AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She knew every nook and cranny of the campus, every corner, and stair held a memory for her. Every Christmas of her life had been spent there. Every year she went to the traditional lighting of the tree on Christmas Eve, sang carols, and drank spectacularly bad cocoa out on the green with everyone else who left behind on the mostly empty campus.
Every year she ate dinner with her father, a dinner made by the same restaurant for the last decade. If that place closed, he would find another one. That was the way things were.
Only this year her father would not be there. So why was she resisting Connor’s suggestion so much?
She was not sure. She only knew that some stubborn streak inside of her would not let her bend even though deep down inside she wanted to.
She handed him the small box that she had brought into the kitchen with her and a container of cookies. She could not meet his eyes. “I hope you have a lovely Christmas.”
She knew he was angry, and she did not blame him. Tears stood out in her eyes but she refused to shed them as he said, “I hope you do as well,” and then walked out.
**
The next afternoon her doorbell rang and her heart leaped into her chest. Could it be Connor? Could he have decided that he needed to be with her? Hope warred with her practical side as she went to the door.
The woman standing there was nobody she recognized. Her face was lovely but showed signs of bad living, lines, and veins that the surgeries that had given her eyes a slight tilt and her mouth a full-fledged pout could not hide. A fur coat, ruffled by the wind, and a fur hat framed her face, making Sandra feel like she should know the woman. Behind the woman’s head, Sandra could see a long black car with dark-tinted windows sitting on the curb with its engine purring smoothly and smoke puffing from its exhaust.
Sandra opened the door, a frown marring her forehead. “Can I help you?”
“Your father said you had turned into a lovely woman,” she said in a low and smoky contralto. Her voice was instantly recognizable. That voice had never faded from Sandra’s memory although her face had. Not that she still wore the face that she had when she had been a young mother on a college campus.
Sandra’s mouth went dry, beyond dry, arid. Her head spun and her thoughts shot off into a thousand different directions. The wind kicked up, driving icy needles of sleet before it. Raine Madigan shivered theatrically and gave Sandra a winning smile. “May I come in?”
Sandra’s instinct was to slam the door in her face, just close it just like she had closed the front door of their house the day she had walked out. “Why are you here?”
“Do you want bullshit platitudes and tales of woe or will a simple ‘I was in the neighborhood’ suffice?”
“I hate platitudes.” Despite herself, Sandra was amused and she stood aside so her mother could enter.
“Then we are on the same page.”
Raine shed the coat and hat to reveal a body honed into lean perfection. The black sweater she wore had a scooped neck. She had chosen to pair the sweater with trousers made of Egyptian cotton, far too flimsy for the weather. Her perfume hung heavy on the air, a spicy musky scent that made Sandra think of sandalwood and dried flowers.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Do you have whisky?”
“I have wine. It is not very expensive.”
“Fine.”
Sandra went to the kitchen and took a bottle of chilled Bordeaux out of her refrigerator, opened it and poured a generous glass. She had had some of the wine with dinner and she rarely drank more than a single glass in a day but she needed some fortification so she poured herself a healthy glassful as well.
Raine took the glass, sipped, and sighed. “I miss France.”
“I guess you would.”
“I’m too old to worry about whether or not you hate me.”
The words were bald, and unkind. Sandra flinched. “I do not doubt that you never considered my feelings.”
Raine leaned back in the chair, tapping one toe of her fashionable Italian leather boots onto the floor. “I do not suppose you ever considered mine.”
Sandra sighed and tried to push aside the anger that was forcing its way to the surface. “I did not expect to see you.”
“I know. I did not expect to see you either but here we are. Can I smoke in here?”
“No.” It came out more sharply than she intended.
