The girls looked at one another.
“Do you feel better, Clara?” Beatrice asked releasing Clara’s hands. Her eyes were large and round and expectant. Clara knew Beatrice needed her to say “yes.”
“Yes, Bea. Thank you.”
Clara went back to her room. She lay in bed thinking she should feel better. She had talked to God, and for some reason, she thought she should feel a peace about that. She thought she should hear him say something to her, guide her in the right direction, or at least give her a hint. She waited, but the fear still lingered in her chest. The peace was not there. God’s voice did not echo in her room.
She thought that maybe God expected her to discover the solution to her problem on her own, and that was why he was silent. She searched her brain remembering a woman she saw once when she was riding in the car with her mother. It was years ago, and they were traveling down a street in downtown Baltimore and had come to a stop at the intersection. Clara saw the lady wrapped in a skin tight red dress and sporting tall heels. She hung around the intersection, head swiveling from side to side as though she were searching for someone.
“Is she looking for a ride?” Clara asked her mother.
“Something like that,” her mother replied.
Chapter 10
“Happy birthday, Clara!” Beatrice squealed running into her sister’s arms.
“Thank you, Bea,” Clara said hugging her.
She wondered, though, how happy turning seventeen really was. For any normal teenager not experiencing her trials, turning seventeen was probably a big event. They would most likely go out to eat. Definitely celebrate with a birthday cake decorated with those twisty yellow, blue, and pink candles she loved. And she was positive there’d be a few special gifts. Clara’s gift came folded in an envelope marked “Dated Documents Enclosed.” A few days after receiving the letter, she treated herself to an emissions test and new car tag. Happy fucking birthday, she thought as she looked at the ten dollars remaining in her checking account.
“I did a good thing and a bad thing for your birthday,” Beatrice said.
Clara furrowed her brows.
“Remember that money you told me to spend at the movies on my ticket and snacks?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes,” Clara replied.
“Well, Josey’s mom paid for everything, so I kept the money to buy you a birthday present,” Beatrice said. “Are you mad? I know I probably should have given it back to you to pay a bill or something.”
Clara couldn’t believe her instant tears and averted her eyes to hide them from Beatrice. She walked over to her book bag and pretended to look for something.
“I’m not mad,” she said quietly. “But you didn’t have to do that, Bea.”
“I wanted to, Clare-Bear,” Beatrice said. “It’s your birthday!” she squealed again. “And in addition to your present, I have another surprise for you.”
Clara wiped surreptitiously at her face and took a deep breath. “You do, huh?”
“Mmhmm,” Beatrice replied. “When do you get off of work today?”
“I’m only working until six thirty,” Clara said. She grabbed her car keys along with her purse and book bag.
“Perfect,” Beatrice said excitedly.
“Would you like me to drive you to school today?” Clara offered.
“Nope,” Beatrice said. “I’m taking the bus. And yes, Clara, I’ll remember to lock up.”
Clara still wasn’t used to Beatrice riding the bus home from school and letting herself into their house. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to it, Beatrice having her own house key like she was a little adult. It didn’t matter that she acted like one. She was still a child. Clara worried on the days she worked late, with Beatrice all alone in the dark, candlelit house. She made Beatrice go over a safety plan with her, making sure she was in the house before dark and keeping all of the doors locked until Clara got home. Several times Clara came home to no one. The first time it happened, she went out of her mind with panic until she saw Beatrice skipping across the street back to their house from visiting with Ms. Debbie.
“Jesus Christ, Bea!” Clara screamed at her that night. “Tell me when you’re not going to be here!”
“I’m sorry Clara,” Beatrice replied hurt. “I go to Ms. Debbie’s house all the time.”
“That’s fine,” Clara said exhausted from worry. “Just tell me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And answer your phone,” Clara snapped.
“Okay, Clara.”
Clara checked the time on her cell phone. If she left now, she could still make it to school for breakfast. She looked over at Beatrice.
“Do not be late for school,” she said.
“Am I ever late for school, Clara?” Beatrice asked. She stood with her hands on her hips.
“And lock the door when you leave,” Clara reminded her.
Beatrice let out a loud, dramatic sigh. “And call you if I’m going to be at Ms. Debbie’s. And lock the doors if I’m going to be home alone. And don’t light the fire in the fireplace. And don’t do anything but stand perfectly still until you get home.”
“Precisely,” Clara said grinning, and walked over to kiss Beatrice’s forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too, birthday girl!” Beatrice said, then ran to her room to change into her school clothes.
***
Clara scooped another forkful of scrambled eggs as she sat reading her latest library book. She wanted to try something completely different and opted for a memoir. She had a hard time finding an essay in the book that didn’t make her burst out laughing. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself and realized that she might not be able to read this particular book at school. She turned the book over and read the top review: “Sidesplitting”—The New York Times Book Review. Now why didn’t I notice that before? she thought.
“Do you have that list for me yet?” Evan asked approaching her. He never came to school for breakfast, and she couldn’t understand why he was there now.
“List?” she asked looking up from her essay.