Amber Brown Is Green with Envy (11 page)

My father and I are sitting at the diner that we used to go to before he moved into the Marshall house.

He took me there so that we can have some privacy to talk.

I am ordering. “I would like a ham and cheese on white bread, please….. no tomato. Mayo on the ham side, mustard on the cheese side. Coleslaw in a separate dish. A Vanilla Coke, two ice cubes.”

The waitress smiles and looks at my father. “This is a girl who knows what she wants.”

I know what I want for lunch.…I wish I knew where I want to live.

My father nods. “Sometimes that’s good. Sometimes it’s not.”

I glare at my father.

We both know that he is not talking about my lunch order.

As for my lunch order, mayo just tastes
better on the ham side….. mustard on the cheese side….. and I just like squishy white bread….. and the liquid from the coleslaw can leak on the sandwich and make it yucky….. and too many ice cubes change the taste of the soda….. everyone knows that.

My father orders the cheeseburger deluxe and a cup of coffee.

The waitress leaves and we just sit there, saying nothing.

I am not going to be the one who talks first.

He’s the one who called me for this special meeting.

It’s not even one of the days that we’ve worked out with the custody agreement.

I don’t have to be here.

I don’t want to be here.

But I said yes.

Mom said that I should tell him how I feel.

Mom said that I should tell him why I did what I did.

I just sit here thinking.

So what if I called Mom on the Sunday of the weekend that I was supposed to be with Dad.

So what if I asked her to come right over and pick me up.

It was noon, and my dad wasn’t even awake yet.

He came in at about 4:00 in the morning.

I heard him talking to Brenda and Polly when he paid them for the Ambersitting.

The girls went upstairs to Polly’s house.

I pretended that I was asleep when he came into the room to check on me.

In the morning, I woke up, went to the kitchen, got cereal and turned on cartoons.

My father never came out of his room.

I looked in to make sure that he was there.

He was there, snoring.

I took a shower, got dressed and waited.

He was still asleep.

At noon, I called my mother.

I was crying.

She said that she would come right over.

I packed my bags and waited for her outside in the driveway.

She was there in fifteen minutes.

I can depend on my mom.

She put my bags into the trunk, and I got into the car.

Mom said that I should write a note telling my father where I was.

I started to cry and said that I wouldn’t go back in there.

She drove the car out of the driveway and parked on the street.

Sitting there, we talked about what was upsetting me.

My mom looked really angry when I told her what happened.

She took out her cell phone and called my dad and left a message on his machine saying that I was with her.

My father has been calling for several days now, but I wouldn’t talk to him.

The waitress delivers our food.

I squish the bread.

“Amber,” he says, “talk to me.”

I glare at him and sneer.

What does he want me to say? That I think he is a jerk for making promises and not keeping them….. for going on a last-minute date with a stranger when he was supposed to be with me?

I say nothing.

“You are being very immature.” He frowns.

“I am immature,” I finally say. “I’m nine years old…. what’s your excuse?”

He looks furious.

I am surprised that I have just said that to him, but I am very glad…also a little scared.

He sounds furious. “If I had said something like that to my father, I would have been punished.”

“It’s the truth,” I say. “I should not be punished for telling the truth.”

Then I say, “How could you have gone out like that when you said that we were going to do something?”

“I have a right to my own life.” He makes a face. “Do you know how much I’ve given up for you?”

I feel like he’s hit me.

He gets quiet for a minute and then says, “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s
just that you have to understand…. I’m not living in New York City because I want to be closer to you. I can’t socialize when you are with me.”

For a minute I feel guilty, and then I think about it. “I didn’t ask you to do that…and Mom never complains about taking care of me….. and I know that there are times that she and Max are not together because of me….. and they don’t think I’m so much trouble. If you feel that way, just go get an apartment in New York. Just don’t expect me to go there. And I don’t care how much you go to court….. I’ll tell them I hate you!”

What happens next is something I don’t expect.

My father cries.

It’s very weird to see him cry.

He does it quietly, but I know that he is crying.

“Amber,” he says softly, “I’m sorry that I
hurt your feelings. I love you more than anything else in the world.”

I just sit there, not really believing him.

“I’m a jerk,” he says.

That I do believe. “Yes, you are.”

He doesn’t yell. “I’ll try to be better. Give me another chance. You are my daughter. I love you.”

Another decision to make….. do I give him another chance….. do I tell him that I never want to see him again?

I’m only in the fourth grade. Why do I have to make such big decisions…where to live, whether to deal with my dad.

He says, “Next week…. please stay at the house. We’ll make up a set of rules and regulations.”

“Not for me,” I say. “I already do what I’m supposed to.”

“Like the time you got your ears pierced after you were told not to?” He smiles.

Parents remember some things too well.

I don’t give in, though. “I’m not the one who has to change this time.”

He sighs. “Okay. You’re right.”

I am feeling a little calmer now.

I’m not sure that I believe him, but I would like to.

“I promise not to be a jerk anymore,” he says. “I’ll try not to be a jerk.”

I decide to give him one more chance.

He may be a jerk…but he is my jerk…he is my father.