Family Storms Read online

  For the first time in a very long time, I couldn’t wait for morning.

  I was already dressed when Kiera came around. She was still in her robe and slippers. “Why did you get up so early?” she complained. “It’s Sunday.”

  “I couldn’t sleep anymore,” I said. “I felt so awake and anxious to start the day.” She saw and heard the change in me and smiled. “I’m hungry, too.”

  “Me, too. I know. We could have breakfast brought up to us. Let’s have it in my suite. It’s like room service in the best hotel, after all,” she said, going to the phone.

  I was sure that when she picked up the receiver, Mrs. Duval thought I was calling.

  “This is Kiera,” she said. Although Mrs. Duval would certainly recognize her voice, Kiera obviously liked to announce herself as if she were a princess. “Sasha and I will be taking breakfast in my suite this morning, Mrs. Duval. I’ll have my usual Sunday breakfast, and Sasha will have … ” She listened and then shook her head. “I don’t know if she wants that.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Do you want your usual cheese and egg omelet?” She grimaced and shook her head. “Or what I have?”

  “I’ll have what you have,” I said. I knew that on Sundays, she had a cup of fruit sorbet with a dab of whipped cream, coffee, and glazed doughnuts. Mrs. March always complained about the way Kiera ate.

  “She’ll have exactly the same as me, Mrs. Duval. Thank you very much.” After she hung up the phone, she laughed. “She didn’t sound pleased, but they’re here to please us, and not vice versa. I’m going to go take a quick shower. Oh,” she added at the door, “I sorta agreed we’d go to Disneyland today. Ricky’s getting his father’s SUV. It will hold us all. They’ll be here in about an hour.”

  “Disneyland?”

  “Yes. Have you ever been there?”

  “No, but … When will we return?”

  “I don’t know. What’s the difference?”

  “Homework left to do,” I said.

  “We’ll get to it when we can. If we can,” she added with a smile. She paused and tilted her head a little as she looked at me. “What are you wearing? I think Alena wore that to someone’s baptism. Don’t worry. When you come into my suite, I’ll have something better for you.”

  “Okay,” I said, and she left.

  I looked at the clothes I had put on. Mrs. March sort of suggested things for me to wear by organizing the front of the walk-in closet so I could go from outfit to outfit. I hadn’t thought much of it, but I certainly didn’t want to go to Disneyland dressed the way I would dress if I were going to a baptism.

  I had always wanted to go to Disneyland, but for Mama and me, it was too expensive after Daddy deserted us, and when he was still there, he never wanted to take me or spend the money. I imagined it would be more fun going with Kiera and her friends, anyway. I knew it was at least an hour away. It would certainly take up the whole day.

  I gazed at the clarinet. Besides the homework I still had, I was also supposed to spend a good hour on the new music Mr. Denacio had given me to practice on the weekend. He was so good at detecting when you didn’t practice. Somehow, I thought, I’d get it all done.

  Before I went to Kiera’s suite to have breakfast, my phone rang. It was Mrs. March, and from the tone of her voice, I suspected that Mrs. Duval had called her as soon as she had hung up from Kiera’s call.

  “How are you this morning?” she asked.

  “I’m fine, Mrs. March.”

  “Where did she take you last night?”

  I told her about the restaurant and the movie and added that we had come right home after the movie. I also said that Kiera had driven carefully. Mrs. March was quiet a moment and then asked if any of Kiera’s friends had tried to get me to smoke something or take something.

  “No,” I said. “Nothing like that happened. They were all very nice.”

  “Nice?” she said, as if I had said something good about Nazis. “Just be very, very careful with them and with Kiera,” she reiterated. “Okay, we’ll be flying into L.A. about five. I look forward to seeing you at dinner and hearing more about your day and night.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her we were going to Disneyland, but I hesitated, and she said good-bye. Oh, well, I thought. Surely Kiera knew we had to be back by dinner. She knew when her parents were returning. It would be all right.

  She was still in her robe but drying her hair when I entered her suite.

  “Ricky called,” she said after she turned off the hair dryer. “He wanted to be sure you were coming along.”

  “Really?”

  “He says there’s something fresh about you.”

  “Fresh?”

  “I explained that you were a virgin,” she said, making it sound as if I had come from another country, maybe another planet.

  “Oh. What did he say?”

  “What do you think?” she asked. I waited. “He said too bad.”

  She laughed hard just as Mrs. Duval brought in our breakfast.

  “Perfect. Thank you, Mrs. Duval,” Kiera sang.

  Mrs. Duval looked at me as she put the tray on the table. “Be sure to take your vitamin,” she said. “Mrs. March was concerned.”

  “Oh, brother,” Kiera muttered loudly. “You’ve already told my mother what we’re eating for breakfast?”

  Mrs. Duval turned to her. “You should be taking your vitamins, too, Kiera, especially the way you eat.”

  “I don’t think I look so bad for it, Mrs. Duval.”

  “I’m not talking about the outside of you,” she replied.

  Kiera groaned.

  Mrs. Duval shook her head, looked at me with a warning in her eyes, and left.

  “I hope she didn’t make the coffee as weak as she has been making it,” Kiera said, coming to the table. “Oh, your clothes are laid out on my bed there. You can change after we enjoy our nutritionally worthless breakfast.”

  Now that I started to eat what she ate, I wondered why I had not asked for my special eggs. It was too much sugar, and just looking at it actually made me feel a little nauseated. She finished her sorbet almost before I had started.

  She grimaced when she sipped her coffee. “It’s more like tea. My mother tells her to make it like this for me.”

  “Your mother called me,” I said as I nibbled at the doughnut.

  “This morning?”

  “Yes.”

  She stopped sipping her coffee and put her doughnut down. “Probably after Mrs. Duval let her know what you were having for breakfast. What does my mother expect you to be, her little spy now?”

  “No,” I said.

  “What did you tell her about our day together?”

  “Nothing bad. I told her we had a very nice time.”

  She thought a moment and then shrugged. “Whatever,” she said, and went at her doughnut.

  After we ate, I put on the outfit she had chosen. It was a pair of slightly destroyed denim shorts with raw cuffs and a tank top that read “Fresh Air Turns Me On.” I was surprised at how tightly the shorts fit. There was something uncomfortable in the rear, and I reached in and discovered a tag.

  “You never wore these?” I asked.

  “Oh,” she said. “I probably never noticed.” She grabbed some scissors and cut it off. “They look perfect on you.”

  “I think they’re too tight.”

  “That’s perfect, silly. You don’t want to look like some old lady.”

  The top hung loose, however—too loose, I thought. My bra was half out. “I’m swimming in this.”

  “I’ll give you a shell to wear instead of your bra,” she said. “It’ll look great.”

  When she put on what she was going to wear, I thought she looked more conservative. Her jeans weren’t tight, and she layered a shirt and a top but wore her bra.

  “I’m not sure I look good,” I said, gazing at myself in her full-length mirror.

  “Trust me, you’re dynamite. Now let’s go find a reason to ex
plode,” she said. Her phone rang. “We’ll be right down,” she said, and hung up. “They’re pulling in. Let’s go.”

  We almost left the house without anyone knowing, but Mrs. Duval spotted us just as we reached the front door. “Where are you going?” she asked, hurrying toward us. “Your parents will definitely be home for dinner,” she added.

  “We’re going to Disneyland with friends, Mrs. Duval. Didn’t I mention it this morning?”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Didn’t I? I’m sorry. We probably won’t make it back in time for dinner. I’ll call you if we can.”

  Before Mrs. Duval could respond, Kiera opened the door and shouted at Ricky and the others as they pulled up to the front of the mansion. She grabbed my hand to pull me out, and I looked back at Mrs. Duval. She gazed at me and shook her head as if I were about to step off the edge of a cliff.

  It made me hesitate but only for a moment. The boys were howling as we stepped out.

  “Who’s that foxy girl with you, Kiera?” Ricky called.

  The laughter and shouting replaced my worry with excitement. It hadn’t been that long ago that I was desperate on a street. Now look at yourself, I thought.

  You’re a foxy girl.

  23

  Happiest Place on Earth

  Kiera decided that I should sit up front with Ricky since this was my first trip to Disneyland. On the way, everyone argued about the best rides and events. The boys liked Pirates of the Caribbean the most, and the girls favored Alice in Wonderland. I was surprised to hear that most of them had been there a dozen times at least. Because I didn’t want to look and sound like some wide-eyed, dazzled child, I didn’t want to say it, but I felt like Alice in Wonderland when we arrived and started down Main Street.

  I was surprised at the attention I was receiving. Everyone wanted to show me something he or she liked. I was rushed along from one ride to another. Whether or not Kiera had coached the others about making me feel wanted, I did feel like part of their group and as if I had been for some time. Ricky was especially attentive and sat with me on every ride, especially Autopia. Boyd and Margot were right behind us in their car, deliberately bumping us every chance they had, but it was all great fun. I had never laughed and screamed so much.

  After lunch, we went to Indiana Jones and then to Alice in Wonderland. Both Ricky and Boyd were ecstatic when I voted with them on best attraction and created a tie. The girls weren’t upset. We joked about it and finished the day by going to the 3-D show of Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. I had not even looked at the time once and was shocked to see that it was nearly six-thirty. There was no question now that we would not be home for dinner. Kiera didn’t seem at all nervous or upset about it. On the way home, we stopped at one of Deidre’s favorite restaurants. By the time Ricky drove through the Marches’ gate, it was nearly nine-fifteen.

  No one worried about doing homework. In fact, nothing about school had been mentioned all day until Ricky said he’d see me the next day at school. Kiera and I got out and watched them drive off. I felt exhausted, but it was a happy sort of exhaustion that I would welcome again and again. I thanked Kiera. She had paid for everything for me, of course.

  “Ricky seems to genuinely like you,” she commented as we opened the door. “He’s usually very critical of younger girls.”

  I basked in the compliment, but only for an instant, because Mrs. March came marching out of the living room with a look of anger I had not seen before.

  “Earthquake coming,” Kiera whispered.

  “How dare you keep Sasha out all day and have her miss dinner?” she began. “Your father is too angry to come out of his office.”

  “She didn’t miss dinner. We stopped on the way home.”

  “I don’t mean that, and you know I don’t mean that, Kiera. We worked out our travel schedule so we could have dinner together when we returned. And why didn’t you answer your cell phone? Either of you?” she asked, looking at me.

  “I didn’t have mine with me,” I said.

  “Come to think of it, neither did I,” Kiera said. “Everyone I wanted to talk to today was with us, anyway.”

  That brought blood into Mrs. March’s face. For a moment, rage choked her throat, and she couldn’t speak. Then she looked at me again. “What are you wearing? Where did you get those clothes?”

  “They’re mine,” Kiera said.

  “I never saw them before. Those shorts are inappropriate.”

  “Please, Mother, don’t be a prude.”

  “And they’re surely not warm enough.”

  “They were,” Kiera said. “We weren’t exactly on a hiking and camping outing. Can we go upstairs now? We both have homework.”

  “I’m very disappointed,” Mrs. March said, stepping back. She was saying it mostly to me.

  “You wouldn’t have been if you had come along. Disneyland was great today. The lines weren’t that long and …”

  “Go to your room, Kiera. We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” Mrs. March said.

  I lowered my head and followed Kiera to the stairway.

  “My father’s not as angry as she claims he is,” she whispered as we went up. “Otherwise, he’d be out here, too.”

  I didn’t say anything. The look of disappointment on Mrs. March’s face was not only sobering, it was a little frightening. Maybe now all her of kindness and generosity would end. Perhaps she no longer saw me as being as good and as nice as her Alena. If anyone had told me months ago that I would fear being sent away, I would have practically laughed because it seemed such a ridiculous possibility. How could I ever get to care much about being with the girl who was driving the car that night or the family that protected her? All of the gifts, the money, the clothes, and the wonderful new school would not buy my forgiveness.

  “Don’t worry,” Kiera said, seeing my silence and concern. “She won’t be as angry tomorrow. That’s the way she is.”

  “I’d better finish my homework,” I said, and hurried to my bedroom.

  When I entered it, I felt even worse. It was as if I had let down Alena as much as Mrs. March. I thought you were going to be me for my mother, her picture said to me. I’d never have done that.

  Looking at myself in Kiera’s clothes suddenly disgusted me. I took them off as quickly as I could and put on one of Alena’s nightgowns before getting to my homework. It took me so long to finish that there was no time to practice the clarinet. I was so bleary-eyed by then anyway that I couldn’t stay awake and, in fact, overslept.

  Mrs. March came in to wake me. “You’ll have to rush,” she said, and then she just left without another word.

  I got up quickly. I could hear her yelling in Kiera’s bedroom, and a door slammed. I dressed as fast as I could and hurried down to breakfast. Mr. March apparently had left already. Mrs. March was at the table but had her head in her hands, her elbows on the table, and didn’t look up when I entered.

  “I want you to be sure to come directly home after school today,” she said, still looking down at the table. “Do not permit Kiera to talk you into coming home with her and sending Grover back without you.” She raised her head. “She wants you to go back and forth to school with her, but I refuse to permit it. In fact, I don’t want you riding with her anywhere unless I specifically say. Understand, Sasha?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know what went on here exactly while I was away, but I’m not pleased,” she concluded.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  Kiera sauntered in and poured herself a cup of coffee. “They’re still making the coffee too weak,” she told her mother after sipping some.

  “I think you have more important things to think about than the strength of your coffee, Kiera.”

  “We just went to Disneyland, Mother. Don’t make it into a federal case.”

  Mrs. March narrowed her eyes. “Rein yourself in, Kiera. You’re heading for another major disaster,” she warned.

  Kiera smirked and nibbled on a pastry.
Then she just threw it down, got up, and left. Mrs. March didn’t say anything, even to me.

  I finished, got my things, and hurried out to the limousine. After being with Kiera and her friends, hearing their laughter and seeing their joy, it was even more depressing to be alone in the big vehicle. If anything, it made me feel as if I had shrunken again and was back to being the mousy little girl with a limp.

  After homeroom, I dreaded walking into Mr. Denacio’s class. The moment I took out the clarinet, his eyes shifted with suspicion. I hadn’t played for more than thirty seconds before he stopped me.

  “You didn’t practice at all, did you?”

  “No,” I said.

  He didn’t say anything. He nodded and went to the next student, but that sort of quiet reaction of his was worse. I felt his disappointment and his conclusion that I was finally like most of the others and would not be anyone special after all. It was like almost getting to the top of a mountain and then sliding all the way back down. I wanted to cry. I tried to be enthusiastic for the remainder of the period but couldn’t get my energy level up and was happy when the bell rang.

  I wasn’t as alert in any of my morning classes as I usually was and actually went into a daydream during math. I missed the entire explanation of a problem, and when called upon, I didn’t know where we were in the lesson. There, too, my teacher didn’t reprimand me. He just looked at me as if I had let him down and went on to another student. By the time lunch period came around, I felt as if I had stepped in quicksand and was nearly in it above my head. I certainly had no appetite.

  But before I could settle into my funk and cry to myself, Ricky grabbed my arm. “We’re eating outside,” he said.

  I looked at him with surprise. It was one thing to do things with Kiera and her friends on the weekend, but for them to want me with them at school, too, was quite another. My classmates and the girls with whom I usually sat looked up with as much surprise as I had when I filled my tray and followed Ricky out to their table.

  He made a place for me, and I sat beside him.

  “Why so sad a face?” Margot asked immediately.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but my mother gave us a hard time for missing dinner with her and my father last night,” Kiera said quickly. “I suppose that’s still bothering her.”