido's voice wash over me. I saw glass, perfect pieces of color flowing in my mind. Soft-textured, joined in such a way they blended wonderfully to form a naturescape. Words to shapes and shapes to colors. 

"That is a very pretty song," I said. I had never used the word pretty to describe music before. I usually described songs by the emotion they invoked. I think Amber's presence changed that. I was seeing the music as well as feeling it. 

"She writes most of her songs," Amber said. I let my stubbornness for classic rock artists fade. I let the value of the new music grow. I wondered how many other musicians I have been discounting. On screen it said that the song was recorded in 2004. I smiled, thinking it was already a classic for most teenagers. It was new to me. I was disappointed when the song ended. Always a sign of a good tune.

"What else have I missed?" I asked seriously. 

"Pardon?"

"I stopped listening to new music in the early nineties," I informed her, "I can't believe I let it happen." I was seriously kicking myself. I had a hole where I didn't expect one to be. I wanted Amber to filter out the crap and fill it with the good music I missed. Dido's voice was still echoing in my mind. A wanting tenderness that lit up my imagination. 

"You're in love again," Amber smiled, "it's your artistic side." She was right. No matter what sense was being tempted, beauty had a way of drawing me in. 

"Not very manly, huh" I admitted. She kissed me. 

Shock was my first emotion. That it wasn't a peck on the cheek was even more surprising. The wanting tenderness of her lips made me ignore it all. My eyes closed, my arms drew her in and colors swirled in my mind. I lost myself in the kiss's beauty. My hand traveled up behind her hair, her neck was so soft. I wanted this. She broke away.

"Nope," Amber said, "all man." She smiled slyly, turned and left the room. I stood there, my arms still holding air where her body once stood. There was art in her kiss. I plopped down in the desk chair and stared at the screen. YouTube started another song entitled 'Thank You.' I let it sweep over me as I concentrated on the kiss. I didn't want another woman. No, that was no longer true. I didn't want another Sandra was more accurate. Amber had unknown issues. She also had artistic lips and great taste in music. She liked my glass. My mind wandered to her toned legs and that wonderful smile. I chuckled at the strange purple ends in her hair. 

Dido sang, "I want to thank you for giving me the best day of my life." I had to smile. It was one of the best kisses I had ever had. The surprise, coupled with emotion, embodied with the colors it generated, was exciting. I was disappointed when the kiss ended. Always a sign of a good kiss. I went after her. 

I found Amber pulling her clothes out of the dryer. She folded them one by one as I leaned against the door and she pretended she didn't know I was there. 

"I thought you were afraid I was going to make a pass at you," I said, trying to hide my smile. My mind was concentrating on her shorts as she leaned down to pull out another item. 

"Then I was afraid you wouldn't," Amber said, not looking at me as she continued to fold her laundry. I didn't move from the door. 

"I really enjoyed that kiss," I admitted, "I was wondering if you enjoyed it as well." Permission. I always needed permission. Why couldn't I just be that guy who grabs what he wants? That kiss should have been all the consent I needed. Amber turned towards me. There were tears in her eyes. Desire fled. 

"I shouldn't have," Amber garbled her words, "I wanted to...my life is shit and I wanted something nice for once. It was really nice." I moved toward her and she leaned into me. I let her hide her tears in my shoulder as I held her. We stayed that way for a long time, the laundry forgotten.

I avoided asking about her past. My curiosity was screaming at me, but it wasn't mine to know. I suspected knowing would also cause more problems than not knowing. I could give her my shoulder. That was easy. Watching her cry; that was hard. My history was to run from people whose problems couldn't be fixed with a flip of switch. A day ago she was homeless and hungry and now she was staying with me and using me for emotional strength. What was even stranger, I wasn't fighting it. I wanted to help and thought I wasn't doing enough. How did I get so flipped around.

"We're going grocery shopping," I announced. I felt her stifle a laugh. 

"That's your answer?" Amber asked.

"When in doubt, eat," I stated as if it was religious mantra. 

"Ice cream?"

"Of course."

"That actually sounds wonderful," Amber agreed. She lifted her head and wiped at the wet marks on my shirt where her head had lain. "Sorry about that." 

"I'll take a quick shower and we can be off," I said, after I was sure the tears were over. Whatever was wrong, was powerful. I could see it in her red eyes. I left her to finish her laundry while I showered and shaved. I hoped that her problems weren't as serious as she made them out to be. That didn't make them any less traumatic for her, but would make it easier to deal with. I had come to the decision I would help her deal with them if I could. Somewhere in the back of my head a little voice was screaming 'you are an idiot.' The kiss was drowning the voice out.

Amber played with the radio as we drove. I let her know it was hopeless. I could only receive three good stations out here, and they loved to play ads during the day. She got lucky and found some CCR playing. She smiled, all proud of herself. 

"Lucky girl," I commented.

"Lately," she agreed. "This isn't the way to town."

"We're going to Hamond's Country Store," I informed her, "the prices are higher and the selection smaller, but you don't have to burn half a tank of gas and half the day to get there. It's like its own mini mall. Rental trucks, post office, groceries, greasy spoon, cheap clothing and tourist trap for those who don't have enough trinkets." 

"Sounds enticing," Amber added facetiously. 

"They have ice cream." 

"It's sounding better by the minute," Amber laughed. It only took ten minutes to get to Hamond's at the junction of BB and state route 11. It had a parking lot ten times larger than it would ever need with only four cars parked out front. There were two rental trucks parked off to the side. The facade had a charming hick look to it, naked logs holding up the roof of the porch that ran along the length of the building. A few wood benches lined the porch, with old metal-banded wooden barrels as garbage cans. There were numerous hand-painted signs detailing all the facilities the store provided. 

"Tom," I said to the tall, gangling fellow behind the counter, "this is Amber. Amber, Tom." Tom moved his hand to his head and tipped an invisible hat.

"Hello, Amber," Tom greeted her. 

"Hi," Amber returned. 

"Tom ships all my finished glass," I informed Amber, "hasn't had one break on him yet." Tom nodded like it was nothing. His eyes were on Amber. 

"Looking for something special, Mark?" Tom asked. He looked at me a second before his eyes returned to Amber.

"Nope," I replied," just some groceries."

"And ice cream," Amber interjected with a smile. We headed off to the food section. Tom kept staring at Amber which seemed a bit creepy. Amber didn't seem to notice. I had never seen Tom ogle a woman before. He was usually more considerate. I let it go when we disappeared into the aisles with a cart. 

Hamond's wasn't much for selection. If you didn't like the brand of ketchup they were carrying, too bad, there wasn't another choice. It was something you learned to live with if you didn't want to take a trip into town. For Amber's benefit, we went down every aisle. She brightened as we shopped. We decided on spaghetti for dinner and she grabbed what we needed. She chose mint chocolate chip as the ice cream. We came to the toiletries aisle and a thought came to me. 

"I'm going to grab a bottle of wine to go with the spaghetti," I said and pointed down the aisle. "If there is anything you need, put it in the cart." 

"Are you sure?" she asked. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. Such a bold move for me. I felt like one of those guys who moved without permission. How I loved the smile I got in return. 

"Anything," I reminded her and took off in search of a good bottle of wine. I figured that if she needed any private things, she didn't want me standing over her. I strutted down the front of the store until I entered the liquor section. I knew nothing about wine. Luckily, Hamond's didn't have a lot to choose from. I found a pinot noir that was in a nice looking bottle. I picked it for the glass which I did know something about. The thin layer of dust on the bottle told me others had been ignoring it. I smiled, a homeless bottle for a homeless girl. 

I caught up with Amber in the produce aisle. She was putting some lettuce into the cart. "Salad okay?" she asked.

"Sounds good, though we'll need some dressing," I replied. I saw Tom out of the corner of my eye. He disappeared quickly, but I believe he was watching Amber. I had never known Tom to be so blatant. Maybe it was the purple hair. We don't get that many punk looks out here. I decided to stay close to Amber for the rest of our visit. 

It took us another ten minutes to finish shopping. It had been a long time since I had bought food for two. I think it had been a long time since Amber had planned meals. She was enjoying herself immensely. I was feeding off her happiness. Maybe avoiding everyone wasn't such a good life plan. I needed to get out more. 

We ended up filling four grocery bags. Amber seemed a little unsure about her toiletries, including some feminine products. I tried to reassure her by ignoring the whole scanning process. I just handed over my credit card and pretended like it didn't matter. Tom watched us leave. I waved and he sheepishly waved back. I had no idea what was up with him, but I was glad we were leaving.

"Thank you, Mark," Amber said as we started back.

"You're welcome," I replied, trying not to grin too freakishly. I was really having a lot of fun. I looked over, and she was smiling at me. I let my grin loose. "See if you can find us some music, Ms. Lucky." She, of course, did. 

We unloaded and I excused myself to work on the unfinished panel. I was already behind schedule and I had new glass that I wanted to turn into flowers and a hummingbird. My workshop was wired for sound and I used it often. This time I hooked up my phone, kicked on a free streaming service and choose Dido as the base. Her voice filled the room, and I had new motivation.

I attacked the panel, wanting to finish it as soon as possible. I had three more pieces to foil and I checked to make sure I ground the edges of the unfoiled pieces. I never trusted my memory with such things. I began to wrap the edges in foil. Some folks used machines to help with this part. Not me. Good music made the tedium bearable. The pains of the world washed away as the practiced monotony of the task settled my mind. Art was no longer a part of this portion. It was strictly mechanical technique. Years of practice had made this portion easy, but that didn't make it unimportant. A flaw in the work could weaken the completed structure. I found myself humming to the music as I worked. 

I finished one piece and ran the fid around the edge to make sure there were no gaps and it adhered to the edge of the glass well. I then had to get to my phone. It seemed the streaming service decided that if I liked Dido, I also liked some boy band. Wrong. I told it so with a thumbs down and it moved on to a pretty piano intro for a song called 'Foolish Games.' I wasn't sure, but it had to be better than the boy band. 

I went back to work as dark glass filled my mind. The words to the song felt like they were ripped from the singer's soul. I had to stop every once in awhile to take a breath. I had missed a lot by isolating my music tastes to the geriatric bands. These songs were like 'Dust in the Wind.' Simply beautiful, sung with heart I didn't think existed anymore. The Cat Stevens of my 21st century. It didn't take me long to foil the other two pieces. I refitted them into the glass puzzle to make sure nothing had changed. 

I broke out one of my soldering irons and flux. I began tinning the pieces. Brush on the flux and then applying a thin layer of solder over the foil. More comfortable routine to go with the new music. I got lost in the work and only had to correct my phone a couple of times. I was nearing the last of the pieces, bobbing my head to a song called 'The Hunter,' trying to understand the words when I noticed Amber out of the corner of my eye. She was leaning against the door, watching me work. She smiled when I looked up. She looked as comfortable as my work. 

I stood and turned down the music. "How long have you been there?" 

"Two songs," she replied, without moving away from the door. "I was watching you work. Do you know you suck your lips in when you go around a corner of the glass?" 

"I never thought about it," I said, with half a chuckle, "I just get into a rhythm and keep going." 

"Dinner's ready," Amber continued, "I didn't have the heart to stop you. The spaghetti will wait for us anyway." I looked up at the clock. A quarter to six. I was truly lost in the work. 

"Time to quit anyway," I said, and started to clean up my work, "I'll be there in five minutes." 

"You really enjoy that, don't you?" she asked, gesturing toward my work. I stopped cleaning and looked at her. It wasn't a rhetorical question.

"It's predictable and it's mine," I answered. "This place and my work, it's pretty much all I need to be happy. Of course, it helps that people are willing to pay for my art." 




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 03



"Disruptions must be upsetting," she added. Her face had lost its levity. I could see what she was getting at. 

"I need a disruption once in awhile to remind me I'm alive," I responded. I was about to add something humorous. Somehow I held back and kept to the truth. My mouth listened to my brain for once. "You are a wonderful disruption. The best I have had in a long time." Her smile returned and grew into her eyes. 

"I'll set the table," Amber said as she turned and exited the workshop with a small bounce. I watched her leave and stood staring at the door for a second. Her image was still in my brain as if I had soldered it in place. I wanted more disruption. 

I was surprised when I entered my bathroom to wash up. It was sparkling. I opened the shower door, and it looked new inside. The place smelled clean and looked so different. Obviously, it had been dirtier than I thought. I remembered Amber saying she would clean in exchange for a place to stay. I kind of figured the cooking would take place of that. She must have thought differently. 

"The bathroom looks brand new," I complimented as I entered the kitchen. 

"It needed a good cleaning," Amber responded. I could feel her happiness at me noticing. She had a desire to please me I found uncomfortably endearing. 

"You didn't have to," I added.

"I wanted to," she replied. "You work on your art, and I'll take care of your house." Amber had it all worked out. An even trade in her mind. I loved my art and hated cleaning bathrooms. It was rather uneven from my point of view, but I kept that to myself. 

"That will work out nicely," I said with big smile. She seemed happy I agreed. 

Dinner was relaxing. Amber had made salad to go with the spaghetti and the wine I guessed at wasn't terrible. We talked lightly about movies and joked about the things people do we found irritating. I found out a lot about her during that dinner. She was kindhearted, though I guessed that already. She had a strong sense of fairness that she felt the rest of the world ignored. Most people were trying to win an unwinnable game and she played by a different set of rules. I could relate to that. People were always struggling to get the upper hand on everyone else, one of the many reasons I stepped into hermit status. 

I tried to do the dishes. One of the few things my ex and I got right is that the cook never cleaned. If I am going to sit back in enjoy someone's labor, it was only fair that the chef got a respite when it was done. 

"Dishes are mine," Amber demanded. Her tone was soft, but there was no negotiation room. 

"Then let me dry," I offered. I have no idea why I insisted on helping. Maybe habit. She obviously felt this was part of her payback. She hesitantly agreed and smiled. My heart leapt. I had insisted because I wanted to be next to her. As close as I could be. 

"You know so little about me," Amber pointed out. "Why are you so nice?" A simple question to be sure. A very difficult one to answer. 

"Selfishness, I guess," I blabbered without thinking. "It makes me feel good. You need help and I enjoy helping you. I'm not sure why..." She interrupted me with a kiss. Again, I got lost in her lips, my eyes closed and beautiful colors flowed in my mind. Clouds moving across a gentle sky, Amber's hair flowing in a warm breeze. Soft whites mixed freely with natural greens. Images formed, stronger than with the first kiss. Power invaded, a strong longing to run free. A memory of her smile making the colors richer. She broke the kiss. I could have been there all night.

I let out my breath. Her eyes were searching mine. Whatever she found there made her happy. I so wanted her happy. "You like to surprise me," I pointed out. She moved from my immediate grasp and started to collect the dishes. 

"Only when you surprise me," she replied. Amber looked very pleased with herself. She was teasing me in a most wonderful way. I knew where it was heading, but I wasn't going to rush it. It was all far too pleasant to screw it up with unnecessary speed. 

Amber washed and I dried. I touched her every chance I could, no longer thinking it too forward. She would hand me a plate, and I would always make sure our hands met when I took possession. I could see in her eyes that she knew what I was doing. She slid her hip out and bumped mine with a sly smile. I bumped softly back. We ended up finishing the dishes, our bodies so close it made it more difficult, but so much more enjoyable. We were like children, insisting our way was the the best way because it made us laugh. 

We sat on the couch and watched 'Elementary.' I spent most of the time happily explaining the characters to Amber. Taken out of context, the relationships were strange. She didn't seem to mind helping me catch up on my programs. We sat lopsided, the left side of the couch empty as we squeezed tightly to the right. Amber curled her legs underneath her and laid along my side. It was the most comfortable I had been in a long time. As the second show progressed, she laid her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. Her breathing became slow and steady. A slight smile rested on her lips. It pleased me she was so content.

I lowered her head to my lap. She shifted, increasing her comfort while a sweet sigh escaped her lips. I laid my arm over her shoulder and idly played with her hair as I watch the rest of the program. Amber fell asleep as my arm protected her from nothing in particular. When the show ended, I turned off the TV and laid my own head back enjoying our closeness. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 04



Author's note: Chapter 4 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 04

"Mark." The word was soft and matched with a kiss. I was startled awake. "You're not sleeping on the couch again." I opened my eyes and stretched my neck. I could feel the muscles cramping near the shoulder. Must have picked a bad angle to nod off. 

"No," I said to my smiling angel, "I'm fine out here." Another soft kiss on my lips as she stood and walked around to the back of the couch. I tried to follow her with my eyes, but my neck cinched up on the left side. 

"No more couch for you," Amber whispered. Her fingers found my neck, and I groaned as she quickly found the tightness. "You're not a kid anymore," she joked as I leaned my head into her fingers. 

"That is kind of wonderful," I said. "How long were we out?"

"It's almost midnight," Amber replied. The massage was turning my muscles to jelly. The pressure was perfectly applied I didn't want it to stop. 

"Seriously," I repeated, "I'll just grab a pillow and I'll be fine out here." 

"Nope," Amber returned, her lips inches from my ear, "we'll share the bed." Her kiss barely scraped my earlobe. 

"Or we could share the bed," I repeated with a smile. Her magic fingers continued to relax me. 

"You'll have to stay on your side." She laid out the rules. "No funny business." Another kiss. She shouldn't kiss me and ask me to adhere to border restrictions. 

"I'll take the left side," I agreed. I had always sleep on the right with my ex. I didn't want to repeat that pattern. 

"What if I want to left?" Amber asked, her lips finding my neck. Her negotiation skills were weak. I felt her smile every time her lips touched my skin.

"Deal breaker," I bluffed, "I'll have to sleep on the couch." 

"I concede to your demands." Amber laughed. Her breath sent a shiver down my neck which I hid by rising. I was glad I stood when I did. A few more seconds of her sensuality would have required an embarrassing walk to a cold shower. I moved my head back and forth; the kink was gone. 

"You are really good at that," I complimented, rubbing my neck subconsciously.

"I worked for a chiropractor," Amber said as she started toward the bedroom. "Some of it rubbed off." I gave a small snicker since that was all the pun was worth. I was tired, but I still watched her gorgeous shorts as she walked away. I could swear she was accentuating the movement of her hips purposely. I was being teased. It was cruel of her and I liked it. 

I followed her into the bedroom and found myself wondering about the logistics. We both stood there for a second, seemingly with the same thoughts. 

"Do you have a t-shirt I can borrow?" Amber asked sheepishly. Her backpack was pretty small. I guess she was short of sleepwear. 

"Bottom drawer," I answered, pointing to the left side of the dresser, "take your pick."

"Thanks," Amber responded, "you can use the bathroom first." I smiled, grabbed some pajamas I rarely wore from the dresser before heading off. I usually just slept naked since I was alone. Now, a little decorum was in order. After I emptied my bladder, I brushed my teeth and combed my hair. It was kind of vain to take care of my hair before going to bed, but Amber was looking cuter by the hour. I had some desire to not disappoint her. After I changed into my PJs, I headed out. 

Amber was waiting in the bedroom. She found my Grateful Dead, Blues for Allah t-shirt. It looked so much better on her. I found myself wondering if she had anything on underneath since it dropped to just above her knees. 

"You said you liked the Dead when you slept," she said with her wonderful smile. She gave me a runway model turn and then small curtsy. What a tease. 

"Good choice," I agreed. She scampered past me into the bathroom. I turned off the overhead light and turned the nightstand light on. I climbed into the left side of the bed and put my hands behind my head on the pillow and waited. I felt silly about wanting to share the bed with Amber. It wasn't like I was expecting anything to happen that night. Hell, we hardly knew each other. Then again, she had been teasing me. The choice of the Grateful Dead t-shirt was for my benefit. She had to pass up half a dozen shirts to find that one. I knew I was going to be a gentleman. Amber had asked for a boundary and I wasn't going to violate it. Oddly, having her sleeping next to me in bed was more important than my desire for sex. It was strange that my libido was shifting in that direction. 

Amber came out of the bathroom and I smiled when I noticed she had run a comb through her hair as well. There were many ways for her to get to the right side of the bed. I was pleasantly surprised when she decided to climb over me to get there. She stopped halfway, straddling me, and gave me a long kiss that sent my passion surging. My libido wasn't shifting as much as I thought. I could feel that she lacked a bra and my mind began to undress her. I unlocked my fingers from behind my head with the desire to prolong things. She moved quickly, rolling over to the right side. I looked over to see her smiling and biting her bottom lip at the same time. 

I rolled onto my side, cocked my elbow and propped my head with my hand. "Why are you teasing me so mercilessly?" I asked, my smile making sure she didn't take it wrong. I wanted to reach out and play with her hair since it was covering part of her cheek. I didn't. I had been given boundaries. 

"You don't like it?" she responded with a question. It wasn't lost on me that she didn't answer. This was all play to her. 

"It's very nice," I replied, "I am almost to the point of being unable to think of anything else. Are you intending to drive me crazy?" I wanted so much to push her hair away from her face. I wanted to see all of it at one time.

"Maybe," she joked. I watched her smile disappear. "I like you, Mark. I'm just not ready for more. I still want a little though." She reached up and pushed her hair behind her neck. I would have kissed her for that if the invisible wall wasn't there. "I'm being selfish, I guess" she admitted.

I smiled at her confession. "I can live with that," I said softly. I paused for a moment, then added, "I like you too." That brought her smile back. It was obvious to the both of us, but it was still wonderful to put a voice to it. I figured the best thing to do was get some sleep before we ruined our truce. I rolled to my other side and turned off the nightstand light. I settled in with my body turned away from her. I decided that was the best way to quiet my wandering mind. 

Amber violated the boundary. She scooted close and spooned herself behind and draped her arm over me. Her t-shirt covered breasts felt wonderful on my back. 

"You've violated the boundary," I commented as I let her settle in. 

"The rule is for you," she whispered, "I already admitted I was selfish." 

"Hmm," I sighed as we got comfortable. I felt her lips on my neck. A tender kiss goodnight. I fell asleep very content with life. 

I woke before Amber in the morning. We had separated sometime in the night as couples always do. She had one leg out of the covers and the t-shirt was pushed half way up her tummy. She looked absolutely wonderful in the morning light. Her white panties afforded her some privacy, but added to her adorable mystique at the same time. I wanted to run my hand up her leg just to see how soft it was. I remembered the boundary and held back. My eyes would have to be enough. 

The purple ends on her hair amused me. It was so not her. I could see the lighter roots better and could guess she was a natural brunette. It would look better on her than the black hair she had now. I could see she had a silver belly button stud. It was a small circle with a design etched into it. I couldn't quite make it out without violating the boundary rule. It just added to her mystery. 

"Good morning," Amber said quietly. I looked up from her belly into smiling eyes. She had caught me checking her out, but she didn't move to cover up. "What are you doing?" She already knew the answer, but I could tell she was loving the asking of it. 

"Teasing myself," I answered quickly, "I can be selfish, too." Amber sat up and I was disappointed when her t-shirt dropped back down to her waist. She straddled me again and kissed me with the same passion. This time, she let my hands wander along her sides. I began to pull up her t-shirt as my passion swelled. Amber laughed at my attempt and quickly rose from the bed. 

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied, my tone dropping to a sigh. I watched her leave, her butt swinging to and fro. She was simply delicious. I took a deep breath and climbed out of bed. I went to the bathroom and got dressed in my walking shorts. I met up with Amber in the kitchen. She had just turned the pot on. 

"Go for a walk after?" I suggested. 

"Absolutely," Amber replied. She reached up into the cupboard to get some cups, exposing the bottom of her panties. Simply delicious. "Are you working again today?"

"Yeah," I answered, "I think I can finish the panel today." I sat down on the opposite side of the counter. 

"Will you teach me?" she asked. I raised my eyebrows. It was a completely unexpected request. I had never taught anyone my art. Most people take a class or two and then learn on their own. The perfect hermit talent. The coffee maker started gurgling, and I realized I hadn't answered. 

"I would be happy to." The thought was surprisingly pleasing. I had no idea if she would get the joy out of it that I did, but it was worth a try. Her face lit up. My day brightened. Steam bled off the the top of the coffee carafe with a hiss. 

I walked over to the french doors, opened them and walked out onto the porch. I loved this time of year. The temperature was accommodating and the bugs had yet to fully invade. Most of the animals were active, the birds chirping for mates. I loved this place and for some reason, it was even nicer today. I took a deep breath while I watched a cardinal flitting about the grass looking for a meal. His color was bright and matched my mood. 

Amber came out a few minutes later carrying two cups of coffee. I thanked her when I took mine and we sat. She again tucked her legs on top of the chair, this time exposing more than a woman should as the t-shirt bunched up. I tried to hide my smile. 

"It is really nice out here," Amber observed, "no alarm clocks or time cards, just nature." She took a sip of her coffee. I followed suit. 

"You could get lonely out here," I pointed out. I had no problem with that issue, but it wasn't for everyone. 

"I've been lonely in the middle of a city," Amber said, "out here it would be tolerable." She paused, looking toward the river. "Almost welcome." I stared at her. She completely understood this place. She turned toward me and my stunned expression. "What?" she asked with a humorous smile. 

"Most people think I am pretty strange living out here all alone," I pointed out. 

"Most people don't know real pain," she said. She raised her cup to her lips, her eyes never leaving mine. She saw something in me. Something I thought was well hidden. Things I would prefer forgotten. I had to look away for a moment and see the green in the trees. I let my mind drift to the glass I would choose to duplicate the scene in front of me. I looked back after a moment to find her still watching me. If only my ex had seen what Amber saw so easily. 

"You can stay here as long as you would like," I stated clearly.

"I am in world of trouble," Amber returned. 

"I don't care if you shot the Pope," I said. Her eyes went glossy. She tried to take another sip of her coffee, gave up and put her cup down. She stood and took my cup from my hands and put it next to hers. She sat in my lap and laid her head on my shoulder. I held her in silence as I absorbed her closeness. After a moment, she raised her head, and with tears on her cheeks, she kissed me. This time we didn't stop. We needed each other. I caressed her thigh with one hand as the other held her securely on my lap. It was sensual, needful and held no lust. It was clear glass with smooth ripples of white clouds blown in. I loved her lips. There was no question they should be soldered to mine. My heart opened and the hermit fled.

"I want to walk with you," Amber whispered.

"I would like nothing more," I said, my smile growing as I carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks. I wanted to walk the day away with her. "You'll need some shoes," I pointed out her bare feet as if it was necessary. 

"I'll be right back," she said. Kissed me one more time before rising and heading back into the house. I picked up my coffee and took a slow sip. Everything had changed. The land's colors were brighter, the sky bluer and my mind was no longer clear. All my thoughts were drifting, then mixing with thoughts of Amber. I was losing my sharpness of purpose. I couldn't care less. I closed my eyes and thought of everything through the colored glass that was Amber. All of if it was haphazardly more beautiful. Such delicious randomness.

"I'm ready," Amber announced as she came back out. Shorts, tennis shoes and a t-shirt that fit a bit more snugly. 

"Let's see if the river is still flowing," I said, standing and taking her hand. We headed out, Amber setting a brisker pace than yesterday. I loved the way she practically bounced through the grass, well satisfied with everything. She started moving quicker, and I stretched out my pace. I heard half a laugh as she began to run, her hair flowing in waves behind her. I jogged after her, catching up and matching her stride as we moved quickly down to the river. About 50 yards before the river, she broke into a sprint, and I knew I was in a race. Her timing was perfect, just enough lead to make sure I didn't have time to catch up. She reached the dock before I did. The joy in her face was worth the loss. 

Amber jumped into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist. She trusted I wouldn't topple over as she smothered my lips with hers. I used my hands to hold her butt so she wouldn't drop off. Happy kisses were better than the tear-driven ones. She was lighter than I had expected and seemed to mold around me with ease. 

"I want to stay," Amber said, "more than anything, I want to stay here with you." I had thought that was already agreed to. She seemed to think she hadn't answered. I didn't care. Happy Amber was enchanting. I let her slowly drop to her feet. I lightly pushed her hair behind her ear. 

"I'm glad," I said, and, for the first time, I kissed her lips of my own volition, holding the back of her neck as we joined. I loved the softness of her flesh. I loved how she pushed into me, wanting me as much as I wanted her. The bubbling of the river and the call of the birds surrounded us. She was, without a doubt, the best thing this land had ever seen. 

We walked the whole perimeter. We talked as we walked leisurely, enjoying the mild temperatures. I did not press on the 'world of trouble' issue. I meant what I said when I told her it didn't matter. It did, of course, matter to her, but It wouldn't affect how I felt about her. I had decided she would tell me in her own time. Instead we talked about movies, books, flora, fauna and anything else that kept words traveling between us. I didn't have to feign interest when talking with Amber, even the banal topics were like music. 

"I have to ask," I said, putting her hand in mine, "why are the ends of your hair purple?" Amber got quiet and thoughtful. I was afraid I had delved into something that was still too personal. 

"It reminds of me someone," she answered cryptically. I nodded and decided to be content with her answer. It was only hair color after all. She stopped and I could see resolution in her face. She took my other hand in hers and stood before me. "I have a daughter," she continued, "purple is her favorite color. I wear it so I won't forget." The revelation was softly shocking. I hadn't expected it, but it was not out of the realm of possibilities. It did require a follow up. I had to know how deep in I was. 

"Are you married?" I asked, retaining her hands in mine. I wanted her to know I was all in, but I had to know the rules. 

"No." She smiled. I was more relieved than I expected to be. 

"Can we talk about her?" I said, releasing her left hand and continuing our walk. 

"The idea doesn't frighten you?" Amber asked. Again, she was testing the waters and not answering. It was her past and I would leave her to it if she desired. 

"The big Amber is enchanting," I half joked, "why wouldn't a little Amber be wonderful as well." She pulled me closer and pecked my cheek. That caused me to smile. We were silent for a few steps, then Amber began.

"Elizabeth is nine," she said, "everyone calls her Lizzy. She is staying with my mother because of...everything." She waved her arm around as if encompassing all that was everything. "She will be going into the fourth grade this fall." Amber's face brightened as she continued. "She likes to dance and takes classes every Tuesday. She's smarter than most of the kids her age and seems to have a lot of friends." She paused again and looked up at me. "You would like her, she is always drawing things."

"How long have been away?" I asked, then instantly regretted the question. 

"Too long." Amber sighed. "I'm afraid she will forget me." The last part came out choppy. I knew I shouldn't have asked. "Going on three months now." 

"So what does she like to draw?" I asked, trying to shift away from the bad parts of the conversation. Amber went deeply into Lizzy's artistic talents. Then we discussed her reading level, which seemed high for a fourth grader. I was then treated to every funny thing Lizzy had done since she was born. Amber missed her deeply. Empathetically, I began to miss Lizzy myself.

I wanted to ask, right then and there, what she was running from, who and where the father was, but I held back. She wasn't ready to tell me yet. I wasn't sure I could help, but I wanted to attempt it. Instead, I listened. A skill I learned that morning. My mouth listened to my brain and my mind wasn't in the boat-rocking mood. I was proud of myself. 

Breakfast was scrambled eggs and toast. We had picked up blackberry jelly at Hamond's to add sweetness to the meal. I was getting used to a large breakfast. I had trained my stomach to ignore it for so many years, it never knew what it was missing. It had quickly relapsed. Of course, it was nice that Amber insisted on doing the cooking. The conversation was light since we had both silently agreed we had had enough drama for the day. 

"I going to hop in the shower," I said as I dried the frying pan. 

"Good idea," Amber smiled, "me too." She was draining the sink, no smile and no eye contact. I stood there with a towel and the pan trying to decipher what that meant. She looked up slowly and her smile formed. "There's room for two, isn't there?" 

"It will be tight, and I suspect..." Amber interrupted my weak attempt at humor with her lips. This time they parted and our tongues and passion mixed. I dropped the towel and laid the pan on the counter as I wrapped my arms around her. I started walking backward slowly, drawing her toward the bedroom, trying desperately to not interrupt our lips. I almost tripped on the edge of the throw rug and Amber half kissed, half laughed. She separated from me for safety's sake and crossed her arms at the bottom of her t-shirt and lifted it up and off as she moved ahead of me. I started removing my clothes as I hurried after her. I stepped over her bra that she dropped carelessly. She kicked off her shoes, stepped on her socks to remove them, then bent over to drop her shorts and panties in one fell swoop. 




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 04



I slowed, awed by her cute butt. The buns were so proud, high atop her thighs and acting as the base of a flowing hourglass figure. She turned confidently, and I caught my breath when the rest of her came into view. 

"You coming?" Amber said, her smile was everything. I quickly lost the rest of my clothes, as I tried to memorize her breasts. She seemed pleased with my desire. I could only hope so because it was climbing higher by the second. She turned and entered the bathroom to start the shower. I entered after, standing behind her as she reached in to turn on the water. My hands started at her shoulders and ran down her sides, thrilled with her softness. An involuntary shiver ran through her, followed by a small giggle. She felt the water, turned the nozzle warmer and turned into my arms. When her breasts found my chest, my breath left my lungs in a rush. Her hand found my erection with no hesitation. 

"How long?" she asked. We were in sync. I knew exactly what she meant since it was written in her eyes.

"A couple of years," I answered before I kissed her. I wanted my lips to live there next to hers. I pushed her hair behind her shoulder. "You?"

"The same," Amber replied and then moaned as my lips tasted her neck. It was was so soft and pliable. Her loving hand was so gentle that my need rose quicker than I expected. She smiled when my manhood twitched, obviously enjoying her power over my passion. She let go and tested the water again, then pulled me into the shower. 

The water was as warm as Amber. I closed the glass door behind me and embraced her under the waterfall. She shifted her leg to embrace my erection between her thighs. I could feel her desire in the demands of her lips and hands. I cupped her wet breast in my hand, enjoying its weight and supple feel. I bent down and kissed the gorgeous globe lightly. Amber used her hands to quickly guide my lips to her nipple and pressed me into it. I tickled it with my tongue as I bit softly with my lips. I loved the sounds she made. I moved to her other breast and she duplicated the purrs. I let my hand drift between her legs which she parted in silent agreement. I raised my head from her breasts. Her head was was leaning back, hair in the cascading water, as I ran my finger along her opening. Her mouth opened, smiling with an exhalation fused with desire. She was as ready as I was. Our foreplay was for pleasure only. 

Amber lifted her leg up along my hip. A round of laughing ensued as we struggled to join without falling. I didn't remember sex being so much fun. Eventually, using the wall for support, and her hand as a guide, I entered her. Heaven. Our eyes met at the moment of penetration. Love. Movement was slow, sensual and a requirement to remain standing. I studied her face, her smile and those eyes, as we moved. I had never seen anything so beautiful before. Her foot slipped a little and the laughing returned. I secured her in my arms; there was no way I was going to let this end in a fall. I shifted my hips and went deeper, wanting more of her. Her eyes went dreamy and she began to shudder. She buried her head in my shoulder and pulled me tight as tremors traveled through her. I had never felt so sexually powerful in my life. I held her as my own need grew, slowly withdrawing and returning. She lifted her head as my legs began to shake, a sated look on her face.

"Not in me," she sighed, her hand reached up and stroked the side of my face. Her smile reaching deep into my soul as I withdrew. Her hands quickly wrapped my member as her lips found mine. I moment later, release found me. My spasms traveling quickly to her hands. My insides bursting as we shared the same air. It lasted longer than I remembered it could. I opened my eyes to Amber's happy smile. She was still massaging me softly, causing involuntary jerks she seemed most pleased about. She was so lovely. We kissed in the afterglow.

"Sorry I didn't warn you," Amber whispered as we held each other under the water, "I forgot I ran out my prescription a while back." I kissed her neck and worked my way to her ear. 

"It wasn't any less wonderful," I admitted. We both got lost in the moment and almost ignored practicality. That got me a tight squeeze. I loved the way her breasts pressed into me. I had forgotten how nice it was to lose your inhibitions with another person. I hadn't been this comfortable with someone in... I had never felt so comfortable with someone. My ex and I more or less tolerated each other. Even in the beginning, sex was as much a duty as it was pleasurable. There was no duty in this shower; only desire. 

"You're losing your color," I observed as I washed Amber's hair. I ran my finger along her part, indicating where the roots were showing. 

"I guess I shouldn't have gone so dark," she said. I continued to massage her head with my fingers. I liked how her head moved into my hand as she enjoyed the sensations. 

"I could touch it up for you," I said, "maybe move the purple from the bottom to a thin ribbon down the side." I ran my hand down where I thought the stripe should go. It was wrong to think I could change her looks. I suddenly thought my mouth had gone too far, "I mean...I could...but you look wonderful the way your are." Amber laughed at my fumbling.

"I'd like that," she said, turning to give me a kiss so I knew she didn't take it the wrong way. That she knew I felt badly about it, was telling. She was figuring me out quickly and wasn't running for the hills. She didn't see my smile as I went back to washing her hair. She leaned into me, and I forgot all about my traitorous mouth.

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 05



Author's note: Chapter 5 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 05

"We'll start you with a suncatcher," I said excitedly. We were in my workshop and I had a willing apprentice. It didn't hurt that she was also gorgeous and liked the Grateful Dead. I went to the file cabinet where I stored patterns. I was way past using store-bought myself, but never threw them away. Sometimes they even offered ideas, things I hadn't thought of myself. I pulled out the simple ones, where the cuts weren't too complex and the project could be completed somewhat quickly. Nothing is worse than not getting that sense of completion on your first attempt.

"Okay," Amber agreed. She stood by my side as I spread out a bunch of patterns on the table. She picked a few to examine more closely. "I think I like this one," she said, holding up a flower pattern with five, almost heart-shaped, petals. Her smile told me she had cemented her decision.

"Now you need to choose your glass," I said.

"Already," she said surprised, "no lessons or anything."

"The best way to learn is to do it," I informed her as I moved to the boxes that held my glass. Some of the glass I had ideas for. Things I was going to make that would be difficult to part with. I looked at Amber's inquisitive face, those wonderful lips and I remembered how her eyes looked in the shower. Screw it, she was worth more than any idea. "Pick out the glass you want to use for the petals and the center," I said, waving my hand over all the boxes. The ideas fled for the moment. I could always find more. I pulled one box over on a whim. "There's a bunch of purplish glass in this one."

"For Lizzy," Amber said with a determined tone.

"For Lizzy," I agreed, nodding. Amber started going through the glass, pulling out and examining some of the sheets more closely before placing them carefully back in the box. I saw her eyes light up when she saw a foggy white sheet with smoky waves of purple meandering through. She had a good eye.

"Can I use this one?" she asked. Her smile already paid me for it. I had had visions of using it as the higher portion of a sunrise scene. Her smile was worth a hundred sunrises. I had never had something supersede my art before. It was a phenomenal change.

"It will be perfect," I answered. She was giddy when she kissed me. She wasn't feigning interest for my benefit. She was truly excited which, of course, increased my excitement.

"What do I do next," Amber prompted.

"You have to decide how get five petals out of it," I said, leading her over to one of the work tables where I usually cut my glass. I grabbed a piece of scrap glass on the way to give her something to experiment with first. "When you cut, you have to go from one edge to another and you can't make your curves too tight. It's not like using scissors," I instructed as I pulled out a cutter and uncapped a small well of oil. I dipped the cutter in the oil, placed the scrap on the table and scored the corner about an inch deep. "That crackly sound means you're doing it right. You don't have to push too hard, just listen for the sound." I grabbed some glass pliers and snapped off the corner easily, exactly where it was scored. I put the scrap back down on the table and handed Amber the cutter. "Your turn."

I was surprised when she dipped the cutter in the oil first. Usually, a new person would forget the simple things. She went a little slowly as she scored the glass, pushing harder than she needed to, but she did go from edge to edge. She looked up at me when she was finished.

"Snap it with the pliers," I said, pointing to the glass pliers. She carefully positioned the pliers and bent them until the glass snapped along her score line. It was like Christmas. Her face lit up as she examined the cut. "You're an expert," I exaggerated. She quickly tried a few more cuts to raise her confidence.

"What's next?" she asked impatiently. I couldn't believe how infectious her enthusiasm was. Glass had always been so private before and now I wanted nothing more than to share it with her.

"You have to cut out the pattern," I said, reaching for the copper foil shears. "We use these scissors and cut along the center of the lines. It creates a space for the copper foil that needs to go between the pieces of glass." I was getting so excited, I almost forgot pattern safety. "First, we need to make a copy in case something gets screwed up." I walked the pattern over to the desktop copier and ran off two copies - better safe than sorry. "When you work on something complicated, you actually have to label all the parts, but I don't think you can get lost with this since all the petals are the same." I handed the pattern back to her, and she began cutting. I watched as her mouth moved as she cut, almost as if she was chewing through the paper. Adorable.

"You're making me nervous," Amber said, smiling. I was standing too close, poised to jump in at the slightest error. I kissed her cheek and went to my own unfinished panel. I began setting up to finish covering the foil with solder. I plugged in my solder iron and retrieved the flux and a brush. I waited before starting, knowing she was almost done with cutting. It was a fairly simple pattern. A good one to start with.

"Now what?" Amber called when she finished. I hurried over with my knowledge.

"You glue the shapes on the glass," I said, as I reached for the glue stick. "Lay them out so you can liberate them from the glass separately. It will take many cuts to get the curves right, and you don't want the other pieces to interfere." I placed the unglued pieces down on the glass, shifting them so they could be easily separated by single cuts. "If you want certain color grains in the petals, now is the time to work that out." I watched as she shifted the petals around trying to maximize the purple in each petal while still leaving room for liberating cuts. She was a natural.

"Now glue them down," I continued when it looked like she was finished laying them out. "Make sure all the corners are glued down tightly." I reluctantly went back to my own work. Even a kindergartner knew how to glue so I resisted the temptation to help her with the first ones. I wanted to do all the work for her.

"Now I start cutting?" Amber asked. I almost went running over. I stilled my desire, knowing that the creation needed to be hers. She had to learn on her own.

"Yep," I replied, "first cut a petal free from the others, then begin to trim the excess, cut by cut. It doesn't have to be absolutely perfect - just close. The grinder will take care of the smoothness." I pointed to the grinder, a white boxy thing with a metal spindle poking out of the top. Amber nodded and moved the oil closer and grabbed the cutter. She remembered the oil. I let her work and learn on her own.

I walked over to my stereo system and plugged in my phone. I fired up the streaming, selecting Dido once again. The music started, Amber smiled at me and we went to work. There was something soothing about working with glass. It would be hard to explain it to someone who has never done it. The colors were wonderful and detail was implied, but never implemented. You never had to sweat the small things. A painter had to worry about every stroke. A sculptor, every cut of the blade. In glass, simplicity mattered. Errors were easily corrected and most problems could be avoided with adequate planning. The art lay in the choice of glass and how you laid the grain. Simple choices in my mind, more difficult for others.

I got lost in the work that some would find tedious. Tinning the copper foil with solder is not everyone's cup of tea. I found it soothing and the image of what I was creating always urging me forward. My brain would wonder and contemplate life. It also allowed me to forget that which should be forgotten. It was my meditation.

Her kiss on the back of my neck was a good sign I was lost in my work. It startled me, but I recovered quickly. I put the soldering iron in its cradle and turned my attention to Amber.

"I'm done," she said smiling, talking loudly over the music. I walked over to her work and examined the petals. Damn fine job for one's first cuts. I could tell by the scraps she had overdone the necessary number of cuts trying to achieve perfection, but experience would cure her of that. I walked over to the stereo and turned off the music.

"They're perfect," I said.

"I had trouble with the tops of the heart part," Amber explained, "I'm not sure it's right."

"Nature is not perfect and neither should your petals be," I responded, "it is what makes them yours." It is one of the reasons I liked glass. Perfection was unnecessary, only desire. I peeled off the glued pattern on one of the petals and handed it to Amber. "The edges have burrs and are slightly uneven." She examined the edges critically. "You have to grind them down smooth and at the same time you can fix some of shaping if you like." She nodded as I spoke, looking closely at the edges that she cut.

"I'll teach you to grind after lunch," I said, looking up at the clock. We had been working for over four hours. She laid the petal down and fell into my arms.

"I love this," Amber admitted, "working together, yet working alone. It gives me time to think without being lonely." I could not fathom how she understood everything so quickly. I only knew that she did. My ex hated my love of glass. I think she was jealous of the way I lost myself in it. She never understood my need to meditate, then again, I never trusted her enough to tell her why. She was too weak to know.

"Figure anything out?" I asked.

"No, but I feel better about it," she replied and followed with a kiss. One of her passionate kisses that made my blood boil.

"How about a picnic by the river?" I asked. I knew the answer, but I loved asking the question.

"That sounds wonderful," Amber smiled. I unplugged the soldering iron, capped the flux and we headed out to the kitchen.

Peanut butter and jelly. Not a fancy feast, but very nice if you go light on the jelly. I always felt about five years old when I ate it, but there is nothing wrong with that once in awhile. We brought out two folding chairs and used the small cooler we carried the sandwiches and a jug of iced tea in as a table. We ate and watched the water run by. Very soothing. I reached over and took Amber's hand in mine and leaned back in the chair.

"I'm in a lot of trouble, Mark," Amber said quietly. My ears perked up, but I tried not to show any visible signs of interest. I didn't want her to shy away. I just sat quietly and let her continue. "I have some people after me that don't play by the rules. Because of that, I also have people after me who set the rules." She sighed, "I don't want to bring this into your home, so I stay hidden. I dug my own grave for many years and now I'm running from it." She looked at me with concern. I looked back wishing her to continue.

"I'm still here," I said. It earned me a small smile. I squeezed her hand in support.

"When the trouble catches up, you'll go running," Amber said, "I'll want you to." She was still afraid to tell me what it was. I was once used to trouble. For her, I could get used to it again.

"Running is not something I do well, Amber," I admitted.

"These are bad people, Mark," Amber continued. I was once used to bad people. For her, I could get used to them again. I smiled inappropriately at my inner joke. "I'm serious. I don't want anyone hurt." I lost my smile for her sake. She was only aware of the hermit artist. She didn't know the rest of me. I let it go for now. We both weren't ready to exchange the full truth.

"No one is going to find you here," I offered. Hell, few people even knew how to find me. My phone rang as if to prove me wrong. I let go of Amber's hand and answered. It was the Andersons wondering about that status of their replacement window. I told them I would ship it out tomorrow. The interruption ended the conversation we were having. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

I taught Amber how to grind her glass that afternoon and I assembled my panel in a temporary frame and began soldering it together. We lost ourselves in the music and in our own heads. I wondered who the bad people were. I thought I might be able to help with bad guys. It's the legal stuff I would have trouble with. I decided to give it another day and then press for information. That is, if she would let me. I smiled, remembering the shower. She could easily talk me out of it. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I was going to make a mess of the panel if I kept thinking of the shower and those kisses and that smile and those breasts. I was mentally soldering myself to her. It's doubly hard to solder when you're smiling.

Dinner was a happy affair. I had finished enough of the panel that I had little doubt I would be able to keep my promise and send it off tomorrow. Amber had finished earlier than I had, her grinding had gone well. She started dinner while I finished up. Simple chicken breasts baked in some herb concoction she had dreamed up. We spent some time discussing the fun she had cutting and grinding. She explained what she had learned as if I needed the knowledge. I just liked hearing her talk, so I listened. I was getting really good at listening. Of course, it had never been so enjoyable before.

Instead of TV, we played Gin Rummy. Two 100 point games after we were done with the dishes. I can be pretty competitive sometimes, but I didn't mind losing to Amber. We split one game apiece. I thought we should play a tiebreaker. Amber smiled and removed her shirt. I had no idea when she had removed her bra. The idea of a tiebreaker faded away quickly as she ran to the bedroom. I guess she liked the idea of being even.

Amber was down to her panties by the time I caught up with her. I loved how her breasts hung down when she bent down to remove her last article of clothing. I was working on my pants as I stepped on the backs of my shoes, trying to save time. She rushed over to help, laughing in the same way she did that morning. Desire mixed with fun. Absolutely no guilt, just pleasure. When I finally kicked off my last sock, I lifted her, cradling her in my arms and carried her the three steps to the bed. I loved how she laughed at my manly domination. She kissed me all the harder for it. I had a strong desire to persist in my dominance. I wanted to give her joy and be the sole cause of it.

I laid her carefully on the bed, climbing over the top of her to force her to lie down. She was feisty, so much love to give. I settled her with a deep kiss, then began to descend. My lips kissing and nibbling all the skin I could find. My hands caressing and lovingly pressing her back when she tried to rise. When my attentions finished with her breasts and dropped down to her abdomen, I heard a gasp and the most lovely "oh." I glanced upward into her beautiful smile as she slowly opened her legs for me. There was so much desire in her eyes as my wet lips kept moving lower. I kissed her tummy, just above her soft down line. Then I dropped down and softly kissed the inside of her left thigh. A wonderfully musky scent greeted me as I crossed over to the right thigh, teasing it with little nibbles.

Amber gave me an exasperated groan as I continued slowly to her flower. Her scent invaded, an aphrodisiac of the most powerful kind. I couldn't hold back any longer. I buried my nose in her down and my tongue lightly traced her opening. I loved the tremors it sent though her. She was so warm and oily sweet. I retraced, this time deeper. Her fingers combed into my hair, caressing, but not controlling. Deeper and warmer I searched, my tongue finding and damply caressing her nether lips, inching higher. Her clitoris had left its little hood and greeted me proudly. I dragged the flat of my tongue across it lightly. You would have thought I electrocuted her. Her legs shook and her hips dug into the mattress. It was all the encouragement I needed.

I put two fingers in my mouth and wet them as best I could. I teased her cute little bud lightly with the tip of my tongue, I slowly inserted one, then two fingers into her. She was so hot inside. Her hands gripped my hair as I slowly increased the pressure with my tongue, teasing her bud as my fingers explored her. My erection was straining. I ignored it as I concentrated on her pleasure. Every one of her involuntary twitches increased my own need.

Amber started cooing as my fingers softly probed deeper. I had never felt a woman so wet before. Her hips began to rise and her legs stiffened. I curled my fingers upward and stroked the ceiling of my desire. My tongue danced with her bud and Amber cried out, this time forcing my head into her pelvis. It was her orgasm, but somehow it extruded power to me. My eyes strained to watch her back arch, tummy and breasts thrust upward. I never slowed, excited at what I was doing to her. Her moans were delicious music to my ears. Flashes of shattered glass in unknown colors ran through my mind. It was too beautiful to quantify in art.

Out of no where, Amber started laughing and struggling to push my head away from my treasure. "Stop," she struggled between breaths, "it's too ticklish." I lifted my face, leaving my fingers inside her. She relaxed with a sated smile.

"It doesn't tickle me," I said with as much smart-ass as I could muster. She laughed, but used her hand to protect her clitoris from further attack. I relented, but kept moving my fingers softly, enjoying the access she allowed me.

"Come here, you wonderful man," Amber ordered. I removed my fingers and crawled up her body. She twisted and forced me to my back. She straddled me and lowered herself onto my erection without a thought. We fit together so well. She settled down, then leaned in and kissed my face, not caring where it had been. I returned the kisses while my arousal grew. My loins were straining after watching her in the throes of pleasure.

"Baby," I said, without thinking, "I'm not going to last long - too damn sexy." My breath was coming in gasps as I held on. The smile on her face was delicious as she stopped her movement. Her fingers lightly scraping my chest were the only things moving. She was so hot, I didn't think movement was all that was necessary.

"We're going to need condoms," Amber said, "lots and lots of condoms."

"Oh god," I groaned as images formed in my head. Lots and lots of images. She saw the signs and quickly dismounted and her mouth lovingly closed around me. The sensation was incredible. I lost it while she caressed my hips, her mouth coaxing me forward. I emptied into her and she accepted it without hesitation. It took awhile for my body to slow. She came up laughing.

"That was so sexy," Amber said, "I can't believe you got so turned on."

"You have no idea," I chuckled, "stop being so gorgeous and I'll last longer." She slowly crawled up me, dragging her nipples along my skin purposely. She certainly knew how to play. Our lips met and I didn't care what she tasted like. We wrapped up into each other and found a marvelous sense of comfort. All the tension I usually stored up was gone. Only Amber remained. We slept sideways on the bed, naked and in each other's arms. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 06



Author's note: Chapter 6 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 06

I woke to the smell of coffee. I could hear the hiss of the coffee maker and knew the pot was just completing its cycle. I raised my hand to rub the sleep out of my eyes and a wonderfully musky scent graced my nose. I could still smell her on my fingers. I smiled and enjoyed the sensual memory. I didn't know women could smell so good. The few women in my history didn't smell bad, but Amber was intoxicating. I went to find some boxers and a t-shirt. I found numerous reasons to bring my fingers near my nose. It was like a drug. I was getting aroused by a smell. I quickly washed my hands to cool myself off. I instantly regretted it. 

"Good morning, gorgeous," I said brightly when I entered the great room. Amber was behind the counter filling coffee cups. She turned with her smile intact.

"I was just about to wake you," she said as she put the cup down. She moved quickly and found my arms. I can't tell you how good it felt to have someone greet you that way first thing in the morning. She was wearing my robe, but it was untied. I was treated to happy breasts that seemed to enjoy the greeting as much as I did. We moved out to the porch to enjoy the morning and bask in the glory that was last night. 

"I wish I would have met you ten years ago, " Amber said as she sipped her coffee. 

"Does it feel right to you, too?" I asked, surprised that she sensed destiny as well. 

"We fit together," Amber said, "mentally and physically." She had a devilish smile when she said physically. I had to admire her confidence. Maybe the trouble she was in forced her to think more quickly and make decisions with less evidence. 

"I feel right around you," I said as best as I could, "I thought I was happy, but now I think I may have been miserable." I sipped from my cup, "I know you have a lot on your plate, but I want to add myself to your list of problems." I loved how she laughed. It was so light and held so much joy. 

"You, my lovely man, are not a problem," Amber said, lifting her bare feet up into my lap, "you are the oasis in the desert of my life." I moved my hand to her feet and softly cupped them. I loved that she was at ease enough to put her feet in my lap. I felt the connection between us strengthening. I almost probed for her troubles, but decided I was enjoying things too much to ruin it right then. 

We had our coffee and our walk. We seemed to find all sorts of reasons to hang on to each other. Humor became part of every trivial conversation and laughing couldn't commence without touching to emphasize the comedy. We found ourselves in a luscious bubble isolated from the rest of the world. Amber really needed the break, and I needed the wake up call to rejoin humanity. 

After breakfast, we hit the workshop. I finished my panel, and Amber applied foil to her purplish flower petals. I would teach her the aspects of soldering that evening. She was getting excited about that part, having watched me working on the panel. 

"I have to go to Hamond's and mail the panel after lunch," I informed her. We were having another picnic by the river. It was a little warmer than the day before, though still comfortable. "You want to come with me?" 

"Is it okay if I stay?" Amber asked, "I'd rather get some of the cleaning I promised done." She took a bite of her salad and looked at me like I might deny her. 

"Sure, but you don't have to clean," I replied. 

"Yes I do," Amber corrected me. Our first argument. 

"No you don't," I said, my smile was ruining my authoritative tone. Amber smiled and lifted her t-shirt above her breasts, letting them hang free in the air. I loved nature. 

"Yes I do," she continued. My eyes were glued to her chest as I tried to formulate a stronger argument. I gave up. 

"Unfair," I said, trying not to laugh. 

"Crying babies and argumentative men are so easily handled," Amber quipped as she enjoyed her salad 

"You do know how beautiful I find you?" I said seriously, my eyes leaving her breasts, moving to her dark eyes. She stared at me, unable to find words. I leaned over and kissed her over her salad. It was a tangy kiss, half Amber, half french dressing. She dropped her fork in her bowl and pulled me closer, french mixing with my ranch. Oui, oui, cowboy. 

"You stay and do what you want," I gave in, "just be here when I get back. Anything you want while I'm out?"

"Condoms," Amber said, her eyebrows bouncing. 

"There's no way I would forget those," I said, wearing a silly smile. Visions of the fun we were going to have had been burning in my brain all morning.

My ride to Hamond's was boring. I used to be able to entertain myself pretty easily. Now, I kept looking over at the passenger seat to see if Amber was there. It did give me some time to think without breasts in my face. I knew I had to find out what kind of trouble she was in. I wanted to make it go away and replace it with myself. She was my kindred spirit. We were the perfect pieces of glass that were meant to be soldered together. I tried to think of my house and peaceful lands without her. They would be dull and lack color. She was my color now. I was in love.

Then there was Lizzy. I couldn't have Amber without Lizzy. Once Amber's past was cleaned up, Lizzy would be part of the package. Kids need schools and care. I had no idea where the nearest school was. What kind of parent could I be? A crappy one most likely. I probably would make her more neurotic than I was.

Maybe I was just Amber's passing oasis. I tried to see things from her point of view. Here I was, in the middle of nowhere. The perfect place to hide, packaged without guilt and providing a bit of entertainment. I couldn't define my feelings too clearly. If she meant to move on, it would just hurt us both. I really wasn't good enough for her and her daughter. I could think of a dozen situations that would be better. I spent the ride steeling myself against the strong possibility that I wasn't her long-term dream. Her future and her daughter's demanded more. I wasn't feeling very good by the time I got to Hamond's. 

"Afternoon, Tom," I said, putting the securely-packaged panel on top of the shipping counter. "I need this to go out today." Tom lifted the cardboard-wrapped panel and put it on the scale. He typed a few things into the computer. 

"Comes to $47.50, Mark," Tom said as he started sticking big red 'fragile' stickers on it. I pulled out my credit card and handed it over. He took it and slowed. "It's not my place, but I've been chomping at the bit. Was that really Samantha Donaldson you were with a few days ago?"

"Who?" I said, startled, "I mean no. I was with Amber. Who is Samantha Donaldson?" I realized I never asked Amber her last name. 

"I tell you, she sure looked like her," Tom continued as he ran my card through the mag stripe reader. "Amber's hair was darker, but she could be Samantha's sister." 

"What are you talking about?" I chuckled, trying to hide my interest.

"I watch that 'Missing' show," Tom said as he handed me the receipt to sign. "I could have sworn that was Samantha with you," he repeated. 

"She wouldn't be missing if she was with me," I joked, hoping he would continue. 

"She would if she was hiding," Tom said, "that girl has the cartel and the feds after her." My ears perked, I hid it by signing the receipt as if it didn't phase me. "They weren't sure if she was running or wearing cement overshoes. She was some drug lord's girlfriend." His interest in Amber's last visit made sense now. Tom was always a conspiracy theorist and to have one underfoot must have made his day. 

"A drug lord?" I said, handing the receipt back. 

"Yep," Tom continued, "Pablo...Pablo...Castillo. That's it Castillo." I wasn't sure if it was my Amber, but it sure fit. "The feds want her for questioning and the cartel wants her dead." If the cartel wanted her dead, why would she leave her daughter with her mother. They would surely use the child against her. Maybe it wasn't Amber. Drug lords, I knew, didn't leave many stones unturned. Sadly, I had known some. 

"Whew," I said with exaggeration, "I would hate to be her rebound boyfriend." Tom nodded with me as if women were throwing themselves at us, and we could pick and choose. It was a male bonding ritual. 

"Especially that one," Tom went on, "she got knocked up. Bet those drug lords don't look highly on someone who does the mother of their children." It took everything I had to not look surprised. Amber made sense again. Pablo wouldn't use his own child as a bargaining chip. "She's probably dead anyway. It's not like someone could hide from the cartel." I wanted more information, but I didn't want Tom to know I was asking. I needed to keep him talking. 

"I have my own ex," I joked, "I've thought of devious ends for her myself." 

"Don't you know it," Tom agreed, holding out his fist. I knocked my knuckles against his. More bonding for the destined-to-die-alone males. Though Amber was shifting that in my mind. Drug lords I knew. Not sure about the Feds, but they had to follow rules. "Can you imagine the kid, she has to grow up knowing daddy killed mommy. She'll be really messed up." 

"She?" I said, trying to sound like I didn't care. 

"That's what they said, Elizabeth, I think her name was," Tom added. "Poor girl will probably spend half her life in therapy and the other half in rehab." 

"That's messed up," I agreed. Samantha. Amber was her hiding name. There was no way this could be a coincidence anymore. Amber did say she never lied to me. If her name was really Samantha, then there was one lie. I wondered if there were others. I remembered our shower, her joy in the workshop, our morning coffee. I didn't care if the whole thing was a lie. I'll live in ignorance and take what I can get. 

"Some kids are just born wrong," Tom said. Wisdom from the childless. 

"I've got to get some groceries," I said, trying to end the conversation, "think that will go out this afternoon?" I asked, pointing at my fragile package. 

"Should," Tom replied, forgetting our discussion, "UPS will be here at three."

"Thanks Tom," I said. He nodded. I headed to the grocery aisles. I smiled to myself as I moved out of Tom's vision. Drug lords I knew. I had no idea how Amber found me, but fate must have had something to do with it. I would have to verify a few things, make sure I wasn't over guessing, but at least I was knowledgeable about her problems. I wasn't swimming in the dark. 

For a place that prided itself on lack of selection, Hamond's had a huge selection of condoms. I hadn't purchased any since college. The selection had increased dramatically since then. I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out which ones to buy. I settled on a box that seemed to expound the same theories I was shooting for.

I grabbed some wine and fresh veggies. Amber seemed to enjoy her salad this afternoon so I decided that maybe a move toward more vegetables would please her. If not, well they rotted quickly and I could throw them out with a good excuse. A brick of sharp cheddar caught my eye so I grabbed it and went looking for crackers. I had to pass the frozen pizza display on the way, so I added frozen crap next to my healthy veggies. I ended up with about five times the amount of food I intended to buy. There was nothing I wanted to put back so I bought it all. It was hard buying for someone else when you didn't fully know what they liked yet. You ended up grabbing a bit of everything. 

On the drive home, I called Frank. He was one of the few I could call who would understand. I had lost touch with everyone else. I still saw Frank once a year. We were each other's therapy. 

"Hey, Frank," I said when he answered. 

"Mark, long time. It's good to hear your voice," Frank said. He sounded sincere.

"I've got a problem and need your help," I said. We had never tried to ease each other into anything. We were always straightforward and came right out with it. 

"Shoot."

"I think I have fallen for a capstone's ex." I laid it out for him. "She's being hunted by both sides. I want her out and I don't care if the asshole takes a perma nap." It was so easy to fall back into 

the language. My anger and determination returned like it was yesterday. 

"Damn, you don't drop out very well," Frank returned, "who's the shit." I wasn't in it alone. The feeling of camaraderie returned ten-fold. It was no longer driven by necessity, but by friendship and a bond that only a history of nastiness could have developed. 

"A Pablo Castillo," I informed him, "do you still know anyone at the DEA?" 

"Ed Larkin is still there," Frank answered, "is this going to be public?"

"Nope," I answered, "think Ed can keep it quiet?"

"For us he would, but I don't want to hang him out there," Frank said. 

"I want Pablo's phone number," I said, "the normal info would help and anything they have on Samantha Donaldson." 

"You don't ask much," Frank laughed. 

"I love her, Frank," I said. I should have told Amber, but there was too much fear there. Strange, guilt I knew, fear was something new. I wasn't good enough for her and her daughter. 

"Good enough for me," Frank said, "I'll see what we can get. I'm going to call Gabby as well. He's been a little strung out, and I think a return to the game will settle him down again." 

"I love you too, Frank," I said with a smile he couldn't see. 

"If you had tits, I would have had you a long time ago," Frank laughed. "I'll email what I find. Call me when you need support."

"Thanks," I replied, "I mean it."

"Any time," Frank said. He meant it. He also knew it would be returned in spades if he asked. I ended the call, confident that things were moving in the correct direction. Drug lord. My whole life had prepared me for this problem. There must be someone up there laughing at how they put his all together. Fate had a humorous side. 

The drive home was as difficult as the drive to Hamond's. My life had changed. I was better solo before I met Amber and now bad thoughts invaded when I was alone. I convinced myself that she meant more to me than I did to her. I would help her either way, but I didn't want to invest more of my heart if I was merely an oasis. How that word changed from when I first heard it. It was so all-encompassing at first, and now it was more transient. I needed to concentrate on Pablo. I needed to generate a clean separation between him and Amber. Something that would allow her to continue without him. I would most likely lose her in the process, but Lizzy needed her mother and Amber needed Lizzy. Maybe it would earn me a bit a redemption. I could use some of that. 

My phone vibrated as I started to pull into my drive. I pulled off, out of sight of the house. An email from Frank contained a picture of Pablo and Samantha. Amber was Samantha or her twin. I suspected the first. I had a brief description on what Pablo was suspected of. He was another king of scumbags. Living the high life in Phoenix, running a west coast distribution network. I had wasted my time ending a few of these self-proclaimed lords south of the border when I was younger. It did no good, but it did a wonderful job of making me hate myself. There was always someone who would pick up the mantle and the drugs would flow again. I couldn't stop the drugs. I could try to set Amber free. I had a mission again. 

Frank wrote that the info was preliminary and more would follow. I replied with a quick thanks and drove to the house. Amber greeted me at the door, her smile lighting up everything I could see. How I wished she could be my future. I steeled my heart, promising I wouldn't let her get in any deeper. I would enjoy what we had and not demand any more. A killer would make a horrible father. 

"What's wrong?" Amber said, her smile fading away. 

"Nothing," I lied, forcing a smile to my face and trying to forget my thoughts. "Long ride with the sun in my eyes." Her smile returned, but I could tell she didn't trust mine. She kissed me and my heart rebelled against me and tore open like paper. I was shaking when I took her in my arms and returned the kiss, holding her tighter than I should. I had lost all my strength. My life had changed and when she left it, I would be lost again.

"Something's wrong," Amber said, pushing away from me. I looked at her, or the facade that was her. A woman on the run who needed a place to hide. I couldn't go any deeper. It would be suicidal. I could help her and then let her go. My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to put up walls. I closed my eyes and my mouth moved without thinking. 

"I know, Samantha," I said softly. My whole body wanted to die. Blood was rushing with every heartbeat. My arms and legs tried to send the blood back in revolt. Everything felt wrong, my extremities didn't feel like mine. 

"Oh, God," Amber said. I opened my eyes to see her backing away from me, her hand over her mouth. I tried to speak, but my mouth couldn't form words. Her eyes watered. "I...I'll get my things," she said, as she turned and ran into the house. I reached out, knowing I had fucked up telling her. She moved too quickly. I couldn't have handled it more poorly. 

I found her packing in the bedroom. She was crying so hard I didn't know how she was moving at all. I was such a shit. I entered the room and watched for a moment, almost said something then gave up. I sat on the floor by the door. It took her a moment to see me there. 

"I... I'm sorry," Amber stammered, her voice broken and tears flowing freely. My heart was trying to crawl out of my body. I needed my mouth to move and it was being stubborn. She continued packing her backpack. My mouth moved when I realized she meant to leave.

"Don't leave me," I said. It was meant to be a intelligent declaration of why it would be unwise for her to leave. A description of why staying was in her best interests. Instead, my mouth sounded like it was begging. I was. She stopped packing and turned. I hated the tears on her cheeks. I wanted to wipe them away and glue her tear ducts closed.

"But..." Amber stammered. She dropped her pack on the bed and looked at me. "You... don't want me to leave?" She sounded surprised. Why wouldn't she? I was just some dumb fool who had fallen in love with broken glass. I took a deep breath. 

"I'll take care of Pablo," I said, looking toward the floor, "you can get Lizzy back and start a new life." I took another deep breath. My heart was tearing me apart. "Stay until it's done." Maybe I could sneak a few more days with her. It would be worth it. 

"NO!" she screamed, "he will kill you!"

I looked up, this time with tears in my eyes. Her image of me was about to change. I hated it. I wanted her to only know the artist. "No," I said softly, "killing is what I do...or used to do." I looked up into an expression I never wished to see. One that jumped out of a fire right into a frying pan. "I will remove him, if I have to, and you will be free of him." 

"What?" Amber said, as she sat on the bed. Her shoulders lost all their bones.

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 07



Author's note: Chapter 7 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 07

"I'm not a good person," I admitted, "I have...there are things I have done that I can't undo. Things I am not proud of. I hide here," my hand gesturing around the house, "more in shame than anything else." Amber was staring at me in shock. It was the beginning of fear. Everyone should fear me. "Bottom line: I know how to handle the likes of Pablo Castillo. For you, I'll bury him." I could tell I had lost her. It was probably for the best to do it now. I didn't deserve her anyway. 

"Who are you?" Amber asked. 

"Today, an artist," I tried to laugh, but it came out all slanted and wrong, "yesterday, a metal salesman, a lifetime ago..." I took another breath, "I was in a military unit that specialized in out-of-country drug interdiction." I could see she was having trouble putting it together, "I killed people who the government couldn't get too legally." It was the first time I had said it out loud. It was strangely refreshing. It was completely illegal to say it. I had signed papers that guaranteed my silence under the penalty of many years behind bars. Amber stared at me for a moment before speaking. 

"Amber is my middle name," she said slowly, like she was getting used to speaking. "I never lied to you. I just didn't tell you everything." I smiled at that. For some reason, I found it important. 

"Will you stay?" I pleaded again. 

"I want to," Amber replied. I nodded, trying not to move too quickly.

"Should I call you Samantha?" I asked. Her smile returned. It looked a bit funny mixed with the tears. 

"I like Amber," she replied, "it allows me to forget things Samantha did." That I could understand. Skeletons that needed to stay in the closet. I stood up and held out my hand. Amber took it and rose. 

"I left some bags in the car, would you like to help, Amber?" I asked, my smile belying the conversation we just had. 

"I would love to, Mark," Amber replied. Her other hand quickly wiped the tears off her cheeks. I led her out to the car. 

I opened the back door and handed Amber one of the bags. She took it as I went back in for the other two. I really didn't need any help, but thought it was a good idea that we did something menial together to try to reset. Amber sensed it herself. 

"Are we okay?" Amber asked. 

"I hope so," I said, "I really couldn't handle you despising me." My mouth said it before my brain could rephrase it. It should have been more subtle and never included the word despise. Amber stopped and looked at me. I watched her eyes go from surprise to confusion to pity to passion in the blink of an eye. She dropped her bag on the ground and pinned me against the car with my arms tied up with bags. Her lips didn't despise me at all. Neither did her tongue. It took me a few seconds before I dropped my bags and healed with her. 

I was trying not to love her. She was making it so hard. I wasn't right for a mother and child. I was a much better hermit. I was losing myself in her again. Her lips matched so perfectly with mine, sending sensations through me that didn't belong. I knew it couldn't last so I tried to end it before I said something stupid. 

"We should get these inside," I said, trying to make it sound unforced. Amber's hand ran along the side of my face, her eyes drilling into my heart. 

"Let it go," she said, "I don't care about your past." Her eyes told me she wasn't lying. 

"I... I'm not good for you," I said, meaning the future. Her smile nearly assassinated the sun. 

"I'm not good for you," she used my own words against me. It was unforgivable. I forgave her instantly. My mouth took over. Always the trailblazer. 

"I'm falling in love," my mouth warned. Her lips stole my breath away. She turned my warning into an admission. She stopped kissing me suddenly and took a step away. Her smile still stealing the sun's thunder.

"I stopped falling last night," Amber stated as she picked up her bag, "let me know when you catch up." She turned and hurried inside, her cute butt leaving a wonderful image. I stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, wondering when I lost control of the situation. She just told me she loved me without saying it directly. I tried to pull the corners of my mouth down, but they weren't cooperating. I couldn't think straight. I shook my head to try to return to the present. I picked up the two bags and headed inside. 

"Ribbed for my pleasure," Amber said, reading the box of condoms. I must have blushed fifty shades of red. "Did you get these for me?" she asked with a hint of southern belle. I wanted to take her right there on the kitchen counter. 

"Figured you might like to know I was thinking about you," I answered, trying to get my blood back to my heart and out of my face. 

"And wine," Amber's face went to humor, "planning on getting me drunk and then pleasuring me with your ribbing?" 

"That was the plan," I said as I set the other two bags on the counter. It actually was. I figured wine then love. I seemed plausible when I was at the store, now a little presumptuous.

"And you thought you would seal the deal with a frozen pizza?" Amber said, pulling out the pepperoni pizza. 

"No, " I joked, "I figured the cheese and crackers would break you down and the fresh veggies would make me look sincere. It's a devious plan, and I spent a lot of time developing it." Amber smiled, loving the banter as much as I did. Her face went serious.

"Long term," she said, "how do you see us?" Her question was brutal. I saw the necessity in it. She had a daughter and children came first. I knew now that my answer didn't have any ramifications on me donning a ribbed condom. We would be making love tonight. I figured it was truth time. Anything else would be insulating. 

"Lizzy will need strong role models," I answered as best as I could, "I'll let you go for her sake." There, I gave Amber the out she needed. I couldn't figure out her expression. I expected relief and got something unrecognizable. 

"You've thought of Lizzy?" she asked.

"You're a mother," I responded, "of course." Her expression continued to befuddle me. "I'm not exactly father material."

"You don't like children?" 

"No," I floundered, "I mean, sure I like kids. It's just that they need guidance." Her expression had me completely confused, "I would be the worst father figure in the world." The words shocked me, my mouth's rambling was hurting me again. "Not that I would be the father, it's just that I thought you would want someone... I don't know...someone who knew what he was doing." Fuck I was screwing it all up. "Not that you need a man." I was making it worse. "I don't want to be the cause of Lizzy needing therapy." Fuck me. Amber started laughing. I was lost.

"So you think a Pablo would do a better job?" Amber asked. Her smile was eating into me. I felt like a fool. If I didn't love her, I would have resented it. 

"No, if you put it that way," I responded, "I just figured you would want something more...suburban."

"What do you want?" Amber asked, her smile not retreating. 

"You and Lizzy right here," I said. I answered quickly and with certainty. It was only a dream and not one that seemed feasible. I didn't even know where the schools were. 

"So, you'll let me go for Lizzy's sake." Amber continued. I thought I had made that clear. 

"Yes."

"And what makes you think you wouldn't be a good parent?" Amber asked. I thought it was obvious. 

"I've done things no child should know about," I stated. What's been done can't be undone. 

"Who hasn't?" Amber returned. 

"I'm confused," I said, and I was, "I thought you were hiding here. I am just your oasis." Amber looked at me in a very intense way. 

"Is that what you think?" she asked. I was completely out of my league. I didn't understand women at all and mothers were even farther out there. I folded into myself, trying to devise an answer that made sense. I gave up and told her what I knew. 

"I love you," I replied, "I'm just not worthy of you." That was as close as I could get. There was no way to explain the obvious to someone who didn't understand. Amber was silent as she looked at me. I saw her eyes travel between my eyes. She held up her hand, palm facing at me between our faces. Her head dropped down, her eyes examining the floor. She was processing the knowledge. I was confident she would understand.

"Can we start again?" Amber asked. I looked at her, my confusion growing again.

"Sure," I replied. 

"My name is Samantha Amber Donaldson," she stated slowly, "I am in love with Mark Winslow and I don't give a shit about his past." It took a moment for it to register. "Lizzy would be better off for knowing him." She might as well have hit me over the head with a sledge hammer. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. "Does that scare you?" Amber added.

"Your faith scares me," I admitted. I didn't want to screw up a kid. 

"Pablo doesn't scare you?" Amber asked. 

"No," I answered with confidence. Pablo was just another megalomaniac who didn't know when his time was up.

"Does any of my past scare you?" 

"No," I replied, adding a smile. Strangely, I understood her better because of it. There was a weird tie between her past and mine. "I don't give a shit about it either." Amber held out her hand over the counter. I took it in mine. 

"I find you most worthy," Amber said with a sweetness that slipped easily past my doubts. She obviously had a few screws loose. Who else would want me as is? I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. 

"You're insane," I said, with a large smile, "I guess that meshes well with me."

"A couple of crazies," Amber agreed. 

"Do lunatics like pizza?" I asked, trying to put end to my self-doubt. 

"Only if it's frozen crap," Amber responded with the smile I loved so much. I set the oven to preheat. 

The pizza tasted like cardboard with an almost flavorless meat overtone. It was one of the better meals I had ever eaten. Amber was there and I knew she meant to stay. The joy in my mind overrode my taste buds. The future looked insanely bright as we sat on the couch and happily ate the rounded sheet of blah. 

"Pablo is Lizzy's father," Amber said out of the blue. I could hear how difficult it was for her to tell me that. I also knew she wanted me to know everything. Love was a risk and we needed everything out on the table.

"I know," I said, pulling out my phone. I brought up the email that Frank sent me and handed it to her. I figured it would save time and embarrassment if she knew what I knew. She took my phone and read for a few seconds.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, flicking her finger across the screen to see the next page.

"Friends," I answered, "they are going to help us." The word 'us' sounded so right. I saw the corners of Amber's lip rise. She heard it too."That's just the preliminary information. There will be more latter."

"I'm not innocent in this," Amber said,"I enjoyed the money and let it go on." 

"What changed?" I asked.

"The news," Amber said, handing me my phone, "I was watching it about a four months ago and they did a story on two high school kids who overdosed and died. I kept imagining it was Lizzy." Amber chuckled to herself. "Pablo went postal when I told him I wanted him to get out of drugs. Hell, we already had more money than we could spend in a lifetime. He wasn't in the career changing mood."

"So you ran?" I added. Amber shook her head.

"I brought the subject up a few more times. He tired of it and hit me," Amber didn't seem like it was the physical pain that bothered her. It bothered me. "I was furious and did something really stupid. Then I ran." 

"You? Angry?" I said with an incredulous expression. She saw right through my facetious facade. She smacked my shoulder playfully. I pulled her legs into my lap and began removing her shoes. She smiled and moved her back toward the arm of the couch to get more comfortable. I added her socks to the shoes on the floor and began massaging her feet. 

"A girl can get used to that." Amber cooed.

"Can't let you get angry," I quipped. I loved it when I could make her laugh. It was so soft, but could blanket the world. "Are you going to tell me what was really stupid?" 

"I hijacked a shipment," she said, her eyes closing as my fingers did their work. She sighed, "He never gave me any credit for having a mind. He discussed things in the house that he assumed I wouldn't understand, or maybe he thought I was uninterested. Whatever," Amber waved her hand as if it shoved that part of her life away, "I knew when a transfer was to take place, a mule- to-mule transfer." I nodded as her eyes sought my understanding, "I showed up early and pretended to be the mule. Just like that, I had a suitcase with a million dollars worth of heroin." Amber chuckled again, "Bet he doesn't think I'm so dense anymore."

I let her words sit for a while. I needed to think. I lifted her cute little foot to my lips and gave it a kiss. She curled her toes and smiled at me. Her other foot found my crotch and started searching. I lowered her foot and caught the other one and pulled it away from between my legs. She gave me a pouty expression. 

"Thinking," I said, continuing with the massage, "I can't do that if you get me all excited." She smiled knowingly and let me go on with her feet. Pablo, if he was like the rest of them, wouldn't take betrayal well. Anything that screwed with the business was a killing offense. Then again, he would want his drugs back. I wasn't really in the business of giving drug dealers their drugs back. "Where is the suitcase now?"

"YMCA locker," Amber replied, "I almost threw it in the river, but decided at the last moment that it would be better if I didn't burn all my bridges." She saw it as a bargaining chip as well. "I don't want to give it back to him, but I don't want to die either." 

"I doubt Pablo plans on letting you live," I said, my mouth moving ahead of my brain again. I felt her legs stiffen. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so blunt. It's not just the drugs. It was the fact that you knew enough to short circuit the delivery. That means you know more than he thought you did. Right now he is panicking, thinking the feds will find you first." 

"He won't let Lizzy and me go then?" Amber asked. I could tell she wanted the truth. I gave hope instead. 

"Not without some incentive," I said, with a devious smiled. I just had to convince him it was in his best interest. I continued to rub her feet as my brain worked. I had set up a few situations to group the right people in the right place, but had never set up negotiations. By the time my team was called in, negotiations were over. I could just take out Pablo, but then an unknown underling would most likely take over with the same agenda and no blood ties to Lizzy. I didn't want to start a war. We would all end up dead or in jail. 

"Maybe I should just stay hidden," Amber said.

"Can't do that forever," I said, "Tom, at Hamond's, recognized you." 

"What? I've never seen him before in my life," Amber insisted.

"You made some TV show called 'Missing,' " I said, moving my hands from her feet to her ankles, "you're a celebrity now." I loved how soft her calves were. I loved that she let me fondle them. I loved how her eyes looked when I did. 

"Now I can't think," Amber said as a small shiver ran up her leg. I pulled my hands back to her feet. "Did they mention Lizzy?" I nodded and Amber frowned. "So now everyone knows whose child she is." I could see the sadness in her eyes. 

"Fame is fleeting," I offered, "in time, everyone forgets and moves on to the next hot story."

"I should have just left," Amber said, "I let my ego screw it up, and now Lizzy will suffer." She looked at me, "And now I'm endangering you." 

"I am endangering myself, " I said, with a smile I hoped she found reassuring, "we are a we now. I have intentions of keeping it that way." Amber struggled to sit up, pulling her legs back to the floor. She kissed me as she pushed me on my back. Thinking about anything but her was an impossibility now. Lying on the couch, our lips actively expressing our love. She tasted a hell of a lot better than the frozen pizza. 

"Let's see if those ribs work," Amber said with humor in her eyes. Sex with her had an element of fun. It was so different than what I was used to. So much trust that experimentation was simply playing. I helped her up and quickly followed. She ran to the kitchen counter, grabbing the condom box and laughed her way into the bedroom. I followed, my desire was way ahead of me. 

I didn't see Amber when I first entered the room. She was hiding behind the door. She jumped me, laughing at the surprise. She had the heart of a child, and I fed on it. I let her legs wrap around my hips, her lips locking on mine as I walked as best I could, carrying her to our bed. She was mine now. It was insane to think it would work, but maybe two crazies could make one perfect relationship. I was intent on finding out. I half dropped, half placed her on the bed, laughing as she bounced. She was busy trying to tear the cellophane off the box of condoms. 

"My God, you look good," I said slowly as I lifted my shirt off. She stopped fiddling with the box and looked up at me. Her eyes were alive and so intent on mine. 

"I'm not even naked yet," Amber joked, her smile absorbing my compliment and giving back the humor I enjoyed so much. 

"In my mind, you haven't worn a stitch of clothing all day," I bantered back, as I dropped my pants. My cock was straining at the thought of what was about to happen. It was happier than I was. Amber looked between my legs and almost growled as she bit into the plastic wrapper and finally tore part of the cellophane. 

"I love that you're so ready," Amber cooed as she hastily ripped open the box. Individually wrapped condoms spilled everywhere as the box opened wider than she had expected. Her laughter bounced off the walls as I grabbed her shorts and tried to scoot them down her legs. She lifted her hips and, at the same time, started struggling to pull her t-shirt up. Somehow, I relieved her from her shorts; her panties left with less argument. I loved how her hips squirmed to allow me to easily remove her panties. I wasn't the only one excited. Her sex was glistening. Her smile told me she knew where my eyes had gone. 

Amber sat up and turned around. "Bra," she ordered. I began to undo the clasp in the back as she tore open one of the condom packets with her teeth. She pulled out the condom and threw the wrapper on the nightstand. I pushed the bra straps over her shoulders and climbed on the bed. She was intently examining the condom, I assumed checking the ribbing. 

"Does it meet with your approval?" I said playfully. 

"We'll see." She laughed. She pushed me on my back. Without ceremony, she grabbed my erection and began to unroll the condom down my shaft. She studied the condom as it unfurled, running her finger down the ribs. I think ribbed condoms were as new to her as they were to me. I reached out and played with her breast as she played with me. 

Amber tore her attention from my cock and straddled me, leaning down so our lips could dance together again. She rose slightly, her hand wrapping around my member, as she guided me into her with small starts and stops. I could tell she was enamored with testing the sensation the condom offered. Finally, she lowered herself fully, and I gasped from the warmth of it. She leaned down again. 

"It's wonderful, isn't it?" Amber whispered. 

"Yes," I agreed. She shifted her hips back and forth. I could feel myself shifting inside her as she began to grind into me. "We fit well together," I added. Her smile matched mine. She rose her hips and slowly lowered herself back down. I could feel little tremors run through her as she repeated the process. I was in heaven as she engulfed me once again. I loved the look on her face as she tried to decide if the ribbing was more or less pleasurable. For a moment, I was no more than a toy. Suddenly she stopped and brought her eyes directly in front of mine. 




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 07



"Your love is much better than the ribbing," she said, laughing. I was slightly disappointed with the advertising. Her hips began to move in earnest. I used mine to help her along. She seemed to like to grind her pelvis into me on the down stroke. The way she moved was incredibly sensuous, pulling pleasure from me in a way that increased my own desire. I started moving counter, increasing the friction, and, in turn, my joy. "Now that's lovely," Amber sighed. 

I could tell Amber was getting close. Her legs jerked out of sync and her expression went far away. I was close myself. Just the thought of her joy was enough to hasten mine. Her lips found mine forcibly and she began to shake as her pelvis tried to merge with mine. Her lips parted and she moaned directly into my mouth. It was all I could take. I sent her moan back to her as I filled the condom. When it was done and the world returned, she collapsed on top of me, laughing. 

"We are so good that this," Amber whispered, her sweat mixing with mine. I pushed her hair out of my eyes and behind her ear. I loved feeling her on top of me, her breasts like hot pillows pushing into me. 

"It has never been this much fun before," I admitted, "it's so different." She pulled herself up a bit, her breasts still hanging down sweetly on my chest. I laughed.

"What?" she smiled.

"I think you're ribbed for my pleasure," I joked, caressing her breasts. It was so easy to make her laugh. In that moment, I realized how unhappy I had been for so long. My winter was over.

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 08



Author's note: Chapter 8 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 08

"You just want to put a little bit where the pieces join," I said, watching Amber confidently drop a small bead of solder on the end of one of her petals, where it touched the circular center. "The flux sucks the solder into the joint and makes it stick." Amber smiled and moved on to the next joint. She had spent a good ten minutes practicing on some scraps after our morning coffee. Now she was all confidence. I watched as she moved from joint to joint, carefully locking each one with solder.

"Now turn it over and do the same thing on the other side," I instructed.

"Shouldn't I let it dry first?" she asked.

"It already is." I smiled. She hesitantly took out the pins that were holding the structure in place and turned it over. She was amazed at the structure's sturdiness. I loved her amazement. It was breathing new life into my workshop. She was about to start dropping more solder. "Flux first," I reminded her. She smiled and went for the small paintbrush and started applying the flux. I put my elbow on the table and set my chin in my hand. I watched as she worked, transfixed by the beauty of it all. My glass, my love and the Grateful Dead playing quietly over the speakers.

"How's that?" Amber asked. I could see the pride in her eyes. All the petals were secure.

"Perfect," I complimented, "now you have to tin the rest of the foil."

"How do I do that?" she asked as she turned the structure around in her hand. Her eyes were so excited. It was probably the first piece of art she had done since she left high school.

"Flux around one of your pieces," I said as I drew my finger around one of the petals, "then build up a small bead of solder and use the flat of the iron to pull it along." I watched as she carefully painted the foil with flux. In time she would figure out that you don't have to be so neat. I didn't want to correct her and damage her efforts. I let it be and just watched.

Three more times I kept my mouth shut as she learned. Eventually, she got into the flow, figuring out the timing on her own. There was nothing she could mess up that couldn't be fixed anyway. My silence paid off when she finished the first side. The look on her face was priceless. It was almost as pleasurable as when we had finished in bed. She flipped it over, without my prompting, and began to flux the other side. Finishing art is personal, so I decided to give her some space.

"I'll start lunch," I said before I moved off. She looked up at me, thinking she was shirking her duty. I never had a duty list, but I wasn't sure if she thought she needed to contribute more. She looked back at the glass flower.

"Picnic again?" she asked, her smile growing.

"Absolutely," I answered, mirroring her smile. I left her there hard at work. I know how if feels to finish your own creation. The sense of completion warms your whole day and carries you through the next. I also knew it had to be hers. She needed it. An all new something not sullied by the past.

We had some lettuce left over from yesterday and a couple of tomatoes. I had some bacon in the freezer, wrapped accordion style in wax paper. Bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches sounded good to me. I pulled a few slices of bacon out to thaw as my phone vibrated. Another email from Frank. It was everything the DEA had on Pablo. I decided to read it later on the office computer. I sent back my thanks. I took a deep breath. I still hadn't figured out how to handle Pablo. A bullet always came to mind first, but adding more guilt to the mountain I already carried didn't sound appealing. Not to mention, that it may put more risk on Lizzy.

I filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove to boil. I wondered if Pablo would listen to reason. Maybe he wanted a clean break as well. My experience told me that he probably took the theft of his shipment personally. I surely didn't want him to get the drugs back. I might as well go into the business myself if I did that. The best I could start with was to put myself between Pablo and Amber. I pulled out a broiling pan for the bacon.

Some men fought fear with capitulation. Others took it as a challenge and charged forward. I suspected Pablo was the latter. I needed to make sure I didn't insult him as I laid out the change in his situation. If anything, I was a change to his status quo. One I hoped he would underestimate at first. I pulled out a teapot and set it next to the stove. I pulled five teabags out of the cupboard and placed them in the pot with the strings hanging over the edge. The main thing was to safeguard Amber. I could easily expedite Pablo's plans if I wasn't careful.

I put the quickly-defrosting bacon slices on a broiling pan and put them in the oven. I caught the tea kettle before it began to sing and filled the pot that held the tea bags. I grabbed the plastic jug from the counter and filled it with ice to the top. I watched the water steep as I bounced the tea bags up in down by their strings. My threats would have to be carefully enumerated. I would have to make a show of it without damaging his pride. Turn it into a business decision for him. I smiled, thinking of putting a dead horse in his bed. The Godfather could have come up with an offer Pablo wouldn't refuse.

I could hear the bacon sizzling and popped the oven door to look. Still too rare. I liked my bacon just this side of dried-out crispy. I pulled the tea bags out of the water and drained them over the pot. I poured the potent tea into the jug of ice and capped it. I checked on the bacon, flipped the slices and let them cook some more. Bacon texture is important. You don't want to fight with rubber when you bite, nor do you want it to crumble to nothing at the slightest touch. The smell was good either way.

"It's finished," Amber announced, holding her creation before her. She was obviously pleased with herself. "Mmmm, bacon," she added when the smell hit her. I took the flower from her and pretended to examine it for flaws. I made sure I didn't find any.

"Perfect," I complimented. That earned me a kiss. "You can solder a loop on it after lunch," I said, indicating where the hanger should be placed. She lovingly pushed me out of the way and opened the oven. The bacon seemed done. Amber grabbed the oven mitts and pulled it out.

"BLT's?" she asked. I nodded and watched her assemble two sandwiches. She still felt the need to do things for me. Maybe she just wanted to. Either way I was pleased as long as she knew I preferred her as a lover and not a maid. She packed the meal in the basket that had seen more use in the last three days, than it had in the many years I had owned it. We headed out to the dock.

"I like doing stained glass," Amber said, as she purposely bumped my shoulder with hers. "Lizzy will like her flower...if I ever have a chance to give it to her."

"We'll get it to her," I insisted. There was a bit more determination in my voice than there should have been. Amber bumped me again. She was being playful.

"I've been thinking," she said, "I don't like the idea of you dealing with Pablo. Maybe, if I just give him his stuff back, no one will get hurt." I shook my head.

"Unless he is an aberration, there is no way he would be happy with only the return," I stopped walking, "I can't have him killing you." Amber stopped as well.

"I can't have him killing you," she admitted, "you had nothing to do with my idiocy. If something were to happen to you...I don't know what I would do." The palm of her free hand found my cheek. I could see how the thought pained her. My heart thought it was wonderful that she thought me worthy of her concern. The rest of me felt badly for thinking her pain was wonderful. My hands full of chairs, I bent down and kissed her for the thought.

"Let's try to work it out so no one dies." I smiled. "My friend sent me more information. I think it is everything the DEA has on you and Pablo." I started walking again. Amber followed. "We are one step ahead. Pablo doesn't know me, and I now know him."

"I loved him once," Amber said softly, "I ignored the laws and enjoyed the money." She looked up at me with cinched eyes, "I'm not a good person. You have to know who you're risking your life for." I stopped walking again. Her words brought back memories that I preferred were forgotten. She needed me to understand her. Understanding needed to go both ways.

"I can hit a moving target at 400 meters," I said slowly, my eyes looking away, "20 years ago I was ordered to do just that. I hit the driver of an SUV. The target, I assume, died instantly. His wife and three small children died in the accident that followed." I looked up, ready for her to run, "I've killed children whose only mistake was being born." My eyes swelled as that fucked up memory came back to me. The screams that followed the fire returned as if it happened yesterday. I gritted my teeth, trying to force the thoughts back into hiding.

"Oh, God," Amber breathed. She didn't run. She put down the basket and embraced me. Her arms tucked under mine and she pulled me close. I dropped the chairs and melted into her. There is something miraculous about sharing pain. The agony becomes softer, less potent. I closed my eyes and let the memories flood back. I had done something horrendous and it was time I remembered. I let it flow through me and into Amber. It came back tainted with compassion. It was no less real, but colors other than black flowed around it. The wound stopped bleeding, though it was still sore as hell.

"You have to know who you're staying with," I whispered. She pulled me in tighter.

"The past is past," Amber said, "we can't undo what we've done. I'll never ask about your past, but I will always listen when you need to tell me." The side of her face was against my chest. It was comfortable there. Still, I disturbed it by leaning, making our mouths meet. A soft, compassionate kiss; one moral disaster to another. It took us a moment to collect our feelings and find our way to the the dock. The river, uncaring as always, flowed gently.

We ate in silence for a while. Our hands would intertwine and we exchanged small smiles as we let nature humble us. I thought of what I had divulged to Amber. I wondered if it was too much. Truth had a way of ruining things. I told her the worst, but kept other things to myself. I looked over at those lips I loved so much and knew she would never know everything. The worst would have to be enough for her to decide on our future. I wasn't going to make her climb my mountain of sin. She might tire and leave me in a downhill run.

"Can we wait a week?" Amber asked, breaking the silence.

"For what?" I questioned, not quite sure what she meant.

"I want to be happy," Amber clarified, "at least for a short time before we do anything drastic." Her hand found mine, her fingers combing into mine. "I want to forget everything before you bought me dinner. Just you and me living like a normal couple." I squeezed her hand and smiled. It was the best idea I had heard in long time. The idea of ignoring our pasts and concentrating on each other was sublime.

"That sounds wonderful," I agreed, turning in my chair to better face her. Humor flooded back into her eyes.

"What should we do this afternoon?" Amber asked, her eyebrows bounced in a seductive way.

The week that followed was, by far, the best week of my life. We played, we laughed, we enjoyed each other thoroughly. I took Amber back to town and spent some time shopping. Like a couple, I took her out to dinner. We caught a lousy movie at the theater and laughed about it all the way home.

The ease with which we became comfortable with each other was astonishing. Tasks were partitioned without verbal communication. We knew what the other was thinking and we rarely collided. I pulled a steak out of the fridge and Amber would be there with a pan. She would pull the sheets off the bed, and I would have an arm full of clean ones. It became second nature that we were an extension of each other.

As promised, I fixed Amber's hair. I carefully died her roots. It was a new experience for me, and she laughed a lot. She enjoyed me taking care of her. I trimmed off the purple ends of her hair. I replaced them with one finger's width of purple that ran down the right side. I don't know if it was because I did it, but I found it arousing. A little devil in my sweet girl. Amber recognized my desire and teased me with the strands. One morning, I awoke to find her sitting naked beside me, her purple hair curled in seductive ripples and lust in her eyes. She knew me too well.

"I need to see Lizzy," Amber said to me. We were lying in each other's arms, sated from making love with Santana playing in the background. We were getting better at it.

"It's time then," I said, anxious to free her from her past, but sad that our time would be no longer solely ours. She brought her hand to the side of my face, her eyes sad, but loving.

"I miss her terribly," she said, "I've been a horrible mother, selfishly loving you and ignoring her." I selfishly wanted it to continue.

"Your choices were limited," I said, trying to help her justify her necessary neglect. She smiled at me, followed by a soft kiss.

"You are my choice, selfish as it is," she continued. I loved being her choice. "I can't live without her though. I have to try to get her back." For a split second, I saw Pablo through the scope of a rifle in my mind. I shook it off. I wanted to avoid any more deaths.

"Tomorrow then," I whispered, "we'll begin." I still wasn't sure how to handle the situation. I was sinking my hopes into Pablo being somewhat reasonable. Not a great gamble.

"Thank you," Amber returned, her lips once again telling me how much I meant to her. I wanted to free her more than life itself. She was my summer and I never wanted to be cold again.

I woke before Amber the next morning. I pulled on a pair of shorts and t-shirt, smelling her all over me. It is hard to explain how pleasant the scent was. I was smiling at the walls as I started the coffee, my nose lost in ode de Amber. I went into my office and brought up the email from Frank. I had let it sit, greedily enjoying Amber for the week. Now, it was back to business. I read, learned and retrieved a cup of coffee when it was ready. I read some more.

Pablo had a fairly large file. Enough legit businesses to hide his ill-gotten gains. The guesstimates of his drug empire were not quite as large as I had hoped. The million dollars of smack would hurt if the numbers were real. It looked like it was about a fifth of his yearly volume. More of a drug prince. That meant he would have fewer men than expected, but would be more desperate to get the drugs back. I had aerials of his estate and lists of his businesses and associates. The DEA had been unable to make anything stick to Pablo, so they were very interested in obtaining the whereabouts of Samantha Donaldson. There were notes about her possible knowledge of his business affairs. It looked like she was involved since the DEA became aware of Pablo.

The file on Amber was not as thick, more concise. She was considered complicit, but not directly participating in Pablo's business. She had met him when he had sprained his back and visited the doctor Amber was working for. More information than I needed to know, but I found it reassuring that she hadn't lied to me about being a receptionist. It was just the assumed timing that she allowed to be stretched when I first met her. She had been with Pablo for close to eleven years. I could see it. A receptionist swept off her feet by a suave South American with unending cash. We all make mistakes. Mine were worse than hers anyway.

I went back to the beginning and began my memorization exercises. I was surprised how well it came back to me. I was trained to remember documents since the delicate nature of the missions didn't allow written information to be carried. It only took me six times through to commit it all to memory. Still no plan, but I had the information.

"Would you like a refill?" I turned to see Amber in my open robe, standing in the doorway, looking like Aphrodite.

"I'll join you on the porch," I said, rising. I loved her morning smile. It made for a wonderful start to the day. I moved toward her to get my morning kiss that I now took for granted. It was strange how quickly I got comfortable with her. How much I needed those small kisses that weren't special, but held a future so bright my mind needed sunglasses.

"What's the plan?" Amber asked. I could see she was nervous. We were embarking on something that would put our lives at risk. Her nervousness was to be expected. Mine was strangely mute. I was on a mission again. Fear wasn't allowed until after it was over. When it was all said and done, then the shaking hands and dismay would invade.

"We're going to Phoenix," I said calmly, "I am going to have a face-to-face with Pablo. If he is reasonable, we may be able to end this quickly."

"He's not reasonable," Amber said, shaking her head. Her eyes had widened at my piss poor plan. I smiled to set her at ease.

"He's a businessman," I continued, "I'll explain the alternatives, he will weigh the options and hopefully decide you aren't worth the risk."

"Mark, he will kill you," Amber stated. I could feel her fear now.

"No," I said, "first he will underestimate me. I will explain his options in terms he can understand and then he will make a decision. Until he makes that decision, I can't do anything more." I looked into her wide eyes, "No more cars full of children," I added, knowing it explained my methods.

"What if he doesn't want to talk?" she asked.

"He will," I replied, "it is the only thing I am sure of." Greed and power had a way of steering men like Pablo. He will smell his heroine and a chance to get back at Amber. He will meet with me. I just had to make sure it was on my terms.

"You can't die on me," Amber pleaded, reaching out to me. I took her hand in mine. I loved the concern, but there was no way I was backing out now. I was on a mission. Every mission had to be completed. This one was backed by love. Much more powerful than duty, honor and country.

"I love you," I said. It just came out of my mouth explaining why my life was easily risked and were I found the strength. I should say it more often. I had so many other chances. It may have been more appropriate during passion. Now, it brought tears. Early morning, coffee-on-the-porch tears.

"I love you too," she stammered before moving quickly into my lap. I smiled. She cried. I held her, wishing the morning would last forever. I squinted and saw the trees as streaky green glass against a most glorious cloudy blue backdrop. The world seemed wonderful with her in my arms. Her tears washed over me, cleaning away so much pain. Amber would be my redemption. I held her until the tears slowed. She surprised me by changing to a giggle.

"You smell like sex," Amber said.

"I smell like you," I clarified.

"Then I'm stinky," she said. I tried not to laugh. I spent a good part of the morning enjoying the scent. I'd take that stinky over fresh roses any day. "We need a shower."

"That sounds like fun," I said, remembering the first shower we took together. We forgot about Pablo for a short time as we played in the water. I concentrated on her filthy breasts. She found one part of me so dirty, it took excessive scrubbing to get it cleaned to her satisfaction. And mine.

We found ourselves on the road well before lunch. I stopped in town and picked up a prepaid phone. I doubted Pablo had the wherewithal to track me down via a cell number, but it always paid to be careful. I called Frank before we left. He was going to meet us in Phoenix. I received a text later that Gabby was en route as well. At least the camaraderie of my past had some benefits. I keyed in what the DEA thought was Pablo's phone number and put the phone on speaker so Amber wouldn't be in the dark. .




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 08



"Hola," the voice on the other end greeted. It had a crisp business-like snap to the word. Amber nodded to me. It was Pablo.

"Good morning, Mr. Castillo," I said in Spanish. Amber smiled. I was rusty and I'm sure my accent was worse from years of non-use. "I am representing Samantha Donaldson." I paused for a moment to let that sink in, "I would like to schedule a meeting with you at your convenience."

"Who are you?" Pablo asked. This time he spoke slower. I could tell he was holding back expletives in order to see where the call was going.

"You can call me Sam for now," I answered.

"How did you get this number, Sam?" Pablo asked, making 'Sam' sound like a swear word.

"An acquaintance acquired it for me," I replied. I felt my Spanish was coming back to me quickly. "This conversation would be more appropriate in person."

"Is the bitch with you?" Pablo asked. I raised my hand to Amber, stalling her retort. I would prefer that Pablo be kept in the dark on how close she was to me. I took a breath and bluffed.

"We can speak calmly, at your convenience," I stated firmly, "or we can meet at my convenience. I assure you, that would be less satisfactory for everyone concerned." Veiled threats rarely worked well. I waited, listening for his response. At first, I thought he had hung up and I would have to try a different way.

"Are you in Phoenix?" Pablo asked. I could almost hear his teeth grinding.

"I will be, in two days," I answered, my voice calm, proud of my Spanish.

"Call me when you are in town," Pablo said. The call went dead. I put the phone away and smiled at Amber.

"That went better than I expected," I admitted with relief in my voice.

"He sounded angry," Amber added.

"Yes, but he's willing to meet," I said, "I thought a meeting was going to be more problematic. This is a good sign." I reached over and caressed her knee. I could feel goosebumps. The call frightened her. "We'll get through this," I assured her.

"I'm afraid he will kill you," Amber admitted. I was pretty sure he would think about it. I was confident I could preempt any attempts.

"No," I said with my best Vito Corleone accent, "I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse." My Spanish was better than my Italian accent. It made Amber laugh, so it served its purpose. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 09



Author's note: Chapter 9 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 09

We drove until the sun went down. Amber was in charge of the radio, finding a new station as soon as we drove out of range from the last. We avoided talking about Pablo and spoke instead of Lizzy, future glass projects and the crappy radio stations available. We made good traveling companions. It didn't hurt that she felt it necessary to touch me whenever she made a salient point. For awhile we were quiet, looking at the scenery. Amber was playing with the hair on the back of my head. I could have driven all night with her fingers idly caressing the back of my neck. 

The hotel we stopped at had a pool and jacuzzi. Amber was excited so we went across the street and bought some cheap ill-fitting swimsuits from a discount store. Around ten, the few kids in the pool vacated and it was only us. We quickly found ourselves necking in the jacuzzi, our hands exploring under the bubbles. Simply having fun with each other. An older man came in and began swimming laps. Though the bubbles hid us well, there was a little exhibitionist thrill to our play. Amber, of course, made it more fun. Teasing that would have to wait until we retired to the room to get busy.

When the man finished his laps, dried off and left, Amber straddled me. "No matter what happens," she whispered, "know that I love you." I was about to respond when I was muffled by her soft lips. I could feel the tension in her. It had been building since the phone call. I disliked her lack of confidence in me, though her lips were more than welcome. 

"It will all work out," I said when she came up for air. Pablo's desire to meet made me think he too wanted this to end. I was confident of a good resolution. Amber's hands lovingly cradled my face.

"You will remember that I love you," she insisted. I nodded and my lips became hers again. Her body molded into mine, the heat of the water and the bubbles from the jets surrounding us. Her love was becoming arousing. She kissed me along my cheek, to my ear. I heard a small laugh that had become a sure sign she wanted to play. Her hand found my suit and fished up my leg to find me aroused. The bubbles stopped. 

I quickly rose from the jacuzzi, Amber laughing, and walked, trying to hide my erection, to the timer mounted on the wall. I gave it another thirty minutes and rushed back to the cover of the reinvigorated bubbles. "You're kind of cute sticking out like that," Amber joked as I slipped back into the water. 

"It's your fault," I said. Her hands slipped under the bubbles and lowered my suit. "I didn't bring anything," I said as my erection became free. Her smile was to die for. 

"Then you'll have to be extra careful," Amber returned as she straddled me again. Her hand fiddled with her suit bottom. "I love you," she repeated. Again, I lost my voice as she lowered herself down on me. 

"What if someone comes in?" I asked, not really caring if someone did. 

"What if you last longer than thirty minutes?" she returned, her eyes laughing at the thought of me running to the timer with my suit around my ankles. She always mixed sensuality with fun and had no trouble getting me to join in with a full heart. I cradled her butt in my hands as she rose and fell, the bubbles tickling parts they weren't intended to find. "Now we're kinky," Amber announced. I had no choice but to laugh. She was so infectious. We made love in the heat slowly, enjoying the possible spectacle we could become. Amber lifted her knees, and I shifted my ass to the edge of the seat so we could find the perfect position. I loved how she began to use me for her pleasure, her hips grinding into me, which in turn made my desire spike. I held her as her fireworks ignited and her fingers dug into my shoulders. I strained to hold on, not wanting to ruin her experience to greedily accept my own. She saw it my face, her hips rose and I exited her. Shaking, she lowered her flower along the bottom side of my shaft, pushing it into my belly. She rode me to my pleasure, stroking me with her velvet lips. Her prideful smile when I erupted was well worth the strain in holding back. 

"I love you," I said, or lips finding each other again. Between the kissing and the laughing, we straightened out our suits. 

"That was fun," Amber said. Everything was fun with her. 

"You like the risk," I observed. Amber smiled and I caught a sparkle in her eye. 

"Once in a while, risks are good," Amber said, "it lets you know you're singularly alive and not just part of the masses." A philosopher and a sex goddess. I wondered what I had done to deserve to have her fall into my lap. 

"I haven't taken risks in many years," I admitted, "you're expanding my mind." 

"I'm your drug," Amber said. She was right. She was a very virulent drug that was taking hold of my mind and body. If she would leave, the withdrawal would be painful. We dried off and headed to the room when the timer once again stopped. We were kind of pruny by then anyway. 

We arrived in Phoenix on schedule. A call to Pablo had me scheduled for the following morning, in the desert. I had to smile as a I brought up the satellite view on my phone. He chose the location because of the isolation. I suspected he thought I was an idiot to agree. I was counting on the fact that he would underestimate me. I could quickly set him off balance and we could settle this with as little bravado as possible. 

Amber didn't like the idea of me meeting Pablo in the desert. Twice, she asked if there was another way. Twice, I answered that it played to my strengths. There was an aura of tension about her. She spent most of the evening trying to be as close as possible to me. I enjoyed the attention, but I wanted my fun-loving girl back. I was hoping all would go as planned and she would be back to normal in a day or so. 

I called Frank. Gabby and he agreed that the meeting site was perfect. It was good to work with like minds. They would head out at sunset and be in position well before to the meeting. Frank sounded excited to be back in the saddle. His life had been pretty boring of late and this was giving him a small thrill. I was hoping Gabby felt the same way. I needed both of them to be at the top of their game to pull this off. 

At Frank's suggestion, I had bought a six pack of beer in bottles. I probably could have found some bottles in the trash, but I liked the idea of relaxing with a few. Amber and I cuddled watching pay-per-view movies in the hotel room. It was the first time we made love that was strictly sensual. Her fear of my meeting removed her laughter. I missed the laughter. She, once again, made me acknowledge that she loved me no matter what happened. My reassurances fell on deaf ears. I was sure she thought she would lose me in the morning. 

I woke early, my phone playing 'Taking Care of Business.' I thought it was a humorous alarm. Amber almost cried. She was wound tightly. I spent more time than I wanted consoling her. I really wanted to end this thing with Pablo. Somber Amber hurt my heart. 

We agreed that she should wait in the hotel and not attend the first meeting. I needed to control the first confrontation and her presence could set Pablo off. If he went postal, all this would be for naught. I kissed Amber and told her I would return in a few hours. This time she cried. She smothered me and begged me not to go. Irrationally, she suggested we run away and hide for the rest of our lives. I was in too deep now. My mind was set on retrieving Lizzy and living without looking over my shoulder. I broke away from her, promising the same. 

"Don't stop loving me," Amber begged as I was leaving. It was a strange statement. I was risking a lot for her. That should have been proof enough that my intentions were in the forever range. 

"Never," I said, adding a smile. I closed the door and headed to the car. Amber's fear confused me. I could only assume she underestimated my abilities. I was wary, but not horribly concerned with this first meeting. I expected to be greeted hostilely and I expected to end that quickly. For some reason, my confidence didn't rub off on Amber. I shrugged it off. Hopefully, we would be back home in a matter of days, laughing at the whole ordeal. 

The drive to the meeting site took about thirty minutes. I was able to find a decent radio station that played more music than talk. A rarity in the morning. I called Frank and verified he and Gabby were set. I owed them big time for spending the night in the desert. I could imagine how their backs felt. None of us were as young as we used to be.

I pulled off onto a powerline access road, heading east. It didn't take long to get to the spot where the meeting would take place. There was a clearing beneath a large transmission tower with lines leading to the north and south. The dirt road teed here, following the lines. I turned my car around to face the entrance to the access road and parked. 

The power lines hummed as I exited the vehicle. I looked around and saw no signs of either Frank or Gabby. I smiled, knowing they could see me even if I had no idea where they were. I saw a few spots I would be if I were the shooter. I grabbed two empty beer bottles and set them up at opposite sides at the edges of the clearing. There was nothing but small shrubs and scattered cacti as far as the eye could see. A nice place to do away with an irritating person. I sat on the hood of my car in the dawn's light. The sun had yet to rise above the horizon. I memorized the colors, trying to envision it in glass. A few scattered clouds many miles away were bathed in a red that leaned toward purple. The desert itself seemed a pale, cool orange that disguised the coming heat. I wouldn't want to hang around in midday, but it was strangely calm and beautiful at that time in the morning. 

A dark SUV came down the access road. The windows were heavily tinted as was expected. Every car in Phoenix had tinted windows. I was sure Pablo wasn't alone, though we had agreed to a private meeting. I lied. He lied. It was to be expected. 

The SUV stopped a good 50 feet before me on the access road. I waited as Pablo surveyed the scene. When no one emerged, I rose off the hood, took a few steps forward and held my bare hands out to my sides and did a 360 turn so he could see I wasn't armed. Pablo emerged from the passenger side. There was at least a driver. 

"Who is in the car?" Pablo asked in Spanish, waving a chromed pistol at me. 

"No one," I replied as I sat back down on the hood, ignoring the gun. I could see my confidence had him on edge. "I thought we were here to talk," I said, gesturing to the gun in his hands. The driver exited the vehicle, armed as well. Pablo ignored my comment and waved the driver forward. I sat calmly as the driver walked around my car and examined the interior. I smiled at Pablo who seemed agitated. 

"Where's the bitch?" Pablo asked, once his driver had verified the empty car. 

"I know you're not referring to Samantha," I said coolly, "these talks will get nowhere if we start name calling." 

"I'm talking," Pablo said, pointing his gun at me, "you're answering." It's wonderful when things work out just like you planned. Pablo completely underestimated me. I smiled which infuriated him. "I'm not going to ask again, where is the bitch?" I formed the shape of gun with my hand and pointed it at the beer bottle to the left. Half a second later, it exploded into hundreds of pieces. The sound of the shot followed quickly. I judged the shooter to be a little more than 300 meters away, though I saw no flash. Frank or Gabby still had it in him. 

Pablo was looking around, unable to determine where the shot came from. The driver was backing toward the SUV, his gun pointed at me. I pointed my finger at the other bottle and it exploded. Pablo was now backing toward the SUV and I could smell his fear. They both knew they could be dropped in a heartbeat.

"We can talk or we can shoot it out," I said. I may or may not survive a shootout. I was content knowing that Frank and Gabby would guarantee Pablo wouldn't survive. Pablo slowed and looked at me, I assume looking for a weakness. I watched as he came to the conclusion that it was talk or suicide. I enjoyed the power it gave me. 

Pablo set his gun down on the hood of his SUV and took a few steps away, holding his hands open at his sides. His driver followed suit. "What is the topic for discussion?" Pablo asked, his lips turning up at the corner. He realized that he had lost some control and tried to become suave as if it was all expected. 

"Samantha, of course," I answered, "I would like to negotiate her and Lizzy's separation from you." Pablo gave me a look that confused me. His head tilted sideways as he seemed to digest my words. I did not expect my request to be surprising. It looked like he was having trouble trying to figure out my meaning. 

"Samantha wants me to keep away from her?" Pablo asked incredulously. Now I was confused. I was beginning to think I had lost more Spanish than I thought. I nodded in silence, not sure what I was missing and not wanting to admit that I was. "And why should I believe such a thing?" Pablo asked with equal trepidation, "you have gunmen hidden," he continued, waving his hand out toward the open desert, "why have you not just shot me?"

"I am trying to avoid bloodshed," I responded. I tried desperately to hide my confusion. 

"She told you to do this?" Pablo continued his questioning. Something was off kilter. I had meant to be in control by this point. 

"I have devised this meeting," I answered strongly.

"Why are you in the middle of this?" he asked, pointing at me. I had lost control of the discussion and needed to get it back. I ignored his question.

"As you say, I have gunmen hidden," I said with authority, "I am well trained in the art of hunting down criminals, as are my friends. I am what you would call semi-retired. I wish to remain so and I think you would prefer me that way. I have no interest in your business as long as it doesn't find its way to my doorstep. Do you follow me so far?" Pablo nodded.

"Samantha is under my protection," I continued, "I intend to bring Lizzy under it as well. If you ignore our existence, we will ignore yours. She will never talk to the Feds and we all live happily ever after." Pablo laughed. I didn't see the humor so I waited patiently for him to stop.

"Who will protect you from her?" Pablo asked, not even trying to hold a straight face. I was beginning to wonder if we were talking about the same person.

"You will abide by this agreement?" I asked, trying to maintain control. 

"She will never live up to it," Pablo said shaking his head no. 

"Your agreement will be with me," I informed him. 

"How much is she paying you?" Pablo asked, "no, no" he continued wiping the question away with his hand, "I would be dead if she were paying you. She must have something on you. Maybe I could help you with that." 

"She doesn't...what the fuck is wrong with you?" I demanded, "you have her scared to death and on the run. She wants out and I'm going to make sure she gets out." I hopped off the hood when Pablo started laughing again. My anger was rising and I sensed things I hadn't felt in years. 

"Scared?" Pablo choked out, "she has been described many ways, but fear isn't part of her make up." His eyes widened when he saw my face. I guessed I looked as angry as I felt. The driver moved next to Pablo, also sensing a fight coming. Pablo's laughter died away. "You, my friend, are being taken for a ride." I stopped my approach. 

"I'm not your friend," I spat. 

"Who do you think Samantha is?" Pablo asked. The love of my life, but I wasn't going to share that with him. "You think she is an innocent in all this?"

"She got in over her head," I replied. 

"She was the head," Pablo said, smiling slyly, "she created our little empire and used me to build it larger." He had to be lying. "I was a mechanic and Roberto here," he gestured to the driver, "was working as a janitor before we met Samantha." I wanted to put a bullet in his head. Anything to shut him up. My subconscious had me standing still and listening. "I was nothing but her figurehead. Someone to take the fall." He pointed at me and I saw his own anger rising, "That bitch tried to hang me out to dry. Put me in a hole and keep the spoils herself. She will cut off your dick when she is done with you too." 

What Pablo was saying didn't make any sense. Amber was not even close to who he was describing. My body was firm, but my mind was reeling. This guy wasn't smart enough to fabricate a complex set of lies. I was losing my moral high ground, or at least what resembled it. I looked over at Roberto and he was nodding in agreement. Fuck, he was nothing but a lackey. I had to find the truth. Right now, my heart trusted Amber...or was it my dick.

"I'll admit I want her dead," Pablo continued, "but trust me, it is strictly self defense. She set me up to lose a delivery and get bumped by the cartel. The bitch wanted it all and tried to give me up to get it. I figured it out in time, and people chose sides. Her side was lonely."

I took a step back, reeling at the information, trying to sort fact from fiction. It was an impossible game of he-said-she-said. I was no longer confident I was in the right. I felt weaker. Amber's nervousness about the meeting could now mean two things. Her 'no matter what, know that I love you' was now tainted. I looked down at the ground and rubbed the back of my hand across my lips. 

"Fuck!" I shouted. Pablo jumped, thinking it was a signal. My head was hurting as all my thoughts got jumbled up. I was rethinking every word Amber had told me. I couldn't separate truth from lies.

"She will kill you," Pablo said. I pointed my finger at him and I saw the color leave his face. I was pretty sure Frank and Gabby would not shoot an unarmed man who seemed such a little threat, but Pablo didn't know that. I slowly lowered my arm, not sure if I was threatening the right person. Maybe the finger should be pointed at my head. An old sucker that should have known better than to let someone in. I closed my eyes and thought about the last two weeks. Amber liked everything, forgave everything and was perfect in every way. She was vulnerable at all the right times. It was too good to be true. I still wanted it to be true. 

"Touch her before I know what is going on, and I will bring a war down on you," I said clearly.

"She will be coming after me," Pablo said, "I'll call off the hunt, but don't expect me to suck up her bullets to avoid yours." 

"Go," I demanded. I stood there watching Pablo and Roberto rearm, climb into their SUV and drive away. I raised my hand in the air and drew quick circles. I saw Frank rise from a position I would have never suspected. Gabby was in one I had considered earlier. Both were decked out in ghillie suits that made them look like desert monsters. I spent some time thinking as they walked toward me. If I had been fooled and risked Frank and Gabby, I wasn't sure I could forgive myself, much less Amber. I wanted so much for her love to be real. I looked at the rising sun. It held no color I could enjoy. No glass could compensate for my weakness. 

"How did it go?" Frank asked as he entered the clearing. I wasn't sure what to tell him. "That bad, huh," he continued when he was close enough to see my face. 

"Long time, Mark," Gabby said as he came up on the other side. I smiled at the friends who were willing to risk all at my word. I felt like I just shit on them. I shook Gabby's grizzled hand.

"I'm glad you both still hit what you aim at," I complimented. 

"Shit, bottles don't move," Gabby said, "how could we miss?" Frank laughed, knowing that it was a tough shot either way. They probably spent a lot of time at a range realigning their scopes. 




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 09



"I may have been lied to," I said, "and I brought you two in on it." Frank lost his smile. He had a good idea what that meant. 

"No one died," Gabby said, "no harm done and I needed the practice." 

"Where is your vehicle?" I asked. 

"Three miles down," Frank pointed to the east, "there's another access road we found."

"Hop in," I said, nodding to my car, "I'll give you a lift." A three mile walk and sleeping out in the desert. All for a man who couldn't tell truth from lie. My stomach didn't feel good. I risked the only friends I had for her. I wanted the love to be true. 

"Oh, fuck," Franks sighed when I told him the story. I could see it in his eyes. He felt as betrayed as I did. He looked out the window, hiding his thoughts which I was sure included strangling Amber. 

"You don't know the truth yet," Gabby interjected. I looked back and saw optimism on Gabby's face. His beard hid his lips, but his eyes were alive and inquisitive.

"I'm still hoping," I admitted, "I don't even know how to broach the subject when I see her."

"Flat out ask," Frank said, "you'll see the truth of it in her eyes." I had to smile. Frank had a thing for the truth. He never needed all the facts, but lies bit into him hard. If he had his way, we would torture the truth out of her. I suspected it would take much less than that, though I wasn't sure if I could trust what she would tell me. 

"I'm sorry for dragging you guys out here," I apologized. More guilt to heap onto my mountains.

"What's done is done," Gabby said, "I would have done the same thing." Frank nodded in agreement. At least I was forgiven, though my debt to these two had just increased. 

I dropped them off at their vehicle, once again begging their forgiveness. They assured me it was more interesting than taxing. I think they enjoyed being back on a mission, even one that was FUBAR from the beginning. We traded strong hugs and promised to get together for fishing in the coming months. At least you don't have to worry about the fish taking you for a fool. 

I arrived at the hotel and stood outside the door of the room for a few minutes. I wanted to walk in and let my image of Amber remain in a loving state. I didn't want it to end. I also knew that it could never be so. I had to know the truth, and asking would damage us. I took a few deep breaths, unlocked the door and entered. 

I knew as soon as I entered that Pablo wasn't lying. Amber was gone. Her things were gone. She took her love with her and left. I stared at the empty room and tried to decide if it was a good thing or bad. I was alone again. A few weeks ago that was perfectly okay. Now, the fantasy that was Amber ruined the idea. The illusion of happiness had wrecked everything. 

I did what I hadn't done in years. I decided to self medicate. I went to a liquor store and bought a fifth of Four Roses. That and a loaded ice bucket became my friends. I drank and tried to forget my idiocy. I closed my eyes and tried to assemble imaginary glass into works of art. I couldn't. I drank some more. I realized the hotel glasses didn't hold enough so I started drinking out of the bottle. Ice had become more of a hindrance anyway. It clogged up at my lips and had a tendency to steer the booze off the sides of my mouth and onto my shirt. Highly inefficient and wasteful.

I started streaming The Hollies using my phone's speakers. It was a little on the tinny side, but my bourboned ears didn't seem to mind. I verbally admonished the bottle when it decided to jump off the nightstand. I stood too quickly, then bent down to pick it up. Blood rushed in the wrong directions and everything went black as the floor smacked me in the face. Anesthesia successfully administered. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 10



Author's note: Chapter 10 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 10

I felt the inside of my head before I felt anything else. The blood sloshed around in the most painful way possible at the slightest movement. My forehead was damp and cool and my mouth was moist. I tried to open my eyes, but the light hurt so I left them closed. I was on the filthy hotel carpet, that much I could feel. The place smelled of stale bourbon. My head was cradled softly. I must have dragged a pillow down from the bed. Something cool dripped into my mouth. I startled my eyes open. 

A foggy image sharpened. Amber, tears streaming down her cheeks, was squeezing water from a washcloth into my mouth. I tried to speak. My first words were not going to be kind. Bile rose in my throat and whatever was churning in my stomach decided it was time to exit. I groaned and rolled onto my hands and knees. I pushed myself up and forced Amber away as she tried to help. I stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, which sent a spike of pain through my head. I leaned over the toilet and emptied last night into it. Then I tried to empty the last two weeks. My tolerance was not what it used to be. 

I spent a long time trying to collect myself. I was afraid to leave the toilet and even more afraid to leave the bathroom. I washed my face a few times and brushed my teeth. I tried to consume some water with limited success. Then I sat on the toilet and stared at the floor tile. Amber was probably still outside. I couldn't trust her tears anymore than her words. I almost had people killed for her. I almost had people killed for me so I could have her. It was South America all over again. Death for all the wrong reasons. My head was pounding and my intestines felt like they had been dragged through a wringer. It wasn't a good morning. I let my anger steady me. Never a good crutch.

I had intended to burst out of the bathroom, spewing a whirlwind of hate. I didn't have the energy to burst and as soon as I saw Amber's face, hate died on my lips. She had wiped her tears away, but the redness around her eyes still held the evidence. She was sitting at the small table at the other end of the room. Silent and looking at me, ready for whatever onslaught I had prepared. My mouth opened and nothing came out. I didn't know what to say and which Amber would be listening anyway. I jumped ahead, past the screaming and accusations. I began to pack. Leaving was inevitable and the only guaranteed result.

"Do you hate me now?" Amber asked. Her voice was weak. I didn't trust it. I couldn't trust it. 

"Why did you come back?" I threw a question back at her. My small suitcase was accepting the punishment I should have been inflicting on her. 

"Because I'm messed up," Amber said and then looked away toward the curtained windows,"I ran because I couldn't stay. I came back because I couldn't leave." 

I slammed my dirty pants into the suitcase. Poor thing, it was a cheap discount suitcase and never did anything to warrant such abuse. I almost let a string of expletives loose, but took a deep breath instead. I just needed to leave. This was just another failed chapter in the very bad book of my life. 

"You should have stayed gone," I said with a calm that surprised even me. No more regrets. I had a new goal. No more risks and no more regrets. Maybe more booze. 

"I lied to you," Amber admitted, "things spiraled and I didn't know how to stop it without admitting I was trash. So I took the coward's way out." My anger flared. So much for regrets. 

"I almost killed for you," I shouted, my hand rising of its own volition. I almost struck her for what she had allowed to happen. Amber didn't flinch. In fact, she slightly pushed her face forward. I let my hand drop to my side and sat heavily on the bed. "My friends almost killed for you," I sighed. I looked up and her tears were flowing again. My eyes began to water, "Are those even real?" I stuttered as I pointed at her face. 

"Not all things are lies," Amber said, and started crying, "sometimes, even I can't tell the difference anymore." She buried her head in her hands. I resisted the reflex to hold her and shifted farther away. 

"I can't live a lie," I said, standing, "I have enough trouble with the past. A clouded future isn't for me."

"What do you want to know?" Amber asked softly. Her face was streaked with tears, but her voice was clear. I looked at her and shook my head.

"I wouldn't know if it was true," I said and returned to my packing. I found the bottle, mostly empty, nearly under the bed. I wondered how much I drank and how much I spilled. I screwed the cap back on and threw it in the trash. 

"I stole prescription sheets from Dr. Levinstein," Amber began, "I was young and wanted money, but I didn't want to work for it. I seduced Pablo and he and his friends began filling the prescriptions and selling the drugs. We crossed paths with a larger dealer named Tether who threatened us for crossing into his turf. I negotiated terms that made us all happy. He lead us to more suppliers and the business grew. I pushed Tether out when he got in the way of our growth. We took over his business. During this time, I became a mother. At first I thought it was a hoot. Figured I could nanny the child away. I certainly had the money for it."

I stopped packing and sat on the bed again. Amber continued, "We grew and brought on more people. Pablo began taking on more and more. I cringed when we mixed with the cartel. I wanted to stay independent. Pablo wanted the money and power that came with a cartel franchise. I set him up when first big deal went through. I'm not sure if it was for business reasons or the fear of losing control. It became Pablo or me. He saw through it and I ran." 

"I have no practice being a nice person," Amber said, "all I know is the last two weeks were the best time I have ever had. Yesterday, the worst." I had little doubt I was hearing the truth. "I am a terrible mother and a worse human being." She paused looking at me. I had trouble disagreeing with her so I remained silent. "I am a better person with you. I want to be better. I don't want to go on as half a person anymore." Trust had to be earned. I opened my suitcase and fished the prepaid phone out of my dirty pants. I tossed it on the bed in front of Amber.

"Give Pablo the business," I said. 

"He hasn't taken it?" Amber replied with a questing look.

"Call him and tell him it is all his and you want no part of it," I repeated. 

"It's worth millions," Amber said. I went back to packing. She still had visions of taking it back. She saw me as the fulcrum to tip the scales. I spent too many years and expended too much guilt in the fruitless fight against it all to become part of it now. I turned my back on her and went into bathroom to pack my toothbrush and razor. When I returned from the bathroom, Amber was gone. I had my answer; she had given it twice. 

The drive home was hell. Once again the world had shit on my life. I had let it in, and it all came crashing down around me. I wondered briefly, when I was crossing a bridge, what it would be like to just turn the wheel and find the bottom of the gorge. It had an appeal. One didn't feel pain in the grave. I let the thought wander away. I did not fear death, but had a healthy respect for dying. Knowing my luck, I would wake up in the hospital missing my arms and legs. 

I purposely drove into the night. I wanted to put many miles between Phoenix and me. It didn't eliminate the pain, but at least it felt like I was accomplishing something. I tried in vain to think of my art. Something that was so simple for me before, became a burden. I had to force the colors and they never felt right. Anger and disappointment were overshadowing my thoughts and my art was suffering. I didn't like myself anymore.

I was home for five days and hadn't even entered the workshop. The river flowed without me. It held memories of lunches that would never be repeated. I ate, I walked and I brooded. I tried to use music to change my mood. It was all dull and lifeless. I was dull and lifeless. Everything I had I invested in Amber. She took it all with her. 

"Long time, Mark," Tracy said brightly when I entered Stained LIfe. I faked a smile and said hello. I had decided I needed a treasure hunt to get me going again. I wanted to love my art again. At least it had little chance of disappointing me. It certainly wouldn't lie to me or take me for a fool. 

"I thought you may have moved or something," Tracy continued as she moved out from behind the counter. Wonderful, now I had disappointed her. I guess coming in once a week for years made me reliable. I was shirking my duties. 

"No," I said too strongly. I corrected my tone, "I had some things I had to deal with." I kept my fake smile hoping she wouldn't think less of me. At least my relationship with her was easy to quantify. There were no hidden agendas or drug lords. She ignored my tone and waved me over to where the wooden crates of glass were kept. I followed.

"I got these in last week," Tracy said as she open the cabinet below the glass, "they were so unique, I thought you might like to get first crack at them." I hated when people did things like that for me. Now I felt obliged to buy some of it whether I liked it or not. Tracy lifted a box of glass onto the top of the cabinet, sliding the other boxes to the sides. Her smile told me she thought she was doing me a favor. I tried to look excited as I moved to look through the glass. 

My smile faded. The glass was truly unique. The first panel was a blueish glass with wisps of white smoke running through it all jumbled by angry black swirls. The panel practically screamed at me, it was so filled with pain. It was my glass and fit my mood. I saw an ocean of the stuff, a ship floundering in a storm. My smile returned as I saw the work sitting beside my lighthouse piece.

"This is perfect," I said without any faking, "it's just what I need." I thumbed through more of the pieces and found my ship. There was a dirty white with brown streaks that begged to be my sails. Tracy stood off the to side, her pride evident in her smile. She knew what I liked. Art filled my mind. I was finally home again.

"I knew you would like them," Tracy commented as I dug deeper. I smiled, a real honest no need to fake it, smile. I was happy to let the anger dissipate into the glass. I would art my way out of the pain and peace would return to my mind. It felt good to have a mission again.

"The last week has been really crappy, Tracy," I said, "but you just made my day." She had one of those laughs that began in the throat and ended up in the nose. Normally, it would have annoyed me, but today it was music. I was happy, and Tracy was happy. I no longer carried what the rest of the world was feeling. I entered my hermit bubble once again. 

I spent the next four days building a storm scene. In it, I injected every bad feeling I had. At first, the ship was to be smashed against the rocks. Dido changed that, softened the end result with her soothing voice. The ship would weather the storm, but not after being damaged. It took some time to get the sky just right. Angry, forceful winds ripping at the sails. I wasted as much glass as I ended up using. Patterns that looked right on paper, lost themselves in the glass. It didn't matter. The end result was magnificent. One of my finest pieces of work. I mounted it about a foot away from my lighthouse. 

I went down to the river that afternoon. It was hotter than normal for the time of year. I ended up sharing my lunch with the many insects. I sat on the dock, no longer marred by memories of Amber, and watched the river flow. Some frog was singing its throaty mating song, birds flew and dragonflies hovered like nature's little helicopters. Life was again satisfactory. 

Amber, or I should say the pre-Pheonix Amber, still found her way into my thoughts every now and then. It would cause a brief smile, and I would let it float away before it mixed with the bad memories. I had to admit to myself that I still loved the pre-Pheonix Amber. Even with the lies unwrapped, she still had some pull.

I was able to secure a contract for a large window. It was a replacement for one that was vandalized. Luckily, they had good pictures of the old window which allowed me to mirror it pretty well. It took almost three weeks to complete. It was too heavy to chance shipping through the normal channels. Instead, I decided to deliver it myself. It was only a day's drive so I rented a truck and headed out. 

I ended up spending two days on site to make sure it was mounted correctly. The homeowners really loved the job I did, so basking in their praise made the days go by pretty quickly. I had to admit, I had done a pretty good reproduction. My choice of patina for the solder was spot-on when I compared it to some of the shattered remnants. I was pretty pleased with myself driving the truck back. 

It was late when I finally returned home. When I turned off the headlights, I saw light leaking out of the windows in the workshop. I thought I had turned them off before I left. I moved toward the workshop and noticed that there were lights on in the house as well. I slowed and hugged the shadows as I neared the door. There was light, happy music playing, almost what you would expect from an ice cream truck. I moved to the door and heard a voice. It was lost in the music and I couldn't make it out. 

I looked to the house and saw no movement. I moved away from the workshop and toward the front porch. I heard no noise from inside the house. The front door was locked. I quietly moved around the back, opposite the workshop. One of the small panes in the back door was missing, replaced with duct tape. The door was unlocked. I took a deep breath and quietly entered. The kitchen and great room were empty. I moved to my office, the file cabinet was still closed and locked. I pulled out my keys and unlocked it, retrieving my .45. I cringed at every sound I made, but there didn't seem to be anyone in the house to hear it. I checked the bath, utility and bedroom. I almost fell over a large sports bag in the middle of the bedroom. I dragged it into the light and unzipped it. It was full of clothes, women's clothes. I recognized some and sighed. 

I engaged the safety on the .45 and put it in the back of my pants and covered it with my shirt. I moved to the kitchen and opened the cupboard where the extra keys hung. The workshop key was gone. I quietly returned to the workshop, quite certain I would find Amber inside. I wasn't looking forward to the confrontation. I hadn't run far enough away. I tried hard to stifle my anger. I was failing. 

I opened to door, the music covering the sound. Amber had her back to me, and, kneeling on a stool next to her, was a young girl I could only assume was Lizzy. They were working on something on the back table. 

"It won't stick all the way," Lizzy said, frustrated with whatever she was working on. 

"Put more glue on it," Amber said. 

"It's already half on," Lizzy countered, "I can't glue it now." Amber laughed patiently. 

"Peal it off first, silly," Amber said. I saw Lizzy's arms moving, following the instructions. "See, it's fine."

"I'll get the next one," Lizzy said and turned. When she saw me, her face blanched and she dove into Amber. I could see some of Amber in her face. I expected a darker South American tone to her skin, but she held to her mother's pale tone and dusty brown hair. 

"Whoa, don't fall off the..." Amber started to say, then saw me. I let my anger go. This was not the time with Lizzy present. Amber looked at me, trying to judge my expression. I signaled the lack of argument by smiling. Amber gave me an uncertain smile back. 

"What are you two making?" I asked with a bounce in my voice. I didn't know how to talk to kids, but I sensed it should be happy sounding. Lizzy looked at me then back at Amber. She was deferring the answer to her mother. 

"I...you weren't here and we were kind of stuck," Amber fumbled, "I'm sorry about the back door, but it was getting late and you weren't here... I taped it and...well Lizzy wanted to see how her flower was made." Her voice was precious china. She would have shattered if I showed any anger. I wondered if the fragility was faked. 

"I can fix the door," I responded, "I have plenty of glass." Amber forced a chuckle. Lizzy looked scared. The way her eyes moved felt so uncomfortable. I wanted it to end. 

"Did you get some dinner?" I asked, looking at Lizzy. She shook her head and then buried it back into her mother. "Well, that we might be able to fix," I said smiling, "you ever eat breakfast at night?" She shook her head again, but this time she didn't fall back into Amber. 

"I have eggs, bacon and cereal," I listed it on my fingers, "I can also make pancakes." Lizzy had no poker face. Her eyes lit up when I said pancakes. "I prefer pancakes myself," I lied. Amber smiled for real. It hit me with more force than I expected. I tried to ignore it. 

"Pancakes," Lizzy agreed, nodding her head. 

"Let's eat, " I said, tilting my head toward the house, "then you can show me what you're making." Lizzy released her mom and started following me. Amber, smiling, followed after her. I had a strange feeling I was outnumbered. 

"You can call me Mark," I said when Lizzy caught up with me. 

"I am Elizabeth," she said, "but everyone calls me Lizzy. It's easier to spell." Child logic I guessed. It made a strange bit of sense. 

"I like the Zs" I said for no particular reason. It just seemed to fit her logic. She smiled. I guess she liked them too.

Lizzy and I made the pancakes. Amber sat back watching. I measured and Lizzy mixed. A little of the batter ended up on the counter, but I ignored it. For some reason I felt sorry for her. Her parents were less than respectable and one of them just dragged her across the country to the house of a man she didn't know. 

I learned one thing about little girls that I didn't know. If they think you are listening, they are talking. I learned a lot about the long bus ride she took with an in-depth description of the toilet that was obviously gross. She liked spaghetti, but disliked lasagna. The difference in the texture of the noodles seemed to be her big concern. Purple was her favorite color. I knew that already, but I had no idea which shade of purple. It turned out it was the lighter shade. The dark one wasn't fun enough. I had always thought kids asked a lot of questions. Not Lizzy. She imparted information at a furious rate. 

I slowed her down by letting her flip the pancakes. I was terrified she might try to touch the pan, but she handled it well. The flipping part was difficult for her and took two hands on the spatula while she knelled on a stool. Her hands never came near the heat to my great relief. She was particularly proud of putting the finished product on the plates. One found the floor, but I just laughed with her and we cooked another. When we finally sat down to eat, Amber's eyes were glued to mine. Every time I looked back at her, her lips curled up. We needed to talk. I couldn't decide if I was going to yell at her or kiss her. I wanted to do both - at the same time. Damn her smile. 

I wasn't really sure if Lizzy liked the pancakes or not. I had no doubt she liked syrup. I think the pancake was just a tool to get more syrup into her mouth. I ate, mesmerized by the volume of syrup Lizzy consumed. I wasn't sure it was good for her, but after a long bus ride she deserved to break a few rules. I tried to keep the conversation on Lizzy. I didn't want to discuss the pending adult topics in front of her, even in a veiled sense. Amber remained strangely quiet. She threw in a word once in awhile, but left Lizzy to drive most of the conversation. She was using Lizzy as a buffer. Damn if I wasn't letting her. 




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 10



Lizzy insisted on helping wash the dishes. Amber sat back, smiling and watching as Lizzy and I washed the plates. Lizzy washed and I dried. She got herself as wet as any of the dishes, but I let it go. She was pleased with herself, and I didn't want to ruin it for her. Amber took Lizzy into the bedroom to change her shirt when we were done. I quickly wiped up the wet floor before they came back. 

"I'm making a bee," Lizzy said, showing me the pattern. They had gone through my glass supply and found some yellow/gold glass and some almost black glass. It was from an old pattern I got when I first started. A cartoonish-looking bee with distinct yellow and black stripes. I guess they had spent some time picking it out. It wasn't horribly difficult, but the antenna might be a challenge for a newbie. 

"Well it looks like you started it right," I said. They had duplicated the pattern in the copier and cut out the shapes. 

"Mom cut out most of it," Lizzy said, "I'm doing the gluing." It was an abundance of glue. Nothing that would hurt the final product.

"I've never made a bee," I said truthfully, "a very unique choice. I can't wait to see how it turns out." I heard Amber sigh. I looked over and saw that smile. I connected the dots. Finishing the bee would require I didn't kick them out right away. I smiled back at her. No, I wasn't going to send them out into the night. 

"I picked it out," Lizzy announced. I didn't know why I enjoyed the pride she felt. Maybe it was because it was stained glass. I liked sharing my art. 

"Well, we should probably put it away for tonight," I said, "you can start again in the morning."

"Are we going to have dinner for breakfast?" Lizzy asked. That kid logic again. 

"No," I laughed, "probably cereal." That seemed to agree with Lizzy. 

Against Amber's objections, I gave her and Lizzy the bedroom and I was going to take the couch. Amber got Lizzy ready for bed while I stowed my .45 back in the file cabinet. I gathered some blankets and an extra pillow and put together the couch for an uncomfortable night. With all the driving I did, I would most likely not notice anyway. 

Amber shut the door to the bedroom and joined me on my makeshift bed. "She's going to be asleep in just a minute," she said as if I would know. 

"Why are you here?" I asked. I made sure it was a simple question. Not one fraught with accusation. 

"I didn't know where else to go," Amber admitted. "Pablo is dead." That I didn't expect and it showed on my face. "I didn't have anything to do with it," she said when she misinterpreted my surprise. "Something went wrong with the cartel. He was in over his head and some of his people turned on him. I don't know the whole story, but I think Lizzy and I may be on the list." It didn't surprise me that Amber was on the list, but Lizzy was blameless. Those kids in the car flashed back in my mind. The screams still echoed. 

"Does she know?" I asked.

"No," Amber replied, "Pablo was a worse father than I am a mother. She saw less of him than she saw of me." She paused for a moment. "Can you not hate me for a few days? At least until I figure out what to do."

"Anger and love are all mixed together right now," I replied honestly, "I'm not going to send you away." I smiled. "I kind of want to see what kind of bee Lizzy can build." 

"She likes you," Amber said, leaning toward me. I leaned away which startled her a little.

"You knew I wouldn't throw you out," I said, nodding toward the bedroom, "I told you about those kids in Colombia, and you knew I couldn't put Lizzy at risk." Amber stared at me for a moment, assembling a measured response. 

"Yes," she said quietly and dropped her eyes toward the floor. I wished I knew how to divide the acting from the real Amber. I so much wanted the lunch-on-the-river Amber. 

"I wouldn't have thrown you out either way," I said, "I pray Lizzy isn't here just to convince me to help you." 

"Lizzy is here, because her mother is here," Amber said looking up. "I won't deny I hoped you wanted to protect her. We don't have anyone else right now." She didn't understand me. Maybe she thought I was the actor. I took a deep breath and tried to explain. 

"Do you remember our lunches on the river?" I asked. Her smile emerged and she nodded. Damn that smile. "I would jump in front of a bullet for that woman...Now I am not sure if I am being pushed into the bullet." Amber blanched. Her body retreated farther from mine as my mistrust washed through her. 

"I'll make some calls tomorrow and I'll try to figure out how much trouble you two are in," I said, so she understood that my mistrust didn't lead to abandonment. 

"No," Amber said quickly, "no one knows where we are. I can't have you risking more." After putting me out in the desert with Pablo, her concern seemed disingenuous. 

"A few questions won't put us at risk," I countered. 

"Please," Amber insisted, "just let us hide here for a while. Promise you won't do anything. You've done too much already." There was a thread of panic in her tone. I felt her pushing me out in front as the bullet approached. 

"Okay," I lied, "no calls." She gave me a fake smile. 

"I should check on Lizzy," Amber said and rose. Her movements were hesitant, almost like she wished to say more. Whatever it was, disappeared. She headed to the bedroom.

"Goodnight," I said softly. She paused and turned. That smile again.

"Goodnight," she returned. I watched her disappear behind the door. I wasn't sure what kind of insanity I was involved with this time. I only knew I would find out. There was no way I was acting blindly with that woman again. I quietly went for a walk outside and called Frank. He thought I was insane to help Amber again. I couldn't disagree. He would make the necessary inquiries and get back to me. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 11



Author's note: Chapter 11 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 11

The smell of coffee woke me from my uncomfortable slumber. Amber was in the kitchen, once again in my robe. She smiled when she saw me sit up. "Lizzy is still asleep," she whispered and pointed to the porch door. I stood, stretched some couch kinks out of my muscles and followed her and the coffee to the porch. She handed me a cup when I sat down. 

"Good morning," Amber said when she caught my eyes. Deja vu. She had recreated our previous mornings down to the robe.

"Good morning," I returned as I sipped from my cup. I was engaging my defenses. They were weak. I kept thinking she was naked under the robe. Visions of laughing in the shower were running through my mind. It would be easier if she was pointing a gun at me. At least I would know where I stood. 

"I never lied when I said I liked it out here," Amber pointed out. Her voice was even, as if it was natural to point out the truth from the lies. My mouth almost jumped ahead of my brain. I forced it to not spill out the lies she had told me. We both knew what they were. It was a pretty morning and I had a pretty girl in a robe serving me coffee. I would just stick to the present. 

"It is nice," my mouth surrendered. I took another sip to reward it for its cooperation. We spent a moment soaking in nature. 

"The river looks lower," Amber observed.

"It always drops in the summer," I said, "the fall rains will fill it up again." The talk never strayed past the observable. Comfort hadn't returned to us. It was my fault for not letting it back in. We enjoyed the coffee. We enjoyed nature. We tolerated each other. 

"Mom!" The hysterical scream came from Lizzy, inside the house. I moved quicker than Amber, dropping my coffee and sprinting through the door. Lizzy, in tears, was shaking in front of the couch. I looked quickly for a threat and saw none. She dove into me, wrapping her arms around my waist, burying her head into my stomach. 

"What's wrong?" I asked too loudly. 

"I thought...you... left me," Lizzy stuttered through her tears. My muscles relaxed and Amber kneeled down next me. I let out the breath I was holding. I tried to push back the memory of burning children. 

"We were just on the porch," Amber smiled, caressing the back of Lizzy's head. Lizzy moved from me to Amber and lodged herself in her mother's arms. I sat on the couch, trying to force my heart to slow down. She had woken in a strange house. No one was dying. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. Too much adrenaline first thing in the morning. I opened my eyes to see both girls staring at me. 

"I'm sorry I scared you," Lizzy said. Her fear was replaced by worry. I couldn't help it, I laughed. I guess it was the right thing to do. Amber and Lizzy started laughing. Amber tickled Lizzy to make her laugh harder. All terror forgotten, we moved on to breakfast. Cereal, as I promised. 

It was strange. When I was alone with Amber, there was an awkwardness that prevailed. When Lizzy was present, it was forgotten and ease replaced it. Lizzy was a buffer that forced us, me in particular, to shove aside our misgivings and live in the now. My choices of cereal were adequate, but not top-list. We all went through our favorites. Mine, Raisin Bran, was on the table. It obviously didn't have a high enough sugar content for Lizzy. She leaned toward Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch and Amber liked Cinnamon Chex. We gathered votes on other brands and finally decided we would need to go shopping in town. Amber was smiling during the whole conversation. I think she liked the domesticity of it all. I watched her eyes travel between Lizzy and me, watching how we reacted to each other. I was more confused than ever. Amber was a million people rolled into one. 

Lizzy, on the other hand, was easy to define. She never camouflaged her desires. She made them quite clear and explained them in detail. I knew more about her in less than one day than I knew of her mother. I didn't even know Amber's favorite color. 

We spent the morning on the bee. I found a pair of safety glasses for Lizzy. I had to use a rubber band to get them to stay on her head. She looked like a bug herself. We went through a lot of scrap glass teaching her how to cut. She was determined to cut out the pieces herself even if it was frustrating to learn. I remained surprisingly patient. Her determination excited me. Once we got past the part of her trying to use the cutter like a pencil, she got the hang of it. Her favorite part was breaking the glass. She was way too young and I spent most of time making sure my fingers were at risk instead of hers. It took the better part of the morning to cut out the pieces.

"Why don't I take you ladies out for lunch?" I said, "we can hit the grocery store and stock up on things like Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch." I had an ulterior motive. We needed to pick up some lead-free solder. There was no way I was going to have Lizzy working with lead at her age. The soldering iron would be set higher, but possible burns are better than brain damage. 

"I'm hungry," Lizzy said. I could tell she liked the idea of the grocery store as well. She looked up at her mom. Amber had been standing back, allowing me to help Lizzy. Her smile never left her as she watched us work. She liked that I was bonding with Lizzy. I wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but Lizzy liked working with glass. The thought of not helping her never entered my mind. 

"Lunch would be wonderful, Mark," Amber agreed. Her eyes even smiled at me. I wished I knew if she was acting or not. I wanted to trust the smile. I started toward the door and Lizzy ran up next to me and grabbed my hand.

"Do I glue the pieces together next?" Lizzy asked as she settled in to my pace. 

"In a way," I replied. I had trouble not being enthused by her enthusiasm, "you have to grind the pieces smooth first. Then you melt metal and use that like glue." 

"Oh," Lizzy said as her mind tried to envisioned it. "I'm going to need help the first time." She said as if I was planning to leave it to her. I smiled and squeezed her hand. She was as bad as her mother, though I was sure she wasn't acting. I glanced back at Amber who was wiping at her eyes. She straightened quickly when she saw me. I pretended not to notice as I led them back to the house. 

"Tracy, this is Amber and Lizzy." I introduced the two to my favorite glass proprietor. Lizzy's eyes went wide at all the stuff in the store. "Lizzy needs some lead-free solder."

"What are you making?" Tracy asked Lizzy, like a kindergarten teacher. Lizzy seemed drawn to the voice.

"A bee," Lizzy responded, "I have to grind it next." Tracy's face lit up which forced a big smile from Lizzy. 

"My, my you do know what you're doing," Tracy complimented.

"Mark is helping me," Lizzy said, pointing at me. 

"Well then, you have an excellent teacher," Tracy returned, "come on, you can pick out the solder." Lizzy, with no trepidation, left us to follow Tracy. I would have figured a woman as large as Tracy would have been frightening to a child. Obviously, Tracy had experience with kids. 

"Thank you," Amber whispered when the two were out of earshot. I turned and was surprised by a kiss on my cheek. If it would have been on my lips I would have pushed her off. I wasn't ready to resume that type of contact. Amber knew that. I wish I knew if she was acting. 

"For what?" I asked, trying to suppress the smile the kiss caused. 

"For Lizzy," Amber replied, "for not ignoring her." She paused a moment, "For liking her." It was such a strange statement. What was not to like? Lizzy was honest and really liked glass. She was a bit gabby, but never repeated herself so it wasn't boring. 

"She's wonderful, why wouldn't I like her?" I asked. What followed caught me by surprise. I didn't push her off. I should have, but her lips were so wonderfully soft. Exactly how I remembered them, before I knew the lies. The sneak attack was completely unfair and I had no defense. I surrendered without a word. She pulled back with dreams in her eyes. I've seen glass like that, perfect pieces that required no cutting. I was trusting the lies. 

"That's how I remember you," Amber said and then moved down one of the aisles to follow after Lizzy. I watched her walk away, my heart cracking through its hardened shell. I couldn't help thinking I was being used again. I couldn't help thinking I liked it. 

Lizzy ran out with a spool of solder and a set of small gloves. "Tracy gave me gloves," Lizzy announced. They were extra small, heat-resistant gloves. Tracy was worried about the soldering iron. I should have thought of it myself. I knew better than to try to pay for the gift. It would have insulted Tracy. 

"I told you this is the best glass store in the world," I said, smiling at Tracy. I could pad the bill though. "I think there are other patterns you might like," I added, pointing Lizzy at the racks of magazines and patterns. Lizzy ran. Amber followed, her damn smile slaughtering what was left of my common sense. 

"You have a budding artist on your hands," Tracy said. 

"She seems to enjoy it." I nodded. 

"You seem to enjoy her mother," Tracy whispered. She broke right through the shop keeper, patron protocol and spoke like a friend. I supposed she was. I hadn't realized it before. I liked Tracy. Lying didn't seem right.

"Yes," I said. I looked at Amber helping Lizzy go through the patterns, feeding off her excitement. "as much as I fight it, I do." 

"She's very lucky," Tracy commented. She turned and walked away before I could respond. I wasn't anyone's luck. I wasn't even a good consolation prize. Tracy had no idea what she was saying. I smiled to myself. Only a friend would look past my failings. Frank, Gabby and Tracy. I guess I could add Lizzy to the list as well. Somehow, I had doubled the number of my friends in a couple of weeks. I wasn't sure where to place Amber. Friend, foe, it was so confusing. Lover, yes I would put her there. That kiss was definitely lover-like. It might have been an Oscar-worthy performance, but it felt...trustworthy. 

"Mark?" Amber called. She was almost laughing at me. I realized it was not the first time she called my name. "Lizzy wants you to help her pick one of these." Amber held up three different suncatcher patterns. A simple bird, a funky fish and Mickey Mouse. I pulled my head from my thoughts. 

"Well, we must keep Mickey," I said, stroking my chin like the thinking man, "heck, I can't decide. Let's get them all." Lizzy looked pleading at her mother. 

"Are you sure?" Amber asked with humor in her voice. 

"Yes," I announced, "and we must find glass for Mickey. I don't think I have a good black for him." Lizzy looked like it was Christmas. Her smile was as wonderful as her mother's. I was completely outnumbered. 

Lizzy insisted on carrying the glass to the car. It was well wrapped, but I fought the fear of it hitting the pavement the whole way. Lizzy put it in the car without incident, and Amber gave me a private laugh. She had seen the fear in my eyes. It had amused her. I have to admit, I liked her amused. Even if it was at my expense.

Lunch was way too comfortable. Lizzy spent most of the meal trying to coax a better description of soldering from me. Amber leaned into me more than she should, and less than I desired. My hand found hers under that table and I knew I had fully given up the battle. We all shared a slice of apple pie to end the meal. 

I had never filled a full grocery cart in my life. Of course, I had never had a child come with me. Somehow, Lizzy's desires overshadowed what little common sense I had left. If Amber wasn't reining her in, we would have filled two carts. I wasn't sure about the frozen pizza rolls. They looked more like cardboard than food. Lizzy insisted they were delicious. 

We loaded up our booty and headed back to the house. Amber's magic touch ran out and we had to turn off the radio. We talked about what was on Nickelodeon. A station I barely knew existed. It seemed to have kid comedies that Lizzy knew every nuance about. I was enjoying asking in-depth questions about characters I couldn't care less about. Her detailed explanations of their relationship was well beyond her years. I thought I was teasing with each question. She would just go into a deeper explanation. I came away impressed and also thought she spent way too much time in front of the TV. 

Amber put Lizzy in the tub as I began to unpack the groceries. I laughed to myself at all the crap we bought. It was actually kind of fun to pick things out by the colorful pictures instead of relying on past experience or healthiness. I pulled out a box I didn't remember putting into the cart. Ultra thin condoms. They supposedly felt more natural and increased male pleasure. A shiver ran down my spine when I felt a hand caress the back of my neck. 

"No matter what happens, I still love you," Amber whispered in my ear. There was nothing I could do. Nothing I could say that would quell the desire that awoke in me. I loved a woman I couldn't trust. It was wonderfully horrible. I turned into her and let her eyes suck me in. I was lost in her web and no longer desired to break away. Her lips were so wonderful, her tongue so much fun. The giggles she emitted where music to my ears. She pushed me lovingly away. 

"Let's get Lizzy to bed," she said, her smile promising everything, "then we'll see if two can fit on the couch." 

Dinner took way too long. Lizzy was way too awake. Amber mercilessly teased me when Lizzy's eyes were turned. Finally, I settled myself down and knew that Amber would be there even if Lizzy stayed up half the night. I decided on a little revenge. I pulled out a deck of cards and taught Lizzy crazy eights. I loved the surprise on Amber's face when I kept Lizzy up a little longer. Lizzy, of course, thought it wonderful. 

It was past eleven when Lizzy finally fell asleep. While Amber was getting her tucked in, I pushed the coffee table away from the couch and spread a quilt on the rug. I added a few more pillows, sheets and a blanket - it looked like a passable bed. The couch was way too cramped. I turned off the lights except a small one in the kitchen. 

"I thought you were going to keep her up all night," Amber joked as she came around the couch in a t-shirt and I hoped, nothing else. She smiled when she saw the makeshift bed. "That looks comfy."

"Best I can do on short notice," I said as I pulled back the blanket to welcome her in. She shimmied in beside me, making sure her legs found mine. She laughed when a tremor ran up my spine as her thigh caressed mine. How I missed that laugh. 

"Do you love me again?" Amber whispered. Now I laughed. 

"I never stopped," I replied, "even when you made it difficult." The humor left her face. Confusion replaced it and I found it concerning. I ran my fingers along her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Love was never the problem," I restated. She kissed me. Love was not a problem at all. 

Sex with a little girl sleeping in the next room is a challenge. There was a whole bunch of 'shushing' and muffled laughter. Luckily, we didn't need to worry about a squeaky bed. I forgot about the deceit and fully enjoyed being with Amber. It was so wonderful to be between her legs again, her desire feeding my own. And that laughter. We weren't just having sex, we were sharing fun. I decided it was worth all the lies. I knew I was an idiot and decided to live with my stupidity. 

The next two days were a slice of heaven. The bee ended up a little lopsided, the shapes not quite lining up. Lizzy thought it was perfect so I squinted my eyes and agreed. We hung it in the kitchen window next to her purple flower. She was hooked and wanted to start on a fish pattern immediately. I had visions of every window in the house covered in suncatchers. It wasn't an unpleasant thought. 

We went for walks, the three of us. Lizzy liked the woods after growing up in the desert. She had a few issues with the bugs, but got over that pretty quickly. Her favorite part was walking along the river, poking into the water with a stick. Once in awhile she would scare a frog whose leaping enthralled her. 

Amber continued to enthrall me. We were back to how we began. If you removed the rest of the world and our pasts, we were perfect for each other. I grounded her and she made me fly. Somewhere in the middle, a wonderful union emerged. I cherished it. 

My phone vibrated one afternoon, while we were having a picnic on the river. I looked at the caller ID. It was Frank. "It's the Wilkersons," I lied as I stood up, "I hope nothing happened to the window." I walked off, Amber unaware of my deceit. 

The call was confusing. I had suspected Amber hadn't given me the whole truth, but these lies were completely unexpected. I could almost understand her previous dishonesty. This I didn't understand at all. I walked for a moment after the call had ended. Frank held the opinion that Amber was insane. I wasn't sure if it was far from the truth. I placed another call, one I did not want to make. I had to do it. 

I returned to lunch as if nothing had happened. A confrontation in front of Lizzy would have made things worse. I watched Lizzy throwing little pieces of her sandwich into the river. There was a school of small fish fighting for the scraps. She had wormed her way into my care and now I worried about her. I loved her insane mother and, in turn, had begun to love her as well. She was bright, happy and loved glass. What more can anyone ask of a child? I wondered if Amber lied to her as well. They seemed to be comfortable with each other. Lizzy trusted her mother freely with no visible reservations. I wondered if she was somehow shielded from the lies. 

"Mark?" Amber called. It wasn't the first time. I shook off my thoughts and smiled. 

"Sorry, I was thinking." 

"Dreaming more like," Amber said, handing me the other half of my sandwich. She followed it with a quick kiss that I trusted. She loved me. I knew that much. "At least eat some of it, honey," Amber called to Lizzy. Lizzy took another bite and then began feeding the fish again. I liked it here, right now. I didn't want it to end. 

"I love you," I said out loud. Lizzy froze, smiling at me and her mother. Amber saw something in my eyes and knew my words had deeper meaning. There was no humor in the kiss, just love. I could feel her trepidation as our lips joined. I said too much. 

"Honey, can you move back for the water a little?" Amber asked. Lizzy scooted a foot away from the end of the dock. "Mark and I are going to take a little walk. We will be right back."

"Okay," Lizzy said and tossed more of her sandwich to the fish. The fish, bluegill I thought, were becoming active now. They would actually break out of the water to get to the pieces. Lizzy certainly found it entertaining.

Amber took my hand and we walked slowly away from the dock. Out of earshot. A tear ran down her cheek as we walked. She knew the call wasn't from the Wilkersons. 

"Do you want me to leave?" Amber asked me. She was looking at the trees, her eyes not wanting to find mine. I half knew why she did what she did. The rest must be her insanity. I stopped walking and pulled her to me. 

"Why did you tell me Pablo was dead?" I asked. My tone was hopefully loving. I watched her eyes fill. 

"You need to save me," Amber cried, "it's what you do." I pulled her into my arms and held her as she sobbed. I must admit, I liked the idea of saving her. She had that right. It just wasn't necessary. I must be bad at this loving thing if she thought saving her was a requirement. "You would have never let me back...after what I did."




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 11



"I called Pablo," I said, "he was as unpleasant as ever." Her sobs increased. "You gave him everything. He was kind of pissed I called. He thinks you're insane." So do a few other people, but there was no need to tack that on a list.

"I don't know where to go," Amber continued. She didn't understand me at all. She had some idea that I only desired her because I could play hero. I ignored her statements. She had to know what I knew.

"Pablo says he isn't Lizzy's real father," I continued, "does Lizzy know who her father is?" Amber's eyes went a little wild. I could see a mountain of pain behind them. 

"I can go back to the my mother's," Amber said, "I just need money for the train." I took her head softly in my hands and turned it toward me. She looked insane. Her eyes were unfocused and filled with panic.

"Slow down," I said. I lowered to the ground and brought her with me. I figured it would be easier to stop her from running if we were seated in the grass. "You see your daughter," I said, pointing at the dock. Lizzy was still busy throwing her sandwich to the fish. Amber took a deep breath and nodded. "Do you love her?" I asked. A strange question to ask a mother. 

"Yes," Amber replied. She looked at me like the question wasn't a strange one. 

"Do you love me?" 

"Yes," Amber answered. Quicker this time. 

"Good," I smiled, "I love you both so that makes things a little easier." Amber gave me a really confused look. I could have asked her if she loved herself, but I didn't want to hear the answer. It would be no different from my own. 

"Remember our first shower together?" I said, leaning back on my elbows, "the way we laughed when we played." Amber smiled as the memory came back to her. "I loved that," I continued, "our picnics, like the one today. They are worth more than gold to me." Amber was breathing slower as she watched me talk, "I want you, not your past. I don't want anymore lies and I certainly don't want to lie to you." Something clicked in her. 

"I don't really know Lizzy's real father," Amber said. I could see it was a painful subject. "I was drunk at a party and so was he. I wouldn't even know where to look for him if I knew his name." Her head hung down as shame clouded her face. "Pablo never told anyone Lizzy wasn't his."

"His loss, my gain," I said quickly.

"I'm not a good person," Amber said, leaning closer to me. 

"Neither am I," I said, "maybe two wrongs can make a right."

"I lied," Amber continued, "I can't go back to my mother's. I told Pablo I would never go back to Phoenix." I already knew that, but nodded for her attempt at the truth. 

"You want me to stay," Amber asked, "even if I don't need protecting?" I laughed. I shouldn't have, but it was so asinine. She started to lean away. I took her hands in mine and pulled her forward. 

"I want you to stay," I said honestly, "I want Lizzy to stay. I want to laugh with you and boy, do I want to play with you." Her tears were starting again, but a weak smile formed as well. I reached up and wiped the tears with my thumb. "Will you stay with me?" I asked. I took the kissing to mean yes. When she forced me all the way back, I assumed it was an emphatic yes. 

"Mark, do we have anymore bread?" Lizzy asked. We hadn't seen her approach, not that we were looking. Amber held back a laugh and let me up. 

"Are you going to give those fish all our food?" I asked. 

"They're still hungry," Lizzy answered as if it was obvious. 

"You're going to make them fat and lazy," I said nicely, "let them fend for themselves for the rest of the day and you can feed them again tomorrow." Unbelievably, she accepted it. "We have work to do. You need a bed and I need mine back. We have to find where the school is and get you registered." Lizzy's face brightened.

"Are we staying here?" Lizzy asked her mother. I think she moved a lot in her life.

"Yes we are," Amber said, looking at me. Lizzy's smile grew.

"I will probably make new friends in school," Lizzy said. I wasn't sure where she was going with this, but she rarely wasted her words. 

"Of course you will," I agreed. She was a nice girl. I was sure she would make many friends. I found out a second later that she set me up. 

"Then I will need bunk beds," she said, smiling as she ran toward the house. Amber looked at me with concern. 

"Are you sure you want us to stay?" Amber asked. 

"What would I do with the bunk beds if you left?" I loved her laugh. She was completely insane, but who else could love me.

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 12



Author's note: Chapter 12 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 12

You know your life is right when everyone in it is happy. That is not a difficult thing to accomplish when you don't have many people in your life. After nearly a year at school, Lizzy was fully settled in. I had lost my office and gained a happy girl. She negotiated more than bunk beds, and I truly feared her entering high school. We were the strangest and happiest family you would ever want to meet. That is how I saw us now. A family. We didn't seem to need the paperwork that satisfies most people. The school easily treated me like a father, even though I was listed as a legal guardian. They didn't care as long as Amber and I put in some time once in awhile.

Something broke in Amber and she began telling me everything. I had to get her to stop. Some things I was better off not knowing. It was just nice that trust was in full effect. Lizzy treated me like a father, but always called me Mark. It worked best that way. I wasn't exactly father material, but I wanted to be able to put my foot down if I thought she was doing something stupid. Luckily, she wasn't a stupid girl. 

We were a little on the doting side. I guess that comes from there only being one child. I could have made her ride the bus. Instead, we took turns driving her. It cut her trip down by fifteen minutes and gave us time to talk together without competing with Nickelodeon. Our life became a set of comfortable patterns. We would hit the town on the weekends and make a day of it. It always included to stop to see Tracy and lunch or dinner. I liked the routine and Lizzy needed it. Amber was simply in love with the family thing. From what I could piece together, her mother was not completely stable. She had moved Amber constantly from place to place when she was growing up. Things made more sense when Amber's history began to emerge. I thought it best that Lizzy didn't follow that pattern.

I was driving Lizzy home from school when she informed me her best friend wanted her to sleep over the coming weekend. I had bought Lizzy a phone, all the other kids had one, to shorten the distance between her and the friends she met at school. This particular friend, Melinda, was a bit on the chatty side. I felt she was teaching Lizzy to talk with no purpose. Entire text conversations with nothing but acronyms for the sake of using acronyms. I let it be. Amber said she had to find her own way with her friends. I guess it wasn't hurting me. Maybe I didn't like sharing one of my few friends. 

"So would it be okay?" Lizzy asked me. I could hear the apprehension in her voice. Yep, I didn't like the idea of her spending the weekend with someone else. Our routine would need to be altered. I thought it was a really bad idea.

"It's fine with me," I lied and lied well, "you'll have to check with your mother." I was hoping Amber would find fault with it. It hit me that if Lizzy was gone for the weekend, Amber and I wouldn't have to be so quiet. Lizzy did need a social life, after all. "We'll see if we can talk her into it," I added with vigor. I was horribly selfish. 

"Thank you," Lizzy announced, "I going to tell Melinda you said it was okay." Her fingers moved like lightning on her phone. 

"I'm sure your mom will want to talk to Melinda's mom," I added. Lizzy nodded and kept typing. I was smiling as I pulled down the drive. My thoughts were on the weekend. I didn't expect the two sedans parked in front of the house. "Visitors," I warned Lizzy. She looked up.

"Who's here?" Lizzy asked.

"I have no idea," I said. They looked like government vehicles. We parked off to the side since my usual spot was already taken. I headed toward the house as soon as Lizzy came around the car. For some reason, I felt it was important she be close. Two men, cheap suits, exited the house and Amber followed, in handcuffs.

"What is this about?" I called as I approached. Two more men exited the house. I held Lizzy back as the lead man produced a folded paper. 

"Warrant for the arrest of Samantha Donaldson," the man said, "I'm Agent Thorton, Drug Enforcement Agency." I knew the paper would be legit so I didn't touch it. Amber was falling apart at the sight of Lizzy. 

"Mom!" Lizzy called. I held her in front of me. 

"Where are you taking her?" I asked. 

"Stay with Mark, baby," Amber cried. Lizzy was shaking as she watched her mother be put in the backseat of the first car. 

"We have a warrant to search the premises," Agent Thorton continued. I handed him my keys, workshop key held out. 

"That's to the workshop," I said, trying to remain calm as I nodded to the garage, "lots of glass in there so be nice. Again, where are you taking her?" 

"DEA holding cell in St. Louis," Thorton said while taking the key, "Can I ask you to wait outside while we search?" I nodded. 

"There's a .45 in a locked file cabinet in the utility room," I continued, "key is on the chain. Permit is in my wallet. May we speak with Am.. Samantha?" He looked at me for a moment trying to judge if I was a risk. 

"From outside of the car," Thorton said, "she has been advised of her rights. No physical contact." I was surprised he was going to let me at all. Maybe my cooperation with the search was worth some tolerance. 

"Thank you," I said as I moved to the car. 

"Don't let them take Lizzy from you," Amber said quietly as I approached. 

"Where are you going?" Lizzy asked, panic rising in her voice. 

"I have to go away, baby" Amber said, tears flowing down her cheeks, "you stay with Mark. He will take care of you." 

"Don't say anything," I advised, "I'm going to send a lawyer to you. I will get you out of there as soon as I can." She looked at me and shook her head.

"They arrested Pablo," Amber said, her eyes finding the floor, "he's talking." I should have killed the bastard. 

"Say nothing," I said, "and don't give up hope. I will get you out of there." 

"Don't let them take her," Lizzy's tears matched her mother's. 

"It's okay, baby," Amber soothed poorly, "you listen to Mark." I did the only thing I could do. I pulled out my phone and called Frank. 

==========================

Amber had been gone two days when Frank got back to me. The DEA had nailed Pablo red-handed and he was talking for a lighter sentence. Others were doing the same. They had arrested Samantha on conspiracy charges. They were going to make an example of her. There was no hope for leniency from any quarter. The lawyer I had sent knew less than Frank, but agreed with the sentiment. He recommended she plead guilty and serve ten years. Bail was denied. Samantha's history proved she was a flight risk. 

Lizzy wouldn't stop crying. My heart was torn to shreds. Anger filled me. My country owed me. I decided to become very un-American. 

"We are going to get your mother back," I told Lizzy. Her red eyes ignored me as I turned on the computer and began typing. My memory was good, too good. They trained me that way. They should have taught me to forget. I remembered most of the names. Federal officials, targets and even some of the pilots. The dates, times and locations were etched in my skull. I was surprised how quickly it all came back. It took most of the night, but I emptied my brain into the computer. Then I printed. Seventy-eight pages of memories in neatly ordered lists sorted by date and time. Ten copies. I didn't have enough paper for an eleventh copy.

I encrypted and stored a couple of digital copies in two online drives just in case. I bound each paper copy with large rubber bands and put them into the same manila envelopes I ship patterns to customers for approval. 

"You ever been to Washington DC?" I asked Lizzy. She shook her head. "We need to take a trip. I'm afraid you're going to miss some school and your weekend with Melinda." 

"Will it help Mom?" she asked. 

"I hope so," I said. Either that or I'll be in prison myself. I had no idea what would happen to Lizzy in that case. I was waiting for a call from family services. I'm not sure they would let me keep her as it was. 

"I want to go then," Lizzy agreed. We packed and left the next morning. I stopped at Hamond's Country Store and spoke with Tom. He agreed to hold the packages for two weeks, then mail them if I hadn't returned to pick them up. I assured him it was a monumental conspiracy that would make the shooter on the grassy knoll look like a boy scout. He smiled and put the envelopes in the safe. Okay, I now had five friends and one lover. 

==========================

It is fairly difficult to find someone to talk to in the State Department. There were receptionists who would barely give me the time of day. People to talk to about going abroad for travel or a possible job. Not many people thought me credible since I had a ten-year-old girl in tow. I finally convinced a secretary for the Coordinator of International Information Programs that I needed to meet with someone. It was a place to start. 

They brought me into a room to placate me. I was a taxpayer after all. Lizzy and I shared some ice water as we waited. After about ten minutes, a young man with dusty blond hair entered with the idea that we needed a presentation of what their department does. It took me a few minutes to turn it around. I handed him the envelope filled with my memories and watched his face as he began skimming. 

"Ah," the blonde stammered, "I need to get someone else."

"I suspect you do," I said. He left quickly. I looked to Lizzy and smiled. "The ball is rolling now."

"Are they getting Mom?" she asked. 

"Not yet, sweetie," I said, "but hopefully soon." It took a few more hours of climbing up the chain of command. Each person reading a few pages before they realized it was above their pay grade. Lizzy was incredibly patient. By the afternoon, I was seated with the Deputy Secretary of State and two FBI agents. 

"What the hell is this?" Deputy Singer asked. She wore a pencil skirt suit, her face as starched as her blouse. She was waving my report at me. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, the government wasn't as righteous as she had assumed. 

"Language please," I said, smiling a Lizzy. Singer paled and then smiled at Lizzy. 

"Maybe the child should wait in another room," one of the FBI agents suggested. 

"She's not leaving my side," I said. Lizzy scooted her chair closer to me. "You recognize those addresses?" I asked Singer. I had printed off the addresses of six embassies representing the countries I was most active in. At the bottom of the list were the addresses to the New York Times and Sixty Minutes.

"This can't be true," Singer said, "we don't work this way." The State Department may not work that way, but the DEA does. Her pride in her country was weakening. I disliked being the cause of the sadness in her eyes. 

"I am sure the FBI now knows who I am," I said, "that's your first verification. If you cross reference the names and dates in that report, I think the relevance will become evident." I leaned back and watched them think. 

"You took an oath," one of the FBI agents pointed out. 

"Yes I did," I agreed, "but I was young and the DEA wasn't trying to put Lizzy's mom in prison at the time."

"You would do this to your country?" he continued. 

"Sorry, I love Amber," I said. Lizzy smiled at me. It reminded me of Amber's smile. I looked up at the Deputy Secretary. She quickly hid a brief smile. Her brain was digesting the international incident I was about to unleash. I could see the pain in her eyes. She didn't want the report to be true. 

"This is blackmail," Singer decided. 

"Yes," I agreed.

"How do we know you won't come back and demand more later?" Singer asked. It was a valid question. I hadn't thought much past getting Amber back. I wasn't sure I could reassure them of my sincerity. 

"Samantha and Lizzy, then my country," I said clearly, "I would die for them in that order." It was the best I could do. I truly loved America. I just loved Amber more. I wanted my family back. Singer was sizing me up. I could see she didn't trust me. I didn't trust me either. A redheaded man poked his head into the room and signaled for the Singer. She excused herself for a moment.

"It's people like you who weaken us," the taller FBI agent said with disgust. I looked at the Kool-Aid drinker and felt only pity. 

"Did you read that report?" I said, pointing at Singer's seat, "look at page 63. This isn't a perfect union. We make mistakes and I have been paying for that one for twenty years. I want my family back. This country owes me that." I could see it in his eyes. He hadn't read the report and was most likely told not to. Ignorance makes the Kool-Aid taste good. 

Lizzy was getting antsy. We hadn't eaten since breakfast. I wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. Singer poked her head back into the room.

"This is going to take a few minutes," she said. She looked at Lizzy for moment. "Agent Stiles, can you get see if you can get something for Ms. Donaldson to eat. She has been more than patient." Lizzy traded smiles with Singer. 

The short agent grunted and left. I suspect I was not to leave the room yet. Lizzy thanked the agent when he returned with a Hershey bar for her. I saw the beginning of a smile on the agent's face, but he forced his scowl back. Lizzy made short work of the candy. 

"Well, Mr. Winslow," Singer said, when she finally returned, "I have been authorized to negotiate with you." The tall FBI agent rolled his eyes. He was thinking handcuffs. "How do we know all copies of this will be destroyed?" 

"I guess that would be a trust issue between us," I said. I wasn't a very experienced blackmailer. Singer laughed. 

"How many were created?" Singer asked. 

"Ten printed copies, two encrypted digital copies and the original on my computer," I replied. Trust had to start somewhere. She nodded as she took notes.

"The other printed copies, where are they?" Singer asked. This time I laughed. I was a lousy blackmailer, but I wasn't stupid. Singer smiled. She had tried. 

"What do you want?" Singer asked. I had thought I had already made that clear. I added something more ironclad since she was allowing me to rephrase.

"Full pardon for Samantha," I said, "and no retribution. We all go our separate ways and pretend this never happened." Singer smiled and shook her head. The pardon was out. I hate negotiations. 

"Suspended sentence," Singer countered, "if this report or anything that looks like it sees the light of day, you and Samantha will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. There will be no leniency. You will both spend your last days in prison." Harsh, to say the least. Then again, I was a blackmailer. 

"No additional retribution?" I asked, "IRS audits, surveillance?" Singer smiled.

"I would like to say yes," Singer said, "but after reading this report, I can only say that nothing overt will occur." I nodded. Of course they would keep their eye on us. I could live with that. 

"I can agree with that," I said. It was not all that I hoped, but much more than we deserved. I was demanding they release a drug lord. They had no interest in how happy she made me. 

"Is Mom coming home?" Lizzy asked. I was about to answer, but Singer jumped in. 

"Yes, dear, your mother is coming home," Singer seemed pleased to say. Causing children to smile made your day a little better. Singer needed better after me. I had damaged her opinion of her country. 

They released Amber, but the DEA wasn't very nice about it. Essentially, they sent her out the door in downtown St. Louis. They were not pleased. Amber wasn't even sure what happened. One minute she was being interrogated and then the next, they dropped all the charges. Lizzy and I were headed home when we got the call from her. She had to borrow a phone.

"I'm in St. Louis," Amber said, "they let me go." 

"Is that Mom?" Lizzy shouted from the passenger seat. I handed Lizzy the phone. There was no way she would let me talk until she said her piece. 

"Mark made them let you go," Lizzy was talking a mile a minute, "they said we would go to prison forever if he didn't stop his letters. They don't like him much, but they did what he said. Where are you?" Lizzy took a breath, "St. Louis? Aren't you coming home? The lady said you were coming home." More breathing. I was trying not to laugh at the conversation. Lizzy was so happy "We have to go to pick her up," Lizzy told me. Then she proceeded to tell her mother everything she saw on our trip. 

Lizzy needed to hear her mother's voice. The arrest was pretty traumatic for her and Amber's voice seemed to heal the pain. I let them talk. I headed toward St. Louis and waited for Lizzy to run out of things to say. It took awhile. 

"You took her to DC?" Amber asked. 

"I wasn't going to leave her at home," I replied, "it was educational. She got to meet the Deputy Secretary of State."

"I love you," Amber said. 

"I love you too," I said.

"He does," Lizzy shouted, "he told the deputy lady he did." I heard Amber laughing, though it could have been crying. Hard to tell over the phone. 

"When can you get here?" Amber asked. I think she was crying. I heard it in her voice. 

"If I drive all night, I could be there early tomorrow morning." I replied. I wanted the car to move faster. 

"No," Amber said, "I want you two here alive. Stop for the night and make sure she sleeps."

"Yes, dear," I said like an old married man. 

"Whatever you did," Amber whispered, "I can never repay you." Yes she could. It came out without warning. I wanted a lock. I didn't need it - I just wanted it.

"Then you will have to marry me," I said. Lizzy's sucked in her breath, smiling. There was silence on the other end. I thought I had lost her. "Amber?"

"Okay," Amber replied. It was barely audible. I wasn't sure she wanted to. 

"You...you don't have to," I backtracked. More silence. I thought I just screwed everything up. 

"No," Amber cried, "I mean yes." There was more silence. "I can't talk and cry at the same time. The answer is yes, I'll marry you. Just get here." The line went dead. I was engaged. 

"Did she say yes?" Lizzy asked, worry in her eyes. 

"She did," I said with a big smile. 

"The you will be my dad," Lizzy said. Responsibility hit like a freight train. I hadn't thought of that. I doubted I could be a good father. I was going to drive through the night and risk Lizzy's life. What kind of father does that? I mean, I could make sure she's fed and buy bunk beds and things. But how do you know if you do it right? I could screw it up, and she could come out all mean or something. "I like being your daughter, " Lizzy continued. I looked over at her. Maybe she shouldn't be in the front seat. Aren't there rules about that? There must be a manual or something I could read. "Are you going to have a big wedding, you know, where I can be a bridesmaid for Mom?" Lizzy asked. 

"I haven't thought that far," I said, "I don't think I thought it out at all."

"I can help," Lizzy offered, "you have to get a ring. I know want Mom likes." Her face brightened, "We should shop for a ring." It was all moving so fast. It seemed so right when I said it. I wasn't thinking wedding and daughter when I asked. I was thinking Amber and me. Lizzy needed someone who knew what he was doing. I could fail her in so many ways. 

"What if I am not a good dad?" I asked. 

"You already are," Lizzy laughed, "you just need a ring." I was floored by her words. They came out without thought. She didn't have any doubts, except for the ring. I smiled at the road. I may suck as a father, but Lizzy would make it work. 

"We need to find a place to eat and a hotel," I said, "I promised your mom you would get some sleep tonight."




The Perfect Pieces Ch. 12



"Then we'll get Mom tomorrow?" Lizzy asked. 

"Yes...darn!", I said. I was proud I didn't swear. Good practice. "Your mom forgot to tell me where she is staying." I pulled out my phone and called back the last number. 

"You forgot to ask," Lizzy corrected. So she had flighty dad. She would learn to live with it. 

"Thorton," the voice answered. It was the DEA agent who arrested Amber.

"Agent, aah, Samantha called from your phone," I sputtered. I was foolishly expecting Amber to answer, "This is Mark Winslow. Samantha didn't tell me where she was staying." 

"Congratulations, Mr. Winslow. I understand you're getting married," Thorton responded. 

"Yes. Thanks," I replied. He seemed awfully happy for someone who just lost a collar. 

"I put Samantha up at Hyatt downtown," he continued, "I would appreciate it if you switch the room to your card tomorrow."

"Of course," I said, "and thank you. I really appreciate you helping us out."

"Anytime," he said, "she has my number if there are any problems." I was surprised by his gracious help. Politeness I understood. Above and beyond was very welcome. I ended the call with another set of thank yous that sounded feeble to my ear. 

I had a burger and Lizzy chicken nuggets. I found her even more charming now that she thought of me as her father. It was a strange transition, friend to father. I deserved none of the credit, but I felt obliged to be proud of her. She was basically well-mannered, usually happy and definitely smart. I could walk with my head high and non-verbally claim it was my doing. I liked her age. It fit her. I could talk to her and do things you couldn't do with a smaller child. Things like stained glass. 

We got a room at a roadside motel and Lizzy was asleep within minutes of her head hitting the pillow. I watched her breathe from the other bed. I couldn't believe I intended to become responsible for her. There was so much of Amber in her. All the good parts and none of the history. I closed my eyes. I would have to try hard not kill the first boy who broke her heart. 

Amber was waiting in the lobby of the hotel. She swept up Lizzy first, then kissed me like there was no one else around. "You meant it?" she asked. She still doubted me. 

"It would make me so happy," I answered. Her lips were so soft. I thought she meant to undress me right there. Lizzy was tugging on my shirt and rolling her eyes. I think we were embarrassing her. Well, at least I would be good at that part of being a father. 

It took awhile for the hotel to reverse the charges on Thorton's card and have it charged to mine. They had already pushed the charge through since it was past eleven. "I can't believe Thorton did this for you," I told Amber. 

"I think I gave him a promotion when he lent me his phone," Amber said smiling, "the rest of them wouldn't give me the time of day."

"A promotion?" 

"He happens to know of a YMCA locker with a million dollars of cartel heroin," Amber said, "I suspect it will be quite a feather in his cap." Amber's face went serious, "That's the last of it Mark. Nothing of my past is left." 

"I just burnt my bridges as well," I said, "good riddance, I say." I loved her smile. It was mine now. "Let's go home," I said, gathering my girls to the car. They were permanent pieces of my life now. Perfect pieces. 

Continued...



The Perfect Pieces Ch. 13



Author's note: Chapter 13 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.

The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 13

Deputy Secretary of State Singer was having an especially difficult day. Four meetings and nothing resolved, problems piled on her desk and a sinking feeling she was accomplishing nothing of value in her life. The world was no safer since she had joined the State Department twenty years ago. She could no longer find the drive that had driven her up the ranks. Cynicism had quelled her desire. 

The meeting with the Iranian ambassador's secretary was especially painful. He was a hardliner and thought the administration was insulting him by providing a female contact. It was all she could do not to slap some sense into him. Half the damn world was women and the idiot thought them unworthy of making decisions. He spent most of the meeting refusing to speak English, though he had attended Stanford, and dropping veiled insults to her gender. She let her anger get the best of her when he demanded water. There was a pitcher right in front of him and he expected her to pour it. He didn't expect it any more. He left in a huff without his glass of water. 

She had been teetering on resigning for weeks. Leave the world to its own devices and concentrate on her own damaged life. Her marriage had suffered greatly. It was still hanging on, more due to Byron, her husband. Infinitely patient, he would tolerate her necessary absences and sooth her when things went sour. Lately, she had been less than cordial with him. The weight of the job and its seemingly endless problems made her cranky and Byron was forced to absorb it. 

When did the job become more important than Byron? Strangely, it was when she began to lose faith. The less she trusted her work, the more important it became. A weird inverse relationship had developed and she was being sucked into its vortex. She felt wasted. Useless. When was the last time she ravished Byron for the sake of love? She had trouble liking herself anymore. 

There was a knock on the door that woke her from her thoughts. More problems she thought. 

"Come in," she called out. Sam entered, his red hair hiding his age as usual. It gave him a whimsical look that belied his attention to detail. He was holding an opened postal package. Everything was opened nowadays. The anthrax scares had seen to that. 

"More problems?" she asked, indicating the package. Sam smiled, something rare on his face. He was usually overly serious. 

"Something not unpleasant, I think," Sam said. He placed the package on her desk and uncharacteristically stayed for her reaction. She pushed aside the protective wrapping paper to reveal a stained glass white bird and a stained glass red rose bloom. She pulled them out, turning them around. They were well done, with small loops at the top to allow them to be hung. 

"There's a note," Sam said, indicating the package. He was happily anxious. She reached in and pulled out a handwritten note.

I deserve none of the freedom or love you have given me, so I share it with you. I will do my best to see that your trust is not wasted. 

Samantha Amber Winslow

P.S. Lizzy made the rose. She says hi. 

Singer held up the freedom dove and the lovely rose again. A smiled crossed her lips. "You're right Sam, not unpleasant at all." It was not what she expected. She had second guessed her dealings with Mark Winslow over and over. One of her failings she had thought. She was sure he brought the child to toy with her emotions and enhance his bargaining power. She allowed it to happen, giving him what he wanted more for the child's sake. He had weakened her opinion of her country and of herself. She had thought it a low point. Now, maybe not so low. Maybe she was exactly where she needed to be. The world needed someone who thought with more than guns and hate. 

She took the suncatchers and held them up to the natural light from the window. The light broke through the glass, changed colors and brought a smile to her lips. She mounted them on the upper window, using the groove of the bottom window to hold them in place. "Freedom and Love," she said, "what do you think of them Sam?"

Sam liked the expression on Singer's face. He had feared was she losing hope and he, his mentor. The gift was especially timely. "For this office," Sam said, his smiling growing, "they are the perfect pieces."

The End.