The Good Sister: Part One (11 page)

“Oh, it sounded…” Reid stopped.

“Sounded like what?”

“Never mind,” he said. “So we have a few hours to spend together?”

“Uh….”

“I want to talk to you until you go or until your cell phone gives out from lack of battery. Will you keep on the line with me until you go?”

“Sure,” I said.

He asked me about the hospital and wanted to know if I was afraid. I gave him the typical routine. As I spoke I remembered one of my last stays where I overheard one of the orderlies speaking to the floor nurse.

“Have you seen that poor little thing in room one-forty-one?” he said to the nurse.

“Yes, so sad,” the nurse replied.

“She started screaming. I tried to wake her and she freaked out even more when I roused her. Do you think she’ll end up extending her stay?” the orderly inquired.

“It’s possible. Sylvia has been here for twenty-one years.”

“No shit, the cat lady in room one-thirty-eight?”

The nurse answered, “Yes. I remember when Sylvia first came here. She was fifteen. Trinity reminds me of Sylvia. She’s scared of everything, including life. Sylvia pulled herself into a world of her own making, and just stayed there. She never came back into the real world.”

I would never forget Sylvia. Every square inch of the four walls that made up her room was covered in pictures of cats. And she’d sit by herself in the solarium, facing a window with her knees tucked up to her chest murmuring, “He will be here soon.”

I shivered at the thought of ending up like her.

“Trinity,” Reid called out.

“Oh, sorry,” I said then continued to explain this would not be my first time in the nuthouse. Reid must have disliked my choice of words.

“Don’t call it the nuthouse,” he insisted.

“Okay,” I agreed, “how about booby hatch?”

Reid chuckled then said, “No, don’t call it that either.”

Reid told me all about the sights and sounds of France. He explained things down to the details. It was like I was with him. The phone went away and I allowed my imagination to travel. I crossed over the vastness that separated us. Traversed the ocean, the rivers, the mountains, the valleys, until I came to the chateau door.

“Come inside,” Reid offered, “it’s far too cold outside.”

I stepped inside, took off my cap, gloves and coat. I hung them on the hook behind the front door. I walked over to the large rock fireplace where I took a seat on the rough rocky hearth, which protruded proudly out into the room. It was cold, so I lifted my hands to the roaring fire, rubbing them together, trying to cut the chill.

Reid asked, “Want some hot cocoa?”

“Sure.”

With no further conversation Reid turned for the kitchen. I heard him as he opened and slammed cabinet doors.

“Do you need some help?” I shouted out.

“Nope,” Reid replied.

I quietly got up. Peeked into the kitchen to see Reid’s mouth as it bent up ever so slightly with a tender smile. He placed two cocoa mugs on a finely detailed silver serving tray that had probably belonged to this chateau forever, being handed down from generation to generation, of course. Reid took a deep calming breath, straightened his dark blue thermal crew then pushed the long sleeves up to his elbows. He picked up the tray and paused for one moment. I didn’t want him to know I was spying on him so I padded back into the sitting room, finding once again the comfort of the raging fire.

Reid walked over and placed the tray beside me. He gathered up two large puffy marshmallows, plopping them into my cocoa before he handed me the warm mug.

“Thanks!”

“You’re welcome. I figured you liked marshmallows,” he said, grinning goofily.

“I love ‘em.”

I grasped the warm mug between both hands. Lifted the steamy sweet concoction to my face, allowing both the warmth of the rising steam and the pleasing smell of chocolate to caress my senses. Reid looked down at his mug as soon as I lifted my gaze toward him.

I was sitting with him by the roaring fire, listening to the crackle, and almost felt the warmth of the open rock fireplace as the heat radiated out against my skin. I wrapped myself into the folds of his velvet voice, allowing the fantasy of the life I so longed to live with him.

Soon,
I thought. The
beeping
of my cell phone started. It was going to die.

“Reid, my phone is going to die,” I interjected.

“Trinity?”

“What?”

“Will you call me if you can?”

“I don’t have your phone number, plus I don’t know where you are staying.”

There was a silence. The crackle of the fire in the background. A breath.

“011 33 6 2314 5687,” Reid said. “Call me when you can, baby bird.”

“I’ll try. Goodbye, Reid.”

“Not goodbye, it’s I will talk with you later,” Reid corrected.

“I will talk with you later, Reid.”

“Yes…” Reid confirmed then my phone blinked out.

I stared off into space, wondering at what I was going to do.

“Trinity!” I heard my mother’s voice call to me through my closed bedroom door.

I stood, brushed back my hair then opened up the door. My suitcases were packed, ready to go.

“Aunt Jane is here,” my mother announced. “Are you sure you want to go and stay with her for a few months?”

“Yes, mother. I have to do something. I cannot stay locked away forever. Besides, her house isn’t in town, so I’ll be fine.”

“You will call me every day, right?”

“I will call you every week. I want some time, mom.”

“All right, love.”

“I will be fine,” I assured as I grabbed up the two bags from the bed. Remembering my phone I turned on my heel, threw my charger and my cell phone into my purse then headed out to meet my Aunt.

“Trinity!” Aunt Jane pulled me into her arms and hugged me. I stiffened and squirmed a bit. She let go. “You look wonderful,” Jane said. She eyed me. “No more glasses, and no more baggy clothing,” my Aunt commented.

“Yeah,” I said.

My Aunt picked up one of my bags. “Don’t worry, Francis. Trinity will be fine,” she assured my mother, making her way to the door. I followed behind her.

“You take care of my little girl, Jane.”

“I’ll be nineteen soon. I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself,” I interjected with the roll of my eyes.

“I will, Francis. She’s my brother’s daughter, and I love her too. I will take good care of her. Anyway, since Stephen left, it’s just us girls.” Jane gave me a wink. “We are fancy free, sweet.”

My mother hugged me as if this were the last time she would see me. “I love you, Trinity.”

“I love you, too. Don’t worry, mom. I’ll be fine.”

I loaded my two bright red Samsung bags into the trunk of my Aunt’s car next to a winter coat. I shut the trunk, took a breath then took a seat on the passenger’s side. In the next moment I was holding onto my wishing rock, rubbing it with not quite frantic strokes. I closed my eyes when the ignition started…

“Trinity, we are here,” my aunt announced. I forced open my eyes. To my dismay I saw swarms of people going in and out the automatic glass doors. “Are you sure about this, sweet?”

“No, but I have got to try. If I don’t do this I will regret more than I already do. I have to find a way to let go of my fear. Let go of everything that holds me back. And I have to see Reid.”

“And you are sure this boy is what you want?”

“Aunt Jane, I have to know. I can’t live with what ifs.”

Jane smiled, and her deep blue eyes softened. “Trinity, you are the most extraordinary person I have ever met. I know you think of yourself as weak, but you are one of the strongest and bravest women I have ever had the privilege of knowing. You are a lot like my brother.”

“I am?”

“You are. You have a spirit that will never be broken. Your dad was like that. He had a spirit that was strong, a kind and loving heart, and a stubborn streak a mile long.” I smiled. Jane smiled back. We shared a moment together before Jane wiped a tear and straightened. “I will keep your secret, and I will help you with this because I believe in you. Just call me and let me know you are okay from time to time. That’s my only stipulation to this plan we have hatched.”

“I will, Aunt Jane.”

“And know if we get caught your mother will kill me.”

I hugged my Aunt briefly. “I love you, Aunt Jane.”

“I love you too, my sweet. Do you have enough cash?”

“I have all of my savings and the money Mrs. Addison gave me for working for her so I should be okay for a while.”

Jane reached into her purse and pulled out a wad of money, shoving it into my hand. “Call me when you get there.”

I frowned and handed back the money. “I will, but I can’t take this.”

“I want you to take it. Call it your in case of emergency stash,” Jane assured as she tucked the money back into my hand.

I nodded, placed the money into a zip pocket in my purse, made sure I had my passport then took a deep breath. My hand was shaking as I reached for the door-handle to the Audi. I paused, closed my eyes and thought about Reid.

“Don’t forget to take that coat. I bought it for you. It is winter, sweet. Not every place is like sunny California,” Jane said.

“Thank you,” I replied.
I pulled the handle, exited the safety of the car, walked to the trunk, and grabbed my two bags plus the long woolen winter coat. I took in a deep breath and walked forward into the crowd. My head spun. The familiar shimmer began to fill in the edges of my vision. I blinked a couple of times in an attempt to free my sight. I took another deep breath then turned to glance back. I waved to my aunt as Jane pulled away from the curb.

Reid…

I walked forward. I was sure to keep my eyes focused in front of me. I allowed the sounds to fade away, left the noise, the crowds, focused on my breaths by keeping them even. Then I focused on my heartbeats, counting them, and focused on my quest
.
I beat back the fear. Strangers brushed past me. I felt the periodic sweep of someone against my arm, but I kept walking. Flames of dryness licked up my throat. I no longer had any saliva. My eyes felt as though they would never stay open, but I kept my focus. In my mind I could see the chateau. I saw the color of Reid’s eyes as they shimmered silver. I clutched my bags, closed my hand around my wishing stone, and made my way to the counter.

“Place your seats into the upright positions. We will be landing at CDG international airport. The temperature in Paris is 7 degrees Celsius and 44 degrees Fahrenheit, with periodic cloud cover. We hope you enjoy your stay and thank you for flying Air France.” Then someone spoke in French. I assumed it was the same announcement.

Things were a blur, like I was caught in a dream unable to really understand how I was sitting inside this auto, heading to the Champagne region. I was on my way to a quaint hotel within the village upon which the postmark on Reid’s last few letters indicated Reid was staying, or at least staying near. I had my picture of the chateau along with his phone number. I would find him. I had to. I closed my eyes and drifted into that world in which I lived inside of my head with Reid.

“Demoiselle, we have arrived at your destination,” the deep voice of my driver rang through my senses. His French accent was the perfect sound of my imagination. Only this time I was not dreaming or imagining.

My eyelids lifted. I gaze out the side window of the taxi to see the beamed and plastered front of the hotel. I actually did this. I was in France, and there was no turning back now.

“Thank you,” I said with a slight grin. My curls fell around my face.

“Tu es le bienvenu,” he smiled tenderly then translated, “you are welcome.”

I paid the fee, grabbed my bags, opened up the door, and headed into my future, my future with Reid I hoped.

Once I was settled into my room I placed a collect call to my Aunt Jane. I informed Jane I arrived, and assured my aunt there was nothing to worry about. I would have to work on assuring myself next, which I did once I hung up. For two hours, I sat in a yoga pose, thinking of Reid.

In the morning I’d start my search for Reid. I decided, even if I found Reid, I would not reveal myself right away. I wanted time to understand what he was doing here, and needed time to decide how to gain his attention. Oh, I knew he would be shocked to see me in France, but I wanted more. When I finally allowed Reid to know I was here, it had to be in a spectacular fashion. The only problem, I wasn’t sure what exactly that spectacular fashion would be.

****

The sun was shining in through the shutters on the window, hitting me and the bed in long horizontal lines. When I turned over, the sheets were stiff, not my own. I looked around the room. Not my bedroom. I glanced at the vanity, the antique blue washing basin and pitcher. I gazed at the oval mirror, etched with winding vines around the corners that hung over the vanity. I looked at the claw foot tub that was tucked into the corner, then over to the large shuttered window. The dream-like quality seemed to break way to the knowledge I was really in France and not home in California. I actually made it, unsure of how, but for the first time in a long time I felt a real sense of accomplishment. This feeling was even better than when I walked down the drive, made it through the Lasik surgery or even when I put myself out into the world by jogging. Bits of confidence washed over me with a breath.