Letting Go

Letting Go

Just Breathe
Ephemera

Volume Two

By Kendall Grey

Published by Howling Mad Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2012, Kendall Grey

LETTING GO

Copyright 2012 by Kendall Grey

Published by

Howling Mad Press, LLC

P.O. Box 660

Bethlehem, GA 30620

United States of America

www.howlingmadpress.com

All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Edited by
Jennifer Sommersby Young

Cover design and additional art by Renee Coffey

ISBN: 9781476343365

First Ebook Edition: August 2012

This short story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at
Smashwords.com
, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents

Ephemera

Letting Go

Inhale

Exhale

Author

ephemera
[
ih-
fem
-er-
uh
]
noun, plural.

Items designed to be useful or important for only a short time, especially pamphlets, notices, tickets, etc.

[From
Dictionary.com
]

Sydney, New South Wales

Australia

1992

“
Why do you insist on wearing those hideous clothes, Zoe?” Mother stood in the doorway of their four-star hotel room, hands gripping her hips, scowl harder than a sun-baked worm on Southern California asphalt.

Matching her stare, Zoe Morgan raked the inside of her cheek with the braces on her molars and glanced down at her nondescript flannel shirt and jeans. She started to say, “Because they match the ugly freak wearing them,” but she scratched it. Candace would whip out her little notebook, twist open her precious Montblanc pen, and write that one down for the shrink, for sure.

“
I don’t expect you to understand.” Zoe snatched her book bag off the bed and slung it over her shoulder, barely missing Mother’s chin with the swing.

Oops.

A couple of lines in Mother’s brow smoothed under the weight of feigned concern, but the wolfish blue eyes betrayed her. She slid a rough hand down Zoe’s arm. “Honey, please. If my colleagues see you dressed like that, it’ll—”

“
Embarrass you?” God, Zoe could only hope.

Mother straightened her spine and yanked off a stray thread from a seam of her smart gray suit. Her clothes always conveyed an air of femininity blended with razor-sharp shrewdness. The elegant appearance underscored her impressive title: Dr. Candace Morgan, Professor of Evolutionary Biology.

Patting down the back of her salt-and-pepper bob, Mother sighed with obvious displeasure. “Can’t you just wear the outfit I brought for you?”

Hell no.
“I’d rather not.”

Candace stepped in front of her and took Zoe’s hands. “Please. For me?”

Hmm. The begging was new. And she’d never seen Mother pout like that.

Zoe’s resolve wavered.

Cunning, predatory light opened Mother’s pupils for a split second. She dropped her hands. “I’ll make a deal with you. Wear the other outfit, and we’ll go up to Hervey Bay tomorrow. My colleague, Dr. Simons, lives there and has a boat. I’ll ask him to take us out for the day.”

Zoe’s heart skipped a beat, and the invisible geek antennae on top of her head stood at attention. Man, Candace really knew how to push her buttons. It was like she saved up a week’s supply of passive aggression and unleashed it all at once. How could Zoe resist an offer like this?

“
Can he show me the whales? They’re migrating down the coast now…”

Wait. She couldn’t come off as too eager. Mother would use it to her advantage.

“
I mean, if he has the time. I’m sure the humpbacks are pretty far offshore.” She shrugged and batted the air with her hand. “Never mind. We can always see them at home. No biggie.” Man, she hoped she played that with just the right amount of apathy.

Candace’s upper lip twitched as she headed for the open suitcase on the dresser. She removed a neatly folded pair of girly-ass pink slacks and a pin-tucked, button-down shirt littered with a gaudy magnolia print. The thing screamed
Old lady!
so loud, the blood pulsing in Zoe’s ears threatened to split her eardrum in two. She pushed out a long hiss between clenched teeth as Mother handed over the stack.

You can do this. The guy has a boat—not like a whale watch, but his own
personal
boat.

She wished crazy Aunt Renee were here to make light of the situation. And maybe give little sis Candace an elbow to the ribs.

Under Mother’s watchful gaze, Zoe took the clothes into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She unbuttoned her blue and green flannel, revealing a flat chest to the unwitting mirror, which she half expected to shatter. Jeans slid down her stick legs, scarred from growing too fast. She kicked them to the side.

Wearing a pair of white cotton undies and a thoroughly unimpressed training bra, she frowned at herself. She tugged her wispy, long blond hair back and tied it into a ponytail. Under the fluorescent light, her too-big blue eyes twinkled in a reciprocal dance with the shiny metal bands on her teeth.

She really was an ugly freak.

And stupid too, as Mother kept reminding her with the disappointed looks and sideways glances. Ever since Zoe was diagnosed with triple X syndrome, Mother had gone out of her way to patronize Zoe—little pats on the head as if she were some kind of pet, and that high-pitched voice she put on when she pretended to give a flip about someone’s baby…

Zoe closed her eyes, shook her head, and sucked it up. Someday, she’d prove Mother and the doctors wrong.

After putting on the “My Momma Dresses Me Funny” clothes, she gathered up the discarded jeans and flannel and left the bathroom, tossing her preferred outfit into the dirty pile on the floor near the suitcase. Frowning, she wriggled into her winter coat. “I’m ready to go.”

Candace swept a hand over her hair again and stole a glance into the mirror beside the door. Finding something out of place, she paused and faced the glass full on. Brilliant
and
vain. What a combo. Sliding a finger under her eye to smooth her perfect makeup, she said, “Thank you, darling. I’ll ask Dr. Simons about the boat over dinner tonight.”

Zoe slipped her portable CD player and headphones into her backpack, wound her arms through the straps, and followed Candace out of the room. At least she had her whale songs to keep her company. This trip would have totally sucked without them.

She left the warm comfort of the hotel and stepped into a crisp winter breeze. It was August—summertime to her, but the 23.4-degree tilt of the earth forced the southern hemisphere to disagree. The seasonal difference fascinated Zoe. Everything about Australia did. Accents, money, electrical outlets…

She normally spent summers at home in Santa Cruz, roaming the Biological Sciences library at the University of California while Mother taught undergrad courses, so this trip was a refreshing diversion. Not that being surrounded by walls of books was a bad thing. It was the reading part she hated. Pictures were fine. Words…not so much.

At least while she was here, she could learn about the culture in her own way—through sights and sounds and interactions with people. So much better to
live
the learning than to try to figure it out through a bunch of stupid backwards letters that made no sense.

She wished Mother understood.

Candace turned without pausing her
clippity-cloppity
steps down the Sydney sidewalk. “Really, Zoe, could you please hurry? It’s freezing out here.” Her breath billowed out in a puffy cloud, as if to accentuate her point. The condensed air reminded Zoe of a whale blow.

She kicked up her pace and caught up to Mother, who thundered onward, arms folded tightly over her chest, gloved fists balled under her armpits. The traffic light at the corner warned them to stop.

“
Hello, blondie girl,” a thin, aged voice said.

Zoe started to turn to the sound, but Mother yanked her elbow. “Don’t talk to him,” she said under her breath.

Suppressing an “oww,” Zoe cut her gaze right. An old man stood on the corner, skinny as a pogo stick, and as dark-skinned as a coffee bean. Wild, white hair, like wisps of cotton, framed his face. Warm brown eyes smiled, and a wide, flat nose perched atop the half-moon of his mouth. The sparkling teeth against that richly colored skin were enough to blind her in the midday sun. Wow.

His grin stretched even further when he noticed her looking at him, and he nodded. “Yeah, you, blondie girl. Got something for ya.” He held up an object, smaller than the palm of his hand, and waved her over.

A loud huff barreled from Mother’s throat. Since they were in public, on a crowded street, Zoe had no concerns about the man chopping off her head or dragging her into an alley for evil purposes. Hell, she was taller than he was. Despite her gangly physique, she doubted he could even lift her off the ground.

“
Zoe—” Tension clipped Mother’s voice.