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Uncle Robert always got stressed during the cherry season and Carrie knew that Aunt Linda had sent him to a doctor in Polson for some tests recently.
“This has nothing to do with them, Mom,” she said. “Or you for that matter.”
“You’re a Jackson,” Cathy said tightly. “That makes it my business. Do you know who showed it to Linda, Carrie? Mrs. Terlecki. Half the town’s probably seen it, by now.”
Terlecki. The witch. Carrie should have known better than to even talk to her. She’d probably gone searching for dirt, the second Carrie’d left the school.
“Have you seen them, Mother?”
“It’s right there on the page! My daughter, posing as a centerfold. I thought I raised you better than that.”
“I meant,” said Carrie, gesturing for her mother to sit down at the computer. “Have you seen them on the internet?”
“You know I’m not good with computers. Wait. What do you mean, them?” Fresh horror dawned on Cathy’s face. “Are there more? Don’t tell me, Carrie, that you’ve done this more than once.”
“Mom,” she began.
“Stop. I don’t want to know. This isn’t the sort of thing a town like this forgets.”
“This isn’t… what you said,” she tried again, her words spilling out. “Photos like this are about empowerment, healing, making peace with certain things, sometimes. They’re called Goddess photos-”
“Goddess photos?” Cathy whirled around. “This isn’t San Francisco, Carrie. I knew we shouldn’t have let you go. But oh no, your grandfather insisted. He thought you were strong enough, and smart enough, to stay true to the values you’ve grown up with, and keep away from whatever immoral influences you might be exposed to out there. I guess he was wrong.”
“I don’t even do them anymore.” But what was the point? It might be part of Carrie’s past, but to everyone else, it was like she’d done it yesterday.
Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how much satisfaction she got from doing them, how much more beautiful and creative it could be than the same old family gatherings and class photos, year after year.
How much she’d missed it.
“You have no idea who I was out there,” she said, shocked to find her voice shaky with tears. “Or what I learned. Or how hard it is to be me, here, some days. I feel so… trapped sometimes.”
At that, Cathy grew still. Carrie didn’t normally speak to her mother that way. There was a certain satisfaction in finally telling her the truth.
“I know I’ve been hard on you, Carrie,” said her mother, quieter now. “It’s just that, I’ve always wanted so much for you. It’s so easy to make mistakes. People don’t forget mistakes. I wanted to keep you from taking a path you might regret.”
For a second, her mother’s face took on a faraway look that no child wanted to see, ever.
“Mom.” She reached out a hand, but Cathy recovered.
“You have a God-given talent, Carrie. It’s up to you to use that talent wisely. I only hope you’ll still have the opportunity to do so.”
She left then, closing the door quietly behind her.
Carrie had never been good enough to satisfy her mother. Grandpa Nate was the only one who’d ever truly supported her unconditionally, who’d encouraged her and lovingly bullied her into following her dreams.
She’d never had her mother’s approval. So why, now, was her mother’s disappointment so unbearable?
Carrie put her head in her hands and wept.
*
Ethan walked down the stairs to Carrie’s studio and over to her office where he found her, her arms crossed on top of her desk, cradling her head. His heart gave a little bump at the sight of that glossy hair, draping over her cheek like a wing of golden satin.
He tapped on the door. Carrie’s head whipped up and she swiped at her face.
“Your contact sensors are all done,” he said as she came to the door.
She opened it and ushered him in. “Great.”
Something was wrong. He heard it in her voice. Her shoulders were rounded and she kept her face averted. A frisson of alarm ran through him.
