“What the hell does he know? Sounds like he was bullying you. Maybe you should get a lawyer and sue his sorry ass right to hell and back. He can’t just kick you out. You paid a shitload of tuition.”
“I wish.” I jerked to the side when the person behind me, some Goth teenager in a black hoodie, bumped into me.
“Hey jerk! Watch where you’re going! I’m walking here!” he barked at me.
I shook my head, glanced at the green light and continued walking. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll figure out something. There’s got to be more to life than getting up at the crap of dawn and putting up with their bullshit.”
“That’s the spirit! Hey! We should go out tonight. Console you with multiple vodka gimlets. Alcohol therapy’s the best.”
My stomach rolled at the thought of anything other than soda crackers and maybe marshmallows... big fat, monster marshmallows on top of juicy melon chunks. Still, Cerise had a point. After the first drink, whatever vestige of a hangover I would have would disappear. Maybe those guys would be there. “I’m in. The Underground again?”
“For sure! Catch up with you there at ten-ish?”
“Absolutely! Ciao, baby!” I clicked off and headed down the stairs to the subway, leaving my cares on the street above. I could pick up some Chinese and then pass out for a few hours. If those guys were there, I wouldn’t have to worry about buying drinks.
I’d think about what I was going to do with the rest of my life tomorrow.
TWO
WHEN THE PHONE RANG THE NEXT DAY, I groaned seeing my mother’s name on the display. News traveled fast, it seemed, especially if it was bad.
“Hi Mom.” I wandered into the narrow galley kitchen, rummaging in the fridge for anything edible. This was going to be a call which required some fortification. I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder and peeled the lid from a container of yogurt.
“Keira! I just heard from Alex Morris. You were kicked out of school, again!” Her words were like bullets from a machine gun piercing my ear.
My eyes closed for a moment and I slumped down into the kitchen chair. “Yes. I showed up late and he threw me out. Can you believe that? I was doing so well and—”
“You weren’t doing well! His email contained a progress report from the instructors there. Keira, you missed fourteen classes! There’d only been fifty six at this point in the curriculum! You blew off a third of your classes!” Her voice was cutting my head in two. Hangovers two days in a row were painful.
“No! That isn’t right. Maybe I was late but I didn’t miss them entirely. He’s exaggerating. I swear, he never wanted me there. It’s—”
“Enough!” There was silence for a moment or two followed by a sharp sigh. “You need to come home. Be here tonight at six thirty.”
“Tonight’s not good. I made plans with Cerise to go to the new Star Wars movie. Maybe, on the weekend?” Actually, it was a lie but there was no way I was getting together with Mom, not until she calmed down. Give her a few days and she’d be all right.
“This isn’t a request, Keira. It’s a family meeting. Your father and I need to talk to you. And just so you know, the credit card and bank account we set up for you is canceled. I’m afraid it’s going to be a little hard for you to go out with your friends without money.”
My mouth fell open and the Kiwi yogurt slid off the spoon which was halfway to my lips. No money! Holy cow, this was serious. “You can’t do that. My name is on those accounts.”
She let out a bitter chuckle. “I just did, Keira. And another thing... pack your things. I’ve contacted your landlord and your lease is officially broken. You need to be out of there in three days time for the new tenant.”
I leapt out of the chair, striding across the kitchen. She couldn’t do this to me! “Does Dad know about this?” My words were short and clipped.
“I know.” It was my father’s low voice breaking through the blinding rage in my head.
“What? You know?” My eyes opened wide. He was my only ray of hope. Surely he’d take pity on me. I was his little girl, after all. My tone became softer, wheedling even. “Daddy, please. Give me a break, will ya? What am I going to—”
“Just be here, Keira.” His voice was followed by a soft click.
The disappointment in his voice brought tears to my eyes. Or was it the fact I’d lost him as an ally? My mother’s voice broke through once more.
“I’ll expect you at six thirty—sharp.” Sharp, just like her tone.
My jaw tightened. “Oh yeah? How am I supposed to get across town without money? Huh? How’s that gonna work out for you?”
“I don’t know or care. Walk, if you have to.” There was a click, not so gentle this time.
I tossed the phone onto the counter and my hands scraped through my hair. This couldn’t be happening! What the hell was wrong with them!
I looked around at my kitchen. Sure it was small and the countertop was ancient and cracked but it was mine! I’d put the cute little fridge magnets on the old white appliance to jazz it up. Now the yawning jaws of the hippopotamus seemed to be laughing... at me. The loopy-necked giraffe cast a knowing sneer my way. Even the sunflower on the tea towels seemed to wilt and fade.m
It had taken weeks to find this place! Even though it was a basement apartment, it was in the heart of Greenwich Village. What about the coffee shop down the block, and the organic grocery where they knew me by name?
Tears ran down my face as I went into my bed-sitting room and looked around. All of the things I’d bought to imprint me on this place would be gone soon. The bright yellow throw cushions, the blue paisley comforter, the rug from Mexico. I fell down on the oversized bed and buried my head in the plush pillows.
I hadn’t even had time to find my true calling after the acting disaster and I was being forced out? This was all my mother’s doing! I’d always been a disappointment to her. Not everyone was cut out to get an MBA like her! And she was one to talk! She didn’t even use her education! What a waste. No, she and Dad had that phony restaurant which they supposedly ran. How many people can afford a Maserati, and a home in the Upper East Side on income from a greasy spoon? It was a hobby at best.
Why did I need a job anyway? I was going to inherit their millions, some day. I should be free to pursue my own interests... like them. This was bullshit... that’s what it was. She was being totally unreasonable.
I got up and went into the kitchen for my phone. It was almost four o’clock. I only had two and a half hours to come up with a plan—something I could sell them to buy me some time to figure this out. I hit the speed dial for Cerise.
Before it connected, I hung up. She wouldn’t have any ideas which would help, who was I kidding? I headed back to my bedroom like a condemned man walking the last mile.
I let out a sigh. I needed to look presentable. The yoga pants and sweatshirt weren’t going to cut it with Mom. I rifled in my closet and found a decent silk top and jeans which were clean. I topped off my look with a conservative black wool sweater. Not my favorite, but it would have to do. I dug in my purse for any money for cab fare. I’d ride almost to the house and then walk a few blocks. Let her think I’d walked the whole way. Maybe she’d feel guilty about that one! And so she should!
I sniffed and yanked the top from the hanger.
***
The brownstone home was a sturdy sentinel standing shoulder to shoulder with its contemporaries. How many times had I bounced up the six steps and gone through that set of oak doors? The windows on each side, a cross hatch of panes topped with a stained-glass panel peered down at me, the lights inside casting a warm glow. And higher, the set on the right-hand side on the second floor where my room was, now darkly curtained.
I gave a couple of raps and then used my key to enter, leaving the freedom of the street behind. Taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders, I called, “Mom? Dad? I’m here.” I was right on time and slightly sweaty from the walk, a fact I hoped wouldn’t go unnoticed.
My mother was the first to step into the hallway near the door, her feet soundless on the marble floor. Blue eyes, like hard sapphires pierced me, peering from an ivory, smooth complexion, her ruby lips a tight unsmiling line. Her arms folded over her chest and she paused. She was a rock of granite standing straight in her Armani top and tailored pants.
My heart slowed somewhat when I saw Dad appear behind her, still in his golf shirt. He towered over her five-foot frame, with an athletic ease but she was the real power in that marriage. He managed a smile and stepped forward to kiss my forehead.
“Hi Keira. Thanks for coming.”
I looked up at him through my eyelashes and gave a short nod. As if I had a choice on being there. “Hi Daddy.” This was the term I used when I was really in Dutch and needed him on my side. When he looped his arm over my shoulder, drawing me in and steering me down the hallway, it showed some kind of promise.
“We’ll have dinner in a little while. First, we need to talk.” Mom spun on her heels and strode into the living room.
This was a bad sign right from the start. Normally, she’d lead the way into the kitchen, puttering and making me something to eat or drink. The fact we were meeting in the living room, like I was some kind of sales person or something, wasn’t good. It would take all of my persuasive skills to turn her around this time.
They were already seated side by side on the Chippendale sofa. I sat in one of the two matching chairs facing them. The battle lines were drawn.
“Keira.”
My face was a mask, waiting for my mother’s opening salvo. I kept my hands clasped together on my lap, so they wouldn’t notice the slight tremble there.
“It seems academic life isn’t for you.” Her eyes flashed to Dad’s and she continued. “Have you got anything to say for yourself?”
I kept my face impassive. “I think Mr. Morris was being unfair. I actually liked acting when I got a chance in class.” It wasn’t my best comeback but I wanted to see where this was heading.
“Well, you see, if you actually attended class the way you were supposed to, then perhaps you could have developed that talent.” Mom leaned forward and laced her fingers together on her knees.
“Maybe another school... maybe one where I could take evening classes? I could get a job.” Already, I could see it. I’d work in a boutique and get discounts on clothes and cosmetics. Evening classes could work. At least I wouldn’t have to get up at ungodly hours.
“To get a job, you need to show up, Keira—something that’s not really in your forte. As far as evening classes... how well did that work out for you in the photography course? Or even in the social worker classes? The only job you’ve ever had was in the dry cleaning store and you couldn’t even keep that!” A line formed between her manicured eyebrows and her nostrils flared. Yep, Mom was pissed.
“One personal call on my phone and the old bat running the place had a conniption. She just didn’t—”
“Keira!” Dad hunched forward and slapped the table in front of me.
I jerked back, staring at him with wide eyes. He never lost his temper. I’d never seen him do anything like that before.
“Your mother and I are concerned for you. Believe it or not, we don’t enjoy this any more than you do! But, something’s got to be done. You’re like a leaf floating in the breeze without purpose or direction. You’re twenty-three and you’ve never held a job, never completed any course except high school and you squeaked by on that. It’s not brains. You’ve got plenty of that! You just don’t have discipline.” He sighed, but what was worse was the look he shot Mom. He looked defeated.
Mom leaned forward and placed her hand on my knee. A film of tears covered her eyes. “We have a plan for you. You’re going to visit your grandmother in Canada.”
I looked at Dad. “When did Grandma move to Canada?”
“No,” Dad said, “not Grandma.”
“It’s my mother. “ Mom spoke softly
“Your mother? But isn’t she dead?” I gave my head a shake. “You told me she was dead. You said she passed away years ago...”
Mom looked away. “I lied.”
THREE
“THIS ISN’T VERY FUNNY, Mom. What kind of stupid joke is this?”
Dad was the first to break the silence. “We’re serious, Keira.”
I stared at my mother as if seeing her for the first time. In all the years I’d known this woman, there’d never been any talk of her mother. When I’d asked about her parents, she’d led me to believe they were dead, and that it was a painful subject she’d rather not talk about. And now, the truth was out.
“Wait a minute. This is the first I hear about my grandmother and you expect me to just up and leave, go to another country to live with a woman I never even knew existed! Are you on drugs?” My heart was going ninety miles an hour and it was all I could do to just sit there. I wanted to throw something at her—at them, for springing this on me now, of all times, when my life was in tatters!
“Keira! That’ll be enough. Don’t talk to your mother with that tone of voice.” He put his arm around Mom and pulled her close. “This is hard on her as well.”
A tear trickled from the corner of her eyes and she sniffed. “Look, I’m sorry I never told you about your grandmother. There were reasons, which I’m not going to get into with you right now.” She patted Dad’s knee and continued, “She lives in Kingston, a small city just north of the border. She sent me a telegram and—”
“What the hell is a telegram?”
Ignoring me, she sighed. “She needs someone to assist her. It’s her health.” Her hands rose to swipe the tears which welled in her eyes.
Part of me wanted to reach out to comfort her but I was shell-shocked from all this. “But why don’t you go? It’s your mother, after all!”
“She specifically asked for you, Keira.”
I continued staring at my mother. “How does she even know about me? I mean, I’ve never even met her. She never once visited or sent a card on my birthday. Why me, right out of the blue?”
Mom was openly crying now which only made me more confused. She was taking this revelation pretty hard. Wait a minute. I’m the one who had been lied to for twenty-three years. I should be the one crying! What the hell was going on here?
While I stared at her, Dad got up and strode over to the liquor cabinet. “Anyone else need a drink?” The clink of the bottle against the glass followed.
Mom blew her nose and then pocketed the used tissue before taking the brandy which Dad extended to her before he sat back down. “She knows all about you, Keira.”
“What? How?”
Mom’s face took on a new shade of guilt and she looked at Dad. “I told her all about you.”
“When?”
Mom smiled wanly. “On my seasonal shopping trips with my girlfriends.”
I closed my eyes and held out my hand. “Wait. You mean you and your bunch of friends who go on shopping trips four times a year? Your ‘Four Seasons’ gang?” Now I was starting to get mad. “You and your girlfriends would go and visit your mother? But you wouldn’t take me?” I stared at her. “You know, that’s pretty heinous.”
“Take it easy, Keira,” Dad said. He leaned forward on the couch and put a hand on my knee. “There never was a ‘Four Seasons’ club. It was a ruse to enable your mom to get out for a few days every few months without raising your suspicion.”
The Haunting of Crawley House (The Hauntings Of Kingston Book 1) Page 28
