A Four Leaf Clover

14. Lucky Flowers

Callan

Followed by the brief words of my father, we sat down for dinner. I couldn't eat. I couldn't imagine eating right now. I felt unsteady and at any moment I would come crashing down. I knew that if I just didn't speak, didn't even look at my father, then I would be fine.
The only thing keeping me stable was my thoughts of Amber. I could feel her large eyes follow me occasionally. It distracted me from thinking of my father.
She sat opposite of me. Quiet. My mother and Percy spoke often with the Woods. Conversation flowed and it was easy to just drift away.
I only became aware again when I noticed my father had stay silent. Watching the entertainment fold out in front of him. He had a habit of observing and I found it difficult to read him as his eyes uncomfortably shifted around.
But, I couldn't constrain my urge to look at him. His shadowed eyes were narrowed, unmoving, fixated on something. I followed his gaze to of all people, Amber.
I noticed her shift. How uncomfortable she looked. She too had drifted away during bits of the diner but now she looked uncomfortable. Terrified almost. I was terrified too, but angry.
My father and the girl that loathed me.
Mr.Wood told my father her name. Hearing my father say her name back to her sounded wrong. It felt as if he didn't deserve to say her name. He didn't deserve to say my name either even though it seemed he never did. I felt my throat closing being reminded of his actions towards me.
I tried to focus on something else. Anything else. I looked down and peered at my hands. Noticing the creases and lines in my fingers.
Time passed and Mrs.Wood called my name, asking about football. I had quit it. My father's eyes that somehow managed to appear everywhere at once, watched me criticizing every movement. I was again surrounded, hidden behind my glass wall with no escape. Observed like a zoo animal.
I stayed silent.
My mother answered for me. Later on I mumbled out brief answers to her questions until Mrs.Wood and my mother came to the consensus that Amber and I should spend time together.
I anxiously looked up, suddenly needing to know her reaction. I assumed annoyance, hatred even. But she just looked shocked and nervous staring back at me.
My mother asked if I would be willing to spend time with Amber. She stared at me expectantly. Percy did too, I could feel it.
My eyes flickered to my hands again while words flowed out of my mouth. They instinctively had been spoken.
"Of course mother."
I had obeyed her wish.
I don't know why. I don't even know why I then looked at my father. When I did, he started at her.
Amber.
He told me to take her on a walk after dinner. But he didn't notice me. Only her.
I agreed of course. There was no way I could say anything different.
My eyes were on my father, my father on Amber, and Amber on mine. I then turned to her briefly.
Our eyes locked.
It meant nothing. It was nothing. I could tell. There was no other explanation for her annoyed tone when I earlier spoke and her constant glares. But it's okay, I'm not very fond of her either.

Amber

The adults, even including Percy, who looks like he is only 18, went to the Fille's bar lounge. That was the hint that it was time for Callan to walk me around their garden. He rose and walked up to me.
We say nothing. Moving next to each other to the door.
Callan opens the door for me then follows me out. He then strides in front of me, glancing at me before speaking.
"Follow me."
The moonlight shines down on his darkened blonde hair and I take in his attire once again. The suit is so different than the casual clothes I had seen him in earlier this day. That's when all the questions I have for him flow into my mind.
Low music hums through the outdoor speakers as I follow him around. Old music. Etta James trickles through the garden giving it life.
Callan stops in front of an array of roses. All white roses. He steps up and touches the petal of a rose. Grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket, he bends and twists the stem until it snaps.
His eyes, brown with just a slight glisten of green, shine bright. He steps forward. A small space now is between us.
I can smell the rose in his hand and him. Him. I didn't know whether to keep staring or to back away. He extends his hand.
"For you, Wood."
I grasp the rose, the maroon handkerchief still around it to stop the thorns from sinking into skin. I almost roll my eyes at the nickname.
Lowly I mumble, staring at the green,
"It's Amber."
For the first time all night he smiles. Mischievously, but a true smile I think.
His hands retreat behind his back and he continues to walk.
We pass a large tree and then another.
More rows of flowers appear until I recognize the shape and color of a flower hanging on a low tree.
It is the same flower that blossoms on the Wood's tree in their front courtyard. It is the same flower my father had always asked our gardeners to plant. I reach down and smell their sweet aroma. It reminds me of home. My true home.
"We call those our lucky flower's." Callan says walking closer.
My heart palpates. I turned to Callan.
"Interesting name. I had those same flowers at my old house."
"That's not the only thing we seem to have in common Wood." His voice wad questioning and almost accusing.
I turn around and meet his gaze. I feel defensive. Voice stern I respond,
"What else do we have in common, Callan?"
His eyes flicker down and my eyes narrow.
"Never mind."
"No what is it?" I demand my voice rising.
"I need to know Callan. I need to know why you lied to Pamela earlier...about how we met. You drove me home. Why did you lie about it?"
I see him swallow looking nervous before he smirks, and shakes his head lightly chuckling.
"So it seems you have questions for me like I have some for you."
"It seems so." My words are quick.
"Why do you have that necklace?" His voice is cold. "Where did you get it? Why do you wear it? I just need to make sure of something, alright?" His hand rubs his forehead and I just watch in bewilderment.
"No, that cannot be your answer. What's so special about my necklace? It's just a clover. What's so special about it?"
What does he know?
He pauses. Thinking.
"The clover, that specific clover you wear...means something. It's almost like a crest."
A memory floods back into my brain. The day my father left there was mumbled screaming. My mother tore off a pair of earrings my father had given her. The pendants of clovers crumbling under her hand as she smashes them to bits. "I don't want this. I don't want it anymore. I don't want them." My mother screams as she destroys the jewelry and I watch. My father has already gone though. Long ago left.
"What kind of crest? What does it stand for?" I question.
"Control." His voice is even.
"What?"
I choke out. All I think of is the gifts my father had anointed my mother and I. The clover jewelry adorning our bodies.
He holds up his hand. An iridescent pendent glimmers . The clover shining bright in the form of a ring, rests on his pointer finger. His eyes flicker to the one around my neck. Suggesting that us both having the symbol meant...something.
"I-I.." I stutter. He waits for an answer but I don't know what to give. I can only say who it is from.
"It was gift. A gift yes, from my father."
His brows furrow.
I cannot keep thinking about him. It hurts. It hurts too much. It is too much. It's over whelming and suffocating. There is no more room for anything else in my mind.
"My ring too was a gift from my father." He clutches his ring while he speaks. He seems so far off now.
I brush past him.
"I need to go." Desperately.
"Wait.."
I start to run.

Callan

The moment I mention the pendant she looks sick. It seems like the topic is sensitive but I need to know.
"It was a gift. A gift yes, from my dad."
I am stunned. Confused.
"My ring too was a gift from my father."
I need to ask her more but she runs. Her dress shines in the moonlight as she swishes and glides away from me. For a moment, I only watch her. Mesmerized, I watch as she escapes.
Then I come to my senses.
"Wait.."
I run after her. I follow her as she runs through the garden. Leaving the blush lucky flowers, passing the trees and roses. She heads for the gate back to the Wood's house.
She drops the rose. The petals cascading as they hit the ground. The gate door opens and she vanishes.
My running slows into a complete stop. I peer at the rose on the ground. I lean down to take it in my hand. The petals have been soaked with small dots of wetness along with a single drop of blood.