The Long Road Home

by H. D. Thomson

  “Sure.”

  He disappeared. With the faint sound of the door closing, Clarisse breathed a little easier. But alone now, she was left to battle the images of the past.

  She turned her attention back to the dog and dried his hair to a black silvery sheen. She ran her fingers through the locks and thought of John’s hair. It seemed, no matter how hard she tried he always crept into her consciousness.

  Those four months together had been one of the happiest times of her life. She gave herself a self-deprecating smile and shook her head. For one evening, couldn’t she forget the man? She did have some free will. At least, she would like to think so.

  She released the dog from the towels and rose awkwardly to her feet. The animal raced around the bed, through the chairs and between her legs. Maybe this four-legged creature would do the trick of keeping John from her mind.

  She changed into a nightgown, then slipped under the covers. After a moment, the dog jumped up and snuggled into the curve of her stomach. Absently playing with his fur, she decided she better find a name for him.

  “How about Toto? Not exactly original, but I think it’ll do.” She smoothed his fur with a gentle hand. “Now you have a name. And tonight you don’t have to worry about your next meal or where you’re going to sleep. I wish life were so simple for people.”

  She sighed, stared up at the ceiling, and tried not to think of John. Eventually, time and weariness closed her eyes. The sweet oblivion of sleep claimed her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  At four in the morning, Clarisse found herself again in the back seat of John’s Explorer. She couldn’t withstand another day like yesterday. The dog had added a new dimension to a trip already out of control. At least Vivian ignored her. Except, of course, when John’s attention was diverted elsewhere. The redhead used those opportunities to fling venomous looks her way, and she suspected it would be only a matter of time before Vivian vocalized her animosity.

  Another two days. Then Clarisse would be rid of her, and John. At least temporarily. There was still the hurdle of her sister’s wedding and reception. But she would worry about that when the time came.

  By ten the heat enveloped her with suffocating intensity. Her jeans clung to every curve of her hips and legs and perspiration trickled down her back, drenching her cotton shirt even further. Sprawled out on the seat beside her, Toto panted heavily. She offered him a paper cup filled with water. He sniffed the edge but refrained from drinking. His listlessness worried Clarisse. If he continued to act this way, she would mention it to John and get his opinion.

  She grabbed her book to divert her attention from the heat, but the words melded into one. Over the wind whipping the plastic around Vivian’s dress, an odd sound had her lifting her eyes from the pages. She put the book down.

  “What’s that noise?” Vivian asked.

  “I don’t know.” Clarisse frowned in puzzlement.

  “It sounds like someone being sick,” John said in some concern. “Maybe the car’s overheating.”

  Clarisse spied the dog retching on the carpet below Vivian’s dress. Her eyes widened in horror. Oh no! Of all things. Frantically, she searched for something to put under Toto’s mouth. She came up empty handed, except for her paperback. By the time she slipped it under his nose, it was too late.

  “John, do you have any napkins?”

  “Why?”

  Clarisse cleared her throat. He was going to kill her. “The dog threw up.”

  “Damn it!” John exploded, catching her eye in the rear-view mirror. The car veered to the side and jerked back into their lane. “Can you clean it up?”

  She stiffened, disliking his tone. “I can’t. There aren’t any paper towels or napkins.”

  John swore loudly and savagely. Clarisse cringed, but remained silent. Arguing wasn’t going to solve anything.

  Toto jumped up on the armrest between the bucket seats. Clarisse, wanting to avoid a calamity, reached for the dog. But he slipped through her fingers and vaulted onto Vivian’s lap.

  “Ahh! Get that thing off me! It’s going to be sick!” Clearly in a panic, Vivian’s hands fluttered in the air. “It smells disgusting!”

  The redhead shoved at the creature. The dog growled, baring white teeth.

  “Do you see? Do you? It’s going to bite me.”

  Shaking its fur, the dog leaped in the back. Clarisse pulled the animal into her arms and groaned to herself. She had the distinct feeling she had been through a similar scenario just yesterday. If this was a sign of what lay ahead for the rest of the day, she wanted no part of it.

  “I need to get out,” Vivian wailed, covering a hand to her nose and mouth. “The smell. The heats making it even worse!”

  “Come off it, Vivian,” John retorted impatiently. “Don’t over-dramatize things.”

  A green sign flashed past.

  “There’s a rest area in a couple miles.” John’s relief was evident.

  Thank goodness! Clarisse slumped against the seat. The smell was becoming intolerable.

  “My dress!” Vivian must have just realized. “If that thing touched my dress, I swear I—” She sprang up and looked over her seat.

  “It’s fine,” Clarisse assured. Which was a shame. Staining the dress was much more preferable than ruining the Explorer’s spotless upholstery. “It’s still up on its hook.”

  Lips pursed, Vivian sniffed. She raked Clarisse with hot, savage eyes. “You’re lucky. If that smelly thing had even breathed on my dress, I’d make you pay.”

  When Vivian subsided in her seat, Clarisse made a face. She really did hate the woman. And who wouldn’t, after being cooped up with her for days on end?

  She tried to tell herself that her dislike had nothing to do with jealousy. Rather it was the woman’s abrasive personality that set her on edge. Yet, another part of her could relate to Vivian’s anxiety. Clarisse, herself, would have difficulty tolerating a cross-country trip with her boyfriend’s ex-lover. Newfound insecurities were bound to arise. But even so, it didn’t mean Vivian had to behave in such a deep-down nasty way.

  When John pulled into the rest area, all three scrambled out of the vehicle. Dragging in a mouthful of sweet air, Clarisse watched him disappear into the restroom. He came back with a handful of dampened towels.

  “Is it going to ruin the carpet?” Clarisse peered over his shoulder.

  “I don’t know.”

  She stepped back, telling herself he had a reason to be angry. Until now, no one could fault the pristine condition of his vehicle.

  While John threw the trash in a wastebasket, Clarisse moved to the opened door and looked inside. A large discolored spot darkened the tan carpet. She bit her lip. And here she thought things couldn’t get worse.

  When he returned, Clarisse sent him a nervous smile. “I’m sorry. I never thought this would happen.”

  John’s displeasure eased. He shrugged. “Don’t look so worried. It’ll come out with a good cleaning. It’s not the end of the world.”

  She relaxed. “Thanks for being so understanding. It’s a nice change after the way Vivian’s been—” She broke off, realizing he probably didn’t want to hear what she thought of his girlfriend’s behavior.

  John’s lips twitched. “She’s had a little difficulty adjusting to the problems we’ve had.”

  “A little?”

  He chuckled at her obvious skepticism. “Okay, a lot.” He looked around the grassy lawn and buildings. His mouth dipped in annoyance. “Where did she disappear to? We need to get going.”

  She didn’t much care where Vivian was. “She’s probably getting a drink or something.”

  “Well, since we’re forced to wait around, you might want to walk the dog. Hopefully, with a little air, he’ll be all right for the rest of the day.”

  She left John at the car and strolled across the rolling grass. Her knee protested with each step, but she ignored it and forced her legs to flow naturally. After being imprisoned in the back seat for so l
ong, a short jaunt might do her some good and loosen the stiffness.

  A strong breeze wrestled with the leaves around her and dark-bellied clouds pushed against the blue sky. Rain. Its scent drifted in the air. Maybe a good downpour would alleviate some of the heat.

  She turned the corner of the rest room’s building and faltered. Vivian stood against the wall laughing up at some stranger. The man, attractive enough to catch any woman’s eye, seemed enthralled with the redhead. They were so close they were almost touching.

  She wondered what John would think if he saw the pair. Or would he care? Did they have that type of relationship? She didn’t think so. She remembered his possessiveness and knew he couldn’t have changed that much.

  Watching Vivian playfully run a finger along the man’s bicep, she wondered if this could be the same woman who had threatened her to keep away from John. If Vivian couldn’t limit her flirtations to John, she didn’t deserve him, Clarisse thought in disgust. He didn’t need some superficial woman hanging around him.

  She shook her head, mentally berating herself. What was she thinking? It wasn’t her business if Vivian wanted to flirt with any two-legged male she found attractive. Though, getting to San Diego was her business.

  “Vivian?”

  The redhead turned. Her lips pursed in irritation. “What do you want?”

  “We’re ready to go. John’s waiting in the car. I didn’t think you’d want to be left behind.”

  “Have you cleaned it up?”

  Her hand tightened on the leash. She didn’t have to ask what it was. “Yeah.”

  “But is it livable? I mean, can I actually sit in the car and not worry about the smell?”

  Clarisse bit back a retort. She didn’t want to fling insults in front of an audience.

  Vivian flipped her hair behind a shoulder and turned back to the man. Her expression altered dramatically. Her lips curved into a seductive smile and she whispered something in his ear. His brow rose and sexual awareness glittered in his eyes.

  Sickened, Clarisse turned away and walked back to the Explorer. Toto, seeing a squirrel, jerked on the leash. She stumbled and twisted her leg from the sudden movement, tripping where the walkway met grass. Pain sliced into her knee. She gasped and closed her eyes briefly.

  “What’s wrong with your leg?”

  Her pulse fluttered wildly at Vivian’s question. She frowned hoping the fear of discovery didn’t show in her face. She had never been a good liar.

  “I still get twinges from the ankle I sprained.”

  Vivian’s eyes narrowed.

  Even as Clarisse strove for calm, tension seized her shoulders and back, twisting her muscles into knots.

  “I know you’re hiding something,” Vivian finally said. “But for the life of me, I can’t figure it out. I’m not buying the sprained ankle story. When I walked in on you the other day, you acted real odd; almost as if you were trying to hide your body from me. Which is strange in itself. Modesty, however false, doesn’t do if you want to get anywhere in the modeling business. And we both know you got far.”

  Her hand tightened on the leash. If Vivian realized how disturbing her comments were to Clarisse, she would grow more determined to unearth the truth.

  “And I’ve been thinking. What makes someone disappear off the face of the earth when they’re at the top of their career? There’s got to be a reason.”

  Clarisse’s brow rose in mock amusement. Inside, though, her apprehension escalated to new heights. Her body screamed in protest at the effort of appearing relaxed. “Come off it. I think you’re sounding paranoid.”

  “That’s what you’d like me to believe.” Vivian shook her head, a calculated gleam in her eyes. “I’ve also been thinking why a person wouldn’t have a swimsuit or shorts. Why the pants? It makes me wonder. Especially when you seem to favor that leg of yours. Very strange, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I don’t have to listen to this.” She inhaled through her gritted teeth.

  “No, but you are. And the reason’s obvious. You’re wondering how much I’ve figured out.” She smiled smugly. “I still have some contacts in New York, you know. A couple of phone calls, and I might be able to get some info on the famous Claire.”

  A chill crawled up her spine. No. Vivian wasn’t going to get to her. That’s what the woman wanted. Vivian flicked her red curls behind one shoulder and threw a triumphant look over her shoulder as she strode back to the vehicle. Clarisse followed at a more sedate pace.

  Back in the car and on the road, she unsuccessfully banned Vivian’s threats from her mind. They were only threats, she insisted. And even if she found out about Clarisse’s past and her scared leg, what was the worst that could happen? She would tell John. At the thought, her entire body tensed.

  Even three years after the plane crash, Clarisse knew she lacked faith in herself. It frightened her, probably unnaturally so, for John to learn of her scars. But even if he did see beyond her disfigurement and his relationship with Vivian ceased to exist, he would never forgive her for lying.

  The vehicle’s slowing stopped her brooding. She peered outside and read the sign that flashed by. Albuquerque. She glanced at her watch. Five o’clock rush hour.

  They melded into the traffic’s erratic flow. Brake lights flashed from the car immediately ahead. Suddenly, tires on asphalt screamed. Clarisse gripped the seat, waiting for impact. Sights and smells of another crash bombarded her. Smoke swirled. It teased her face and hair, then turned savage as it seeped through her mouth and tore into her lungs. A soft and quiet hissing, more dangerous sounding than any other noise, whispered in her ears. Fire danced around her. It lapped at her leg, licking at her clothing and skin with vicious intensity.

  “Damn it!” John swerved. He missed the car in front and maneuvered their car expertly into the far right lane.

  Clarisse blinked. The car jerked back into their original lane, and the dog in her lap scrambled for purchase. Its claws dug into her knee.

  “Ow!” Her fingers thrust into the dog’s curls and gently eased the animal onto the seat beside her. Dragging in a lungful of air, she wiped her damp palms on the sides of her pants. The thundering in her ears eased.

  “Is everything all right back there?” John glanced over his shoulder, a frown of concern marring his tanned brow.

  “Yes. Fine,” Clarisse said through the biting pressure in her knee.

  She looked around. Everything outside was business as usual. Cars around them continued ahead. But there was something different. For a few seconds, she couldn’t place it. Then she realized the sound of flapping plastic had halted. She glanced at the seat beside her. The hook lay empty. Vivian’s dress had disappeared.

  Clarisse twisted around to see out the rear window. A black garment floated through the air like a large, monstrous bat. It landed on the windshield of the vehicle two cars down and in the next lane. Its wings hugged the window for a second and slid off, then caught on the vehicle’s antenna, held on for a brief moment, before twirling through the wind and across the bridge. The dress dove over the railing and disappeared.

  Mouth gaping, Clarisse turned back in her seat. She closed her eyes and tried not to laugh. How ironic. Vivian had made such a point of protecting that dress, but all her concern had been for naught. She tried to sympathize but failed miserably. “Ah, Vivian. There’s a slight problem.”

  “What?” Eyes sparkling with hostility, Vivian peered around the side of her seat.

  “Your dress.” How could she explain without getting the woman too upset? She couldn’t.

  “What about my dress?” she asked suspiciously.

  “It flew out the window.” Clarisse didn’t have to wait long for the inevitable scene.

  “What!” The redhead rose to her knees and frantically searched the back. When she couldn’t find her dress, she looked over at Clarisse. Her eyes turned to seething slits, while a dull flush crept into her skin. “You did it, didn’t you? You threw it out the window! Of all t
he vicious, childish things I’ve seen people do, this tops the list! How could you!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” John laughed. “Clarisse isn’t the type to do something like that.”

  She met John’s gaze in the rear view mirror with gratitude. “When John swerved to avoid an accident, it flew out the window.”

  “Well, we’ll just have to go back and get it,” Vivian insisted.

  “I don’t think we can.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  Clarisse struggled for calm, though it was hard with Vivian sneering at her. “We were on the bridge crossing the Rio Grande when it fell off the side. It could be on its way to Mexico by now.”

  Vivian slashed a hand through the air. “That’s it. I’ve had enough.” She sounded almost hysterical.

  “Calm down,” John said. “It’s just a dress.”

  It was the wrong thing to say. “Just a dress!” Her red mane whirled around her as she glared at John. “It’s not just a dress. It’s everything. Ever since I came on this trip, it’s been one thing after another. Well, I’ve had enough!”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” John replied with a patience Clarisse admired, “but it’s not like you’re the only one that has had problems.”

  “How far are we from the airport?”

  “I don’t know, Vivian. Probably only a couple of miles. I think we might have to double back, and I’d have to check the map to make sure,” John said. “But is going to the airport necessary? You can always find another dress in San Diego.”

  “That’s not the point!” A dark flush mottled Vivian’s cheeks, and perspiration trailed down her hairline. She looked as if she was going to rupture a blood vessel. “I want out. Come with me, John. Forget the wedding. Come back to New York with me.”

  “I can’t do that. I’ve already made a commitment. Clarisse’s sister is expecting me to shoot her wedding and reception. She’s a good kid.” John’s voice tightened with sarcasm. “Besides, what do you propose I do with my car?”