Chapter 8
To Do:
- Marching band practice
- Forward Aaron the updated quotes
“The high priestess.”Alice tapped a hot pink fingernail against a black and gold card. “You’re about to begin a journey where you will be tested. You should trust your intuition. Follow it.”
Claire sighed and propped her head in her hand, elbow planted on Luke’s breakfast nook table. The bay window behind her let in plenty of late afternoon sun, illuminating the row of cards in front of her. After several less-than-subtle hints from her mother, she had erroneously agreed to a tarot reading. Dull pain throbbed behind her temples. Rosie whined and laid her head on Claire’s lap. Claire patted her absentmindedly.
Rachel had shown up halfway through lunch to collect the bags that Luke had tossed unceremoniously onto the porch. Mindy had farted into her toiletries bag, claiming that it would give Rachel pinkeye, and Claire could have sworn she saw her mother take a sock from the laundry bag.
Nicole, Kyle, and Mindy had gone home shortly after, bellies full of empanadas and homemade tortilla chips. Now she and Luke were slowly passing the time until Alice left for the airport. Their argument hovered on the horizon like storm clouds.
“The queen of cups.” Alice glanced at Luke, who was wandering around the kitchen with a video camera, clearly amused by the proceedings. A beautiful flower arrangement stood behind him. It had been waiting on the porch for them when they arrived at his home—a thank you from Kayley Herrold’s family for telling their daughter’s story and putting the Widowmaker behind bars.
“Wait. I can interpret this one.” Claire put her hand on the queen and wiggled her around on the table. “Drink more wine, Claire. Thou cannot pour from an empty cup,” she said in a British accent.
“Thank you, queen of cups,” she said in her normal voice, reaching for an almost-empty bottle of pinot noir. Alice slapped her hand.
“No. This generally means you are lovely and caring, deeply empathetic, with an open heart. Maybe too open.”
Claire grunted.
“The moon,” Alice said, gesturing to a card of a dog howling at the moon. “How has your anxiety been, Claire?”
“You mean since I was stabbed last week? Oh, great. It’s been super manageable.”
“Sweetheart.” Her mom reached across the table to hold her hand. “Did you call any of those therapists I sent you?”
Again with the therapists. They sure hadn’t worked for Alice and Bio-dad when they had tried couples counseling as a last-ditch effort to save their marriage. The last thing Claire needed right now was someone delving into her childhood and blaming her deadbeat dad for all her current problems. That was a can of worms she was more than happy to leave firmly sealed.
“I don’t need a therapist. I’m fine,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “People get stabbed every day. What’s the next card?”
“The tower.” Alice frowned at the image of a woman falling from a flaming tower.
“Seems about right.” Claire shot daggers at Luke, who snorted audibly from across the room. “Should I petition the city to install trampolines outside my apartment?”
“I don’t think so, sweetie. The tower means change, possibly chaos. Sometimes destruction.”
“Fabulous, I haven’t hit my ‘destruction’ quota yet this month.”
“And…” Alice glanced at the last card.
“Who’s the old guy holding the stick?” Claire asked.
“The emperor. He usually means something to do with structure or authority. Sometimes he represents a father figure.”
“Maybe Roy was supposed to come here with you,” Claire said pointedly. She missed her stepdad and his kind, quiet ways.
“He was going to, sweetie. Someone’s water heater exploded right before we were going to leave for the airport.” Alice scooped up the cards and shuffled them back into the deck.
“You’re sure it had nothing to do with his pathological fear of planes?”
“He doesn’t have that anymore. I took him to a hypnotist.” She handed the deck to Claire.
“Of course you did. Well, thank you, Mom. Oh look, your cab is here.” Claire turned at the sound of gravel crunching on the driveway.
She was relieved for a millisecond, but then remembered that she had no idea when she’d see her mother again.
“We would have happily driven you to the airport, you know,” Claire said, collecting her mother’s carry-on bag from the foyer. A proponent of always being prepared, Alice always carried a fully stocked carry-on with extra outfits even for same-day trips.
“I can feel that you two have some things to talk about,” Alice said, leaning in and hugging Claire tightly. “Best not to delay, darling. Hurt feelings hurt the body.”
In a flash, Alice crossed the room and drew Luke into a smothering hug. He gingerly put the camera down on the kitchen island and returned her embrace.
While Alice knelt and scratched Rosie behind the ears, cooing over her “granddog,” Luke picked up the suitcase and opened the front door. Claire helped Alice up from the floor, and they walked arm-in-arm to the cab.
The wall of pine trees that lined the driveway cast long shadows over the neatly trimmed grass. The sun was setting. Dinner and the card reading had taken longer than Claire thought. She really should have devoted some more time to reviewing Tyler’s proposal.
“Take care, sweetheart.” Alice’s worry line was back.
“I’ll miss you. Let me know when you land?”
“Of course. I love you.”
“Love you more,” Claire said, welcoming one last hug.
Her mother slid into the back seat of the cab, waving as the car reversed and disappeared down the lane.
Luke had rested his arm around Claire’s shoulders, and he was unfairly distracting her by rubbing his thumb into the base of her neck.
“Hey, Luke?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember that time I told you that if you ever, ever lied to me again, then we were done?” she said quietly.
“I don’t remember that.”
“Do you remember that time you told me twice that you didn’t have a brother? And it turns out you do in fact have a brother?”
Luke sighed. His hand dropped from her shoulders.
“You don’t know the whole story.”
She turned to face him. She wouldn’t be surprised if steam was pouring out of her ears. “So, tell me the whole story.”
He averted his gaze and put his hands in his pockets. “It’s hard to explain.”
Her face screwed up like she had just eaten a sour candy. “Are you kidding me right now? How hard can it possibly be to tell me the truth? Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the past two days? In the past month? If I can survive being targeted by a serial killer, you can muster up some strength in that dangly little sack of yours and find the courage to tell me the truth.”
“Claire, it’s—” He paused, but she shushed him.
If she had to stand in his presence for even one more minute, she was going to explode like an atomic bomb.
“Let me guess. It’s complicated. You know what? Save it. You’re wasting my time. I don’t want to hear any more lies today. I have things to deal with. Take me home.” She never should have let him drive this morning.
“Come on.” He reached for her, and she slapped his hand away. If he touched her, all of this resolve was in danger of crumbling.
He buried the hand she had slapped into his hair. He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him.
“You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care about your brother. I sure as hell don’t care about your psychotic, victim-blaming attorney of a mother.” Claire turned on her heel and stomped back toward the house, stabbing at her phone to bring up her ride sharing app.
There was another crunch of gravel on the driveway, and Claire whirled around. The taxi was back. It pulled to a stop, and the back door opened. Her mother smiled kindly from inside and extended one manicured hand.
Claire opened the front door, snapped a leash on Rosie, grabbed her purse and shoes, and stormed across the yard past Luke.
“Claire, come on. Can we talk about this?”
“I tried to talk, Luke. Remember that.” She helped Rosie into the cab and slammed the door behind her. She turned to her mother, willing herself not to cry.
“How did you know?”
“I had an intuition, sweetie. Oh, my sweet Queen of Cups,” Alice said, pulling Claire into her. She stroked her hair, the same way she did after Claire had gotten a B on a spelling test as a child. Rosie jumped up from the floor and settled on both of their laps, sending a cloud of dog hair flying.
“Go easy on him if you can,” Alice continued. “There’s something very deep and very painful there. He’s not ready to talk about it. Trust takes time to grow.”
Claire closed her eyes and breathed in the rich spice of her mother’s perfume. Though Alice was absolutely bonkers most of the time, she was still a pretty great mom.