Her First Vacation (27 page)

“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 staunchly 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.

They had a party on the final day before Christmas break.
In elementary, they had parties for just about every possible occasion. The
children exchanged gifts with each other. Most of them brought a present for
her as well. It was the same thing every year. Some parents bought gifts for
their children to give her while others made things. It meant she always went
home with a stunningly eclectic mix that might include anything from a
customized coffee mug, to a Christmas tree ornament made from a pinecone, some
glitter, and a piece of string. She cherished each and every gift. When she’d
lived at home, she’d decorated her room with the trinkets her children had
given her over the years. Now her entire apartment was dotted with items from
her children. Expensive and handcrafted, they all got equal respect, silent
reminders of the lives she had touched.