Decisions by Pascal Francine

Author:Pascal, Francine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-01-26T16:00:00+00:00

Nine

Jittery with nerves, Robin perched on the arm of the sofa and twisted her fingers together. From the kitchen the sound of her mother clattering dishes together put Robin even more on edge. Any minute now her aunt would arrive. Robin thought she would be sick just thinking about the confrontation. Part of her wanted to put it off for as long as possible, and another part of her just wanted to get it over with—like ripping off a bandage in one sharp movement.

"I'll just tell her I haven't decided yet, that I'm not sure," she whispered under her breath. She bit her lower lip. "There's nothing wrong with that."

At least the boys, Adam and Troy, were out at a late baseball practice. Robin could be glad they were out of the way, anyway, and not rushing around creating their usual chaos.

A car door slammed out in the street. "Mom! She's here," Robin croaked. She jumped to her feet as she spoke and hurried to a front window. Outside, a taxi had pulled up to the curb, and the driver was just opening the trunk. As Robin watched, the back door opened.

Fiona Maxwell, one of New York City's most respected artists, emerged from the backseat of the cab. Tall, gray-haired, and elegantly dressed, she stood on the sidewalk and surveyed the house. Then she turned slowly to appraise the surrounding houses and barked an order to the driver. Robin could see her aunt's lips move as she gestured regally for him to carry her luggage up to the door.

Robin felt herself stiffen with anxiety. Even before her aunt was in the house, the sheer force of her personality was making itself felt. In another moment she would be there, judging them, criticizing every little thing, or else deciding that some detail actually met with her sky-high standards.

"Oh—here she is, and I look terrible," Mrs. Wilson said, patting her short brown hair nervously as she ran in from the kitchen. She tugged on Robin's elbow. "Don't just stand there! Come say hello to your aunt."

Robin forced herself to follow her mother to the front door. As they reached it, there was a loud, impatient knocking sound.

"Well, you decided to let me in, I see," Fiona Maxwell announced as Mrs. Wilson opened the door.

"Oh, Fiona, it's so good to see you! I didn't mean to keep—"

"I know! I'm just teasing you! Well, I must say," she continued, sweeping in through the door, "I always forget what a small town this is. Over here, driver."

The taxi driver, looking harassed and exhausted, lugged her Gucci suitcases in and deposited them in the hallway. But his eyes lit up when Ms. Maxwell tipped him ten dollars. Robin and her mother stood by silently, waiting.

"So . . . " Unwrapping the silk scarf from her throat, Fiona Maxwell turned slowly around in the living room, looking down her nose at every detail. With a critical sniff she fingered the necklace of chunky semiprecious stones she was wearing and gave a firm nod.

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