There’s that word again—gone. Panic sets in as a trembling in my hands. “Will you please tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s Clara,” she says. “You know how upset she was that she didn’t graduate this spring and that your father and I are having her pay her tuition this year. Well, your father talked to the college. The administration worked with us and they agreed to let Clara into the fall courses she thought were closed. I’m driving her into Nashville tonight and we’re going to be staying with Nora.”
We’re? As in Mom and Clara are staying overnight with my oldest sister? “When will you be back?”
Mom’s face pinches like either I won’t like the answer or she won’t. The way my sugar level plummets, I’m thinking it’ll be me.
“Two weeks,” she says.
The world tilts. “Two weeks? I thought Dad was going to be working crazy hours and you were going to be taking time off from your job so you could handle his responsibilities and isn’t he supposed to be traveling for part of it and why are you leaving with Clara?”
Mom waves her hand to ward off my verbal meltdown as if she’s air patting me like a dog. “Calm down. Yes, your dad is busy. Yes, he will be out of town for part of it. Yes, I did take time off from work, but no, I won’t be here. I’ll be spending the two weeks with Clara. Your dad and I discussed it this morning. We have complete faith you can keep this house going. I’m sure Liam and Joshua will help, but, Bre, if anyone can run this house, it’s you. We know you can do this. Out of all of my children, you are the responsible one. My thinker.”
Mom grins at me like I should be happy. When my response is my wide-open mouth, she continues, “I need you to understand. Clara needs me.”
She needs her? Is Clara being blackmailed? Will Clara’s future be destroyed with a click of a button and one post on the internet? “Are you kidding me?”
“You’ll be fine,” she coos like I’m Elsie and she’s trying to convince me to bathe. “You’re the one that is always fine. You have practically raised yourself since birth. You run this household better than I do. Dad’s okay with you ordering takeout and everyone will have to understand you can’t get them to every practice.”
My head is shaking or it’s me shaking or it’s the entire kitchen shaking. “But you don’t understand. I need to talk to you.”
Liam and Clara walk into the kitchen. They’re both smiles until they see me. Actually, Liam still is, but Clara’s lips fall into a sneer.
“Liam, Clara, carry this stuff to the car,” Mom says. “The bursar’s office is giving us until six tonight so we can get you into those classes.”
My brother and sister hoist multiple boxes and luggage and Mom’s giving me a verbal list of things I already know, like what time to start baths and who is on what round of antibiotics and lots and lots of stuff that means she’s not listening to me.
Nausea roils in my stomach and her words become muffled and Clara and Liam laugh and my world is crashing around me. The pressure is mounting and my skin feels too tight.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, but Mom’s lecturing over me about how she’s concerned Zac isn’t coming straight home from school and that I need to stay vigilant with his time.
“There’s this thing that happened at school.” My voice is becoming higher in pitch and Mom’s progressed to describing Elsie’s problems now, and then Clara asks Mom where the keys are for the car, and when Mom pauses to answer my sister, I explode.
“They’re there, Clara! By the door. On the hook. Where the keys always are. Where everyone in this freaking room can see, but that’s not what it’s about, is it? You have to be the center of everything and right now the entire world does not revolve around you!”
“Breanna!” Mom roars. “That is uncalled-for!”
“Selfish much?” murmurs Liam. Shame heats my face, but what causes the tears to burn my eyes is the sadistic lift of Clara’s mouth. Mom never yells at me. The perfect, responsible daughter is plunging from the pedestal Clara created for me and Clara gloats in her victory.
“Go outside,” Mom says to Liam and Clara, but it’s me she pins with her ticked-off gaze. “Get the car ready. We’re leaving in minutes.”
The moment the door closes, I suck in a breath. “I’m sorry, but you don’t understand—”
Mom cuts me off. “I know I’m asking a lot from you and I know Clara has not been very good to you over the past two years.”
Try since birth. In fact, for years she’s done nothing but dump the burden of her unhappiness onto me.
“But your sister needs me.”
I attempt to rush out the truth. To tell her about the weekend, to tell her about Kyle, to tell her I’m scared and terrified and that I crave nothing more than to be six and climb onto her lap and let her chase the monsters away, but my mother steps forward and places her hands on my cheeks, hampering any hope I had of confessing.
Mom’s hazel eyes soften as they bore into mine. “Clara isn’t like you. None of us are like the two of you, but Clara struggles with this gift. This past year almost broke her, and when she didn’t graduate, I thought your sister was going to enter a depression I couldn’t dig her out of.
“Your dad called in a favor and we transferred her to a school near Nora. We’re hoping that staying with Nora will help ground Clara. Classes started last week, so she’s already behind. If she focuses, then she can graduate this December. I’m staying for two weeks to help her get organized, to help her catch up on work she’s missed, to help her with her confidence. Honey, these are things I don’t expect you to understand because you’re the one who has it together.”