Consequences(94)

Then the stillness grew and everything—Tony—her suite—her tears—her fear—and the pain—all faded away into darkness.





Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.



—Author anonymous





Chapter Twenty


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She couldn’t remember why she was afraid—only that she was terribly afraid and alone. Then with time, the dark and cold that enveloped her being began to dissipate. She heard music and felt warmth. Keeping her eyes shut, the darkness continued, but the familiar music grew louder and more comforting. Bette Midler sang Wind Beneath My Wings. Claire remembered that her mom loved that song. She’d turn up the radio and sing every word. Mom used to say, “It isn’t about the sound of your voice, but the happiness that makes you sing.”

“Shirley, do you know where my wallet is?” Jordan called from down the hall.

“Mom, Claire, took my Pop-Tart.” Emily’s voice sounded different, so young.

Claire opened her eyes and saw a scene, like a movie, except she was there and not there. She also saw her mom, dad, and sister. Claire watched herself, but the Claire she saw was young—maybe five or six-years-old. Their small house was chaotic and full of affection.

She watched as her mom made Emily another Pop-Tart, scolded Claire, and gave her a loving kiss on top of her head. Dad walked into the kitchen wearing his police uniform. Claire couldn’t believe how young everyone looked, how warm and full of love she felt watching this scene from her childhood. Dad walked behind Mom and put his arms tenderly around her. She noticed Emily and Claire playing with one another and their breakfast. They weren’t seeing the devotion and adoration Claire now saw between her parents. Mom giggled as Dad kissed her neck, and she handed him his wallet from the kitchen counter. He whispered in her ear, Claire strained to hear. “What would I ever do without you?”

“Well, you aren’t going to get the chance to find out. I plan on sticking around forever.”

As they looked at one another, the two little girls at the table started to distract them with their giggling, bickering, and suddenly the spilling of a glass of orange juice. Little Emily and little Claire both became silent, neither one would tell on the other. Claire heard her dad’s voice, “Girls, see what happens when you mess around.” His voice wasn’t angry. He cleaned the juice with a paper towel and Mom helped with a wet cloth. “Try to be careful, you sillies.” He kissed their foreheads as he turned to leave, taking the time to hug their mom.

The scene began to fade. Claire didn’t want to leave the warm feeling. She took one last look at the sisters eating their cereal and laughing. The spilled juice is forgotten. The darkness returned—coolness—



“Ms. Claire—Ms. Claire, can you hear me?” Although the familiar voice teemed with concern, the warmth she felt from her childhood was gone. Claire didn’t want to go to the voice—she wanted to go back—she wanted more sleep, more tranquility…


“Come on, Claire, the movie starts in half an hour,” Grandma’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

Claire opened her eyes and wondered where she was. It was her grandparent’s house. She must be staying over. Now she wondered if Emily was there too. She could see herself, no longer a child but an awkward teenager. Grandma called up the stairs again, “Claire, your sister said she’ll pick you and your friend up—hurry down.” Grandma’s expression reflected concern for Claire’s movie. The real Claire wondered if the teenage Claire would see Grandma’s distress.