Texas Blues

by Ashley Quinn

  “But she’s my daughter,” Vince reminded her gently.

  “And this is my wedding,” Diane retorted. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to tell her tomorrow morning that she won’t be the flower girl on Saturday. It’s for the best.”

  London remembered sitting in a white chair in a row about five back from the ceremony. She swallowed as realization hit that the memory hurt just as much at thirty-two years old as it did when she was six.

  “Tiffany can’t possibly be as bad as Diane,” London muttered to herself as she switched off her computer. She bit back a smile as she thought about Tiffany’s work history in second- and third-world countries. “I bet that just kills Diane.” Her father and Diane had divorced about three years ago and London knew her ex-stepmother resided in Dallas. Now that’s one person I don’t want to see.

  London listened to the front door open and close. Tiffany is back from the baby shower she realized. She startled as her phone jangled loudly with an incoming FaceTime call in the quiet of the still room. She grinned as Holly’s name popped onto the screen and grabbed her phone to accept the video call.

  “Hey, London!” Holly’s voice echoed excitedly through the speaker. London could see that Holly was seated at her dining room table, a tall China cabinet looming behind her. “How’s your first day in Texas?”

  London tried to force her biggest smile but faltered. “It’s, um, it’s good,” she hedged. “I’ve been busy editing the copy for Westchester Solutions’ new website so I haven’t been up to much yet...”

  Holly sighed and directed a disapproving look into the camera. “London, I can tell you’re lying,” she replied. “And I appreciate you getting a head start on your work, but this is your time. You’re technically on vacation from W.H. Young, so that means relax.”

  London bit her lip uncertainly. “Fine,” she replied. “It’s horrible. I’m rethinking this. I snapped at a woman who was delivering baked goods to the house. And to say that Tiffany and I have gotten off on the wrong foot would be the understatement of the century. I think this was a bad idea and I should go home.”

  Holly raised an eyebrow. “London, you haven’t even been there for twenty-four hours. You’re tired, you’re in a totally new environment and your nerves are shot. I’m not saying snapping at strangers is excusable, but give yourself a break. You and your sister haven’t seen each other in over a decade. Put yourself in her shoes. This whole thing is probably just as strange to her.”

  London sighed heavily. “Half-sister,” she muttered. “I just...I don’t even know how to relate to her! We’re so different. We don’t know each other.”

  Holly shrugged. “You just have to do it,” she replied. “Put yourself out there and start trying. If there’s any hope of you two connecting, she has to feel comfortable with you too.”

  “I know,” London admitted. “I know that I need to try too.”

  “Anyway, did you download the Instagram app?” Holly asked. “It’s the best way to share photos of your trip in real-time.”

  London rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Yes, I did,” she admitted. “I even shared my first picture. Well, at least I think I did. I tried to post a photo of the sky as the plane was landing. I captioned it ‘I don’t know what I’m doing, but my best friend made me download this app so here’s a picture of some cool-looking clouds.’”

  Holly snorted. “You did not!” She exclaimed. “I’m going to search for you and start following right now.”

  “I did,” London replied with a mock-serious nod. “Hashtag forced onto social media. Hashtag hi Holly.”

  Holly snickered again and shook her head at the camera. “Clever. So how’s the weather there?”

  “Hot...” London started. She paused as a dark shadow moved in the far corner of the bedroom. It darted up to the space where the wall met ceiling. “...But what the hell is that?”

  “What’s what?” Holly asked in confusion.

  “I...” London squinted in the darkness and then widened her eyes. The shadow moved a few centimeters across the wall. “Oh my God, it’s a spider! Holly, there’s a huge spider in the corner!”

  She jumped from her seated position on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. “I hate spiders,” she went on as her panic rose. “They’re creepy and big and sneaky...”

  London could hear Holly’s sigh from where she’d dropped her phone onto the mattress. “London, just kill it.”

  She refused to take her eyes off the shadow. “It’s in an awkward spot,” she replied defensively. “And it’s huge. I can see it as clear as day from across the room.”

  “London...” Holly started.

  She darted to the bed and grabbed her phone. “I’m sorry, I have to cut this short,” she apologized, not tearing her eyes from the spider. “It’s an emergency. I’ll call soon.”

  As London ended the video call, she quickly reviewed her small list of options for dealing with the eight-legged intruder. I could kill it, like Holly said she thought with a shudder. But the odds of me actually killing it and not just throwing a shoe and then running away screaming are slim to none. She ran a hand through her messy hair in distress. Tiffany she realized. She’s the only one here. She’s my only hope. Great. She’ll probably tell me to go shove it.

  London watched as the spider crawled a few more centimeters across the wall. She couldn’t take it anymore. “Tiffany!” She shouted. “Are you home? Come quick!”

  She listened as uncertain footsteps climbed the stairs and then paused. “Tiffany!” She tried again. “Hurry!”

  Finally, the bedroom door swung open and her sister stood in the frame with a frown. Soft light from the hallway pooled around her and poured into the bedroom.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked. London detected both notes of irritation and concern in her voice. “Is everything okay?”

  London pointed at the corner nearest her sister. “That...” she started in a low voice. “...is not okay.”

  Tiffany’s eyes followed her finger and she crossed her arms. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  “The spider!” London exclaimed. “The giant spider! I’m terrified. Can you maybe...kill it?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Tiffany asked flatly. She scrunched her nose. “Don’t you have spiders in Chicago?”

  “Not that size!” London protested. She balled up her fists in fear as her short fingernails dug into her palms.

  “That little thing?” Tiffany went on. “Geez, London, if you think that’s big then I don’t know how you would handle Africa or Cambodia.”

  London gritted her teeth. “Please,” she continued desperately. “I have a big fear of them.”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes but London could tell she was holding back a grin. She’s enjoying this way too much she thought.

  She watched carefully as Tiffany removed one of her canvas slip-on shoes and climbed onto a desk chair. London let out a squeak as Tiffany smashed the spider with a single pound. She hopped off the chair and picked the lifeless spider in her bare hand from where it had fallen onto the carpet.

  “You're...You’re going to flush that, right?” London asked worriedly.

  Tiffany laughed and then winked at her. “No, I’m going to bury him in the backyard with a tiny tombstone that reads ‘Rest in peace, spider. Sorry my sister is such a wimp.’”

  London tried to keep a straight face, but her mouth twitched with the absurdity of it all. Maybe it was because she’d had a long, tiring day or because she was relieved the spider was dead, but she burst into laughter. Soon, Tiffany joined her and they were both in near hysterics at opposite ends of the bedroom.

  As their raucous laughter subsided, a questioning silence settled over the room. What now? London wondered.

  Tiffany smiled and nodded once at the dead spider still in her palm. “I’ll dispose of him,” she said. “Good night, London.”

  London opened her mouth to speak as Tiffany gently closed the bedroom door be
hind her. A few seconds later, she heard the unmistakable flush of a toilet. She took a deep breath and realized there was one thing she had forgotten to do.

  Carefully, London cracked the bedroom door open and padded down the hallway. She paused outside the bathroom and peeked in the half-open door. Tiffany’s back was to her and London watched silently as she unscrewed an orange prescription bottle and picked out an oblong orange and white pill. Tiffany popped it into her mouth, tilted her head back and took a long sip of water.

  “I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you,” London started uncertainly.

  Tiffany turned and blinked. “Oh!” She fumbled the bottle in her hand and placed it quickly on the counter. “I didn’t know you were there. I thought you were planning to stay in the guest bedroom forever.”

  London shook her head. “Thank you for killing that spider,” she went on. Her gaze fell on the prescription bottle and she struggled to make out the tiny print on its white label. “I appreciate it. I wouldn't have been able to sleep knowing it was in the room with me.”

  Tiffany grinned. “No big deal, London,” she replied. “You can loosen up, you know. I’m sure Chicago is a lot different, but you’ll fall in love with Texas. There’s a certain hospitality, a charm here that you don’t get many places.” She shrugged. “It’s home.”

  London nodded and glanced at the plastic bottle again. Tiffany followed her gaze and quickly shoved it into the pocket of her white linen pants. “Adderall,” she replied after a moment. “It’s what keeps me awake enough to fly overnight from Seoul and then co-host my best friend’s baby shower, what gave me enough energy to teach English every day to 30 seven-year olds and what balances me out.”

  London raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was for people with A.D.H.D.,” she responded carefully. “If it has that effect on you, then you probably don’t have it. Is that prescribed to you?”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she went on. “The doctor made a mistake and gave me a higher dosage than I normally receive. But it’s fine,” she paused and waved a hand. “I’ll let him know when I get my refill.”

  London nodded once, not entirely convinced. She didn’t remember her father saying anything about Tiffany having any type of attention deficit disorder. But who am I to say anything to her? She thought. One day in, and I’m suddenly going to play the concerned big sister role? Yeah, right.

  “Well, good night,” London said, deciding to let it go. “Thank you again.”

  Tiffany looked at her for a long moment and bit her lip. “No problem,” she replied. “I’m sorry about your mom,” she paused and then continued. “I can’t imagine the pain you must have felt. I sent a card and a bouquet of flowers, did you ever get them?”

  London opened her mouth and then nodded. “Yes, thanks,” she murmured. “They were beautiful. Really. I appreciated it very much.”

  Tiffany grinned again and turned back to the bathroom mirror. “I’m glad. Good night.”

  London took a few steps down the hall and then, on second thought, turned back to the bathroom. “Hey, Tiffany?”

  “Yeah?” She raised her voice over the sound of the sink.

  “Do you think I should apologize to Natalie?” London asked, feeling foolish for the question. “It’s been eating at me all day for some reason. She seemed upset.”

  Tiffany pursed her lips. “Well, you did practically bite her head off just for doing her job.”

  London nodded and then turned again. “I guess that answers my question,” she said with a deep breath. “You know, I wasn’t always like this. Believe me, I know what you and everyone else thinks. I’m cold, I come off rude and arrogant, I’m jaded, I’m a bitch, I’m...” she paused to catch her breath. “I’m trying to get back to who I really am.”

  She refused to meet Tiffany’s gaze. She didn’t want to see pity or sympathy in her kind eyes. London froze when she felt Tiffany jerk her into an enveloping hug.

  “It’ll be okay, London,” she reassured her softly. “I swear it. And you know what? Fuck what me or anyone else thinks. Your opinion about you is the one that matters.”

  London blew out her breath. “Mine isn’t very positive either.”

  Tiffany shook her head slowly and smiled at her. “Try to relax while you’re here,” she offered. “Forget about Chicago, step back and get outside of your bubble. Experience things, enjoy the days and I promise you’ll start to heal.”

  As London wandered back to the guest room, she marveled at Tiffany’s open heart. She didn’t have to comfort me just now. She didn’t have to kill that spider either. Why doesn’t she hate me?

  It wasn’t until London closed the door behind her that she realized she had resented Tiffany for much of her life. It was simpler to assume she’d turn out just like a mini-Diane and it was easy to write her off London thought as she unzipped her suitcase and took out her neatly folded pajamas. But she’s not like her mother at all. She feels almost like a sister. Well, half-sister. How does she have the ability to forgive so quickly?

  Guilt bubbled up in London’s chest as she settled beneath the thick comforter. She had the sneaking realization that she had been just as dismissive of Tiffany throughout the years as their father had been of her.

  A single thought flashed through her mind as sleep took over. I need to remember how to forgive too.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Wake up, come on!” Tiffany exclaimed. “I come bearing gifts. I made you some coffee.”

  London cracked one eyelid open and groaned as the younger girl bounced onto the guest bed with a smile. She is way too chipper for Monday morning.

  “Dad called earlier to check in, but I told him you were still asleep,” Tiffany went on matter-of-factly. She held out a glass travel cup filled with steaming dark brown liquid. “He suggested taking you to get a car at Enterprise this morning. That way, you can actually get out and explore if you wanted. His Tesla is in the garage, but I’m sure you’ll want your own car...”

  London struggled to sit up and begrudgingly accepted the coffee. She took a long sip before blinking. “Did you talk to your doctor about your prescription yet?”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Very funny,” she replied. “I’m glad you have such a fantastic sense of humor in the mornings. Especially after I slaved over a hot...cappuccino machine to make this amazing coffee.”

  London took another long sip and exhaled. “I prefer to ease my way out of bed in the mornings,” she said coolly. “Instead of someone bursting into the room and jumping on the bed.”

  “My internal clock is so screwed after hopping all those time zones,” Tiffany admitted. “I have a lunch date in downtown Dallas with my mom. I need Adderall to deal with her. She was livid when I left U.N.T. and now she’s hoping that I’ll go back to school and finish my degree.”

  London nearly spat out her coffee. “You dropped out of college?”

  Her sister sighed and played with a loose thread on the comforter. “I prefer to think of it as voluntarily taking a leave of absence, but yes. That’s one way of saying it.”

  London wrinkled her nose. “And you were at the University of North Texas? I thought your mom was on the Board at...What school was it?”

  “Texas Christian University,” Tiffany answered automatically. “And no thank you. Besides the obvious fact that I wanted to attend a secular school, there was no way that I was accepting a free ride just because my mom is on the Board of Directors. I wanted to do it my own way, so I moved to Denton instead.”

  “And what happened?” London asked curiously. The coffee was hot and strong and she found she was enjoying listening to her half-sister’s tales of rebellion. Maybe we’re more alike than I thought.

  Tiffany shrugged. “I was there for two years and didn’t like it,” she answered honestly. “It felt stifling. Like...” She sighed. “Have you ever felt that everything was spinning out of control and the walls were closing in on you?”

  London blinked in surprise. She
just described the last year or so of my life. “Yes,” she replied carefully.

  “So you can understand,” Tiffany continued. “How can anyone possibly expect a twenty-year old to pick a career path for the rest of their life? There’s a big world out there.” She smiled. “So I left. I’ve spent the last year and a half on volunteer assignments all over the world. It’s far more fulfilling than studying for finals and drinking with fraternity boys. All I’ve ever wanted to do is make a difference in this world. Dad has been more supportive, but I think he secretly hopes it’ll lead me to a career path.”

  London raised an eyebrow. “Has it?”

  Tiffany looked sheepish. “Not really,” she admitted. “I just know I want to keep impacting the world, one water filtration system and educated child at a time. And don’t even get me started on how I would never work for Foster Oil & Gas...”

  London looked at her for a long moment as her voice faded. A smile crept across her lips. “Hell, I’d vote for you to be President.”

  Tiffany burst into laughter. “London Foster, are you actually making a joke?” She cracked. “I can’t believe it. My tough, stoic older sister has found her sense of humor.”

  London rolled her eyes and pushed the comforter back. “So is the public transportation system here really that bad?”

  Tiffany nodded. “Non-existent,” she replied. “That’s why the first order of business this morning is getting you into a car. Can you just imagine how much better it would be if the metroplex had a viable public transit system? And no, I’m not counting the D.A.R.T. The Dallas Area Rapid Transit is a joke. Instead, millions of people clog these highways every day and slowly kill our air quality and environment with the fumes...”