Long Snows Moon

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Long Snows Moon Page 16

by Stacey Darlington


  “That’s excellent advice,” Analise said.

  Devon looked around the room taking in the furnishings. “I love the whole Victorian theme. It’s fabulous. The red velvet chairs and matching curtains. The sconces, the chandelier, and this four-poster bed designed for a queen.”

  “Yes, it was.” Claire sat on bed and took Analise’s hand.

  “I will leave you alone.” Devon collected her walking stick and exited the room feeling like a warrior with a spear. She heard their voices follow her down the hall.

  “Who in the hell was that?” Claire asked.

  Analise responded, “I don’t know, but I really like her.”

  Claire grinned. “If I didn’t know better I’d swear Devon has finally gotten laid.”

  “Claire!” Analise giggled.

  If they only knew.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Their Tarpons Springs estate could have been a bed and breakfast, each room had a different theme. She stepped from the Victorian era into the Wild West. The room was the size of a tavern. It had saloon style doors leading to the bathroom. The end tables were wagon wheels. The bar stools were made from saddles. They had a six-shooter in a holster draped over a ladder-back chair. It looked like Wild Bill Cody was staying for the night.

  Devon plucked a cowboy hat from a rack with many and peeked at herself in the mirror. She slipped the gun from the holster and pretended to draw on Moon.

  “There’s only one sheriff in town.”

  Moon barked in disapproval and took the gun from her. She put it back in the holster and barked at the wall on the opposite side of the room.

  “And her name is Long Snows Moon, the long snout of the law.”

  She went to see why Moon was making a fuss.

  “Yee haw,” Devon muttered, as she gaped at the painting. “Jameson’s painting of Shawnodese the coyote.”

  Claire joined her. Devon pointed to the painting, mute.

  “I thought it would make you feel at home,” Claire smiled.

  “You had it shipped here? You did that for me?” Devon asked.

  “Yes, mean, bitchy, controlling me,” Claire said.

  “Those words were meant with all due respect.”

  Moon bounded on the bed, feeling at home.

  “I suppose not much respect is due,” Claire conceded.

  “That’s not true. You are the most powerful and capable person I know. You deserve mountains of respect. I know how much you love my mother and I respect that deeply.”

  “I am a fool for waiting,” Claire sighed. She wilted onto the bed.

  “How long have you been together?”

  “We fell in love thirty three years ago,” Claire told her.

  “Wow.”

  “Yes, wow. We were sophomores in high school. Being a lesbian back then was not the same as it is now. Oh, it was hip and chic if you had money, but for a couple of girls from the bad part of town with parents who didn’t have the means or desire to protect them, it was a dead end.”

  “What difference does having money make?”

  “I stupidly thought it would buy us acceptance. I was just seventeen, what did I know? I wanted to avoid prejudice. It made sense then and for a long time after. Only now do I realize what a colossal waste of time it all was.”

  “I thought you met Mom in college.”

  Claire shook her head.

  “So you met in high school?” Devon asked. She flopped onto a small settee at the foot of the bed. “Tell me the details. I am dying to know. But not too many, if you know what I mean.”

  Claire joined her on the settee and told her everything, each detail of their Plan.

  They talked into the early part of the morning, as Moon slept on the bed behind them. In these hours, they chatted as two grown women and in doing so began to realign a relationship disjointed for a long time.

  For once, Claire was open and honest. Devon felt close enough to tell her about Jameson. When the clock downstairs related the four o’clock hour, Claire gave Devon a hug and got up to leave.

  “I can’t believe what you’ve gone through, getting lost in the woods, losing Moon, and I’m baffled you were rescued by the little Indian girl. After our trip, all you talked about was Jameson and the wolf dogs, the wolf dogs and Jameson. And that arrowhead, I couldn’t get you to take it off to save my life.”

  Devon pulled down the collar of her shirt to show Claire.

  Claire touched the arrowhead. “It’s more beautiful than I remembered. Life is like a wheel sometimes. We come back to where we started.”

  “What an interesting thing for you to say. I brought some special tea for mom.”

  She handed it to Claire. “We are not allowed to drink it, it’s only for her.”

  “I’ll make it for her.”

  “Claire, you seem different, more natural. You seem buoyant and easy-going.”

  Claire glanced out the window. The white duck decorated the pond like a cherry on a chocolate sundae.

  “I learned to float now I need to fly.”

  “What?”

  “Hmmm?” Claire blinked as if coming out of a reverie. “I’m speaking gibberish. I am tired, long day. Good night.”

  Good night, Mother Duck.

  * * * *

  When Devon got up the next morning, she found them outside in the gazebo. Moon sat between them gnawing on a bagel.

  “Good morning, Honey,” Analise sang. “Come join us for breakfast.”

  “Let me get a quick shower first, I’ll be right back.”

  Devon went upstairs to get her phone.

  Lauren Martine answered, “Elk’s Pass Sundries!”

  “Hi, it’s Devon. Is Jameson available?”

  “Hi, Honey. No, she’s been out in the woods since you left. I do not expect she’ll be back for a while. She asked me to mind the store for about a week.”

  “A week? Oh, just tell her I called when you see her,” Devon muttered, unable to hide her disappointment.

  “I’ll tell her, Darlin’, I’ll sure tell her when I see her. You take good care, now, and my blessings to your mother.”

  “Thank you. Bye.” Devon flung the phone on the bed. What could Jameson do for a week in the woods? She stared at the painting of Shawnodese. Peace pervaded her. She smiled when she remembered the passion that moved the artist’s hand.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Devon joined them in the backyard with her hair still wet from her shower. She noticed Claire was barefoot and had her feet propped on the gazebo railing.

  “What do you have planned for the day?” Devon asked. “What is there to do around here?”

  “I have something I want to do,” Analise announced.

  “What’s that?” Claire asked.

  “Well,” Analise leaned in close. “I want to drive by my parents’ house and throw eggs at it!”

  “That’s absurd,” Claire scoffed.

  Devon slathered a bagel with cream cheese and helped herself to a piece of smoked salmon. “I say if it makes her feel better, why not?”

  “Are you serious, Analise?”

  “Deadly,” Analise said. Her eyes gleamed with defiance Devon never before noticed.

  Claire gazed at the pond. “I want to dip my toes in the water.”

  “Go ahead,” Analise said.

  “Go ahead, what?” Claire asked.

  “Dip your toes in the water.”

  Claire looked at her, perplexed. “Why would I do that? Analise, you need to rest. I think you should go back to bed for a few hours. I am going to the grocery store to pick up some thing. When I get home I will fix us all a nice lunch and we can feast outside and enjoy this gorgeous Florida weather.”

  “I am feeling fatigued,” Analise admitted. Claire helped her up.

  “I’ll take her,” Devon stood.

  “I can walk just fine, you two. Please stop fussing over me. I’m not crippled,” Analise said.

  “Okay, I’m off to the store. Does anyone h
ave anything special in mind? Devon?”

  “No, not really.”

  “No bourbon?” she hedged.

  “On second thought I would like a big steak, the kind with the bone it in.”

  “You mean a T-bone?” Claire was shocked.

  “Yes, I want a T-bone, a really big one.’

  “You want a big steak?” Claire looked at Devon as if they had just met. “In other words a big hunk of quivering flesh?”

  “That’s right,” Devon said. “Mom, I’m going to make you some more tea. Did you like it? It’s Jameson’s special blend, Periwinkle Persimmon. I will play for you until you fall asleep.” She unveiled her new flute.

  “It’s magnificent,” Claire exclaimed.

  “Claire told me you were with the little girl who gave you the arrowhead.”

  “She’s not a little girl anymore,” Devon smirked.

  “Of course not,” Analise said. “She grew into a gorgeous woman. We saw her when we bought Moon. Remember, Claire?”

  “Of course I remember. It was obvious she didn’t want us to buy the dog. She was rude and nasty.”

  “She sent a hello,” Analise muttered, her eyes far away, remembering. “She said she did the painting for you.”

  “What? Why the hell didn't you tell me?”

  “I didn't want you to be sad.”

  “I was sad anyway because of the life you two made me live. Why did you do that to me?”

  “Why, why, why did we do anything we did? We have our own lessons to learn, yours mingle with mine and visa versa.” Analise’s eyes welled up with tears.

  Devon didn’t push it. “Well, she was probably rude and nasty because she had just found out her mother had cancer.”

  “I liked her mother,” Analise mused. “She had kind eyes and a warm smile. What a shame. I guess life is a death sentence and none of us get out alive, right? I’m going to bed.”

  Devon watched her mother’s slow walk up the path to the house and thought what a fine wisdomism that was.

  “Wait, Mom, I want to come with you and talk.”

  Analise waved her along.

  Devon followed her mother up the stairs and settled her in bed.

  She heard the front door close the sound of Claire driving away.

  “You really want a steak?” Analise smirked. “That’s not like you.”

  “It’s a new me.”

  “I always thought it odd that you were a vegetarian,” Analise mused.

  “Why?”

  Analise's smile was wan. She shrugged.

  Devon fluffed the abundant pillows and snuggled beside her mother. She propped up on an elbow and smiled.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been with Claire this whole time. It seems I don’t know you at all.”

  “You know the person I am. Do the details matter?”

  “Is it wrong to want to understand why you lived two different lives? It influenced me in every aspect of my existence. I deserve some info, don’t you think?”

  “You deserve that and more. Thankfully, you never knew your grandparents, honey. They were very angry and narrow-minded people.” Analise traced the bridge of her nose with her finger. “My father was a mean alcoholic and my mother was a weak, enabling fool. Claire’s mother was a victim of depression and drug dependency. We had to get away from them, Claire’s plan was the only way we could escape our lousy lives.”

  “When I was still seventeen year old Analise Riley, I was so desperate to be away from the violence at home. So eager to be with the one who loved me, I guess I would have agreed to anything.”

  * * * *

  She wished they would kill each other. Analise Riley held her pillow over her face to drown out the noise from the living room. They might as well have been right in her bedroom for all the privacy the thin walls offered. The aroma of baked apple pie turned sour when he came home late from work, the lingering smell of happy hour around him; joy juice as he called it when he was feeling festive, usually about three drinks in. Four drinks and he would hurl insults, his shoes, or anything else handy. Five or more meant someone got a beating. Since Analise and her mother were his only available victims, she had a fifty-fifty chance it would be her.

  Analise traced the crooked bridge of her nose with her finger. A deep scowl unsettled her gentle features. Her nose hadn’t set right because he hadn’t let her mother take her to the hospital. Now it had a bump, a crooked bump at the top of the bridge. Claire said it gave her character and made her even more beautiful. How could a crooked bump do that?

  She slipped into her bedroom when he knocked over his Early Times and Coke. She wasn’t stupid, she knew when to duck and cover. Too bad her mother couldn’t seem to figure it out. Instead, she would bait him, in her caustic way. It was their sick game.

  Analise was on her bed with the acceptance letter clutched to her chest. She hadn’t bothered to show it to her mother, who didn’t much care about Analise’s academia. In fact, neither of her parents knew she planned on moving to Gainesville in the fall. She knew Claire applied to the University of Florida, but it was her back-up school. She had her heart set on Harvard. Analise wasn’t about to leave Florida for the dreary cold. Analise kissed the acceptance letter for the hundredth time. It was her way out, her ticket to freedom. It was the start of their plan. She hoped Claire agreed.

  It was almost midnight and Claire would be getting worried if she didn’t show up soon. From beyond her bedroom door came more muffled cries and a dragging sound across the floor. Their bedroom door slammed shut and led to battle cries of a different kind.

  She buried her head under the pillows and muttered, “I hate you. I hate you both.”

  When she knew it was safe, she tucked the letter into her jeans pocket and slipped out her bedroom window.

  Claire was waiting at her bedroom window waving her own acceptance letter like a flag of victory. She helped Analise through her window.

  “Well?” Claire asked. “U of F, right?”

  “Go Gators!”

  “Too bad, I guess this love affair is over. Oh, well it was fun while it lasted.” Claire tucked her letter into her bra and gave Analise a wicked smile. “I better buy some winter clothes.”

  Analise snatched the letter from her bra. “You are such a liar!”

  Claire pushed her down on the bed and crawled on top of her. “If you think I would ever leave you then you’re crazier than your father.”

  “And that’s pretty crazy,” Analise said. “I can’t wait to get the hell out of here and away from them. I wish we were leaving tomorrow.”

  “Soon. If we were smart enough to get scholarships then we’re smart enough to execute the next phase of our plan.”

  “Mine isn’t about smarts and I don’t want to marry a man,” Analise tossed her head.

  “I know you are an amazing athlete. You deserve the shot at college. And, you’re not marrying a man,” Claire reminded her. “You’re marrying his money.”

  “I don’t really care about money.”

  “It will buy us social acceptance,” Claire said. “Money is freedom.”

  “But, you’re going to be a lawyer and I’m going to be a professional athlete. We will have money.”

  “I don’t see volleyball as having a huge financial pay-out, and sure lawyers make money, but I want sick amounts of money. I mean filthy, dirty rich.”

  “Why is money so important to you?”

  Claire twirled her hair and stared her reflection in the dresser mirror. “I guess it is more the power it will bring, the authority.”

  Analise chuckled. Claire knew nothing about power. It didn’t come from paper and coins. Authority cannot be bought, it is earned. There is a natural order to it. It is not for sale and never for the impatient.

  “What?” Claire asked.

  “I didn’t say anything.” Analise kissed her. Claire would learn the truth about the frivolous life she sought. Analise would teach her no matter how long it took. For now, she appea
sed her mate.

  “I wish you could stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone. I feel safer when you’re with me.”

  “Me, too.” Analise checked her watch. “I have twenty minutes before I have to go. I’m dead meat if they look in on me and I’m not there. Not that they give a shit.”

  “Some people shouldn’t be parents,” Claire snorted. “Why do hateful people insist on breeding?”

  “That’s the truth. They should need a license to breed. My father is such an animal.”

  “All men are animals.”

  “My father really is an animal,” Analise insisted.

  Claire glared at Analise. “Why do you always say that? It makes me question your sanity. Your father is a violent alcoholic asshole but he’s not an animal.”

  She danced her tongue over her teeth and wondered how much force it would take to pierce the skin.

  Claire shifted under her odd gaze. “What are you thinking about?”

  “How delicious you are.”

  “If I’m so delicious why are you wasting time talking?” Claire beckoned Analise by lifting up her shirt. “Want some?”

  Analise nodded.

  “Come and get me.”

  Analise slithered on top of her and purred in Claire’s ear.

  “You are the animal,” Claire murmured as she moved against Analise.

  “That’s true,” Analise growled. “I am a wild creature.” She knew where to touch Claire to make her melt and moan.

  “Yes, you are wild and you make me wild,” Claire whispered in her ear.

  “I want to have a child,” Analise uttered.

  “What?”

  “I want a baby with you.”

  Claire pushed Analise off her. “No way. We are too young and we don’t have the right parts to make that happen. I don’t want kids. I hated being a child and I hate children. Have you been sneaking your daddy’s joy juice? This sudden baby talk is freaking me out.”

  “Come on. We have to compromise if we are going to be together.

  Claire rolled her eyes.

 

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