Her Sister (Search For Love series) (7 page)

The
motorcycle zoomed up the street with enough destructive noise to wake every
zombie on the planet.  Clare was sure the house shook as it pulled into her
driveway and she glanced out the window.  The figure on the bike wore a black
helmet.

Clare
had just gotten home, checked on Shara who was still not talking to her and had
begun to stir together a meatloaf.  Now she stopped when there was a pounding
on her kitchen door.

"Just
a minute," she called, washing, and soaping, and washing her hands again. 
She carried the towel with her as she went to the door.

When she
opened it, the man said, "Mark Hansen.  You must be Clare."

Brad's
father was all good-looking charm, mussed hair, motorcycle helmet under his
arm.  She wasn't sure if she should let him inside the house or not, so she
stood where she was.  As far as she was concerned, he'd been rude, as rude
could be.

It
seemed that he knew that.  He gave her a boyish smile.  "I thought I'd
come over in person to apologize."

She
didn't know if she wanted Shara to hear this conversation, so she told him
that.  "My daughter's home and I don't want her to overhear.  Do you mind
if we talk in the carport?"

"Not
at all."  He stood down the two steps and waited for her to do the same. 

His
gaze canvassed her, from bangs to espadrilles.  This was a man who was used to
women falling at his feet.  She could tell.

"I
didn't mean to be so flip on the phone," he said, his smile still
lingering.  "I talked to Brad and hopefully convinced him that young love
isn't what it cracked up to be.  I warned him that Shara is definitely too young
for him to be involved with her."

Was
that why Shara was holed up in her room?  Because Brad broke up with her? 
Clare wished her daughter would talk to her, really talk.

"Did
Brad agree with you?"

"Let's
just say a little bribery doesn't hurt.  I convinced him I'd pay to get his
bike overhauled."

"And
that's all it took?"

"You
must know how young men think, Clare.  What he thinks he wants today, he won't
want tomorrow.  Boys his age want immediate gratification.  But I pointed out
that sometimes that gratification will get him into very hot water."

This is
what Clare wanted, of course.  On the other hand, she'd hoped Shara had chosen
a boy who would really care about her.  If Brad would give her up so easily,
then he really was a teen-age jerk.

"Do
you believe Brad when he tells you he'll stop seeing her?"

"Sure."

She
tilted her head and studied him.  "You don't think he's telling you what
you want to hear, so he can do what he wants."

"Boy,
you are suspicious."

"I'm
cautious."

"Brad
and I look out for each other.  When his mom left, we knew we had to count on
each other."

How she
wished she and Shara could count on each other.  Shara could count on her.  She
just didn't realize it.  "I'm glad we could settle this.  Shara's going to
be hurt, but a little bit of hurt now is better than a lot of hurt later."

"You're
right about that," he agreed.

Clare
thought he'd turn and go, but he didn't.  His gaze ran over her again until he
asked, "How would you like to go out this weekend?  I know a great club—"

"No."

He
blinked as if he never expected that.  "No?  Just like that?  Without even
thinking about it?"

"First
of all, I don't date.  I have too much on my plate.  And second of all, Shara
would think I was knifing her in the back if I went out with you."

"You
wouldn't have to tell her."

"I
don't keep secrets from my daughter."

"Brad
was right, you are as straight as they come.  No fun at all.  Maybe that's why
your daughter has turned to her wild side."

And
with that, Mark Hansen turned, hopped on his bike, started it up, and vroomed
out of her driveway.  She watched as he rode down the street, hardly stopped at
the stop sign, then took a right.

This
was exactly what she'd wanted, wasn't it?  Then why had the whole conversation
made her feel empty inside?  The night air was turning cooler and she rubbed
her arms, a chill running up her back.  Maybe she was over-reacting to
everything.

"Clare."

When
she heard Joe call her name, she over-reacted to that, too.  Why, after all
this time with him as her neighbor, she was suddenly more nervous around him,
she didn't know.  Maybe because she'd told him something personal, something
she didn't talk about with anyone, not even her parents.  Especially not with her
parents.

The
idea that Lynnie could be alive—

She was
glad Joe came to the back entrance of her carport just then, glad she had
something to distract her.

"Hey,"
she said with a smile.  "You're home early."

He gave
her a wry grimace.  "Some days I do get home in time for dinner at my own
house instead of buying take-out."

"You
work a lot."

"Yeah,
I do, but that's because there's nothing waiting for me at home."

She
couldn't tell exactly how he meant the statement, but it seemed to be an
opening line to something else, some insight about him, some yearning he still had.

Now she
was really over thinking.  "Did the motorcycle bother you?"

"Not
since he left."

She
laughed.  "That was the dad of the boy Shara was dating."

"
Was?
"

"Hopefully
was
.  He said he talked with Brad and made him realize he's too old for
Shara.  But if he broke up with her, I'll have to contend with that."

"I
wanted to talk to you about Shara."

"I
don't understand."  Did he want to give her advice on how to raise her
teen-age daughter?  She needed it, but she waited, not wanting to jump to any
conclusions.

"I
didn't just get home early today.  I worked at home all day catching up on
bookkeeping.  So before I accuse Shara of something she didn't do—Did she have
the day off school?  The afternoon off?  Something like that?"

"No."

"Then
she cut classes because she was here this afternoon.  I was in the kitchen
around one and I saw her going into the house."

Cutting
class again.  More to add to the grounding list.  "I don't know what to do
with her."

"She
won't talk?"

Clare
just rolled her eyes.

"She
probably learned that from you, the eye-rolling, I mean."

She
realized he was probably right.  "Thanks for telling me about her being
here today.  I'm going to have to tell her you saw her.  Will that be a
problem?"

"Not
for me.  She'll probably call me a tattle-tale, but I've been called
worse."

Again
Clare had to smile in spite of everything.  She liked Joe's sense of humor. 
She liked the way he put things in perspective.  She certainly needed that
right now.

"I'd
better go in and put the meatloaf in the oven.  Then she and I have to talk. 
I'd invite you to supper, but–"

"Yeah,
I have a feeling that's not some place I'd like to be tonight."

"I'd
rather skip it myself."

Unexpectedly
he laid his hand on her shoulder.  "Don't be too hard on yourself.  Being
a parent is the toughest job in the world, I hear."

The
touch of his hand on her shoulder created sensations in her she hadn't felt in
a very long time.  There was heat and a bit of excitement and a deep-down
longing that once belonged to a dream.

But she
didn't know if she wanted to dream again and she would have backed away, but
she didn't have to because he dropped his hand.  "Take care, and if you
need to call in the troops, I'm only a phone call away."

When he
loped back to his house, it was hard for Clare to tear her eyes from him.  She
did, though, because she had more than one responsibility that prohibited
dreams.

****

Teenagers
on lunch break roamed the campus on Monday as Shara stood in the shade of the
bleachers with Brad.  He was looking everywhere but at her and that scared
her.  Why couldn't he look her in the eye?  Why was he constantly checking his
watch?  Why couldn't he be like Justin?  She'd e-mailed him a lot over the
weekend.  He was always there for her and seemed to understand everything she
was feeling.

Maybe
Brad would too, once he knew.

"I
know my mom probably scared you."

"Nobody
scared me," he protested, still looking down at his sneakers.

"I
have some news that could change everything."

Now he
did give her a glance.  "What kind of news?  Did you win the lottery or
something?"

She
supposed money could change her life, but not as much as this.  "I'm
pregnant."

Now he stared
at her but he didn't speak.  His jaw had dropped open a little.  He looked as
if there had been an earthquake and he was barely left standing.  Welcome to
the club.  She knew what that felt like.

He lay
out a string of curse words her mother would be totally unhappy with.  She
didn't like them much herself.  She grabbed his arm.  "Brad, this is
serious.  We have to figure out what we're going to do."

He went
rigid and now his stare almost hurt her in its intensity.  "
We're
not going to do anything.  I have nothing to do with this.  It's on you.  You
should have been on birth control.  What sixteen year old girl these days
isn't?"  His voice had gone up with each word and other kids were staring at
them now, other kids who thought they were having a fight, other girls who
would be glad they were no longer together, because then Brad might date them.

He tore
away from her and began to walk away.  She called his name but he didn't look
back.

A blond
in her lit class brushed by her and murmured, "Breaking up?  That's
tough."

Word
would spread about what had happened.  She didn't think anyone had been within
earshot to hear about her being pregnant, but she never knew.  And even if no
one had heard, in a few months, everyone would know.  What was she going to do?

****

The
breakfast smells of scrambled eggs and bacon, along with coffee, filled Clare's
small house, as she hurried down the hall to rap on Shara's door again Tuesday
morning.  She'd done that once earlier...before she'd assembled breakfast and
called to her daughter.  She hadn't heard a reply but that wasn't unusual.

She and
Shara had had more than one go-around over the weekend about cutting class.  Clare
had threatened to pack up the desktop computer sitting in Shara's room and give
it to Goodwill.  It was a bit of a dinosaur, but it still worked for what Shara
needed.  Clare had passed it down when she'd gotten her laptop.

Shara
had looked wild-eyed and panicked at Clare's threat, mumbling about not being
able to do the schoolwork she did have.  So Clare had hesitated.  Why did she
never know exactly what to do?

Breakfast
was usually cereal or toast.  Had she felt guilty she'd been so angry lately? 
And cooking put her in a better mommy league?

When
Clare opened Shara's door, she didn't see her daughter right away, but that
didn't concern her.  Maybe Shara was digging in her closet for something to
wear today.  The covers were thrown back on the bed as if she'd just climbed
out.

"Shara?"

No
answer.  The closet door was open, but Shara was nowhere to be found.

Where
was she?

Clare's
gaze automatically went to the small step stool shaped like a cat that her
mother had given Shara when she was three.  That's where her backpack usually
landed.  There was no backpack there.  Had she already left for school without
saying anything?  She might do that if she was angry and rebelling.

Warning
herself to stay calm, Clare wished she let Shara have a phone.  But she hadn't
wanted the extra expense.  Besides, she'd seen a phone as a privilege Shara had
to earn and she hadn't yet.

Going
to the closet, immediately Clare saw Shara's newest pair of sneakers were
missing.  She was probably wearing those.  But her cowboy boots were gone, too.

A
tremble of fear crawling up her spine, Clare went through Shara's clothes.  She
knew them by heart.  She was in this closet more than her daughter was,
cleaning it out, hanging up laundry, looking for anything that wasn't
appropriate.  She'd become the fashion police lately.

Her
breath caught when she realized a pair of jeans were missing, the ones with the
embroidered pockets.  So were the ones Clare knew had holes in them.  A pair of
khakis she'd bought a few weeks ago along with a red blouse were missing, too. 
Over-the-top scared now, Clare went to the drawer where Shara kept sports
clothes.  A pair of sweats and a few T-shirts were gone.