Long Snows Moon (22 page)

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

Claire rolled her eyes.

Analise covered her face in kisses. “I
imagine my sweet baby girl with your dreamy eyes and brilliant
mind.”

“And your beautiful smile,” Claire said. “Why
is having a child important to you?”

“To keep the species going, silly.”

“What species, lesbians?” Claire laughed.

Analise unbuttoned Claire’s pants and slipped
her hand inside. She knew how to shut her up.

Her primal senses focused elsewhere, Analise
was unaware of Evelyn Sommers’ old Monte Carlo as it coughed up the
driveway. When Claire began kissing her chest, she heard her own
heated sighs, not Claire’s mother entering the house and calling
out she was home. Neither of them heard her mother plod down the
hallway to her bedroom and change out of her day clothes into some
comfortable sweats. Evelyn Sommers’ presence became apparent only
when she opened the bedroom door and screamed.

“Claire Louise Sommers!”

“Mother!”

Claire tried to yank her hand out of
Analise’s jeans but failed. Reflex caused her to knock Analise to
the floor. With her hand still trapped in Analise’s pants, she
tumbled on top of her.

They were at her mercy but Evelyn’s eyes
showed no pity. Analise felt like a mouse in a trap awaiting
reprisal from a large cat. She stared down with an infinite frown.
Analise wished for a trap door or a man with a red cape to rescue
her from this fate.

“Please compose yourself, Claire,” her mother
sneered. She sat at Claire’s desk and sighed as if it were her
final breath. It was a raspy wheeze heavy smokers get. Evelyn
Sommers lit up.

Analise wanted to crawl out the door. Evelyn
stood between her and freedom. She pulled her knees to her chest,
and did her level best to avoid her eyes.

“Don’t you believe in knocking?” Claire
asked.

Analise cringed when Claire dropped a
protective arm over her shoulder.

“I didn’t know I needed to knock on your
bedroom door at twelve thirty at night. I saw your light on. I
figured you were reading.”

“Analise just came over to show me her
acceptance letter.”

“Congratulations, Ana. How’s your mom?”
Evelyn smoked. Analise squirmed.

“She’s fine. In fact I really should be
going.”

“In a minute right after our talk.” Evelyn
dragged on her cigarette and used her left hand as an ashtray.
“Number one, don’t ever smoke these vile things, they’ll make your
teeth and fingers yellow. They give you premature crow’s feet and
cause little fine lines around your mouth. So, even when you do
want to fix yourself up and put on some lipstick the lipstick
drifts into the lines and makes them look even more
pronounced.”

“We don’t smoke, Mom,” Claire
interrupted.

Analise shook her head. “No way!”

“Good. Well, about what I witnessed here. I
will not have this going on in my house. Sex is sex, Claire Louise,
and you are not allowed to have it until you are married. Now, I
didn’t raise a lesbian, so I’m forced to believe Analise is to
blame. I’m sorry, Analise, but you do have a provocative way about
you. It’s not your fault. Your mother was notorious in high school
for being a whore.”

“Mother!” Claire yelled. She pulled Analise
closer.

Evelyn continued, “There was a day I might
have fainted at the sight of my only child in such a compromising
position with another girl, but as you know, since your father left
I have hardened. I lost my faith and my beliefs. I turned my back
on the church and I will turn my back on anything else I don’t
believe in. I don’t believe in this. Do you understand me Claire
Louise?”

Claire scowled and stared at a stain on the
rug.

“Analise, I trust this will be the last time
you visit this house. Say your good-byes and get out.”

* * * *

“Her mother caught you in the act? How
embarrassing,” Devon chuckled.

“Yes, it was,” Claire, agreed as she joined
them in the bedroom “That was not the last time Analise came over.
Nothing could keep us apart.”

Analise giggled. “True.”

“What a brilliant beginning. I wish you had
left out the sex parts,” Devon chuckled. “And the part about my
grandmother being a whore.”

“I wish I hadn’t waited so long to be with
you,” Claire told Analise as she caressed her face.

Analise sighed. “I know, I wish that, too. I
wish I wasn’t sick, I wish I had been a better parent, I wish I
never had to share you with Burke Danforth.”

“Don’t,” Claire murmured. “Please, Ana.”

“I never told you how hard it was on me, how
many sleepless nights I spent wondering about what went on in your
bedroom.”

“Ana, stop.”

“You don’t know how difficult this transition
was for me. You didn’t know the first night we were here I slipped
out and went to Wal-Mart.”

“Wal-Mart?” Claire scowled. “Why on earth
would you go there?”

Analise shrugged. “I always do. It’s open all
night, it’s brightly lit, and it keeps me humble.”

* * * *

Analise walked the deserted aisles of the
local Wal-Mart. She noticed it on their way in through town. She
often roamed the aisles when insomnia plagued her. It started when
Burke and Claire first got married. Analise hadn’t slept a wink
during their honeymoon, haunted by images of him with her, touching
her, taking her, disturbed more by the prospect Claire might be
enjoying it. Burke Danforth was, after all, a beautiful man.
Analise fell prey to her second sleepless season when Claire and
Burke were trying to conceive. That was when her romance with her
little blue pills began. The blessed prescription chased the
anxiety away like a monster from a child’s closet.

Claire never had to worry about ‘Mr. Van
Sykes’ as she called him, because he was completely impotent.
Claire never offered Analise that same peace of mind. She insisted
sex with Burke was a wifely commitment.

Analise couldn’t stomach the same commitment
to Andrew Van Sykes. She moved into her own bedroom after a few
years of marriage. Claire never lost any sleep over what her lover
was doing between the hours of dusk and dawn.

The thought of all those years of sharing
Claire with him made her angry. It was going to be hard to get used
to the idea they were finally together. She’d been living for the
day. She’d waited over thirty years. The one single day that
fortified her through an unhappy existence. Here it was, her
magical day, and she was walking around in a Wal-Mart in a strange
city. The sorrow of leaving Devon without a good-bye or a
forwarding address shadowed her happy day. How could Claire think
it wouldn’t have?

Analise was grateful for the familiarity of
the department store and walked her normal route straight back to
the toys. Good old Wal-Mart was a familiar place open and anonymous
at three a.m. She snuck out of bed and took her cell phone without
disturbing Claire. She restored service hours ago and dialed Devon
a half a dozen times.

She walked past the shoe area and tried Devon
again. Her phone went straight to voicemail and Analise didn’t
bother to leave another message. Devon had every right to be angry
as hell.

Analise now realized she’d been guilty of
being an idle parent. She’d become a person who allowed things to
come about instead of making them happen. She turned a blind eye
through much of Devon’s upbringing though she knew she should
intervene when Claire was too harsh. She always tried to keep the
peace. That had been her excuse. How long had Claire been guiding
her, manipulating everyone around them, while Analise remained
forever her faithful, taciturn accomplice, not willing to rock the
boat or rile Claire’s temper? What was her excuse now?

She picked up a pair of cheap sneakers and
smiled. They were low budget shoes that came attached to the other
by a piece of plastic, making it a challenge to try them on without
falling on your ass. No doubt, it would have been ‘lashed together
Wal-Mart shoes’ for all of them if Claire hadn’t devised a way for
them to be wealthy. The fact was there wouldn’t even be a Devon
without Claire. That knowledge was bittersweet. She tried on the
sneakers, managed not to fall and decided to buy them despite of
their lack of support and cheap vinyl uppers. It would be humbling
to get back to her roots and to remember where she came from, even
if it started with a cheap pair of shoes.

In the next aisle, she heard a woman scolding
her young daughter for not picking out the right size.

“What’s wrong with you, Dumb Ass? I need a
nine not an eight.”

Analise winced and peered down the aisle. The
harsh words made her bristle. She shuddered in the wake of the deep
seeded memories that came raging back. She saw the woman holding a
wooden heeled sandal in each hand.

Analise averted her gaze and hurried by the
aisle.

She heard the child begin to wail and the
woman’s voice replied with contempt. “Shut up would you? You’re
such a cry baby.”

Analise gasped. Bitter childhood memories
raced through her mind. She cringed to recall his harsh language,
the calluses, and the callousness of the back of his hand. Analise
never raised an angry hand to Devon, nor an unforgivable word,
however she realized now she had never rushed to Devon’s defense
either. As her mother hadn’t rushed to hers.

Analise peered down the aisle, the woman was
still there, the child still crying. She sidled down the aisle
pretending to look at shoes. The closer she got to the woman the
nicer she was to her daughter. If nothing else, Analise could save
the child from humiliation by her proximity.

She and the woman went for the same shoebox
at the same time. They both laughed.

Analise looked into the woman’s eyes and was
stunned by what she saw, she was not a woman as she’d thought, but
a teenage child.

“Your daughter is precious,” Analise
smiled.

“My daughter? I don’t have a daughter, I’m
just fourteen.”

“Oh, I thought you were a grown woman for a
second there and I thought I saw a little girl with you,” Analise
muttered, as she looked around, bewildered that they were alone.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not wearing my glasses.”

“Yes you are.”

Analise felt her glasses. “Right.” She
laughed. “They are on my face.” She turned to go. “I guess I’m
seeing things.”

“Ma’am,” the girl touched her arm. “Are you
okay?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk if that’s what you think.
I’m just up later than I should be. I’m fatigued.” She noticed the
girl’s pendant. Analise reached out and touched it. “What a lovely
owl pendant, how unique.”

“Thank you.” The girl clutched Analise’s
hand. Her touch was warm and calming.

“I don’t think you’re drunk. I think you are
not well. You have a disease inside you and it makes you tired and
makes your eyes red. I also think you are sad and you miss your
daughter very much.”

Analise began to cry. The young girl took
Analise in her arms.

“Yes, everything you said is true,” she
sobbed against the girl’s dark hair. “I am a horrible mother,
that’s why I got sick I think.”

“A cure will come, a cure will come, and this
sickness will be done,” the girl whispered. “The cure will be a
delicious tea, drink it often and you will see.”

“What a sweet rhyme.”

Analise realized she was alone. The girl was
gone and she was no longer in the shoe department. She clutched a
large plush toy against her chest, soggy from her abrupt tears. She
held it away from her. It was an owl with large, expressive eyes.
Analise glanced up the vacant aisle, realizing she must have
imagined the girl.

She traced the bridge of her nose, feeling
the crooked bump. She envisioned his fist coming at her and the
sudden impact. She flinched at the memory of the cartilage snap.
His perfect punch blackened both eyes. The black changed to many
hues that summer, settling for an ugly yellowish tinge. Aviator
sunglasses had been the rage back then and she’d hid behind them or
in her room for most of her summer break. Her father bought her the
sunglasses but he never did apologize.

You must clear away your past so your new
life may be born
.
Release your pain and grief.

Analise whirled around. She was alone in the
vacant aisle. She massaged her forehead. The lights were too
bright. A wave of nausea swept her. She caught herself on the shelf
and waited for it to pass. She clutched the owl. She had to get
home and back into her warm bed. She noticed the sneakers in her
hand and frowned. So she had been in the shoe aisle. Therefore, the
woman who was really a girl was possibly real. She decided to
purchase the shoes to mark the event authentic. The medicine she
was taking was heavy and jumbled her mind. She had no business out
of the house. When she got to the register she watched, dazed, as
the cashier rang her purchases, a pair of sneakers and a stuffed
owl.

“Oh, you bought Jo Jo,” the cashier grinned,
showing off a brown tooth.

“Pardon me?” Analise frowned.

“That’s the owl’s name, it’s Jo Jo.” She
showed Analise the tag. “Jo Jo the Wise Owl. Is this for your
grandbaby? It’s so cute I love owls. They have people looking eyes,
eyes that seem to look right into your soul.”

“Uh huh,” Analise muttered as she took her
purchases.

“Release your guilt and set yourself
free.”

“What?” When Analise glanced back, she
realized the cashier was busy with the next customer.

* * * *

“I wasn’t aware you’d even left the house,”
Claire sighed. “I’m not a good caretaker, I suppose.”

“That isn’t your duty,” Analise replied.

Devon watched them, feeling remote, like a
glass partition separated them. Her mother’s experience in the
department store was a mystical one. Her mother leaked a secret in
the telling. Had it been intentional? Devon felt her pulse race as
she studied Claire. She appeared cool as ever. She hadn’t noticed
her mother’s slip up.