Precious Amber (The Abducted Book 1) - James Fuller

Precious Amber (The Abducted Book 1) by James Fuller

Book excerpt

The plastic, yellow teacups rested perfectly on the faded pink, chipped, floral plates. They were strategically placed around the small, white fold-out table, allowing room for the two present guests, their pretty host, and an empty seat that eagerly awaited the arrival of the final visitor, who would be along, hopefully shortly.

The old oak tree's shadow near the backyard fence shaded them from the mid-afternoon sun and had almost reached the small garden shed. When it got there, the fourth member of the tea party would arrive, like always on Friday, almost like clockwork.

"It won't be long now, Ms. Bear," Amber said, trying to sound as refined as she could, straightening out the blue napkins once more, though they had not moved from the last three times she had done so. Everything needed to be perfect; he had an eye for detail, and his praise was always full of pride. She liked that; it made her feel special.

"No, the tea won't get too cold, Ms. Bear," Amber stated firmly but friendly to the stuffed polka dot bear to her left. "Our guest will be here soon; traffic is always bad at this time of day. You know this. And if the tea does get cold, we can always make more." Glancing down at the empty cookie plate, she sighed. Mother had said she would bring some if she could find any in the cupboards.

Amber glanced at her white- and yellow-painted house; that had been a while ago; she must have forgotten or could not find any. Mother had been acting weird the last few weeks, forgetting small things while off in her own little world most of the day, humming strange tunes as she went about her daily chores.

Amber sniffled past the crestfallen feeling. It would not be the first time they had had to do that, and it wouldn't be the last, she was sure. They would just have to pretend there were cookies this time.

"You are sure quiet this afternoon Mrs. Potter." She addressed the button-eyed doll she had gotten on her fourth birthday on her right. The doll's yellow- and blue-striped dress had been ripped and repaired several times by her mother's skilled hands. The doll's imperfections gave it personality her father had told her, so she loved it even more instead of asking for a new one. He had told her it was a person's imperfections that made them who they were, made them real.

Amber listened intently as her doll explained her silence this afternoon. "I am sorry to hear your husband still isn't back from his safari hunting trip in Africa. I am sure he will be back any day now, safe and sound, with grand stories to tell you of his wonderful adventures fighting wild beasts. He will likely even bring you back a grand gift, maybe some pretty jewelry. I know how much you want a new set of earrings to go with your beautiful dress. I'm more than sure he would have remembered that too."

The sound of a vehicle slowly driving up pulled her attention from her conversation. She stood on her tippy toes excitedly to see over the small bushes to the front of the house and driveway. It was a silver car, and she was sure it was the same one she had seen not ten minutes before. With a pout on her face, she sat back down to wait, smoothing out her polka-dot sundress again.

"It will be a little longer, ladies; I promise."

***

Mrs. Rose checked on the plump roast in the oven, happy to see it would be finished by the time her husband arrived home. It was a special dinner tonight, for even more wonderous and special news. She touched her stomach again and smiled. Soon after years of trying, their family would be complete, just as they had planned it so long ago. Life would be perfectly perfect.

Glancing out the large front bay window to the driveway, she heard a car pull up. The silver car drove by the front of the house slowly, then sped away, revealing the sold sign on the house across the street. Alfred Tealock had sold his house quickly this summer, having decided to retire from the post office a few years early. They would miss him, he had been such a kind old man, but after the death of his wife Lisa half a year before, the memories must have been just too much for him.

Evelyn wished she had gotten to know Mrs. Tealock better; she seemed to have been a lovely lady. Quiet and reserved, but friendly enough the few times she could remember talking to the woman. Though thinking about it, Mrs. Rose didn't think she ever saw the woman when Mr. Tealock wasn't around. She shrugged; it was a different time for them. They were near twice her and her husband's age and raised in a different style of marital conduct. It was now the eighties, not the fifties; things were so different.

Mrs. Rose beamed again at seeing the sign. The realtor had told her another family with a daughter near Amber's age had bought the place and would be moving in at the end of the month. It would be good to have more children in the neighborhood that were six or seven. She decided to do some baking for them as a welcoming when they finally moved in.

Her mother had always told her, "Making new neighbors feel welcome was the key to making lasting friendships, and the best way to do that is with food." She hoped they would be nice, friendly people. Evelyn loved entertaining and couldn't wait to have another family they could become friends with.

Returning to the kitchen, she looked out the window to see Amber waiting patiently for her father around the little tea table as she did every Friday afternoon. It would be good to have more kids around; Amber needed more friends to play with when she wasn't in school. She touched her tummy again, smiling, and returned to preparing dinner. Everything had to be perfect tonight, just like the news she would share.

Finally, the sound she had been waiting for, a car pulling into the driveway caused her nearly to squeal in excitement. She forced herself to calm down, though it took much effort. She did not want to give anything away until they were all seated around the table, ready to eat. She smoothed back her curly blonde hair, straightened her floral apron, and went to greet her husband at the door as she always did when he arrived home. He always told her how it warmed his heart each day to open the door and be greeted by her beautiful smile.

The anticipation of waiting for him was almost too much for her, and she just prayed she could keep her calm and not give herself away yet.

Mr. Rose entered the house, his black and white striped tie already loose around his neck, his grey suit jacket folded over his arm. It was too warm out to wear if he did not have to outside the office.

"Richard, you're home!" Mrs. Rose beamed, kissing his cheek, and taking his coat to hang in the closet for him.

Richard put his briefcase down by the wooden shoe rack and smiled at his dazzling wife. "Something smells good, Evelyn."

She blushed bashfully, waving a hand at him. "Just something I threw together last minute," she lied, not wanting him to think too hard about it until the time was right. "How was work today?"

"Long," he sighed, clearly exhausted, "and not over yet."

"Oh, what do you mean?"

"I just have to make a quick phone call to a client to ensure they got the paperwork and know how to fill it out correctly, so it will be on my desk Monday morning," he explained, checking his watch. "I should do that now before it gets too late."

Evelyn frowned. "Can't it wait until after? You have another important client waiting for you outside."