Long Snows Moon (21 page)

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 have
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
appeased 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.”