Cloudburst

  “To think she was once in our school and that we thought she was someone special,” Jessica said in my dream.

  I must be crazy to take such a risk, I thought. If my mother were here right now, she would surely be angry about it. She would tell me it was foolish to gamble anything on a boy who was so unstable.

  Or would she see the kindness and love in my heart and tell me I was doing just what she would do if she were in my shoes? Was that wishful thinking? Oh, I don’t know what I should do, I thought. It was agonizing.

  The other girls in my school who were my age had no idea what it was like to live without someone close enough to trust with your fears and concerns. They had real mothers, older sisters, and fathers. When I had troubled thoughts, I couldn’t walk out of my room and knock softly on my parents’ door to tell them and get their support and comfort. I had to speak to my mother’s spirit and hope that somehow, some way, she would get the answers to me.

  This was a loneliness they did not know and could not understand. Perhaps that was what drew me to Ryder Garfield more than anything. I saw the same sort of loneliness in him. We were two peas in a pod, all right, both orphans of sorts. Wasn’t it harder for someone with a family to fall in love and want to be with someone who was an orphan? People are fond of saying you can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your relatives. And yet marriages, good marriages, extend the family. Both the man and the woman feel more support, or they should. I knew there were conflicts, even out-and-out feuds between family members that broke up relationships, but who would prefer no family at the start?

  Once I overheard a conversation between Jordan and two of her friends in the gold room, as they referred to one of the living rooms in this house. I wasn’t eavesdropping, but as I was passing by, I heard my name mentioned, and then Mrs. Wayne said, “The disadvantage for any man marrying a girl like Sasha is he doesn’t know enough about her background. From what you’ve told us, there’s almost nothing known about her real father, and what is known isn’t very complimentary.”

  “Yes, what will her children inherit?” Mrs. Becker added. “What characteristics would be passed down? It’s like getting a pig in a poke.”

  “I haven’t heard that expression for ages,” Jordan said, and they were off on another topic. I tiptoed past the door, but I couldn’t help but think about what they had said. Was I a pig in a poke, more of a gamble for anyone to love because there was so little known about my background?

  Although I had never met her, I knew my maternal grandmother was the one who taught Mama calligraphy. I also remembered that my grandparents had lived in Portland, Oregon, and that they had had my mother late in life, and my grandfather, who was a fisherman, had died in a fishing accident during a bad storm. Both of my paternal grandparents had died before I was born, so I had never met them, either. I remember my mother had old photographs of her parents, and I remember her parents had looked as if they could easily be her grandparents.

  Now I couldn’t tell anyone their first names or exactly where they had lived or anything about any of my mother’s relatives. I was truly as anonymous as any orphan who was just dropped off at some orphanage as an infant. I hated thinking about these things. I knew it was bad to sit around feeling sorry for yourself.

  I got busy and packed a travel bag since I would be leaving right from school tomorrow. When I checked my computer, I found Kiera’s e-mail with the driving directions and the address of the motel. I printed out two copies, one for me and one for Ryder. After that, I dove into my schoolwork and did extra reading, hoping to make myself so tired I wouldn’t be able to think so I would have no trouble falling right to sleep. It didn’t work. I tossed and turned for hours, worrying that I had made the wrong decision. Finally, I passed out.

  Even though I was still exhausted, I woke up just before the alarm went off. Mrs. Duval and Mrs. Caro knew about my long-weekend excursion. I didn’t think either knew any reason to be worrying about it, but both looked worried when I saw them at breakfast. Jordan was there just after me. She told me that Donald had left for an early meeting in Las Vegas, but he had left money for me. She gave me five hundred dollars in twenty-dollar bills.

  “Donald told me to tell you to buy something nice for yourself,” she said.

  “I have some money, and I have my credit card,” I said.

  “Yes, we know. Donald wanted you to have this,” she emphasized. “And Kiera has her own money, so she shouldn’t be asking you for any,” she added.

  Afterward, she followed me out to the car and watched me put my travel bag in the trunk.

  “Keep your mind on your driving,” she warned.

  “I will. Thank you, Jordan.”

  She gave me a hug. “Tell my daughter . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “It would be nice if she spent some time with us, too,” she said, and went back into the house.

  Why couldn’t she just say, Tell her I love her? I got into the car and headed to school.

  Ryder’s mother was the one who had had to move her schedule to take the meeting with Dr. Steiner. I saw that Ryder’s car was already there when I pulled into the parking lot. Those students who had arrived were already chatting about his mother’s appearance. I went directly to the office to give Mrs. Knox the permission letter for my early departure. While she read it, I looked at the closed door of Dr. Steiner’s office. Mrs. Knox saw where my gaze went and cleared her throat.

  “I’ll give this to Dr. Steiner as soon as she’s finished with this difficult meeting,” she told me.

  “Thank you,” I said. I could see she that was dying to know what the reason was for my leaving school at lunchtime. I just smiled and left her.

  Ryder didn’t appear in any class until the period before lunch. Shayne and Kory were already in class. When Ryder entered, all conversations stopped, and, it seemed, so did all breathing. He ignored everyone, even me, and took his seat. He kept his eyes down. When the bell rang, I looked first at Shayne and Kory to see if they were going to start something again, but all they did was glare in his direction. I stood there, waiting for him to gather up his things.

  “I’m on very strict probation,” he said. “Can’t look sideways at anyone, or it’s the guillotine. Here’s a good one,” he continued as we started out. “My parents took a page from your foster father’s book. They want me to avoid you. I had to promise to do so, or they threatened to go forward and put both Summer and me in a military-style school no matter what happens here at Pacifica.”

  “They blame me?” I asked.

  “No. It’s more like an ‘I don’t know how to handle a mature relationship yet’ sort of thing.”

  “They believed the things your sister said?”

  Since it was lunchtime, we didn’t have to rush out. I, of course, was planning on leaving anyway.

  “I’ll walk you out to the parking lot,” he replied instead of answering. “I’m not hungry, and I’m planning on slipping away shortly after you do.”

  “Oh, Ryder. This sounds so dangerous now.”

  “Danger is my middle name.”

  “No, really.”

  “What do you want me to do? Become a puppet here and not speak to you or see you again? Because that’s the alternative to all of this, Sasha.”

  “Why did they believe those things about me?”

  “It wasn’t about you. It was about me. They’re assuming I’ll do something to ruin you, that I might already have done it. I’m poison, don’t you see?”

  “No, I don’t,” I said.

  He paused and took a deep breath. “Summer’s not the only mess in the family. I’ve been in trouble before, and I don’t mean running away when I was little or stuff like that.”

  “You told me about your mother and the miscarriage.”

  “No. There was a girl at the last school. She was much younger than you.”

  “How much younger?”

  “She looked much older than she was.”

 
“How much younger?”

  “She was thirteen.”

  “Oh, Ryder.”

  “She looked eighteen. Honest. One of those precocious puberty girls or something. I was stupid.”

  “What happened?”

  “My father had to pay her parents off. Nothing terrible really happened, but . . .”

  “But enough did?” I thought a moment. “Why did your parents want you to be your sister’s watchdog, then? Why did they trust you?”

  “A therapist told them that was the best way to deal with me, make me more responsible. This all happened the year before Summer’s problem. I haven’t been in any serious trouble since, so . . . it’s all stupid and complicated, and I’m sick of it.

  “I’m sick of living in a theater, walking and talking on a stage, playing a role every time we go anywhere or do anything, answering inane questions about my parents, fading into the background so as not to disturb their precious careers. I have to tiptoe through adolescence so as not to bring any untoward attention their way.

  “How would you like to be lectured by a publicist when you were ten and eleven? Taught how to avoid the paparazzi, be schooled on how to answer questions and bawled out for telling too much about your family?

  “How would you like to feel that your own parents regretted having you at all?”

  The expression on my face angered him instead of giving him a sense of sympathy.

  “Wish now that you didn’t get involved with me at all? Sorry about it? Sorry you invited me to join you this weekend?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “You have your own problems, I know. You don’t need my baggage on top of yours.”

  “Stop it, Ryder. The only reason I agreed to meet Kiera was that it would give us an opportunity to be together without everyone watching us. I’m happy to take the risk, and don’t delude yourself into thinking I’m not. When or if Donald March finds out I’ve defied him, he’ll probably move to get me out of the March household.”

  Ryder was silent. Behind us, the student body was moving toward the cafeteria. The chatter was loud, as were the laughter and some students calling to others, but neither of us seemed to hear anything but the beating of our own hearts.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m just angry about everything and taking it out on you, the one person I should cherish and protect.”

  “Let’s not dwell on it anymore. Here are the directions and the motel’s address,” I said. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  He took the paper and put it between the pages of one of his books.

  “I’m supposed to have lunch with my sister today. It’s one of their brilliant solutions to seeing that we get along and make things hunky-dory. We both had to swear to try, so I’m in another performance for a while. As soon as the bell rings to end lunch, I’ll pretend to be going in for class, but I’ll go out to my car and follow you.”

  “I won’t be angry at you if you change your mind at the last minute, Ryder.”

  “I’d be angry at myself,” he said. He looked behind us, and then he stepped back into the corner and pulled me toward him so he could give me a kiss. “See you soon,” he whispered, and walked quickly into the school to head for the cafeteria.

  I glanced after him and then lowered my head and started into the parking lot and to my car. I hadn’t told anyone that I was leaving early today, so it would come as a big surprise. I was sure it would be a topic of conversation for the rest of the day. I could envision Jessica pretending she knew something but was sworn to secrecy.

  After I got into my car, I sat quietly for a few moments. My good and bad angels were screaming at each other. Not only was I being defiant and as deceptive as Kiera had ever been, but I was also getting Ryder into more trouble. All of this was so uncharacteristic of me. I couldn’t deny that it was selfish. Was I behaving more like my father than my mother? Even though he had deserted me, I had his genes. He was biologically as much a part of me as my mother was. All these years, I had denied that because he had denied me, but it wasn’t a realistic thing to do.

  And yet I told myself that my defiance wasn’t born only out of my selfishness. What was happening to Ryder and me was unfair. We needed this time together. Afterward, no matter what the consequences were, we would be stronger. I felt confident of that. Besides, if we did everything we were told to do now, the jealous and mean people around us would have won.

  Strengthened with my resolve, I started the car and backed out of my parking spot.

  I didn’t look back.

  It was time to look only ahead.

  We can change our destinies, Mama, I thought.

  I remembered taking her hand after we had sat on the beach for a long time watching the sun sink beneath the horizon. She had looked at me with surprise and then smiled.

  “Time to go home?” she had asked.

  “Yes, Mama,” I had said, and we rose. She still held on to my hand as we plodded on down the beach. I had no idea where we would go that night or what home meant anymore, but we had walked on as if we both did.

  That’s the way I felt right now.

  15

  Kiera’s Return

  I had never driven myself this long or this far. The weather, which looked at first as if it would bring rain, turned calm and partly cloudy as I went farther north. I was too nervous about what we were doing to worry about my driving, anyway. Following the directions Kiera had sent and using my GPS in the car brought me to the motel four hours later, which was very good driving time. Donald was right about the traffic. Leaving early made it possible. I called Kiera when I was close, and she was out in the motel parking area waiting for me when I pulled up.

  Even when I hated the very sight of Kiera March, I had to admit to myself that she was beautiful. Almost as tall as Ryder’s mother, with Jordan’s light brown hair and azure eyes, high cheekbones, and full, feminine lips, she was stunning, and, of course, she knew it. When I had first come to the March residence and saw how attractive Kiera was, I wondered why. Shouldn’t someone with an evil and selfish nature be uglier? Shouldn’t the dark and ugly things such a person has within her show themselves, break out like pimples or grotesque birthmarks? She certainly shouldn’t have the healthiest-looking hair and the richest-looking complexion.

  That familiar line about beauty being only skin deep came to mind, but no matter how you tried to diminish the value and impact of physical beauty, it still won out. Men always treated attractive women better. Beauty inspired awe. A smile from Kiera March was more appreciated than a smile from someone as pure as a nun but who was average or homely. It was far easier for Kiera to get someone to do her bidding than it was for someone who could show logical reasons for it.

  There she stood waiting for me and looking as radiant as ever with her hair obviously recently styled and her makeup perfect. She wore an expensive pair of designer jeans, high heels, and a turquoise light sweater that with her figure was as good as a spotlight. I saw the way men driving in or out or just walking turned their heads to look at her. She waved to me and pointed at a parking space. I pulled in, shut off the engine, and got out.

  “You did well,” she said, hugging me.

  “Your father was right about how to avoid the heavy traffic.”

  “My father is always right about those sorts of things. How far behind you is Ryder Garfield? Did you leave about the same time?”

  “No. He wasn’t going to leave until after lunch, but he should be here soon,” I said.

  “You look great,” she said, holding me at arm’s length the way some infrequently seen relative might. “Being in love brings out the beauty in you like sunshine brings out the color of a rose. That was a direct quote from Richard, something he told me just recently,” she said, and brushed back her hair. She smiled at a passing driver who beeped his horn. A second did the same. “We’re attracting so much attention we could cause an accident in the parking lot and get sued for being too beautiful.”


  “I didn’t say I was in love,” I told her. I wouldn’t deny to myself that I was falling in love. I just didn’t want her to be the first one who knew it.

  “You are. You can’t fool me.”

  “I thought you weren’t sure what love was,” I reminded her. She pulled the corners of her mouth in and shook her head.

  “You always remember everything I say and throw it back at me,” she complained, and then smiled. “Grab your bag. We have a little suite on the second floor. C’mon. I want to hear everything before he gets here. I have some fun plans for us. I know a dance club nearby, the better restaurants, everything. Of course,” she said with a licentious smile, “I’ll give you two plenty of time alone.”

  I took my bag out of the car and followed her to the stairway that led up to our room. It was a junior suite with a small sitting room that had two chairs, a table, and a sofa bed. There was a television there and in the bedroom, which had two queen-size beds. I saw she had a bottle of vodka in the sitting room on the coffee table.

  “I wasn’t sure what Ryder would like to drink, so I bought that. There’s orange juice in the minibar.”

  “I don’t know what he drinks or even if he does.”

  “Really? You two sound like real goody-goodies. I can’t believe someone like Ryder Garfield with parents like his hasn’t done lots of things.”

  She flopped onto the bed and threw herself back.

  “Isn’t this great? Away from all the gawking eyes and stuffy adults like my parents.” She turned over to lean on her elbow. “My father’s turned into a real stick-in-the-mud, huh?”

  “He’s just . . . very worried,” I said.

  “So worried he wants to invade your private life?”

  “I guess he’s just trying to be a good foster father.”

  “Good foster father? He’s taking you to concerts, ordering a new dress be bought. I’d say he’s going beyond the call of duty. What else has he done for you lately?”

  Was this the time to mention the necklace?

  “He was excited when he found out that I could be the class valedictorian.”