I hadn’t even had time to find my true calling after the acting disaster and I was being forced out? This was all my mother’s doing! I’d always been a disappointment to her. Not everyone was cut out to get an MBA like her! And she was one to talk! She didn’t even use her education! What a waste. No, she and Dad had that phony restaurant which they supposedly ran. How many people can afford a Maserati, and a home in the Upper East Side on income from a greasy spoon? It was a hobby at best.
Why did I need a job anyway? I was going to inherit their millions, some day. I should be free to pursue my own interests... like them. This was bullshit... that’s what it was. She was being totally unreasonable.
I got up and went into the kitchen for my phone. It was almost four o’clock. I only had two and a half hours to come up with a plan—something I could sell them to buy me some time to figure this out. I hit the speed dial for Cerise.
Before it connected, I hung up. She wouldn’t have any ideas which would help, who was I kidding? I headed back to my bedroom like a condemned man walking the last mile.
I let out a sigh. I needed to look presentable. The yoga pants and sweatshirt weren’t going to cut it with Mom. I rifled in my closet and found a decent silk top and jeans which were clean. I topped off my look with a conservative black wool sweater. Not my favorite, but it would have to do. I dug in my purse for any money for cab fare. I’d ride almost to the house and then walk a few blocks. Let her think I’d walked the whole way. Maybe she’d feel guilty about that one! And so she should!
I sniffed and yanked the top from the hanger.
***
The brownstone home was a sturdy sentinel standing shoulder to shoulder with its contemporaries. How many times had I bounced up the six steps and gone through that set of oak doors? The windows on each side, a cross hatch of panes topped with a stained-glass panel peered down at me, the lights inside casting a warm glow. And higher, the set on the right-hand side on the second floor where my room was, now darkly curtained.
I gave a couple of raps and then used my key to enter, leaving the freedom of the street behind. Taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, I called, “Mom? Dad? I’m here.” I was right on time and slightly sweaty from the walk, a fact I hoped wouldn’t go unnoticed.
My mother was the first to step into the hallway near the door, her feet soundless on the marble floor. Blue eyes, like hard sapphires pierced me, peering from an ivory, smooth complexion, her ruby lips a tight unsmiling line. Her arms folded over her chest and she paused. She was a rock of granite standing straight in her Armani top and tailored pants.
My heart slowed somewhat when I saw Dad appear behind her, still in his golf shirt. He towered over her five-foot frame, with an athletic ease but she was the real power in that marriage. He managed a smile and stepped forward to kiss my forehead.
“Hi Keira. Thanks for coming.”
I looked up at him through my eyelashes and gave a short nod. As if I had a choice on being there. “Hi Daddy.” This was the term I used when I was really in Dutch and needed him on my side. When he looped his arm over my shoulder, drawing me in and steering me down the hallway, it showed some kind of promise.
“We’ll have dinner in a little while. First, we need to talk.” Mom spun on her heels and strode into the living room.
This was a bad sign right from the start. Normally, she’d lead the way into the kitchen, puttering and making me something to eat or drink. The fact we were meeting in the living room, like I was some kind of sales person or something, wasn’t good. It would take all of my persuasive skills to turn her around this time.
They were already seated side by side on the Chippendale sofa. I sat in one of the two matching chairs facing them. The battle lines were drawn.
“Keira.”
My face was a mask, waiting for my mother’s opening salvo. I kept my hands clasped together on my lap, so they wouldn’t notice the slight tremble there.
“It seems academic life isn’t for you.” Her eyes flashed to Dad’s and she continued. “Have you got anything to say for yourself?”
I kept my face impassive. “I think Mr. Morris was being unfair. I actually liked acting when I got a chance in class.” It wasn’t my best comeback but I wanted to see where this was heading.
“Well, you see, if you actually attended class the way you were supposed to, then perhaps you could have developed that talent.” Mom leaned forward and laced her fingers together on her knees.
“Maybe another school... maybe one where I could take evening classes? I could get a job.” Already, I could see it. I’d work in a boutique and get discounts on clothes and cosmetics. Evening classes could work. At least I wouldn’t have to get up at ungodly hours.
“To get a job, you need to show up, Keira—something that’s not really in your forte. As far as evening classes... how well did that work out for you in the photography course? Or even in the social worker classes? The only job you’ve ever had was in the dry cleaning store and you couldn’t even keep that!” A line formed between her manicured eyebrows and her nostrils flared. Yep, Mom was pissed.
“One personal call on my phone and the old bat running the place had a conniption. She just didn’t—”
“Keira!” Dad hunched forward and slapped the table in front of me.
I jerked back, staring at him with wide eyes. He never lost his temper. I’d never seen him do anything like that before.
“Your mother and I are concerned for you. Believe it or not, we don’t enjoy this any more than you do! But, something’s got to be done. You’re like a leaf floating in the breeze without purpose or direction. You’re twenty-three and you’ve never held a job, never completed any course except high school and you squeaked by on that. It’s not brains. You’ve got plenty of that! You just don’t have discipline.” He sighed, but what was worse was the look he shot Mom. He looked defeated.
Mom leaned forward and placed her hand on my knee. A film of tears covered her eyes. “We have a plan for you. You’re going to visit your grandmother in Canada.”
I looked at Dad. “When did Grandma move to Canada?”
“No,” Dad said, “not Grandma.”
“It’s my mother. “ Mom spoke softly
“Your mother? But isn’t she dead?” I gave my head a shake. “You told me she was dead. You said she passed away years ago...”
Mom looked away. “I lied.”
THREE
“THIS ISN’T VERY FUNNY, Mom. What kind of stupid joke is this?”
Dad was the first to break the silence. “We’re serious, Keira.”
I stared at my mother as if seeing her for the first time. In all the years I’d known this woman, there’d never been any talk of her mother. When I’d asked about her parents, she’d led me to believe they were dead, and that it was a painful subject she’d rather not talk about. And now, the truth was out.
“Wait a minute. This is the first I hear about my grandmother and you expect me to just up and leave, go to another country to live with a woman I never even knew existed! Are you on drugs?” My heart was going ninety miles an hour and it was all I could do to just sit there. I wanted to throw something at her—at them, for springing this on me now, of all times, when my life was in tatters!
“Keira! That’ll be enough. Don’t talk to your mother with that tone of voice.” He put his arm around Mom and pulled her close. “This is hard on her as well.”
A tear trickled from the corner of her eyes and she sniffed. “Look, I’m sorry I never told you about your grandmother. There were reasons, which I’m not going to get into with you right now.” She patted Dad’s knee and continued, “She lives in Kingston, a small city just north of the border. She sent me a telegram and—”
“What the hell is a telegram?”
Ignoring me, she sighed. “She needs someone to assist her. It’s her health.” Her hands rose to swipe the tears which welled in her eyes.
Part of me wanted to reach out to comfo
rt her but I was shell-shocked from all this. “But why don’t you go? It’s your mother, after all!”
“She specifically asked for you, Keira.”
I continued staring at my mother. “How does she even know about me? I mean, I’ve never even met her. She never once visited or sent a card on my birthday. Why me, right out of the blue?”
Mom was openly crying now which only made me more confused. She was taking this revelation pretty hard. Wait a minute. I’m the one who had been lied to for twenty-three years. I should be the one crying! What the hell was going on here?
While I stared at her, Dad got up and strode over to the liquor cabinet. “Anyone else need a drink?” The clink of the bottle against the glass followed.
Mom blew her nose and then pocketed the used tissue before taking the brandy which Dad extended to her before he sat back down. “She knows all about you, Keira.”
“What? How?”
Mom’s face took on a new shade of guilt and she looked at Dad. “I told her all about you.”
“When?”
Mom smiled wanly. “On my seasonal shopping trips with my girlfriends.”
I closed my eyes and held out my hand. “Wait. You mean you and your bunch of friends who go on shopping trips four times a year? Your ‘Four Seasons’ gang?” Now I was starting to get mad. “You and your girlfriends would go and visit your mother? But you wouldn’t take me?” I stared at her. “You know, that’s pretty heinous.”
“Take it easy, Keira,” Dad said. He leaned forward on the couch and put a hand on my knee. “There never was a ‘Four Seasons’ club. It was a ruse to enable your mom to get out for a few days every few months without raising your suspicion.”
Now my anger faded under this new surprise and my mouth hung open. “No ‘Four Seasons’ club?”
“That’s right.”
“No shopping trips to Chicago.”
“That’s right.”
I looked over at Mom. “You never went to LA and Rodeo Drive.”
She nodded silently.
I looked over from my mother to my father and back again dumbly as it sunk in. “For all those years?” I said quietly.
Mom’s voice was a whisper. “Yes.”
“You lied to me? FOR ALL THOSE YEARS?” My hands went to my head and I scrunched my hair in my fingers. My mother had led a double life, not even bothering to let me know about my grandmother! And Dad had known all about it! But why? Why keep this from me? I had a right to know.
“You didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, I would have liked to meet her? Why did she never come here? You said yourself, it’s just north of the border, not half way around the world, for God’s sake!” Dad hadn’t bothered to get me a drink but I needed one. I got up and went over to the cabinet and poured a stiff one.
“She had her reasons. That’s all I’m going to say. You’ll find out more when you meet her.” My mother took a long swallow of her drink, eyeing me over the rim of her glass. She had collected herself and was once again all business. Every blond-tipped hair on her head was perfectly coiffed. The casual bangles on her wrist tinkled below the cuff of her top. It was all so cut and dried, her pronouncement, just like her everything about her.
“I’m not sure I’m going.” I wandered back to the chair, being careful to not spill the drink on her gleaming floors. “I mean, she didn’t bother to try to contact me before this and now that she’s ill, she wants to get to know me? That’s cold.”
“Keira—she’s not well.” Mom’s composure faltered again and her chin quivered. She’s very, very old and she’s asking for you now.” She looked over at Dad and some silent message passed between them and they both nodded and faced me again.
“So I’m supposed to just pack up and go... to Canada and freeze to death and be her nursemaid?”
“Keira, it’s June!”
“It’s Canada!”
Now they both started laughing at me, and that got me even madder. “I’ve been there! When we went skiing at that Mt. Tremblant place! That’s in Canada! It was freezing! And the snow was like really deep!”
“That was a ski resort! There’s always deep snow! And it was February!” She wiped her eyes again, but this time from laughing. “The weather’s just like here for the most part.”
Mom was laughing. At me. Oooh! I folded my arms. “I don’t know anything about taking care of old people. Doesn’t sound like something I’d want to do, taking care of someone I don’t know.”
“Oh? I would think you’d jump at the chance. This is not only a lifeline for her, but it’s one for you as well.” Mom’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, peering at me.
“A lifeline? Nursing an old woman who never cared enough to even meet me?” I shook my head and snorted.
Dad leaned forward and held up his hand. “Hold on, Keira. It’s not that simple. And, have you considered your other options?” His mouth pulled to the side and he looked at me with sad eyes. “There aren’t any. You don’t have a job. Don’t have money. You don’t even have a place to live after the end of the month—which is three days from now.”
My mouth fell along with my stomach. “What? I can’t stay here until I figure this out?”
He shook his head and my mother sighed. “Nope. I need the keys to the townhouse back. If you don’t agree to help your grandmother, you’re on your own.”
This time, it was my eyes that filled with tears. How could they do this to me? My whole world had slipped off its axis.
FOUR
THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS PASSED IN A HORRID NIGHTMARE. My apartment was packed up and cleaned out and now consisted of bulging boxes in the basement of the townhouse. ‘The last supper’ was a solemn affair with none of us terribly talkative. I was still fuming over the trip north the next morning and my parents were probably feeling a little guilty about this whole affair. At least I hoped they were.
It was Mom who drove me to the airport. That was no surprise as Dad didn’t do well with emotional goodbyes. The streets flew by as she handled the Maserati like a race-car driver. It was probably futile but I had to give it one more shot.
“Mom, I think you’d be better to go see Grandmother and take care of her. I mean, you know her, whereas I’m a total stranger. Considering her age, maybe that would be easier on her. I can look after Dad and put out some resumes to find a job while you’re gone.” We were only five minutes out from LaGuardia and time was slipping away too quickly. I looked out the car window at the city skyline and traffic, already missing them. What would greet me in Kingston? It couldn’t be anything like this.
She chuckled. “Nice try, Keira, but you’re going. She specifically asked for you.” She flipped on her turn signal and entered the merge lane heading to the airport.
“But what’s she like? Is she going to be a cranky fusspot who’s in full-blown dementia? God, she’s over ninety. What will we talk about?” I could picture it now, me carrying bedpans and watching her drool soup from the corner of her mouth. Gross.
She smiled and glanced over at me. “My mother was... I mean has always been one of the smartest women I’ve ever met. She’s sweet but she can be stubborn. I remember once, we were staying at a hotel in Chicago. She took it into her head that she wanted to hear the blues singer playing in a club just down the street. We were late getting there and the place was packed. I wanted to just go back to the room and call it a night. We’d shopped all day and had a big dinner, but she insisted.”
Haunted Hideout: Paranormal Suspense (The Haunted Ones Book 1) Page 18