Safely Home by Ruth Logan Herne Page B

again.
    *
    “I may need to kill her.”  Cress stared at Audra through the screened door mid-week and narrowed her gaze, hands clenched. “Or at least kill someone. And you happen to be right here. Which means—”
    Audra laughed, swung the door wider and stepped back. “Rough day?”
    “Rough day, rough month, rough…” She stopped, noting Audra’s look of appraisal. “Yeah. Rough day.”
    “Mm hmm.” Audra led Cress into the antiquated kitchen tha t could have stepped out of a black and white retro movie. “Sit. I’ll feed you. Ply you with alcohol. Then we’ll chat.”
    Cress shook her head. “No drinking. I swore off that about two years back when a really good day turned into a wretched night. Never again.”
    “Oooo….” Audra gave a sage nod as she held up a pitcher of tea in one hand, and a lemon in the other. “Sounds like a story worth telling.”
    Cress faked a grin. “Some other time, perhaps. Right now I need a break from moth-balled clothes, dusty shelves, and endless haranguing about anything and everything including my clothes, job and lifestyle in general.”
    Audra’s silence lent credence to Gran’s assessment. Seconds ticked by as she poured tea, sliced a lemon, and slid the sweet beverage in front of her sister. “Gran’s a smart old bird.”
    “Translation: you agree.”
    Audra made a face. “Does it matter, Cress? What Gran or I think?” She shook her head, glanced down to the table, then drew her gaze up, unhurried. “You’ve been here two weeks now. That’s more than we’ve seen you in nine years.”
    “Yeah.”
    Audra ran a finger around the condensation forming on the outside of her tumbler. Her action made rivulets of water flow along the glass surface, pooling against the protected finish of the old table. “It’s not hard to tell you’re troubled, Cress. Not for the people who love you.”
    Cress tapped her leg for emphasis. “Chronic pain makes people grumpy. Pretty understandable.”
    A faint smile brushed Audra’s lips before it nosedived into a frown. “Avoiding the issues is a no-win situation. They just look worse at the end of the day. Today might be a case in point.”
    Two things Cress hated right now. One , that her sister was right. James’s early morning voice mail left her dealing with convoluted questions culminating in witch-like behavior. Worse, she hated that Audra saw beyond Cress’s attempts to slough off her feelings by blaming a physical ailment. But was she ready to confide what she’d discovered about herself? That she was no better, no smarter, no stronger than those beleaguered women who sought refuge at the inner city shelters?
    Sheaves of emotion tied her gut. What was wrong with her? What had she been thinking? That things would get better, improve as James moved up the ladder of police success?
    She knew better. She was trained to know better, and that put her a leg up on most of society. The signs were there, growing more obvious the past year. Longer if she examined things more closely.
    And still she’d stayed. Tried to work things out. Made excuses.
    She couldn’t forgive herself for the latter. The excuses. The lies. The cover up. How one small fib led to another, until it all came to a violent head in early summer.
    Audra’s hand covered hers. “When you’re ready, I’m here.”
    Was it her sister’s touch that filled Cress’s eyes, or the words? Cress had no idea. A long blink sent a tear down her right cheek, then another. Audra gripped her hand with more pressure, then slid out of her chair to offer a hug. “It’ll be okay, Cress. Promise.”
    Would it? Cress wasn’t nearly as certain. Her mind’s eye graphed the pattern she’d created, one that stood in direct conflict with the Cress she showed the world. Tough. Acerbic. Smart.
    Audra’s hug felt good. Cress returned the embrace, wishing there’d been more time to stay close with her younger sisters. Wishing…
    She heaved a sigh, grabbed a napkin, sat