Handle With Clare

Chapter 2: Even running is a reminder

After a minute, I felt a slight improvement and I was able to lift my head and look where I was at. The house behind me had a for sale sign on the front lawn and no one was out walking on the street because of the hour. Realizing that I was the only one out here, I shouted out of frustration.

I picked up a small rock to the side of me and threw it across the road as hard as I could, hitting a mailbox on the other side of the road with a soft clink. Tears threatened to run down my face as anger, sadness, frustration hit me like I just hit the mailbox. This was not fair. I remember when I used to go out for a run for an hour, with no problems. It was easy then. Why couldn't I do the things that I used to do? It was only two years ago. I should be able to still do the same things. I wanted to.

"Um, are you ok?" a boy asked from behind me.

My blood ran cold as I realized I wasn't the only one on this street. I turned my head to face him so fast I am sure I gave myself whiplash. This young man with black hair standing tall behind me had a frown on his face, as if concerned and extremely confused all at once.

I thought this house was still for sale. "Yeah. Just fine," I said with harshness in my voice, not caring about being polite. He crashed my moment, my privet moment that no one ever got to see. He didn't deserve the polite verson of me. With some struggle, I got up from the grass and brushed myself off. Saying nothing more, I ran off again to get myself home.

A small chuckle escaped my lips, thinking about what just happened. That was embarrassing and if I was lucky, I won't see him again. If I was lucky, he was just visiting, and he didn't even live here.

My feet skidded to a stop at the foot of our driveway. I passed back and forth at the foot of the drive until I was positive my breathing was normal, and no one would notice that I went running. With slow, careful steps, I walked up the drive and I opened the door to the house. A quiet prayer echoed my mind, hoping I wouldn't draw attention to myself.

"Clare. Where were you?" mom's voice rang out as she came from the living room with her PJ's still on. She looked at me through her reading glasses that slid halfway down her narrow nose.

"I just went out for a small walk," I lied. If she knew what I had just done, she would freak out and so she would never know.

"Alone?" she questioned as she pushed up her glasses up her nose.

I shrugged, being as calm as I could so she couldn't see through my lie. "Well, no one was up, and I didn't want to wait. I heard that today was going to be hot, and I wanted to go before that point." She eyed me disbelievingly in silence. Before I ran this lie deeper into the ground, I tucked my short blonde hair behind my ear and said, "I need to take a shower."

She sighed after a moment. "Well, I've just found out that we have some new people living in the neighborhood. Do you want to help me make and deliver some cookies for them?"

Not thinking much about it I replied, "sure. I'll help you with that." With that, I walked up the stairs to shower.

The warm water felt like a well needed hug and I probably stayed more time under the water then I should have. After I got out of the shower, I put a headband in my hair to keep it out of my face. I changed into some T-shirt that was too big on me and shorts, then went back downstairs into the kitchen. There, waiting for me, was mom playing on her tablet with a concentrated look on her face, the same look that Farrah had. They were the same person; I swear. Me, on the other hand, I thought I was more like my father. "Ok, ready?"

She looked up at me and turned off her tablet. "Yeah. Let's get them started." She stood up from her chair and watched as she got her cookbook out then flipped through the stained pages as she tried to find a good recipe. "Have any ideas on what to make?"

I sat down in the same chair she was in. "Mmm.. that's a good question. How many people are in the family?"

"I heard just three in the family. That's all I know," she said and sat back down next to me at the kitchen table.

"Cupcakes are always nice," I suggested to her as I pointed to a picture of a cupcake in her cookbook.

She nodded and handed me the book. "Ok let's do that."

"Ok, so you will need two eggs, a stick of butter, flour, coco..." I continued to name off all the ingredients that she needed and I watched her walk around the kitchen, getting the needed things.

As I told her the instructions, regret bubbled within me over missed time. It made me realize we hadn't had a simple conversation in far too long. Without the stress of hospitals or waiting rooms, we could bond for a moment like a normal mother and daughter should. Overcome with emotion, I realized that once again cancer robbed me of something else.