The Good Sister: Part One (10 page)

“The house was pretty.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“What did the words on the back mean?”

“A dream,” he answered.

“Oh. And how is your friend. Wasn’t his name John Paul?”

“Yes, he is fine.”

“Still painting?”

“Yes.”

“And you? Have you tried your hand at painting or just photography?”

“Just photography,” Reid replied.

“Your picture was great; you might have a hidden talent.”

“Trinity?”

“Yes?”

“I really hate to cut this call short, but I need to get off the phone. I’m late for something. I wanted to tell you…” He hesitated.

“What?”

“It’s been good talking to you.”

“Will I see you for Christmas?” I asked.

“No. I won’t be home this year.”

I felt my buoyancy deflate. I knew one of my greatest fears was happening. Reid wouldn’t be coming home. I may never see him again. Someday his life would take him away permanently. He would leave me behind.

“Trinity, are you still there?”

“Yes,” I said as I took a hold of the weakling lurking inside me, strangling it off. “It was good to talk to you too, Reid.”

“Trinity, would it be okay if I called you sometime?”

I blinked, unsure if I heard him right.

“You want to call me?”

“Yes. Would that be okay?”

“If you would like,” I said. I was giving him the choice.

“I would like.”

“Then I guess I might speak with you again, but if not—”

“Do you think I am lying to you? That I won’t call you?” His voice sounded miffed. I imagined that flicker of anger in his eyes.

“No. I think you have intentions of calling, but sometimes our intentions and our actions are two different things. Sometimes life gets in the way, and I know you, unlike me, have a life.”

“Well then, I guess you will be surprised the next time we talk. And I believe you will owe me an apology for doubting my word.”

“Yes, I guess I will.”

“It was really great talking to you. I do mean that, Trinity.”

“You too, Reid. It was good to hear from you. Be well, and goodbye.”

“It’s not goodbye, it’s I will speak with you soon.”

“Soon,” I said, and then the line went dead.

I sat bewildered, perhaps more than bemused, as I stared almost absent-mindedly out the window of the study. I wondered why I couldn’t be that woman all the time. Not just confident over the phone, but confident in person. Then I broke with the thought of not seeing Reid. It was only a matter of time. Soon, he would no longer think of me. I wanted to be real to him. I wanted him to take notice, to see me.

I heard the
ticking
of the grandfather clock in the background. With each tick it pulled up a memory. I closed my eyes and remembered what Reid looked like the day I snuck into his room to find him in the shower. How Reid took care of me the day I fell and cut my ankle. I recalled the afternoon he sat and told me stories of his football days in high school. I smiled with the memory of Reid trying to explain surfing. Since I wouldn’t go with him to the beach, he used his surfboard on the grass beside the guesthouse. He went through all the motions, jumping up, placing his body in a surfing stance, and pretending there was a wave.

I leaned back in the desk chair and recalled Reid’s story about a crazy party he attended his first year in college where everyone wore togas made out of bed sheets. I remembered his offer to take me for a ride when he got his new Jaguar. He looked sincerely disappointed when I of course turned him down. I remembered the look of anger on his face when he threatened L.J. over me. How he brought me a pizza one afternoon and we ate it while we listened to music and played poker. I recalled watching a movie with him, in the media room at the estate. Reid kept bugging me by throwing popcorn in my hair. Reid would taunt and tease me, other times he would go out of his way to be nice wanting to please me, but most of all I remembered how I felt that night in the moonlight when he called me beautiful.

I flipped around in the leather desk chair
.
I
pulled my hair up, securing it with a rubber band then buckled down to finish my job for Mrs. Addison. I’d come to a decision, and knew what I needed to do.

December 25
^th

I woke to the sound of my cell phone ringing a bell tone of Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata
. It was probably Bentley calling to wish me a Merry Christmas. After all, this phone was only used for access to someone when I was alone. It was my “in case of emergencies” phone. It wasn’t as though my social life was so hopping that I was on the cell phone all the time. In fact, I could count all the times this particular phone had rung on one hand.

I scrubbed at my eyes before I glanced over to see the time on the alarm clock. It was 5:47 in the morning. I groaned, wondering why Bentley would call so early. I grabbed the slick black phone, in not quite a huff, and flipped it open.

A yawn. “Hello.”

“Merry Christmas, Trinity.”

I briefly pulled the phone from my ear and stared at it. For a moment I wondered if I were dreaming. I pinched my thigh then winced. I was awake.

“Trinity?”

I pulled in a breath, placed the phone back to my ear, and gave myself permission to speak.

“Merry Christmas, Reid.”

“Sorry it took me so long to call you back. I know you didn’t believe I would call you. I can hear the disbelief in your voice.”

“I didn’t think you ever would call, but I’m glad you did.”

“Thank you for not hanging up on me,” Reid returned.

“What time is it there?”

“Ten till three in the afternoon. There’s a nine hour time difference.”

“So did you have a good Christmas? What are you doing?” I asked.

Reid chuckled. The sound was like coming home.

“Sure, I had a good Christmas. Right now I’m just sitting by the fire, looking out the window and watching the snowflakes fall. It’s snowing here.”

“Snowing? I bet it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is. It looks like a forest of white.”

I closed my eyes, listening to Reid’s voice, and tried to picture what he saw. “Reid…” I hesitated.

“What, baby bird?”

“Is there a pond on the property?”

“Yes, why?”

“I just imagined a pond.”

“Huh, good guess, you were right.”

“Do you like living in France?”

A breath. I imagined Reid running his fingers through his hair then resting his hand on the back of his neck.

“Sure.”

There was something going on in the background. It sounded like voices, in descript, but voices nonetheless.

“Is that John Paul?” I asked.

“Yes,” Reid said. “Hang on, Trinity.” Reid was speaking to someone. He sounded like he was upset. “I am on the phone. Can you give me a moment?”

A pause rang out then a buzzing of a voice in the distance.

Reid answered the voice in the background. “I know. I’ll be there.”

Another pause, more buzzing, a commotion, laughter…

“Fuck,” Reid muttered. It seemed as though he was holding the phone farther away, possibly covering the phone with his hand. Nothing else for a long moment. “Baby bird, are you still with me?”

“Yes,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry for the interruption.”

“It sounds like you have a house full of roommates.”

“Always. What’s your plan for today? Are you looking forward to opening up your presents?”

“It’s just my mother and I this year. Bentley stayed in Georgia so no big plans, and I already opened my Christmas present.”

“What did you get?”

“Jogging shoes.”

Reid sounded shocked. “Jogging shoes?”

“Yeah. Pink and white Nike’s.”

“Jogging?” he asked, again.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

I’d started jogging. First, my goal was to make it a few feet, then a few more, and a few more. I made progress, and was jogging around the long palm lined road.

“But, you don’t leave the estate.”

“Reid, I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I will be leaving the estate.”

“What do you mean?” Reid’s voice sounded worried. I began twirling one of my curls around my finger as I spoke.

“After the first of the year you won’t be able to get ahold of me. I’m going back into the hospital.”

“Tell me why, baby bird?”

“There are things I need to deal with. I have decided if I continue to run away from what I fear, or maybe I should say hide away, I will always be locked behind closed doors. I don’t want to live this closed off life, Reid. I want more than what you see in me.”

I dropped my hand from my hair to the bed.

“I see more than you may believe.” Reid paused for a moment. “Give me the address. I will send your pictures there.”

“I can’t receive or send mail, and I can only call out one time a month, which I am sure will be to my mother. She worries a lot. So—”

“So I won’t be able to talk with you for a month or two?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess this means I will need to call you every day until you go.”

I giggled, and twisted my hand around the corner of my blanket. “You don’t have to do that. I know you are busy with much more important things.”

“I want to do it, Trinity.”

“Why?”

A long silence filled in the space between us.

“Trinity, you are my friend, and I miss seeing you, talking to you.”

He missed me?

“Okay, Reid.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Okay then,” he said, as if things were settled and our relationship made any sense at all. “Trinity, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever tried taking medications to help?” He paused briefly then clarified, “To help with the fears?”

“Yes, but I had a bad reaction to a couple of them. I never really liked how I felt body wise with some of the others so I just live with the fear.”

“I sort of worry about you.”

If he worried then he thought of me, he cared.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

A breath.

“Listen. I have to go, but I will call you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I confirmed. “Merry Christmas, Reid.”

“Merry Christmas, my baby bird.”

****

January 5
^th

I held on to my cell phone like it was my lifeline, but Reid hadn’t called. I was seriously considering calling him, but the phone number was a private number so I had no way of calling him back, no idea how to actually get ahold of Reid. His whereabouts, while he did stay in contact, were unknown to me.

I glanced over to the picture of the chateau. I guessed he was staying just outside of a small village, perhaps even in the chateau I had one solitary picture of, but I couldn’t be sure. I based this guess on the fact all of his last correspondence changed from random postmarks to one postmark. Besides, there was something about the picture of the chateau he sent, and the way it was sent, that made me assume he was there. Spending time with a woman.

My cell phone rang. It roused me out of the beginnings of a nightmare.

“Hello,” I answered.

I heard a sigh, a deep breath, and a
burbling
sound in the background. I thought it might be a coffee maker.

“Trinity, I’m so sorry.”

“Reid, what are you doing? It’s two in the morning.”

“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to blow you off. There was a blizzard here and I was snowed in without any phones. All of my stuff, including my cell phone, was in another location so I couldn’t call you. I know you probably don’t believe me, and you probably think I am a huge asshole—”

“I’ve always thought you were an asshole, so not calling me did not change my original opinion.”

Reid laughed. “You have always thought I’m an asshole?”

“Sure, why not.”

“So, do you forgive me?”

“Reid, there is nothing to forgive. Friendship is unconditional.”

“Unconditional,” he agreed, but sounded as though he was trying to convince himself. “So when are you leaving?”

“In the morning.” I caught myself. “Well, I guess it is morning now, so in a few hours,” I amended, stretching. I made a contented little sound of pleasure as the bed springs popped.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m in bed. What else would I be doing at this hour?”

“No, I mean what was that noise?”

“I don’t know. I was stretching, my bed squeaked.”