HARMONY

Part 3 "The house made of cards"

May 2008

The blade sliced into the children. Perfect lines cut by rushed fingers gripping the exacto-knife. Damn. Nicked myself  Michelle thought. She licked the red dripping from her manicured hand. Returning to the photograph, she slapped glue on the back and pressed it onto the hibiscus scrapbook page. A splat made a direct hit on the picture of her family standing before the Kauai waterfall. With a kitchen towel, she dabbed. A slight stain remained. Sunlight crept through the French doors to illuminate the photo. 

Her family posed in paradise. Michelle wore a fabulous print dress, shell necklace and a fresh orchid tucked in her auburn hair. I do kinda look like Sandra Bullock, she thought. Her smile—pulled across her face with obvious effort—contrasted with the scowl of both her teenagers. Drew, in his pressed shorts, polo shirt, and deck shoes, stood soldier-like as the tallest in the family. His muscular build and sun-kissed complexion should have reflected enjoyment, not misery. Next to Drew, Claire's slender body. A faded purple T-shirt, cut-off jeans, and holey Converse also appeared out of place. Michelle smoothed the photo. Would it have killed Claire to wear the dress?  Steve stood behind his family—arms out-stretched and smile practiced. His Tommy Bahamas shirt, worn Rainbow sandals and mop of sandy hair gave the only hint of a family vacation.  

    Entering the kitchen, Claire plopped her overstuffed macramé bag on the granite counter top. Her leather journal slid out with a collection of sketch pencils and a canister of pepper spray. She tucked them back inside and headed to the fridge. Without looking in her mom's direction, she began pushing aside Tupperware brimming with leftovers. "I need twenty bucks," she said and grabbed a yogurt. "And a ride to Sophias's on your way to Drunko."

    "Bunko," Michelle said. She twisted her hair into a knot and then let it untangle to fall in loose brown curls against her shoulders.

    Claire took a bite. "Why don't we ever have anything good to eat?"  The yogurt got tossed into the trash compactor. 

    "I just went to the store. There's plenty."

    "Ya," Claire said. She pulled her ruffian-black hair back into a messy ponytail. "If you're a total Neanderthal with a thing for week-old factory farm food."

    "You should eat more protein."  Michelle's critical-mom eyes glared at Claire's waist. "What do you need money for?" 

With a tug, Claire arranged her loose fitting T-shirt down over her jeans. "So, ride to Sophia's?"

Michelle blew on the photograph to set the glue. "Are her, um—well, we can call them parents—are they home?"  She flipped through several photographs, looked at the time blinking on the Espresso machine and mumbled, "Damn. Wanted to show this to everyone tonight."

Claire emerged from the pantry, elbow deep in a box of multigrain crackers. She stood over the photos and rolled her eyes. "That was last summer's vacation and the only one who cares about our stupid family photos is Nana."  Crunch. "And she doesn't know who we are half the time."  She flicked crumbs into the sink. "So, twenty bucks and Sophia' s?"

    Michelle's phone buzzed with a text.

"That dad?"

    Michelle looked at the screen and caught her breath. She flipped the phone over. "Uh, no, it's a..... a business call."

    The phone continued to buzz and Michelle shifted in her chair. She tried to scoop the remaining photos into the snap top box labeled "Hawaii summer 2007" but they scattered across the marble floor like water from a leaky bucket.

    "Oh my god, Mom," Claire said. "What's wrong with you?"

    Buzz. Buzz.

    "Nothing, honey."  She put the towel over the phone. "Must be this May heat making my fingers sweat."

     "Whatever."

    Michelle gathered her scrapbook and her buzzing phone. "I'm sorry I can't take you to Sophia's, but Drew will be home any minute—he'll take you."

    "He's a total dick."  Claire leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "Sophia's is on the way."

    Michelle put forty bucks on the table. "Give twenty to your brother for gas and keep twenty. "  She hurried to the garage. "And be home by eleven."

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