Claire cleared her throat.
Dad, she said. She felt color blazing in her cheeks, and her voice was barely steady. If youre asking if Im still a virgin, I am.
Claire! Her moms voice cracked sharply across the last of her sentence. Thats enough.
Total silence at the table. Not even Michael seemed to know where to take the conversation from there. Eve looked like she was having a hard time deciding whether to laugh or wince, and finally dug into her chocolate sundae as the best possible response.
Michaels cell phone rang. He opened it, spoke softly, listened, and closed it without replying. He signaled the waitress. We have to go, he said.
Where?
Back to the house. Amelie wants to see us.
Youre coming home with us, Dad said to Claire, who shook her head. Dont argue with me
Im sorry, sir, but she has to come with us right now, Michael said. If Amelie says its the right thing to do, Ill bring her to your house myself. But well drop you off on the way, and Ill let you know as soon as possible. It was said respectfully, but without any room for argument, and there was something about Michael in that moment that just couldnt be pushed.
Dads face set, still red, and very hard. This isnt over, Michael.
Yes sir, he said. That much I know. We havent even started yet.
The drive back was even more uncomfortable, and not just physically; Claires father was livid, her mother embarrassed, and Claire herself was so mad she could barely stand to look at either of them. How could they? Even if Mr. Bishop had done something to them, screwed with their heads, theyd bought into it completely. Theyd always said they trusted her, always said that they wanted her to make her own decisions, but when it came right down to it, they wanted her to be their helpless little girl, after all.
Well, it wasnt going to happen. Shed come too far for that.
Michael pulled to a stop in front of her parents new houseanother big Gothic-style house, looking almost exactly like their own except for the landscaping out front. Her parents Founder House had a spreading live oak tree towering over the property that rustled like dry paper in the evening breeze, and the trim was painted what looked like, in the dark, a dull black.
Claires dad leaned in to give her one last look. I expect to hear from you tonight, he said. I expect you to tell me when youre coming home. And by home, I mean here, with us.
She didnt answer. After extending the look for way too long, her dad shut the car door, and Michael accelerated smoothly awaynot too quickly, but not slowly, either.