Just Claire (18 page)
Authors: Jean Ann Williams
BLEST BE THE TIE THAT BINDS
T
he car was packed
with boxes strapped onto the top of the station wagon. Feather cried in ClaireLee's arms as she rocked him back and forth, waiting. “Shh, baby, shh. We're going homeâto your real home.” ClaireLee walked down the driveway a few yards.
She promised to say good-bye.
Herding the kids into the car, Daddy called out. “ClaireLee.” She huffed in disappointment. “We can't wait much longer.”
She tossed the words out over the roar of Rushing River. “Just five more minutes.” She swayed the baby in a wider motion, and he stopped fussing.
Behind ClaireLee, Mama said, “Claire?”
“I know, I know, we've got to go.” She was ready to leave, wanted to leave, but where was she?
Mama rubbed her palm between ClaireLee's shoulder blades. “I told your daddy we could wait more than a few minutes. This is important.” Mama switched to a scratching ClaireLee's back with a fingernail, and ClaireLee relaxed. “Besides, your nana will keep supper warming if we're late.”
From Mama's kind words, ClaireLee exhaled nosily. “Thanks, Mama. I know she will come. She said she would.”
Mama stood next to ClaireLee and watched with her. “I believe you.”
After ten long minutes passed, a car with a loud muffler pulled off of Pit Street. It headed toward cabin number nine, with dirt barreling behind. ClaireLee gave the baby to her mother. “Here, Mama.”
Mama began to move away, but then came closer. “Claire, don't forget to give her your address.”
“I'll remember.” ClaireLee walked to meet the car then broke into a sprint, coming to the passenger's side. The bumper of the car shook as the car hit a pothole. She kept steady pace with the slowing vehicle.
“I'm sorry, Claire.” Belinda was rolling down the window. “Bossy got away from me after I milked. We had to get her back into the pen before we could leave.”
“Your old cow is pretty smart.” ClaireLee laughed. “And I thought you were stronger than some ol' cow.”
Belinda bent her arm up at the elbow and pumped her bicep into a goose-eggsized muscle.
Pulling next to the station wagon, Grandma Neecy switched off the engine. Belinda threw open the door and hugged ClaireLee. “I'm gonna miss the tar out of ya.”
Squeezed in too hard of a hug, she said, “You're smothering me.”
“When ya love someone,” Belinda released her grip, “ya give them bear hugs.”
A heavy ache hit ClaireLee's chest. “I want us to write each other.” She pulled a folded paper from her pocket. “This is my address.”
Belinda's eyes grew misty, and her lips trembled. “Ah, this is nice, real nice.”
While Grandma Neecy hugged the entire family, ClaireLee was holding Belinda's hand. Then, the older woman moseyed over to Belinda and ClaireLee. “We gotta let y'all go.” She hugged ClaireLee, who caught the scent of bacon, once again.
The Monteiro car engine roared to life and ClaireLee said, “It's time.” Tears stung the bridge of her nose.
“Yep.” Belinda swiped at her wet lashes. She gave ClaireLee a nudge. “Go on to your Oregon.”
ClaireLee walked three paces from Belinda, but turned back and rushed into Belinda's arms. “I love you, friend.”
“I love you more.” Belinda's chin rested on ClaireLee's head.
“No, you don't.” ClaireLee snapped to attention and placed hands on her hips.
Mimicking ClaireLee's stance, Belinda said, “Yes, I do.”
“Nuh-uh.” ClaireLee stepped backward while facing Belinda.
Her eyes grew large and sorrow showed within her sky blues. “Yeah-huh, Claire.”
Waving, ClaireLee slid next to Mama in the front seat. As the station wagon rolled along the driveway, ClaireLee hollered out the window, “Prove it and write to me, Belinda Cruz.”
The two friends waved frantically, until Belinda and the cabin vanished within the dust.
“You ready to go home, Claire?” her father said.
He said Claire. Just Claire.
Her laugh filled her whole face.
Jean Ann Williams began her writing career in 1994 by reading a stack of books on the craft of writing. Since then, Jean Ann has published over 100 articles and short stories. In her free time, Jean Ann enjoys reading, reviewing books and mentoring young writers for the next generation. She is also a small-time goat farmer and raises a couple dozen hens on one acre of land. Recently, Jean Ann has taken up archery with her custom-fitted bow for short people.
