17. Claire
17
CLAIRE
M y days pass with a watercolor blur, one blending into the other with no clear transition. Just an endless wash of summer. Iced lemonades on the porch. Quiet dinners with Daddy and the clicking of silver spoons against porcelain bowls. Reading books in the library as the sliver of sunlight moves like a dial around the room until it vanishes completely.
I ride Calypso, but we don’t dare leave the property. Instead, we do loops around the fence that separates the ranch from the rest of Belleflower.
I’m reminded of the Yeats poem.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
The falcon cannot hear the falconer .
I’m passing Daddy’s office—walking the stretch from my room to the library for another book—when I hear Daddy and Arris arguing.
I slow my steps and rest my back against the wall. Through the crack in the door I hear:
Daddy: “I don’t want that boy around Claire.”
Dagney: “He’s going to be around, whether you want it or not. That’s how these kids work. At least if he’s on the payroll, you can keep an eye on him.”
I hold my breath. The grandfather clock tsks. Tick…tick…tick.
Dagney: “She’s not a little girl anymore. We should talk about?—”
The grandfather clock chimes.
The booming sound startles me and I drop my book. It hits the floor with a soft thud. Dammit . Their voices go quiet. Then there’s the soft sound of boots approaching the door.
I swivel away from the wall and grab my book, and quickly head to the library. I don’t make it in time, though. Dagney exits and calls out my name. “Claire.”
I twirl to face him. I let my arms fall in front of me, clutching my book. “Mr. Dagney.”
Amusement in his eyes. “Are you being good?”
I put on my smile. “Always.”
He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between us. I don’t dare move. He catches my chin and tilts it upward. “Don’t you have the prettiest smile, little Queen?”
“Thank you.”
I remain perfectly still. His hands are big and rough under my jaw. I find a spot on the wall to stare at. I’m accustomed to being observed. It no longer makes me uncomfortable. Just a quiet, empty numbness.
His hand slides to my shoulder. He gives me a familial squeeze. “Go on.”
I peel away from him, retreating back to the library. Even with my back to him, I can feel his eyes on me as I go.