Authors: Liv James
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll get them.”
They hustled everything into the house.
Clara showed Rebecca the back bedroom, which was small but would be okay for
the night. There was a full-size bed with a peach quilted bedspread and
matching curtains. A small window over the headboard overlooked a patch of
grass that was surrounded by towering, leafy maples.
As Rebecca got Elizabeth cleaned up, Clara retrieved the
packages and put them in her bedroom. She’d deal with them later, after Rebecca
went to bed. There was no way she was going to open them in front of her after
the negligee. She didn’t trust Rebecca not to use whatever was in those boxes
against her at the worst possible moment.
Clara slipped on shorts and a t-shirt and
grabbed a pair of flat-soled sandals. She pulled her hair up into a high
ponytail before she walked back out into the living room. Rebecca and Elizabeth
emerged from the bathroom just as Clara was getting ready to leave.
“There’s very little food here,” Clara
apologized. “I picked up a box of granola bars, some yogurt, wine and some beer
when I first got here but it’s almost all gone. I’ll just run down to the store
and pick up a couple of things so we can have dinner tonight and breakfast in
the morning.”
“How long will you be gone?” Rebecca asked,
glancing around the cozy living room.
“Maybe an hour?” Clara guessed. “I want to
run to Wal-Mart and get you a car seat.”
“I told you not to bother,” Rebecca said.
“I don’t really care what you told me. I’m
bothering. She may be your daughter but she’s my niece and I’d like her to live
long enough that I can get to know her a little bit.”
Rebecca went into the kitchen and grabbed a
beer out of the fridge and the last granola bar out of the pack. She broke off
a little piece and gave it to Elizabeth.
“Well, try to be fast because Elizabeth gets cranky
when she doesn’t eat.”
“So do I,” Clara said. “And trust me, I’m
cranky enough already.”
“Look, I told you that you didn’t have to
take us in. I had a plan,” Rebecca said.
“Hell of a plan, Beck,” she said. She tried
to stop herself from continuing but she couldn’t quite do it. “I’m wondering if
you even gave one ounce of thought to what you were going to do when you ran
off.”
“I didn’t run off.”
“Well then what would you call it?” Clara
asked, incredulous. “You’re here aren’t you? I don’t see a husband or even a
boyfriend anywhere around.”
“You know what? I’m not getting into it
with you. You are not perfect, Clara. You and I both know it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clara asked
throwing her hands up in the air at Rebecca’s oldest argument. “I never claimed
I was.”
“You don’t have to claim it, you just act
like it every chance you get.”
“Whatever, Rebecca. I’m trying to help you.
Maybe if you could knock that chip off your shoulder long enough you’d get
that.”
“Well then why are you still standing
here?” Rebecca scoffed.
“An hour,” Clara said. She glanced over at Elizabeth and hesitated.
“There’s no house phone yet and the cable’s not hooked up. There’s a radio on
the kitchen counter and here, I’ll leave you my cell phone in case you have an
emergency. It’s brand new so …”
“…don’t break it?”
“No, that wasn’t what I was going to say,”
Clara said. Why did this have to be so difficult? “Only a few people have the
number, so you shouldn’t have to worry about answering any calls.”
“We’ll be fine. As long as we don’t starve
to death waiting for you.”
“Look, I’d invite you along but I’m not
putting Elizabeth
in a car without a car seat again. So you’re stuck here until I get back. Give
me your car keys.”
“What?” Rebecca asked, looking at Clara
like she’d lost her mind.
“Give me your car keys.”
“I will not.”
“Yes, you will. I want you here when I get back.
I have to answer to Mom on this one and I’m not going to get reamed out because
you took off.”
“Fine,” she said, tossing the keys to
Clara. “I’m too tired to argue with you. Just get back here as soon as you
can.”
“I will. Bye, Elizabeth,” she said, leaning down and
tickling the little girl under the chin. She giggled and squished her chin down
toward her chest.
Clara smiled at her and headed to the
store.
It didn’t take quite an hour to get the
groceries she needed, pick up a bottle of wine and buy a car seat and some
pull-ups for Elizabeth.
By the time she was done she’d racked up another $180 on her charge card. She
shivered at the thought of the bill.
The car seat came in a gigantic cardboard
box. It didn’t dawn on Clara that it wouldn’t fit in the Acura’s trunk until
she was standing out in the darkened Wal-Mart parking lot trying to jam it in.
It didn’t take a physics degree to see that there was no way in hell she’d be
able to get the damned thing in, so she ripped open the box, snapping a fingernail
in the process, and slid the car seat out. Instead of putting the hulking seat
in the trunk she stuck it in her own back seat, then broke the box down flat
and slid it between the front and back seats. She loaded the rest of the order
into the trunk and headed back to the bungalow.
She hadn’t left the parking lot when she
realized that she should have buckled the car seat in, even though chances were
Elizabeth would
never ride in her car. Loose as it was, it tilted back and forth across the
back seat every time she rounded a curve. Clara shook her head. Rebecca would
have to figure out how to secure the damned thing in her car when she got
back.
When she pulled up in front of the bungalow
Rebecca and Elizabeth were sitting out on one of the blue resin chairs on the
front porch. The porch light was blazing in the darkness, drawing an assortment
of moths and bugs toward the front door. Rebecca set Elizabeth down in the porch and helped Clara
carry the bags in. Clara pulled Rebecca’s keys from her pocket and unlocked the
Toyota,
jostling the seat into position.
“Do you know how to strap this thing in?”
Clara asked.
Rebecca looked at her and shrugged her
shoulders. “Matt always did it.”
“Wonderful,” Clara said under her breath,
backing out of the car and sitting on the edge of floorboard, her feet on the
soft ground. She grabbed the instructions that were tucked into a plastic clip
on the back of the seat and tried to figure it out herself. Rebecca’s car was
too old to use the new latch system, so Clara settled for the seatbelt
restraint. She followed the instructions closely, securing the seat by pressing
down into it with her knee and pulling the seatbelt tight through the back of
it. Until she was done she’d worked up a sweat.
When she got into the house, Rebecca was
sitting on the loveseat with Elizabeth.
The grocery bags were stacked up on the small kitchen table. Clara was out of
breath from wrestling with the car seat.
“Would it have killed you to unload these
bags?” she snapped.
“No,” Rebecca said. “I figured you had some
sort of special system and I didn’t want to get in the way.”
Clara glared at her and unloaded the
groceries. When she was done she pulled a rotisserie chicken from a foil bag,
and set out a pound of deli potato salad and a bunch of seedless red grapes.
She got out paper plates, silverware and glasses, then called Rebecca and Elizabeth to the table.
“Nice of you to cook for us,” Rebecca said.
“Are you hungry or not?” Clara asked. She
was so regretting inviting Rebecca to her house. She should have taken her
straight to Josie’s. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t figure out why the hell
she hadn’t just dropped her off there in the first place.
Rebecca and Elizabeth sat down. Clara cut a
small portion of the chicken for Elizabeth
and then cut it into tiny bite-sized pieces so she wouldn’t choke. Rebecca dug
into the meal like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Clara poured herself a glass of white wine
and took a seat across from Rebecca. The chicken was tender and well-seasoned, and
the potato salad and grapes made it feel like a summer meal. They ate in
silence for a while. Then Clara spoke.
“I haven’t seen you since Fort Worth,” she said. “What have you been up
to?”
“A little bit of this and a little bit of
that,” Rebecca said between bites.
“You didn’t mention having a child when you
were making an ass out of yourself and of me,” Clara said.
“I don’t remember much about that,” Rebecca
said. “I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble.”
“I got fired.”
“Bummer.”
“Where did you go after you left?” Clara
asked, trying to stifle the urge to wring Rebecca’s neck.
“Home. Back to Maryland, to Matt.”
“Maryland?
How did you get there?” Clara asked.
“I hitchhiked.”
Clara sat back in her chair and stared at
her sister. It was hard to believe they shared even some of the same genes.
“You hitchhiked.”
“Okay, Miss Judgment Day. It probably
wasn’t the smartest move. But that’s over now. I want to make a clean break and
a fresh start.”
“Good luck with that,” Clara said, cutting
another piece of chicken for Elizabeth.
“I was hoping you’d help me,” Rebecca said.
“Probably not a good idea.”
“Come on, Clara. You always flaunted how
good you are at everything. The best student, the prettiest girl, the one her
daddy loves so much … the least you can do is lend your ugly stepsister a
helping hand.”
“High school ended a long, long time ago,”
Clara said sternly. “Get over it already. And I am helping you in case you
haven’t noticed. And you’re my half-sister, not my stepsister.”
“But you think I’m ugly.”
Clara stopped eating and stared at Rebecca.
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“For Christ’s sake Beck, I don’t think
you’re ugly. I think it’s about time you grew up, that’s all. You’re thirty
years old, not fourteen. It’s time to move on.”
“Easy for you to say. You have a father who
would move heaven and earth to make sure you’re okay. How long have you been
working for him now? I bet he’s made you a vice president.”
Clara set down her fork and looked at her
sister, feeling exhausted and irritated when she should be relaxing and
regrouping. That was why she’d come back to Brighton
in the first place. Definitely not to deal with this shit.
“I have been working for him for exactly
one day, Rebecca. One day. I just got back into town myself on Friday night.”
“Where were you?”
“None of your business,” Clara said,
picking her fork back up and digging into her potato salad.
“Fine. Just making conversation,” Rebecca
shrugged.
“Are you done with your dinner?” Clara
asked.
“Almost. Why?”
“I want you to do the dishes when you’re
done. It’s the least you can do to help out.”
“I thought I was a guest,” Rebecca said,
clearly taken aback at Clara’s lack of manners.
“You’re not.”
“How rude.”
“You bet. I’ll take Elizabeth into the living room and play with
her while you clean up,” Clara said. “You can get a shower, too, if you want.
Everything you need should be in there.”