Seventeen-year old Sara Stark hung upside down from the top banister, the foyer far below the blonde tendrils of her dangling ponytail. Normally, she would practice outside, but the constant rain, thanks to Tropical Storm Allison, had forced her indoors.
She prepared to flip down, but stopped as Drake and his current girlfriend entered. Deep in conversation, they didn't notice her as they shrugged out of their rain gear. Sara opened her mouth, prepared to call a greeting, when Drake said her name.
"Stark's graduated," he said. "Things should calm down."
"If one of my sisters acted that way," Bitsy said, patting her platinum dye job in place, "my mother would send her off to finishing school in Croatia. You shouldn't let her embarrass you, or your family. She's not even blood."
Drake stopped shaking his coat and looked at Bitsy.
Who the heck called their kid Bitsy? It was a name that begged for teasing.
"You don't understand," he said. "Stark ... was pretty messed up when she got here. Hell, we all were."
Sara scowled. He had no business telling that woman anything about her.
Bitsy shrugged. "A person's past is no excuse for bad behavior. You should know that."
Who was she? The manners police? Ditzy Bitsy was more like it.
Drake grinned. "You're not still mad about that snake, are you? We don't even know if she was responsible."
Bitsy gave him her coat. "Don't try to tell me a snake unzipped my purse, slithered inside, then zipped it up again and waited to jump out at me."
"It didn't jump out at you." He chuckled and Sara smiled. At least he could take a joke. "It was just a grass snake."
"It was repulsive. That girl is a menace. Why do we always end up talking about her anyway?" Bitsy pouted.
Drake tossed both their coats on a low bench and pulled her close. "Because you always bring her up."
"No," she said, leaning into him. "Because you're always worried about her. Why not pay some attention to me?"
Sara looked away as Bitsy stood on her toes to plant a disgusting kiss on Drake's mouth.
"There. That's better," Bitsy said, fingers curled in the back of his dark, wet hair. "You're leaving tomorrow and I want you all to myself."
Leaving? Tomorrow? She flipped off the banister and landed in front of them. Bitsy squeaked and Sara leveled a glare on Drake. "Leaving?"
He grimaced. "How long were you up there?"
"You scared the wits out of me!" The drama queen grasped her chest as if about to have an attack...
Of the vapors, Sara thought and ignored her. "Don't change the subject, Drake. When were you gonna to tell me you were leaving?"
"Tonight, at dinner. Now answer my question."
"No." Sara put her hands on her hips. "The last time you left it was supposed to be for two weeks and you didn't come back until Christmas."
"Stark, we've been through this before," Drake growled in exasperation.
"And you could at least apologize for scaring me," Bitsy said.
"Sorry." Sara slung the word at her with all the sincerity of a serial killer and turned back to Drake. "I don't care about this new thing you're doing. Family's important too. You shouldn't be gone all the time."
"That new thing, as you call it, is our family business. And you could help out more."
"You're right. We have been through this before." Sara didn't want him to launch into the litany of expectations she had failed to meet, especially in front of Ditzy Bitsy. "You can go and never come back for all I care."
She dashed up the stairs. Tears burned, but didn't dare fall. Years ago, when she was a ward of the state of Texas, she discovered tears were like blood scent to predators and learned to control them. Her bedroom door hit the wall and bounced back, closing itself as she flung herself across the bed. Funny, but back then, she had thought the perfect family and home would make her so happy. Now, look at her, wanting to cry because all her dreams had come true.
Even when Drake was home, he wasn't home. He was off gallivanting with the daughters of Colonel Bruce Knight's most respected friends. Flopping onto her back, she stared at the ceiling. With Bruce off in D.C., their dining table would once again seat only her. Drake was leaving.
Leaving her alone.
Again.
)
