The Long Road Home (22 page)

So John had left, gone back to New York. She shouldn’t be surprised. It was what she expected, now wasn’t it? So why did it hurt so much? But she already knew the answer. She loved him and had never stopped loving him. Plain and simple.

Clarisse tried to act as if she didn’t have a care in the world. During the drive to Seattle and her parent’s home, she expressed a wonder at the countryside and the city itself, but she knew she wasn’t deceiving anyone. Even though her mother and father kept silent, she read the concern in their eyes.

At least taking care of Toto occupied a portion of her mind, and his unconditional love soothed her. But still, Clarisse could not snap out of her melancholy.

And watching television all day surely didn’t help, Clarisse admitted, while sitting in her parent’s living room staring at a news program. It just numbed the brain, not the heart.

The telephone rang on the table by her elbow. Her gaze still latched to the screen, she fumbled for the phone. “Hmm?”

“Have you seen it?” Laura asked abruptly.

“Seen what?”

Carrying a sack of groceries, Glenda entered the living room. Clarisse frowned at her mother’s sickly complexion.

“Your picture of course.”

“What picture?” Clarisse asked tersely, watching her mother pull a magazine from the sack.

“What picture?” Laura’s disgust came through over the line. “Oh, for goodness sakes! You don’t even have a clue. Its splashed over every magazine rack in the country!”

As Glenda turned the magazine, Clarisse caught sight of the tabloid’s cover. The phone dropped from her grasp. With bumbling fingers, she managed to pick it up.

“Talk to you later.” Gaze still locked to the cover’s photo, she hung up and whispered, “Let me see.”

“It was such a shock standing in line at the grocery store and seeing your picture and the headline.” Glenda held it out with a shaky hand. “I want to warn you, it’s a nasty piece of journalism.”

Eyes fixed on the front page, Clarisse lowered it to her lap. She was sitting on the fence with the Grand Canyon in the background, looking at the camera with a serious, almost haunted expression.

She sucked in air as she read the caption. “Claire threatens to jump.” Flipping through the pages, she found the story and another photo similar to the last. “Sources tell us that former top model, Claire, is suicidal after being heavily scarred by burns. She disappeared from the public eye three years ago after a plane crash disfigured—”

Unable to read on, she rose from the chair and closed her eyes, dropping the tabloid by her feet. Bile rose to her throat. One of her worse fears had materialized. Feeling her mother’s arms around her, she bit back a sob. It cut deeply to have her life splashed across the country. And intermixed with such flagrant lies!

“It’ll pass,” Glenda whispered, squeezing her hard. “Given time. It will.”

Swallowing with difficulty, Clarisse nodded. “Suing would just make matters worse.”

“I can’t believe John would—”

Clarisse shook her head. “He didn’t. He wouldn’t do something so cruel.” She knew of only one person who could be so vindictive.

Glenda drew away and tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Of course.” She smiled shakily. “Like you said, ‘it’ll pass.’“

“I need to get these groceries put away. The ice cream will melt.” Glenda hesitated. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t shatter.”

Her mother disappeared into the kitchen. Clarisse restrained the urge to fling the tabloid across the room. Revenge. It would be so sweet. But going after Vivian would not undo the damage. And she just wasn’t the type.

The phone’s shrill ring jarred her nerves. It echoed inside her head until she could take it no longer. “Yes?”

“Is anything wrong?” Laura asked. “I was afraid to call back just in case of a crisis. I never had a chance to explain.”

“You don’t need to. Mom showed me the magazine.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe John—”

“Like I told Mom, John didn’t do this,” Clarisse retorted a little too impatiently. “It’s Vivian. She must have stolen his film from the trip.”

“Oh. I should have realized with the way she behaved at the reception.” Laura sighed. “So what are you going to do?”

“Do? Probably keep a low profile and wait until it blows over.”

“Aren’t you going to ask John how Vivian got hold of his photos?”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Clarisse! Listen to me, will you?”

“Oh, no. I hear one of your speeches coming on,” Clarisse retorted.

“I’m going to ignore that. You’re not thinking, which is understandable. Otherwise, you would have realized this is your excuse to see him again and try to straighten things out between you. But if you don’t hurry, you’ll lose your chance. And you won’t have another.”

“What makes you think I want a chance?” Irrationally, Clarisse felt a small glimmer of hope blossom within her breast.

“Because you care. Always have. You’ve never been able to completely let go. Your feelings are written on your face. At least everyone in the family can see it.” A sigh rippled across the line. “And I know it’s mutual. The man literally drools over you when he thinks no one’s looking.”

“And how do you propose I get to New York? Fly?” She laughed bitterly.

“If it’s important enough, you’ll get on a plane. But do it quickly. Vivian’s out there with him, and after all, he is only human with needs and wants like any other.”

“I don’t know...”

“You still don’t have the confidence in yourself to go after what you want, do you?” Laura didn’t wait for an answer. “And that’s a shame. You’re the only one who can change the image of yourself. I can’t, John can’t. No one can, but you. Think about that. What do you have to lose, other than a little bruised pride? At least you’ll never ask yourself ‘what if?’.”

Laura’s words vibrated through her head as she hung up.
What if?
Did she dare take a chance? She could be safe and let pride keep her in Seattle. But pride did not warm your heart, hold you at night or kiss your tears away.

The next morning, her stomach cramping with nerves, Clarisse called the airline and reserved a seat on the next available flight to New York.

“I just hope I don’t regret this.” Packing her clothing into her suitcase, she eyed Toto sprawled atop the bed. “And as for you, my fine, furry friend, you’re not going to have a fun time. Being stuck in the belly of a plane won’t be to your liking, but I’m afraid that’s what happens when you’re a dog.”

She snapped her suitcase closed and straightened her shoulders. Tongue lolling, Toto watched her from beneath his shaggy brows. “Hey, boy? Are you ready to go on an adventure?” Toto’s tail dusted the bedspread. “All I have to do is say good-bye to Mom and Dad, and we’re on our way.”

Her heart fluttered wildly. Once she stepped on that plane there was no going back. She would be trapped in the air, thousands of feet above the ground, her life in the hands of strangers. Her palms turned clammy.

What was she getting herself into? And what if John refused to talk to her after flying across the country to see him? She hadn’t taken a chance in a long time, and this one scared the hell out of her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The engines throbbed into the chair and up through every pore of Clarisse’s body. She gripped the armrest and forced herself to focus on the seat in front of her. From somewhere, a loud whine rose over the noise of the engines and scraped against her nerves. Digging her fingers deeper into the armrest, she summoned enough courage to glance outside and see the wing’s flaps slide into position. She swallowed convulsively.

In only a matter of minutes, she would be in the air.

Why was she putting herself through this unadulterated terror? It was insanity...absolute insanity. And it was all because of love, an emotion that made intelligent people act like idiots.

Oh, but it all might be worth it, another voice argued. It could mean a second chance with John. Oh, but the fear. It stole the breath from her, drained what little control she had.

“Are you all right, dear?”

Not realizing her lids were squeezed shut, Clarisse cracked them open and squinted at an elderly woman in the adjoining seat. Clarisse attempted to swallow, but couldn’t get enough moisture in her throat to complete the act. “I’ll be doing much better after takeoff.”

Smiling, she patted Clarisse’s hand. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. I’m sure you’ve heard, you’re more likely to get struck by lightning than crash in a plane.”

Seeing the landscape inching forward, Clarisse could only nod, her voice somehow cemented to her throat. She tried to convince herself that the odds of being in another plane crash were almost non-existent.

“Breathing into a paper bag might help...” The words drifted to her from somewhere far away. “Then maybe not. Here. Give me your hand.”

With amazing strength for someone so fragile, she pried Clarisse fingers from the armrest. The warmth of her hand seeped into Clarisse’s skin, and the touch, simple and unassuming, comforted her.

Until she glanced out the window; the ground rushed by with alarming speed. The airplane gathered even more momentum, tilting skyward and lifting off the runway. Stomach rolling, Clarisse fought against the panic crushing in on her.

Once airborne, she gained some semblance of control—at least enough to comprehend how tightly she was gripping the woman’s fingers. Chagrined, Clarisse let go. “I hope I didn’t break any bones Mrs.? I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Henrietta. And I’m in one piece. See?” She flexed her fingers. “And if you haven’t noticed, we’re above the clouds. Now that wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No, not at all.”

“Liar.” Henrietta chuckled. “Just think positive. You have half the battle over with. It’s just landing now that you have to deal with. And if you need any help, I’m right beside you.”

And much to Clarisse’s dismay, she again ended up holding Henrietta’s hand as they descended. This time, she restrained herself from squeezing all the blood from the woman’s fingers.

“Thank you for putting up with a paranoid passenger.” Clarisse sighed with relief as the tires rolled across the runway and slowed to a crawl.

Henrietta patted her hand. “Think nothing of it.”

When Clarisse stepped from the plane and into the airport, her legs trembled beneath her like two brittle twigs. With trepidation, she watched Henrietta leave. Henrietta might be the only smiling face she encountered today, because she didn’t think John would be beaming when she showed up at his house.

Still in somewhat of a daze, she claimed her luggage and peered inside the animal carrier to find Toto hunched and frozen in one corner. “Oh Toto! You poor thing. It looks like a crazed taxidermist got their hands on you. Not to worry. I’ll get you home in one piece.”

It was a relief to reach her neighborhood and glimpse the familiar landmarks, the church on the corner, the children playing in the sprinklers. As the taxi drew nearer, she saw two unfamiliar cars parked on the street by her house and frowned. Then suddenly she understood. Reporters. Of course. That story in the tabloid. News for the week must be slow for them to be crawling from the sewers and hanging around her house. Oh, but they were going to be disappointed when they didn’t get their scoop.

But how had they found her address? She shook her head as the realization struck. Who else but Vivian?

As the taxi pulled into the driveway they jumped from their cars. Only two. A good sign. She should be rid of them in minutes. After all, she was no longer big news.

Quickly, she feathered her blonde her from her brow and hoped there were no unsightly smudges on her face. Touching her heated cheeks, she suspected a dark flush stained them, caused, no doubt, by high blood pressure. It was amazing she hadn’t had a heart attack during the flight.

After paying the driver, she stepped from the car with Toto and was hit by a bombardment of questions. “Is it true you tried to jump to your death at the Grand Canyon? Have you attempted suicide before? Is this your cry for help? Are you disfigured that badly?”

Smiling with effort, Clarisse looked at the taller of the two. His clothing hung loosely over his lanky, but stooped frame. “As you can see, I’m doing fine. And as to the attempted suicide, all you have to do is check with park officials at the Grand Canyon. They’ll tell you I never threatened to jump.”

She managed to cross the yard and reach the front door before she being hit with another question. “How badly scarred are you?” The other man, plump and pallid, followed her up the stairs to the porch. “Is it true that you were burned over eighty-percent of your body?”

“Do I look like I’m burnt over eighty-percent of my body?” Clarisse laughed, surprised at finding humor in the situation. “I was burned in a plane crash.” She knew the truth was easier than any form of fiction. “But it’s just my leg. And not all of it at that.”

Smiling, she escaped inside and watched from the window until they drove off. How strange to have it all out in the open. She felt freer than she had in years, almost as if a parasite had been pried loose from her back. Then she thought of John, and she didn’t feel so carefree. She felt more like she was about to lose the contents of her stomach.