Between Sisters (21 page)

C
HAPTER
TWENTY

T
HE NEXT MORNING, THE WEATHER IN HAYDEN WAS
perfect. A bright sun rode high in the cornflower blue, cloudless sky. A thin, cooling breeze rustled through the trees, making music on the deep green maple leaves. By five o'clock, Claire was ready to begin dressing. The problem was, she couldn't move.

Behind her, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said, thankful for the distraction.

Meghann stood in the doorway, holding a pile of plastic-sheathed dresses. She looked nervous, uncharacteristically uncertain. “I thought maybe we'd get dressed together.” When Claire didn't answer instantly, Meghann said, “You probably think it's a stupid idea.” She backed out of the room.

“Stop. I think it would be great.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I just need to shower.”

“Me, too. I'll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

True to her word, Meghann was back in ten minutes, wearing a towel around her naked body. Once inside the room, she changed into a bra and panties, then dried her hair and fashioned it into a beautiful French twist.

“That looks great,” Claire said.

“I could do your hair if you'd like.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I did it all the time when you were little.”

Claire didn't remember that, and yet she crossed the room and automatically knelt in front of the bed.

Meghann settled in behind her, began brushing her hair. She hummed as she worked.

Claire closed her eyes. It felt so good to have someone brushing her hair.

It came to her then, floating on the lullaby of her sister's humming, a memory.

You'll be the prettiest girl in all of Barstow kindergarten, Claire-Bear. I'll put this pink ribbon all through your braids and it'll protect you.

Like a magic ribbon?

Yes. Just exactly like that. Now sit still and let me finish.

“You
did
do my hair when I was little.”

The hairbrush paused, then began stroking again. “Yes.”

“I wish I remembered more of those years.”

“I wish I remembered less.”

Claire didn't know what to say to that, so she changed the subject. “Have you heard from Mama?”

“No. I left three messages yesterday. Her
houseboy
told me she'd call back at a better time.”

“There's no point getting mad at her. She is who she is.”

“Yeah. A has-been actress and a never-was mother.”

Claire laughed. “She'd debate ‘has-been actress' with you.”

“That's true. After all, she's done Shakespeare in Cleveland. There. All done.”

Claire climbed to her feet and started to head for the bathroom.

“Wait.” Meghann pulled her back to the bed. “Sit down here. No one is supposed to do their own wedding makeup.” Meg got up, ran to her bedroom, and returned a minute later with a box big enough to hold fishing tackle.

Claire frowned as she sat down. “Not too much. I don't want to look like Tammy Faye.”

“Really? I thought you did.” Meghann opened the tackle box. Inside lay dozens of shiny black compacts emblazoned with the interlocked Chanel
C
s.

Claire smiled. “I think you spend too much time at Nordstrom.”

“Close your eyes.”

Claire did as she was told. Whisper-soft bristles breezed across her eyelids and along her cheekbones.

Fairy kisses, that's what I call 'em.

Halloween. The year they lived in Medford, Oregon. Mama had been waiting tables during the day and dancing in a strip club at night.

Can you make me look like a princess, Meggy?
Claire had asked, eyeing Mama's oh-so-off-limits bag of makeup.

Of course I can, silly. Now, close your eyes.

“Okay. You're done.”

Claire's legs were unsteady as she got to her feet. She looked at Meghann, sitting there on her knees with the makeup box open beside her and, for a split second, Claire was a six-year-old princess, holding her big sister's hand on Halloween night.

“Go look.”

Claire went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

Her blond hair had been loosely drawn back from her face and twisted into an elegant roll. The hairstyle emphasized her cheekbones and made her eyes look huge. She'd never looked this pretty. Never.

“Oh” was all she said.

“You don't like it. I can change it. Come over here.”

Claire turned to her sister. They were always doing that to each other, misinterpreting, imagining the worst. No wonder every conversation bruised one or the other. “I love it,” she said.

Meghann's smile was dazzling. “Really?”

Claire took a step toward her. “What happened to us, Meg?”

Meghann's smile faded. “You know what happened. Please. Let's not talk about it now. Not today.”

“We've been saying ‘not today' for years. I don't think it's a strategy that's worked, do you?”

Meghann released a heavy sigh. “Some things hurt too much to talk about.”

Claire knew about that. It was the principle that had guided their whole relationship. Unfortunately, it had kept them strangers to each other. “Sometimes silence hurts most of all.” She heard the ache in her voice; there was no way to mask it.

“I guess we're living proof of that.”

They stared at each other.

Suddenly the door banged open. “Mommy!” Ali raced into the room, already wearing her beautiful ice-blue silk bridesmaid dress. “Hurry, Mommy, come look.” She grabbed Claire's hand, dragged her toward the door.

“Just a second, honey.” Claire threw Meghann a bathrobe, then slipped a nightgown over her own head and followed Ali downstairs. Outside in the driveway, Dad, Bobby, and Alison stood around a candy-apple-red convertible.

Claire moved toward them, frowning. That was when she noticed the pink bow on the hood. “What in the world?”

Dad handed her a note. It read:

Dear Claire and Bobby,

Best of luck on your big day. I'm

still hoping to make it up there.

Hugs and kisses,

Mama

Claire stood there a long time, staring down at the car. She knew what it meant: Mama wasn't going to make it to the wedding. Probably, she chose the hard-to-get hair appointment instead.

Meg came up beside her, laid a hand on her shoulder. “Let me guess: Mama's wedding gift.”

Claire sighed. “Leave it to Mama to give me a car with two seats. Am I supposed to have Ali run along behind?”

Then she laughed. What else could she do?

Claire stood in the dressing room at the small Episcopal church on Front Street. The last hour had been nonstop action. She and Meghann hadn't found five minutes to talk.

The Bluesers had been in and out of the dressing room every few minutes, oohing and aahing over her dress, and Meghann had been busily checking details, clipboard in hand. Ali had asked at least a dozen times which step she was supposed to stand on.

But now, the room was mercifully quiet. Claire stood in front of the full-length mirror, unable to quite grasp that the woman in the glass was her. The gown fit perfectly, flowing to the floor in a cascade of white silk, and the veil made her look every bit the princess.

Her wedding day.

She couldn't quite believe it. Every night since meeting Bobby, she'd gone to sleep wondering if he'd be there in the morning. When the sun came up, she was quietly amazed to find him still there.

Another lovely legacy from childhood, she supposed.

But soon, she would be Mrs. Robert Jackson Austin.

There was a knock at the door.

It was Meghann. “The church is packed. Are you ready?”

Claire swallowed hard. “I am.”

Meghann took her sister's arm and led her out to the small area behind the closed church doors. Dad was already there, waiting with Ali.

“Oh, Ali Kat, you look like a princess,” Claire said, kneeling down to kiss her daughter.

Alison giggled, twirled. “I love my dress, Mommy.”

Behind the doors, the music started. It was time.

Meghann bent down to Alison. “Are you ready, sweetie? You walk slow—like we practiced, okay?”

Ali hopped up and down. “I'm ready.”

Meghann eased the door open a crack. Ali slipped through and disappeared.

Dad turned to Claire. His eyes filled slowly with tears. “I guess you're not my little girl anymore.”

“Get ready,” Meghann said; a second later, the organ started “Here Comes the Bride,” and she opened the doors.

Claire slipped her arm through her dad's and they walked slowly down the aisle. At the end of it, Bobby, dressed in a black tuxedo, waited. His brother, Tommy Clinton, stood beside him. Both men were smiling broadly.

Dad stopped, turned to Claire. He lifted the veil and kissed her cheek, then eased away from her, and suddenly Bobby was there beside her, taking her arm, leading her up to the altar.

She looked up at him, loving him so much it scared her. It wasn't safe to love someone this much. . . .

Don't be scared
, he mouthed, squeezing her hands.

She focused on the feel of his hand in hers, the comfortable stability of him beside her.

Father Tim droned on and on, but Claire couldn't really hear anything except the beating of her own heart. When it came time for her to say her lines, she panicked that she wouldn't be able to hear or remember them.

But she did. When she said, “I do,” it felt as if her heart were actually expanding inside her chest. In that moment, standing in front of her friends and family and staring into Bobby's blue eyes, she started to cry.

Father Tim smiled down at each of them, then said, “I now pronounce you husband and—”

The doors to the church banged open.

A woman stood in the doorway, arms out-flung, a cigarette in one hand. She wore a silver lamé dress that showcased her curves. Behind her, there were at least a dozen people: bodyguards, reporters, and photographers. “I can't
believe
y'all started without me.”

A gasp of recognition moved through the church. Someone whispered, “It's
her
.”

Bobby frowned.

Claire sighed and wiped her eyes. She should have expected this. “Bobby, you're about to meet Mama.”

“I am going to
kill
her.” Meghann wiped the unexpected tears from her eyes and shot to her feet. Mumbling
Excuse me
to the shell-shocked guests beside her, she sidled out of the pew and stepped into the aisle.

“There's my other girl.” Mama threw open her arms. Again the flashbulbs erupted in spasms of blinding light.

Meghann grabbed her mother by the arm and yanked her back through the doors. The paparazzi followed, all talking at once. There was one terrifying moment when Mama wobbled on her ridiculous heels and Meghann feared a California-freeway-type pileup of bodies on the red-carpeted aisle, but she tightened her grip and staved off disaster.

Through the now-closed doors, she could hear Father Tim's stumbling second attempt to pronounce Bobby and Claire husband and wife. A moment later, applause thundered through the church.

Meghann pulled Mama into the dressing room and shut the door behind them.

“What?” Mama whined, obviously unable to frown but wanting to. Too much Botox, no doubt.

A dog barked. Mama looked down at a small St. John beaded travel carrier in her arms. “It's okay, honey. Meggy's makin' a mountain out of a molehill.”

“You brought your
dog
?”

Mama pressed a hand to her ample breast. “You know Elvis hates to be left alone.”

“Mama, you haven't been alone in years. Forget whatever poor fool you're currently sleeping with, you employ three gardeners, two housekeepers, a personal assistant, and a houseboy. Certainly one of them could dog-sit.”

“I don't have to clear my lifestyle with you, Miss Meggy. Now why in the
hell
did you throw me out of my own daughter's weddin'?”

Meghann felt a surge of impotent anger. It was like dealing with a child. There was no way to make Mama understand what she'd done wrong. “You're late.”

Mama waved a hand. “Darlin', I'm a celebrity. We're
always
late.”

“Today was Claire's day to be a star. Can you get that, Mama?
Her
day. And you walked in right at the moment of glory and stole the show. What were you doing out here,
waiting
for the perfect moment to make your entrance?”

Mama looked away for just a second, but it was enough to confirm Meghann's suspicion. Her mother
had
timed her entrance. “Oh, Mama,” she said, shaking her head. “That's a new low. Even for you. And who are all those people? Do you think you need bodyguards at a wedding in Hayden?”

“You always pooh-pooh my career, but my fans are everywhere. They scare me sometimes.”

Meghann laughed at that. “Save the acting for
People
magazine, Mama.”

“Did you see the article? I looked good, don't you think?” Mama immediately went to the mirror and began checking her makeup.

“As soon as the church empties out, I'm going to talk to your entourage. They arrived in cars; they can sit in them until it's time to leave. I'll protect you from your stampeding fans.”

“Dang it, Meggy. Who'll take my picture at the weddin'? A woman my age needs filters.” Mama reached into her crystal-encrusted evening bag and pulled out a black tube of lipstick. She leaned closer to the mirror.

“Mama,” Meghann said slowly, “Claire has waited a long time for this day.”

“That's for sure. I was startin' to think she and those friends of hers were gay.” Mama snapped the lipstick shut and smiled at her reflection.

“The point is, we need to focus on
her
today. Her needs.”

Mama spun around. “Now, that hurts. When have I
ever
put my needs ahead of my children's?”

Meghann was speechless. The most amazing part of this science-fiction moment was that her mother actually believed what she just said. Meghann forced a smile. “Look, Mama, I don't want to argue with you on this special day. You and I are going to walk over to the reception and tell Claire how happy we are for her.”