Page 25 of The Heiress
Despite their pleas for me to call back as soon as possible, I wasn’t in the mood to talk, sending a text to both Mom and Dad:Sorry I worried you, but I’m okay. I just wanted to be independent and do my own thing, but I’m here at the homestay house like you wanted. I’m going to turn my phone off for the weekend now. Love you, E xxx
It was pathetic, but it was the harshest payback I could think of...to ghost them for the next few days. Well, at least they knew where I was and that I was safe.
After staring at the ceiling and the walls for a while, I turned on the television, but there was nothing to hold my attention. And I was bored.
I crept down the stairs, wondering where Laura was. Maybe the floor squeaked or there were motion sensors in the house, because my name was called. I followed the sound down the hallway to a living room. Laura was curled up on the light colored couch, reading a paperback.
“Everything all right?” She turned her book upside down and placed it on the coffee table. “I was going to have some tea, can I get you something?”
“Sure,” I said with a smile. I wasn’t hungry in the least after my room service meal, but my throat was dry.
I followed Laura through to a large kitchen dining area. Her hair was tied up casually into a short ponytail and she wore a long baggy sweater over leggings. I sat on a high stool at the breakfast bar while she put a kettle on the stove top, and I realized she was making a drink of hot tea, not iced tea.
“What would you like?” Laura asked, bringing two cups out of the cupboard. “I have English tea, but there’s chamomile, lemon, green or peppermint.”
“I’ll have what you’re having,” I said. It was probably as good a time as any to try something new.
There was a sudden loud noise of a door opening and Laura placed the cups on the counter next to me and stalked toward the front entrance, frowning.
“What are you doing back?” Whoever had thundered in obviously hadn’t been expected.
“I didn’t wanna stay.”
I spun around on my seat at the sound of the familiar voice, my heart surging in my chest.
“Why didn’t you call?”
“Dad didn’t?” There was a lilt, an incredulous tone and my heart beat sped up, trying to make sense of the situation. Mrs. Pritchard had said Fi was away, and only now it sunk in that Fi wasn’t Fiesta. Or Phoebe.
It was Phoenix. Phoenix Carter.
“There was a missed call, but I didn’t check it,” Laura said, and in a gentle but frantic tone, “Phoe, what’s going on?”
“I couldn’t stay there.” Phoenix’s words were spoken roughly, his voice thick with emotion.
“What? Why? Is it Courtney?”
“No, it’s not Courtney,” Phoenix scoffed.
“Well, what is it?” Laura sounded baffled. “Is it your father? What’s he done?”
There was a pause, a delay, and I realized I was holding my breath, eavesdropping on a private conversation.
“Is he right? Is Dad right?” There was an urgency, a desperation to the question. “Is tennis over for me?”
“What are you talking about?” Laura asked.
“My tennis future,” Phoenix said bluntly.
“What did he say? What did your father say?” Vibes of anger screeched from her mouth, a stark contrast from the woman who I portrayed as soft and gentle.
I heard a sniffle, a series of sniffles and my own chin trembled on hearing the crack in Phoenix’s voice. “He thinks tennis is over for me.”
There was an audible sigh, followed by an exasperated, “What does your father know? He doesn’t see you day in and day out. He hasn’t seen your progress.I have.Phoenix, I know what you’re capable of. And I know you can do this.I know you’ll play tennis again.” There was an intensity, a fire in Laura’s words, and though I had no idea of Phoenix’s situation, of why he couldn’t walk unaided, I had this crazy urge to agree with Laura, to tell him that everything would be all right. I pictured Phoenix on the other side of the wall, burdened by his crutches, my eyes welling up athisheartbreak,hisfrustration, my troubles suddenly small and insignificant. Yes, I was alone, my parents out of the country, but in all fairness it was a temporary thing. I wasn’t battling an illness or injury, or in limbo over future plans. The tennis court made sense now.
Tennis was Phoenix’s dream. No wonder he hung out with Taylor so much.
Acting on instinct, I leapt down off the stool. I don’t really know what I was thinking, only that I should be supportive in some way. And though I was expecting to see Phoenix, I hadn’t considered his reaction to my presence. Because there was no denying the look of utter devastation on his face as he came to a grinding halt upon seeing me.
