Mother of My Son

Mother of My Son

College student Amber Swansen gives birth alone. In desperation, she abandons the newborn, buries her secret, and attempts to get on with her life. No matter how far she runs, she can't escape the guilt. Years later and still haunted by her past, Amber meets Beth Dilinger. Friendship blossoms between the two women, but Beth's son is a constant, painful reminder to Amber of the child she abandoned. When heartache hits, causing Amber to grapple with the answers to life's deeper questions, Beth stands by her side. Yet just when peace seems to be within Amber's grasp, the truth of her past and the parentage of Beth's son comes to light and threatens to shatter not only their worlds, but the life of the teenager they both love. Mother of My Son By Rachel Allord Pelican Ventures, LLC Copyright © 2012 Rachel Allord All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-61116-266-0 CHAPTER 1 June 3, 1994 The bundled towel in Amber's arms no longer stirred. Even the soft mewling had stopped. So it couldn't be real, after all. Amber fixed her gaze on the dumpster across the street and then glanced back at her silent, brick apartment building. Dizzy, she peered at the dumpster once again and took a step forward. The full moon hung above her like a watchful eye, illuminating the metal bin that seemed to waver like water, like the sloshing peppermint Schnapps she'd downed in desperation hours ago. A sudden gust of wind swept through her hair. She clutched the towel to her chest and stepped off the curb into the street, the blacktop cool and jagged beneath her bare feet. As if powered by something outside of herself, she took a step forward and then another. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. The wind picked up. She broke into a run. Her bare feet slapped against the asphalt, a deafening sound in the otherwise quiet night. A blast of pain shot through her insides as she reached the back lot of On the House, a small shabby bar beneath a neon sign. She glimpsed a cardboard box next to the dumpster, overflowing with broken down cartons and paper. Hastily, she lowered the bundle into the box and straightened. She peered at her empty hands, then at the unmoving towel, her heartbeat rapid firing in her chest She waited and watched. Nothing. No movement. No sound. No heartbeat anymore, probably. The headlights from a passing car flashed over the side of the bar, jolting her with panic. She turned and ran, sprinted back to her apartment, breathless and dizzy. A fleeting sense of horror washed over her. Who was this girl running in the darkness? Something inside of her pleaded for her to stop. Snap out of it. Wake up. Undo. Yet the urgings receded into the fog of her mind. She staggered down the common hall of her apartment, a trickle of blood snaking down her thigh inside her sweat pants. A shower. That's what she needed — a long hot shower to wash away the horror of the night, torrents of water to obliterate the thing that couldn't have happened. She watched her hand turn the doorknob to her apartment, a hand that seemed disconnected to the rest of her, and stepped over the threshold. The trance shattered. "Where were you?" Robin was standing in the kitchen with an open jar of peanut butter and a spoon. Amber gripped the edge of the counter and closed her eyes, willing the figure away. When she opened them, her roommate stood waiting. "I thought you were at Josh's for the night," Amber said. Robin excavated a glob of peanut butter. "We had a fight. I just got home, and I'm too ticked off to sleep." She stuck the spoon in her mouth, pulled it out clean, and gave Amber the once over. "What's wrong with you? You look awful." The room took off in a spin. Amber turned and made her way to the bathroom, raking her hand against the wall for balance. Either she was going to be sick or pass out. Robin trailed her. "What were you doing outside? It's three o'clock in the morning." Her body pricked with sweat, Amber stumbled into the bathroom and knelt before the toilet. "Oh," Robin said. "You're drunk." She disappeared down the hall. Depleted, Amber wiped her mouth across the sleeve of her sweatshirt and plunked down on the floor. Moments later, Robin reappeared. "Whose party?" Elbows propped on her knees, Amber held her head with her hands. "No party." Robin leaned in the doorway and crossed her arms over her chest. Her dark eyebrows knit together in scrutiny. "Something's wrong." "Don't feel good. Just leave me alone." Amber found a ponytail holder on the floor and bound her hair loosely at the base of her neck. Suddenly, Robin gasped. Amber followed her roommate's gaze to the bathtub and saw the streaks of red. Robin's eyes grew as wide as a marionette's. "Amber, what's going on? Why is there blood in the bathtub?" "Just go. Just leave me alone." She hung her head in her hands. "What happened here tonight?" "Nothing. It's taken care of." Robin was silent for so long Amber finally looked up. Her roommate seemed drained of color. "What