Cloudburst (31 page)

“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.”

“How did he do that? Don't tell me he's going to parent-teacher conferences. He was never around to do much of that for me.”

“No, he bumped into Dr. Steiner.”

“Really. How is old Dr. Steiner? Talk about a stick-in-the-mud. She has a stick up you know where.”

“She's been nice to me,” I said.

“I guess so, if she's bragging about you.”

Something in her expression and tone of voice warned me against mentioning the necklace just yet. But she continued to stare hard at me, waiting for more.

“Don't you have something else to tell me about my father?” she asked. It suddenly occurred to me that Jordan might have told her.

“He bought me a present to celebrate my high school grades, if that's what you mean,” I said, trying my best to make it sound like nothing. “I told him it was too soon. I could still not be the valedictorian.”

“A present? My mother thought it was quite beautiful and expensive. How come you didn't tell me about it before this?” she asked, but before I could try to come up with an answer, she gave it. “You thought I would be jealous, upset?”

“Yes,” I confessed.

“He's bought me plenty of expensive things. I'm not jealous as much as I'm surprised. When they bought you that car, I was amazed, but then I realized these things are so minor to my parents. We're so rich.” She laughed. “I don't blame you for getting as much as you can.”

“I'm not. I didn't ask for the car or for the necklace or anything.”

“You're like me. You don't ask in so many words.”

“I don't understand. How do we ask, then?”

“Forget about it,” she said sharply. “None of that is important now. Cars, jewelry, expensive vacations are just taken for granted among the girls at this school. No one would be impressed if you drove up in that car and you were wearing the necklace.”

“Where did all of your friends go for the weekend? I thought I might meet some of them.”

“Oh, for what?” she said. “I just told you that they're a bunch of spoiled rich kids. You don't need to meet any more of them. You have me.”

“What about the girls you went to Europe with?”

“What about them?”

“You hardly mention them anymore.”

“They're all . . . jealous of me and Richard now. Isn't that the way with your plain-looking girlfriends, too, back in Pacifica? My girlfriends don't want to hear or know about my good times, so they deliberately avoid me.”

“It's not that way back at Pacifica. They're constantly asking questions, but I try not to make them jealous,” I said, and sat on the chair by the small desk.

“That's you, not me. You're more considerate. Oh, I don't want to talk about girls!” she cried, looking like someone with a mouthful of sour milk. “I want to talk about Ryder Garfield. What have you done with him? What sort of dates? Where have you gone? What kind of lover is he?”