Desire: Love and Passion - By Lesia Reid Page 0,39

stuff anyway, so I might as well.”

The Harper family house stood majestic among trees in the elite suburb of Oxshott in Surrey. The rolling expanse of lush green lawn was only interrupted by a winding cobblestone driveway. Willow drove the Jaguar slowly up the driveway. She remembered the place. When she gave her name, Willow Barnes through the intercom, it had sounded wrong. She quickly added the matter concerned Claudia Harper.

She parked the old car in front of a garage door and walked to the front door. She climbed short stairs to the portico. The massive white columns were every bit as she remembered them. She smiled remembering chasing her cousin Ambrose around those very columns. There was a doorbell. When she was younger there was no doorbell, only the big brass knocker that still hung on the door.

She could hear the heavy sound of the knocker as it echoed through the house. She only had to wait a few seconds before the door opened.

“Claudia?”

The face was exactly as she remembered it, not a day older, not a new wrinkle in place. The only thing that was different was the hair. The blonde had given way to a bluish white color that hugged the face.

“Nana,” her voice caught in her throat as strong old arms pulled her into a big hug.

Willow clung to the older woman, tears running down her face. There was some noise in background, but Willow did not see anyone. Her eyes were closed as she hugged her grandmother.

Another pair of arms came around her. There was a strong masculine scent, a soft kiss on her forehead and she looked up into kind blue eyes.

“Uncle Ken,” she said.

“Claudia.”

Hugs and tears. Willow did not remember much but that.

“Where did she go?” James asked as Simon reported she’d left the property.

“I followed her to a house in Oxshott.”

“Whose house is it?”

“It belongs to Edna Harper,” Simon said.

She had truly gone home James realized. His pushing her away had pushed her into the arms of her family. Her move told him she was no longer angry, despite the fact that she still did not answer his calls.

For Willow the rage was indeed gone. For the first time in years she was somewhere where she truly belonged and the world seemed right again. No one pressed her about where she had been. No one asked when she told them her name had changed. All of that seemed irrelevant. Her grandmother insisted she stay and she was happy to oblige. Late in the night when everyone was tucked into bed, she pulled out her mobile phone and listened to his messages.

I love you. Please call me, the last message said.

Her anger had burned away when the towing company showed up for the car. Later as she showered again, she found herself laughing at the hilarity of the event. She could see herself banging away at the vehicle. Then she was disappointed at the waste. She could have donated it to charity. Such clarities only came when anger was truly gone.

It was close to midnight. She hit the call back button on her mobile phone. He picked up after the first ring.

“I was hoping you would call,” he said.

“I wanted to wish you a safe trip.”

“I didn’t mean the things I said.”

“I know.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“No.”

“I suppose I earned that. Is there going to be a point when you forgive me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess that’s something to look forward to.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” she said. “There are some parts that will never be mended.”

“Do you still love me?” he asked.

She paused. She didn’t have to think about. Of course she still loved him. As cruel as he had been that didn’t wipe away how she felt and probably how she would feel about him in the future.

“You can tell Larry the property is for sale, whatever he assumes fair market value is,” she hung up.

Willow did not tell them the story of her parents’ deaths on the first day. There would be time to talk about it later. They did not seem quite anxious to talk about it either. Instead, they wanted to get to know her.

She spent most of the next few days meeting the family and getting to know them again. She did not call James again, though she watched his speech to the United Nations on television.

“He’s handsome,” her grandmother said. They were sitting in the media room watching the evening news.

“Yes, he is.”

“I thought it was a hoax when the