'I know,' he said. 'Look, I hate goodbyes, too. But sometimes, we need them just to survive.'
He meant that, and it left her wordless and stunned, and all she could think to do was kiss him one more time, gently. It was a promise, and she meant it with everything in her heart and soul.
And then she walked over to where her suitcases lay, and helped her dad load them into the back of the minivan. Shane moved to help but she discouraged that with a shake of her head; she needed to do this herself. She was afraid she'd break down and run back home to Morganville, to the house they all shared, if she didn't go now, on her own.
It didn't take long to change her life. Ten minutes, maybe. With the morning sun washing golden over the billboard, over Shane standing with his arm around Eve next to the hearse, with Michael safely behind tinting in the back, she tossed her backpack in, closed the door, and waved. They waved back.
And then somehow she was in the passenger seat, buckled in, though she didn't remember doing it, and the minivan was accelerating north, away from Morganville.
Away from everything she'd left behind.
She twisted in the seat to watch Shane and Eve disappear into the distance. Once she couldn't even see the billboard any more, she turned face front and took in a deep, trembling breath. I will not cry, she told herself. I will not.
It finally occurred to her to ask the obvious question of her father. 'Where's Mom?'
'She said she'll meet us at the airport. You okay, kiddo?' her dad asked. He kept his eyes on the road, and his voice was neutral, but he held out his right hand, and she took it. 'That's my girl. You're okay. I remember driving you here, you know, to school. You seemed so much smaller then, honey, and so much more vulnerable. Look at you now - you're a lovely, confident young woman. I'm very proud of you. And I know that was hard for you.'
She didn't feel lovely, or confident, or a woman. The only thing she felt was young, and right now, very raw with loss. But she smiled anyway, and gulped back the tears, and when her voice was steady she asked him how his job was going, and what the doctor was saying about his heart condition, and a thousand little things that made up love.
They talked all the way to Midland.
It wasn't just Mom waiting at the airport, to Claire's astonishment. It was a party. When she came inside with Dad, wheeling her two suitcases, she immediately saw a giant bright pink banner that said CONGRATULATIONS!, with giant clusters of balloons lifting either end. And a crowd. A cheering crowd.
She didn't know what she was seeing, honestly ... and then faces started to come into focus. Her teachers from high school - Mrs Street, Mrs East, Mr Popp, Mr Shelton ... her favourites. And then classmates, at least ten of them. Some had been friends, but casual friends; most of them would have just graduated from high school, she guessed, since they were all about her age. She'd been two or three years ahead of them, thanks to testing out of most core subjects.
She hadn't missed them, but it was nice to see them, anyway - and strange, too, like having a dream where everything from the past was suddenly in the present, throwing everything out of whack. It was weird and funny and wonderful, and as she got hugs and backslaps, passed in a dizzying dance from person to person, she felt as if everybody in the airport was staring at her and wondering what the hell was going on.
When she caught her breath, she felt a sudden, acute sense of those who were missing: Shane. Eve. Michael. Myrnin. Maybe even Amelie and Oliver and a half-dozen others she knew - however unexpectedly - she would regret not being here to see this. Myrnin would have been delighted. He'd have been grabbing a pile of cupcakes from the tray, and punch from the cooler, and remarking on how the red colour of the sugary liquid looked remarkably like diluted blood ... and Shane would have wearily threatened to stake him. Eve would have voted in favour. Michael would have laughed.
It suddenly all seemed both too much, and too little.
The Midland airport was not exactly used to celebrations, but it seemed to put smiles on the faces of the security people, and even the jaded, weary business travellers with their battered, sturdy suitcases. Claire's were new, and polka-dotted, lime green and purple. She wasn't sure if they were too weird or not, but at least she wouldn't lose them.
The party was short - fifteen minutes, and then Claire's dad began to cheerfully remind people that she had a plane to catch. Her mom hugged her tight as the first of the visitors began to leave, and said, 'It's so good to see you, sweetie. Even just for this.' She pushed Claire back to arm's length and gave her the mom inspection, up and down. 'You look a little thin, sweetie. Are you eating?'
'Yes, Mom, I'm eating. Don't worry. Once I get to Boston, it's all the snacks and cafeteria food and pizza, so I'll probably gain ten pounds the first week.'
'Well, you could do with another ten pounds, anyway.' She nervously brushed at Claire's hair, rearranging it around her face. 'Oh, dear, you could use a haircut too. Well. Promise me - do you think you've got everything you'll need? Do you need sheets, or towels, or-'
'I'll be okay, Mom,' Claire said, and caught her mother's hands in her own. 'I'll be fine.'
Mom took a deep, convulsive breath and let it out before she nodded. 'I know,' she said. 'You probably need clothes, though. You always do.'
It was an old refrain. Mom had her hair fixed nicely, and she had make-up on, and the sweater and pants she was wearing fit her well. Her mother had always had much more fashion sense than Claire possessed, and it had always been something Mom had seen as a social shortcoming. Claire didn't. She figured when she was ready to care about those things, she would. But right now, the comfortable geek-girl tee, loose jacket and jeans were all she really needed.
'I've got enough clothes,' Claire said. Half of them had been given to her by Eve, who'd rolled her eyes at the destitute nature of Claire's closet and donated things that were - by Eve's standards, anyway - conservative enough.
'And money? You've got enough money?'
'Yes.' She did. She'd gotten a salary from Morganville as Myrnin's assistant, and she even had a credit card, one that Amelie had assured her would be accepted anywhere in the world. It was very shiny. 'Honest, Mom, I'm fine.'
'I know you are, you always are.' Her mother sighed, and folded her in a suddenly fierce embrace that smelt of powder and perfume. 'Are you looking forward to seeing Elizabeth again?'
Claire's friend Elizabeth from high school had moved to Cambridge as well, though she was attending a different school from MIT. But honestly, beyond exchanging e-mails and phone calls, and the flurry of sudden plans in the past few days, she didn't really know Elizabeth any more. Two years apart was a lifetime these days.
She still remembered the rush of excitement and consternation she'd felt opening the first e-mail. Your parents told me you were moving to town, Elizabeth had written. You CANNOT live in a dorm!!!! I'm renting a place. Share? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE? That was Elizabeth, all right; she probably had been bouncing up and down, unable to stand still while she wrote the pleases. And there was no reason not to accept.
Except now, Claire felt a little sick to her stomach. Maybe I should have just stayed in the dorm. But she hadn't had such good luck with that before at Texas Prairie University.