CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The following evening, Claire stepped out of her car and paused on the sidewalk in front of the house she’d lived in her entire life. The lights were on, which didn’t mean anything at all. Her family didn’t exactly make any real effort to conserve electricity. There had been many times that Claire had come home to find the house empty and all the lights burning bright. It was a Sunday night. Typically, this wasn’t a big night for her mother or sister. Almost any other night they could be expected to be out with friends or on dates. Tonight, they’d most likely be home, though. Claire found herself sincerely hoping they would be. She’d been psyching herself up for this for days, knowing it wasn’t going to be easy. Now that the time was finally here, she was anxious. But she also hoped to get it over with all at once. She wasn’t sure she could stand to face down her mother or Diane alone, only to be forced to go through the ordeal with the other one again sometime later.
She reached out and rested a hand on the roof of her car. Her gaze went to her hand, to the immaculate manicure and the fingernails that were so well done they looked perfectly natural. She backed away from the car and focused on her reflection in the driver’s window. Her hair was loose, hanging around her shoulders in a thick cloud. She wore the blue top and the fringed scarf. Looking at herself, she realized suddenly how profoundly different she was from the woman she’d been only three weeks ago. She was anxious, yes, but she wasn’t shaking. Her shoulders were squared, her head held high. Sometime over the past days she’d learned to be at ease with who she was, both the old and the new. She was still Claire Abernathy, elementary school teacher. She was still in love with her job and the children she taught. She was still looking forward to getting back into the classroom when school began in a few weeks. And she was still the quiet sibling of Diane and daughter of Margaret. They were still two of the most beautiful women in the world. None of that was going to ever change. But how she allowed herself to relate to her mother and sister and how she allowed them to treat her was never going to be the same again after tonight. She was done being their maid and accountant and mother and object of ridicule. It was long past time she stood up for herself, and as she met her gaze in the window’s reflection, she finally realized that she was more than capable of saying all the things that needed to be said.
She drew a slow breath, then opened the trunk of her car and pulled out her luggage. She carried it to the house and let herself in. On the table in the hall was a stack of mail that she instantly knew had been gathering there since she’d left three weeks ago. She flipped through it and picked up a number of bills, mostly credit cards belonging to her mother and sister. She knew more than one of them would be past due by the time a check reached them. She felt anger grip her, but forced it to stay down. She sorted the mail, then lifted her luggage and carried it upstairs to her bedroom. She deposited the suitcases on the bed, then turned around and walked back downstairs, pausing in the foyer to gather the bills she’d set aside before going in search of her mother and sister.
She passed through the kitchen and felt her annoyance climb another notch as she caught sight of the dirty dishes piled up in the sink. Of course they wouldn’t do the dishes. Not when they knew she’d be home to do them tonight. There was laundry in the utility room and a sack of garbage they’d obviously been too lazy to carry out to the curb for pickup. By the time she found her mother and sister in the living room, she was more than over the anxiety she’d felt outside. They were sitting on the couch, watching a nighttime drama while they sipped wine and painted each other’s toenails. Claire stood in the doorway, watching the pair of blonde heads as they bent toward each other. As always, she felt the impact of their beauty, but this time she felt no envy. They were beautiful, yes, but they were also cold and calculating and wholly self-absorbed. They’d been given too much by too many. She was as much to blame for what they were as her father had been. They’d both been awed by the pair of lovely women. They’d both catered to their every whim. Claire took a breath and stepped into the room. It was past time things began to change.
“I’m home.”
Her sister’s head lifted first. She turned, an expression on her face that Claire knew meant there was a snide comment on the tip of her tongue. It never found voice, though. The moment her gaze found Claire, her eyes widened and her mouth actually dropped open. She stared in open shock as her eyes traveled from Claire’s head to her pink tipped toes and back up again. Her mother began speaking without so much as glancing in her direction.
“Claire, could you be a dear and go make us one of your chocolate tortes? I’ve been positively dying for one for days!”
Claire felt her jaw clench. A torte. She’d been gone three weeks, been nearly raped and killed and spent twenty-four hours in a hospital and then another eight in an office giving a statement about every word Garret Palmer had ever said to her, and now her mother wanted her to make a torte. After she cleaned up the kitchen, of course. And did the laundry. And paid the bills and God only knew what else. She narrowed her gaze as she forced her jaw to unclench.
“No, I will not make you a torte.”
Her mother’s head snapped up, a frown on her face that froze the moment she caught sight of her oldest daughter. Claire took another step into the room. “I will not make a torte. I will not clean up the mess you two left in the kitchen. I will not do your laundry or your bills or anything else you have spent your entire adult lives avoiding. I have cooked and cleaned for you since I was twelve years old. I have been your gopher, your secretary, your accountant and the butt of most of your jokes. No longer. It’s well past time you began to take care of your own lives and let me live mine.”
Her mother was clearly at a loss as to what to think, much less to say. Diane, as usual, recovered first. She narrowed her gaze on Claire an instant before she jumped to her feet. Claire, who’d always been taller than Diane, now had a couple more inches on her because of the heels of her sandals. It put Diane at a distinct disadvantage physically, though she’d never noticed it in the past because Claire had always cowed before her emotionally. Claire watched as her sister shot her a scathing glare.
“How dare you speak to us like that! Just because you got some new clothes and a haircut doesn’t mean you can start acting like you own the place.”
Claire knew Diane would expect her to back up, to back down. She always had in the past. Tonight, though, she leaned forward instead, until her sister’s eyes widened again in surprise.
“As a matter of fact, I do own it, remember? You didn’t want the hassle of dealing with details like property taxes and insurance or utility bills. So you sold your share to me.” She shifted her gaze to encompass her mother as well. “Both of you.”
She saw the shock on their faces as they realized she’d just made a not so subtle threat. Her mother’s mouth dropped open, but she didn’t speak. Claire wasn’t sure she could at the moment. She cut her eyes back to Diane.
“Now, sit down and shut your mouth, Diane. There are a few things we’re going to get straight.”
Diane’s face darkened in outrage. She drew the breath to speak, but Claire gave her a look that cut her off before she’d even begun. It was the look she gave her students when she wanted to bring them under control without saying a word. It always worked then, just as it did now. Diane’s mouth snapped closed with an audible click of her teeth, and she sank onto the couch like a deflated balloon. Claire nodded.
“That’s the smartest thing I’ve seen you do in years.” She backed away from them, so she could focus on them both at once. “Okay, first of all, as you can see, there have been a few changes over the past weeks. Believe me when I tell you they go far beyond the physical. As you said, Diane, a new haircut and some new clothes don’t mean a thing. The changes that matter all happened inside me. Starting with the fact that I finally figured out I don’t have to measure up to anyone’s standards but my own. I don’t have to fit your idea of beauty or grace or
glamour. I don’t have to share your tastes or style or penchant for going through men like they’re disposable tissues. I am perfectly fine as I am. Secondly, I deserve better than to be treated like some pathetic joke by my own family. I’ve allowed it in the past, but I won’t in the future. You will respect me, or you will not speak to me at all. And finally, I am finished being at your beck and call. Starting right now, you’re on your own. You will do your own laundry and dishes. You will run your own errands. You will pay your own bills. If you need help, I will show you how to do it, but I will never, ever do it for you again. As for living in this house, you’re more than welcome to continue to do so. I will be moving out as soon as I can find another place to live. Next year, I’ll be looking for a job somewhere else. I suggest you learn how to take care of yourselves before then. Because once I leave, I won’t be coming back for more than an occasional visit.”
She took a step toward them and dropped the stack of bills she had clutched in her hand onto the couch between the pair of stunned women. “My advice is that you begin by paying these bills. Some of them are overdue, and I know how much you would both hate to lose your credit cards.”
Claire gave them both stern looks, then nodded. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the past couple of days have been more than a little tense. I’m going to go take a long, hot bath, then climb into bed and catch up on all the sleep I lost last night in the hospital. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
She turned and walked to the door, then paused to turn back to them once more. “By the way, if you expect to have anything to eat in the morning I’d suggest you make sure I have clean dishes to cook with.”
She walked out of the room then, leaving her mother and sister staring after her in shocked silence. Their mouths still hung open like a pair of beached fish. Claire made it all the way to her room before the laughter began. As she surrendered to it, she felt an incredible weight lift off her shoulders, a weight she hadn’t even realized was smothering her so completely until she felt it release her at last. The sensation brought her laughter to a halt as she sank onto the edge of her bed. She’d known she was unhappy, that her mother and sister were slowly pushing her farther and farther down. But she’d never realized how profound the sense of freedom would be when she finally put an end to it all. She sat there, momentarily stunned herself. Then she felt the smile curve across her lips. A moment later the laughter began again. Free. Finally, after so many years of pain and grief, she was free.
She was in the tub when she finally let go of the bubble of euphoria that had engulfed her. She was free, yes, but she wasn’t completely happy. Sitting in the hot water, feeling it caress her skin, she found herself suddenly immersed in a flood of longing too intense to express. Unbidden, memories of the night she’d shared with Colin came upon her. Memories of his touch, his taste. She felt her body respond as if the water had suddenly become his hands. Heat pooled between her legs. Her breasts grew heavy as the nipples pebbled. And just as quickly as that, she lost every trace of peace she’d gained by standing up to her mother and sister.
She missed Colin. She hated him. She loved him. She wanted, at that moment, to scramble to a telephone and call the number she’d been given in case she needed to contact the people who’d taken her statement that morning. The people Colin worked for. She wanted to demand to see him. She wanted to face him and ask him to tell her that what they’d shared had been more than a lie. She ached to hear him tell her that it had touched him as deeply as it had touched her. She could almost weep with the hunger to feel his touch again, to slip into his arms and lose herself in his kiss and the power of his body. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the hunger and the need and the desperation to pass. Colin didn’t want her. If the night they’d shared had meant anything at all to him, he would have come to her in the hospital. He would have found a way to tell her that it hadn’t been an act on his part. He hadn’t come to see her, though, hadn’t even called. She opened her eyes and sighed before pushing herself to her feet. The bath had lost its heat, and she no longer found any pleasure in soaking anyway. Suddenly she just felt exhausted. Bone weary and emotionally wrung out. She wrapped a towel around herself, combed out her hair, and crossed the hall to her bedroom. Minutes later she climbed into bed, wet hair and all, and drifted off into a deep sleep that was blessedly free of dreams.
It was two months later before Claire saw anything on the news about the major arrests that had been made by US and Mexican officials. Another month before it was revealed that the arrests had been part of a massive, joint operation that had successfully shut down a major pipeline of illegal drugs traveling through Mexico and into the United States and guns going the opposite direction. About the beginning of December, there was a report on the death of a government witness in the case. Garret Palmer was found swinging from a rope made of bed sheets in the cell where he was expected to spend the rest of his life. Claire worried that Garret’s death would somehow make the cases against all the other participants weaker, but the statement released by the federal prosecutor insisted that Garret had been nothing more than a very small part of the overall operation. The others who’d been arrested would go to trial, and they would be convicted.
Through it all, Claire couldn’t seem to stop herself from studying the television screen with something close to morbid concentration during each and every shot of the federal prosecutor or any of the particulars involved in the case. She knew she was looking for Colin, just as she knew she’d never see him. He worked undercover. He would never have his face shown on national television. But she kept watching, kept looking, just in case. And she kept being disappointed.
She’d had her own apartment since barely a week after she’d come home from the cruise. Her mother and sister had done just about everything they could to stop her from leaving. They’d cajoled and begged and even shed a few tears. Claire hadn’t been swayed in the least. She just packed her things and walked out the door. Five months later, they were finally beginning to accept the fact that she wasn’t coming back. She’d helped them through a number of crises during those first weeks, but they’d eventually learned how to do all the little day-to-day things most people figured out while they were still in high school. Things had been incredibly tense at first. Claire had wondered if she would have to spend the rest of her life living like she had no family at all. Her mother barely spoke to her, and Diane wouldn’t even look at her for several weeks. Claire knew they were trying to wait her out, to force her to feel guilty. When they realized it wasn’t going to work, things began to ease. For all their faults, neither her mother nor sister had the ability to maintain a grudge for long. Eventually, after they’d gotten over their temper tantrums, Claire had given them the gifts she’d bought while on vacation. They loved the scarves. They both wore them frequently, though they also grumbled that they’d have loved to have one like hers. All in all, things with her family were working out far better than she’d ever anticipated.
The first teacher workday at school had been another anxious moment for her. She’d run into a few colleagues around town. Everyone who knew her had demonstrated utter amazement at the transformation she’d undergone. She knew that everyone at the school would have heard about the changes. It made her feel a bit conspicuous as she got out of her car that morning. She could practically feel everyone’s eyes glued to her. It turned out to be less uncomfortable for her than she’d expected, though. In fact, by the end of that first day, Claire could only laugh at the effect her changes had wrought on the people she worked with. Women who’d barely paid her the least bit of attention before now eyed her with everything from awe to suspicion. Those she considered friends were overjoyed that she’d finally broken out of her shell. And the men were absolutely comedic. It reminded her of the way the men who’d shared her dinner table on the ship had scrambled to pull out her chair that first night after she’d had the makeover. Of course, that memory brought back all the less comfortable ones. She staun
chly refused to let it bring her down, though. The school year was beginning, and it was her time to really shine.
By the time Christmas rolled around, she was well and truly comfortable in her own skin. She’d learned to relax and just be herself. She’d even learned to flirt a little, though she kept that sort of thing strictly lighthearted because she never wanted to lead any man to believe there could be anything more to it. She’d dated a few times, going out to dinner and movies and even a couple of plays in the city. She was a bit like a baby just learning about life, eager to experience all it had to offer. There was never anything serious, though. Her heart wouldn’t allow her to even consider it. Every time any man got close enough to make her think he might be entertaining the idea of kissing her, she backed away. She couldn’t make herself risk the disappointment she feared would come when he couldn’t erase the memory of Colin from her mind and soul.
She’d gotten over her anger. There was no point in carrying it around forever. Colin had done what he thought he needed to do. For whatever reason, he’d taken her to bed. Ultimately, his reasons didn’t matter. She’d known all along that there couldn’t be anything more to it, and she’d sworn she wouldn’t regret it later. So she refused to mourn like it was some catastrophic mistake. She’d chosen to share herself with him, knowing what it could cost her, and she would live with her choice. Eventually, she hoped, she would come to a place where she could remember Colin with the fond appreciation of a person remembering a particularly poignant love affair. The pain would fade, as would the longing, and she’d go on with her life. She’d find a man and get married and have children of her own. At least, that’s what she prayed for every day. So far, though, that prayer wasn’t getting any appreciable answer.
Her First Vacation Page 20