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Sage pulled herself out of the oversized Jacuzzi tub for the third and last time. She spent the past few hours washing and soaking in the penthouse's master bathroom. The dirt and filth which was caked onto her skin took several rounds of scrubbing, rinsing, more scrubbing, and more rinsing before it was reduced to nothing but a fading ring around the drain.
Standing with steam wafting from her superheated body, Sage stared closely at her battered, pruned skinned reflection. She grimly assessed her physical state in the floor length mirror covering one wall. Her body told the tail of her days on the run. The skin was littered with bruises and cuts and blisters and, somehow, seemed withered and grayed. Seeing herself for the first time in a long time, Sage understood her doctor's reticent manner during the physical evaluation earlier in the evening. She suddenly realized she was lucky Dr. Tsu didn't put her in the hospital.
Dr. Tsu, the family physician, was waiting in the penthouse when Sage and J. Granville arrived. Neither adult would allow Sage to bathe or eat prior to a medical exam. J. Granville was stubbornly determined to make sure Sage was healthy in spite of the teen's sullen disapproval. Sage reluctantly agreed after a bit of coaxing from the physician.
Dr. Tsu, a petite forty-ish woman, always maintained a high degree of professionalism. Tonight was no exception. She assisted Sage in removing her foul clothes and helped her trim the hopeless snarls from her stringy, matted hair without the slightest hint of repulsion. It was supremely quiet during the exam. Dr. Tsu kept her directions to one or two words. There were no prying questions or admonitions for which Sage was truly grateful.
"You seem well enough but undernourished and, perhaps, a bit dehydrated," Dr. Tsu said as she packed three vials of freshly drawn blood into an igloo ice chest. "You should wash up. Get as clean as you can. I'm going to write some prescriptions; antibiotics, antifungals, antibacterial creams. The concierge should be able to get them delivered before you're finished bathing. You'll need to come into the office, of course, for a more thorough exam. We can arrange that tomorrow." The doctor paused before leaving the master bedroom as if considering what she would say next. "Sage, if there is anything I can do to help you, anything you can't go to your parents with, then call my cell."
Sage merely nodded and never made eye contact.
Now, hours later, Sage stood cleanly naked and very cold staring at the stranger she had become to herself. Shaking off the shiver settling around her rapidly chilling body, Sage grabbed the hotel issued bathrobe. Her clothes were long gone and most likely burned by now. The soft, bulky, warm cotton robe would have to do.
Sage exited the bathroom with a puff of steam announcing her entrance into the much cooler master bedroom. The enormous yet tastefully decorated room was dimly lit. Sage looked first to the empty but turned down king-sized awaiting her arrival. Then she turned to face the woman sitting in the darker end of the room on a plush couch.
"I don't want to talk to you," Sage stated with youthful defiance.
Simone smoothed her skirt and tucked her legs under her; settling into the sofa. She didn't immediately reply. Her continued silence began to unnerve Sage.
"Didn't you hear me? I said, 'I don't want to talk to you,'" Sage repeated as she took three menacing steps toward the seating area.
Simone nodded agreement without argument. She gestured to an array of covered plates and bowls on the low coffee table before her. A small army of prescription bottles stood lined along the edge of the heavy oak table. After Sage took three more steps closer to the food, Simone pulled out a paperback book from under the folds of material at her thigh. Without a word, she flipped it open and leaned further back into the comfort of the settee then began to read in the muted light.
"Why are you still sitting there?" Sage shouted.
Simone lowered the book and looked directly at Sage. Their eyes locked. Simone's eyes filled with tears but she did not cry them.
"You said, you did not want to talk to me yet you continue to ask me questions." Simone gave a small smile, "You need to make up your mind, Dear, about what you really want."
Sage was furious. She was ready to unleash her anger in a string of obscenities and accusations until her stomach growled. It was a vengeful rumble. The hunger she had suppressed for months and months would no longer be ignored with food so near.
The pain was like a physical blow to her gut. Her resolve crumbled and she staggered slightly. Her hands clutched at her empty belly.
Simone was on her feet in seconds. She wrapped her arms around Sage and guided her to the sofa. She eased both of them to the cushions without releasing her grip on Sage. The girl was too weak to fight off the help in spite of her simmering anger. Sage finally curled into the embrace and rested her head on the shoulder she had long thought of as her mother's.
"I still don't want to talk to you," Sage mumbled.
"Fine. We won't talk. But, you need to eat. Do you want me to feed you?"
Sage struggled with her emotions for a few moments but her hunger won out. She meekly nodded her head.
Simone snagged a ceramic mug from the table as she shifted both of them like they were connected at the hip. She managed to tip the plastic lid off the top with just her thumb. Sage jump slightly as the broth touched her lips.
"Hot?" Simone asked.
Sage shook her head and murmured before her next sip, "Salty."
They stayed quiet, unmoving, until the cup was emptied. Sage gave a small burp prompting Simone to rub her back in large, firm circles. A bigger burp followed.
"I'm tired," Sage's voice was thick with fatigue.
Simone nodded. "I'll help you into bed."
"No." Sage tightened her fragile hold on the woman, "Stay here. No more running tonight. Stay right here."
"My Sage," she murmured like a prayer, "my sweet child, is home. I promise I'll make everything all right again."
Simone's tears finally broke free.
Sage stood back from the half chiseled stone. Walking in a full circle around the white marble, she chewed her lip as she appraised the creature trying to pull itself free from the block. She nervously tapped the hammer against her thigh trying to decide where to chip next.
"That is one angry looking lion," Brook said as she crossed the empty space from the front door. "I buzzed from the lobby; you must've been so busy you didn't hear."
She deposited a bag of groceries on the butcher block in the center of a haphazard semi circle of appliances which served as a make shift kitchen.
"It's a gargoyle and," Sage did not turn to answer or face Brook as the woman approached her, "I did hear the buzzer. You should know by now I won't stop working just because of uninvited guests."
Brook ignored the comment. She gave a quick kiss to Sage's cheek before circling the sculpture herself. She came to a stop directly across from Sage.
"It's lovely."
"Not done," Sage was gruff in her reply.
Brook shook her head. "Doesn't matter. It's beautiful."
Sage shrugged and lifted her chisel to begin chipping again.
"Wait. Dad is on his way up here. He wants to talk to you," Brook interrupted.
Sage gave a heavy sigh. She dropped her hammer on the hardwood floor. The thud echoed in the gutted penthouse.
"What if I don't want to talk to him?"
"Then you can show some courage and tell him to his face," the old man's voice rumbled from across the room.
"You know, most people call before visiting," Sage replied as she turned her back on Brook to face J. Granville.
He grinned and grabbed her into a forceful hug. The gesture was not reciprocated. J. Granville chose to ignore the snub.
"Beautiful piece you've got there," he said when he stepped away from Sage.
"Just tell me what you want so I can get back to it," Sage demanded.
J. Granville didn't answer. He inspected the stone. Reaching out, he let his index finger detail the furrows cut into the surface. He seemed oblivious to the white dust settling on his fine black suit.
"I want you to carve the corner stones for the harbor side of the hotel," he finally stated.
Sage could not contain her surprise. "What?"
"The restoration of the dome is finished with the exception of the upper eastern, north and south corner stones. The solid blocks which were there prior cracked during the cleaning process." He smiled at Sage, "If anyone deserves to cut their vision into the future of this building, it's you."
"Sage, you love this building. It's your home. You should be the artist to mark it," Brook encouraged.
Sage sneered at the pair, "What's the catch? You know I would jump at the chance to carve the stones but both of you wouldn't come here with groceries just to 'let' me do it. What's the deal?"
"We have to do a press conference together, as a family," J. Granville explained.
"No way," Sage shook her head. "I don’t do those freak shows. And, I'm not gonna stand up there pretending we're one big happy family when we're one big fucked up family. Find somebody else."
J. Granville extended his hand toward Brook. "Let's go. I tried. Told you she wouldn't do it."
"Wait," Brook stepped between the pair. "Dad, the only artist you've considered for this project is Sage. You've been talking about it for weeks. Don't give up on her yet. And Sage, admit it, you want to do this. You're both going to have to compromise or everybody loses.'
"She can do any design she wants," J. Granville stated. "She doesn't even need to show it to me first."
Sage stood stunned at the offer.
"Sage, what will you compromise for total artistic freedom?" Brook questioned.
"What is so fucking important about a press conference?"
J. Granville cleared his throat before answering, "You're the only one of my children…"
"I am not…" Sage was ready to explode.
"For God's sake, just hear me out!" J. Granville waited a moment to make sure Sage would remain quiet. "All the others have already worked on projects with me. Cade's my VP of OP's for future development. Gareth and Child-Hassam oversaw the stadium in Chicago. Brook designed the new wing at Children's Hospital. Before he got sick, Endicott and I renovated the house on the cape together. There are questions and rumors flying around why you haven't been involved with the family business or charity events or fucking Christmas dinner!"
"Dad," Brook wanted to calm the man's rising temper.
"No, Brook, I'm going to have my say. It has been eight years of walking on egg shells. We've given her everything she asked for; turning the penthouse into cavern, tutors instead of school, unlimited expense account. Yet, she continues to keep us at arm's length while we worry one wrong word will send her running off again. It doesn't matter how much we give her or how much we apologize. None of it has helped us move beyond that one mistake made out of love for both of you!" J. Granville turned his attention on Sage, "You need to decide today! Are you so angry and hateful that you would throw away the very people who love you so much…it hurts…" his tears ended the tirade.
Sage, unsure what to do, watched as Brook went to her father's side to steady him in the wake of his fury.
"I won't ask you again. This is the last olive branch I'll offer you," J. Granville muttered.
Sage felt her cheeks flush with shame at the revelation of pain her behavior had caused the man. In truth, he was as much of a victim of circumstance as Sage was. Her anger was misdirected and it had been for years.
"I can't," Sage paused to gather her thoughts, "I can't promise I won't fuck it up." After a moment of silence, she went on to clarify, "The press conference, I mean. I've never done one or really watched one so I don't know what to do."
"Stand there, beside Dad. You don't even need to smile," Brook explained. "I'll be right next to you."
Sage shook her head slightly, "No, Simone…Mom should stand there with me otherwise there'll be more rumors to deal with."
J. Granville mopped his eyes and nose with a freshly starched handkerchief. "Good suggestion. I'll send a courier over with plans for the eastern facade and specifics about the press conference. Any questions you have about protocol or…anything, you can call me or Brook or your mother."
The trio waited in the echo of the lie for the right words to speak but none of them could think of something profound enough to lift them above it. Finally, Brook broke the stand off.
"We'll go now and let you get back to your work."
Sage simply replied, "Good."