Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [50]
By the time Mama had managed to fly from Los Angeles to Seattle to see her only granddaughter, Alison had been four years old.
Claire still remembered the day vividly. They'd met at the Woodland Park Zoo in downtown Seattle. Mama had been in the middle of a Starbase IV promotional tour (yet again) that touched down there.
Claire and Alison had been sitting on the wooden bench by the zoo's entrance for more than an hour, waiting.
Claire had almost given up when she'd heard a familiar high-pitched screech. She'd looked up just in time to see Mama, dressed in a bronze silk caftan, bearing down on them like a Thanksgiving Day parade float.
Lordy it's good to see my girl again, she'd cried out loudly enough that everyone nearby stopped to stare. A hushed buzz of recognition twittered through the crowd.
It's her, someone said. Tara Zyn from Starbase IV.
Claire had fought the urge to roll her eyes. She stood up, her hand clasped tightly around Alison's. Hey, Mama. It's good to see you again.
Mama had swooped down on one knee in a movement that sent silk wings flying up on either side of her. Is this darlin' little thing my granddaughter?
Hello, Mrs. Sullivan, Alison had said, stumbling awkwardly over the name she'd practiced for a week. Claire had been sure that Mama wouldn't appreciate the word Grandma. In print, she claimed to be looking forward to her fiftieth birthday.
Mama had studied Alison carefully. For a moment, only that, a kind of sadness passed through her blue eyes. Then that smile was back. You can call me Nanna. She reached out one bejeweled hand, stroked Ali's curly hair. You're the spittin' image of your mama.
I'm not allowed to spit, Mrs. . . . Nanna.
Mama had looked up. She's spunky, Claire-Bear. Just like Meggy. Good for you. It's the spunky ones that make it in life. I think she's the most well spoken two-year-old I've ever had the pleasure o' meetin'.
That's because she's four, Mama.
Four? Mama popped to her feet. Oh, honey, I don't think so. Y'all were just in the hospital. Now, let's hurry along to the snake house. That's m'favorite. And I've got to be back t'my hotel in an hour for an interview with Evenin' Magazine. Later that afternoon, Meghann had shown up and the four of them had walked silently through the Seattle Center, pretending they had something in common.
It used to hurt Claire to remember that day. Not so much anymore. The wound had healed over, grown a layer of thicker skin. She'd long ago quit wishing for a different mother. It was a hope that had once crippled her; she'd had to let it go. Like her dream of a sister who was also a best friend. Some things just didn't turn out the way you wanted, and a girl could only cry for so many years.
She glanced up at the clock on the oven. It was almost one o'clock.
In only a few hours, Meghann would be here.
“Great,” Claire muttered.
“My sister called me last night.”
Harriet sat back in her chair. It made a squeaking sound at the movement. “Ah. No wonder you actually kept this appointment. I'd begun to despair.”
“I missed one appointment. That's hardly a big deal. I called to cancel and I paid for it.”
“You always assume that money is the answer.”
“What's your point, Harriet? Today you're being so obscure even Freud couldn't follow you.”
“I understand that you were upset at our last appointment.”
Meghann's eye started to twitch. “Not really.”
Harriet stared at her. “Don't you understand that being upset is part of healing? You need to stop running from your emotions.”
“That's what I'm trying to do, if you'll listen. I said, my sister called last night.”
Harriet sighed. “Is that unusual? I was under the impression that you spoke to Claire quite often; you just never talk about what matters.”
“Well, that's true. We call each other every few months. Always on holidays and birthdays.”
“So what is remarkable about last night's conversation?”
Meghann's eye twitch kicked into high gear. She could barely see. For no reason at all, she found it difficult