Farrin jerked, freeing her hand from Drew’s, and looked down into Dara’s big, questioning eyes. Speech eluded her.
“We haven’t talked about it, but anything’s possible,” Drew finally said, reclaiming her hand.
Farrin looked up at him and saw the tenderness again, dared not give it another name. They’d had nothing but wonderful times together, but marriage? She’d not even thought about that type of commitment. She couldn’t even think about it until she settled the question of whether she could somehow live part of her life here in Oak Valley. If she wanted to.
“I think you should,” Dara continued. “You could wear one of your new dresses and get married in the garden, and I could be the flower girl and wear my new dress.”
“Dara Renee, you are too young to be playing matchmaker,” Janie said as she steered her enthusiastic daughter toward a freshly cut slice of chocolate birthday cake.
Considering she was having a hard time looking Drew in the eye after the marriage comment and Jewel kept giving her looks sharp enough to flay her flesh, Farrin had a great time at the party. For someone who’d always proclaimed she wasn’t good with children, she was beginning to love Dara and Jason as much as a person could love children who weren’t her own. And amazingly, they seemed to return the affection. She reveled in their admiration, more so than that of the fans of her fashion.
Gradually, the party guests departed. While Janie tucked the twins into bed despite Jason’s assertion that he was now too old for his mom to be tucking him in, Drew placed a kiss on Farrin’s forehead. “Sorry I’ve got to leave, but I have a ton to do. Busy court docket tomorrow.”
After Drew left, Farrin stuffed paper plates and cups in the trash, then ran a sink of warm, soapy water to wash the punch bowl.
“Be back in a minute,” Janie said from behind her.
Farrin turned to see Janie taking the large bag of trash toward the door. “I can take that on the way down.”
“It’s okay.”
Maybe Janie just needed a moment of quiet after the raucous evening. She couldn’t blame her. The out-of-tune strands of “Happy Birthday” still rang in her ears as well.
But when more than five minutes passed and Janie hadn’t returned, Farrin grew worried and headed outside. But Janie wasn’t by the Dumpster.
“Janie?”
“I’m here,” came the response from the side of the apartment building. Janie sat at a picnic table in the half-light cast by the security lamps.
“What are you doing out here?” Farrin moved toward her. “It’s freezing out . . . ” When she was within a few steps, she noticed the evidence of tear tracks down Janie’s cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
Janie opened her mouth but instead of words, a wretched sob rent the air. Farrin sank down beside her and pulled her into her arms.
“What is it? What happened?” She had the dark, churning feeling that she didn’t want to know.
Janie gulped air, sniffed. “I’m not going to be able to see my babies grow up. I’ll never get to plan another birthday party for them.”
Farrin rubbed her hand up and down Janie’s back. It felt so bony and fragile. “Stop talking that way. You’re just tired and emotional.”
Janie pulled away and looked into Farrin’s eyes with abject misery. “No, it’s the truth. The cancer, it’s growing. The chemo isn’t working anymore. My doctor told me Friday that I’ve got . . . a month or two if I’m lucky.”
Farrin stood and paced. “I will not accept that. You’ll get a second opinion.”
“He’s a respected doctor.”
“I don’t care. He’s not the only doctor, and doctors make mistakes.” Her mind raced, searching for a solution, something to push away the horror and unfairness.
“I saw it myself.”
“They do amazing things in medicine now. We’ll find a way.”
“Stop it! Just stop it!” Tears coursed down Janie’s cheeks. “This is hard enough for me. I’ve tried to be strong, but I’m so tired. I need someone to be strong for me now. I’m sorry to ask it, but I’ve got no one else.”
Farrin stopped her pacing and resumed her spot next to Janie. As soon as she did, the other woman leaned on her and cried like the world was ending. For her, it was.
When the cold soaked into them so much that they began to shiver uncontrollably, Farrin led Janie back up the stairs to her apartment. Janie retreated to the bathroom to wash her face and change into her pajamas. While she was alone, Farrin sat on the couch and stared at the dark television screen, wishing she could turn it on without moving and let whatever program was on push reality away.
She cursed fate, that cruel, cold bitch that seemed to delight in ripping lives to shreds, sucking the happiness out of the world.
It took Janie a long time to emerge from the bathroom, but Farrin let her take however long she needed. When she finally did return to the living room and sink into a chair, Farrin was ready with another plan of action.
“I’m going to take you and the kids to New York. The city is beautiful this time of year. The kids can skate at Rockefeller Center, we can go see a show, and I’m going to get you an appointment with a doctor I know at Sloan-Kettering’s Cancer Center. The husband of one of my employees had cancer, and Dr. Canton was beyond compare. Don is doing wonderfully now, back to playing racquetball and spoiling his daughters rotten.”
“Farrin—”
“I will not let you talk me out of this. You’re going if I have to hog-tie you and roll you through LaGuardia on a luggage cart. Why are you smiling?”
“I’m just wondering how many top designers ever use the word ‘hog-tie’.”
“It’s a perfectly good word, and I can’t think of one more appropriate at the moment.”
“Fine, we’ll go. The kids’ Christmas break is only a couple of days away.”
“That’s more like it.”
At Janie’s request, Farrin stayed at the apartment until Janie fell asleep. Tonight, Janie hadn’t wanted to feel so alone as she faced the night.
When she closed Janie’s bedroom door, she crossed the living area and looked in the kids’ room. Tonight, they slept the sleep of the unconcerned, unaware of their mother’s devastating news. Farrin bit her lip against tears. These beautiful children had never had a father. It was beyond cruel that their mother might be ripped from them as well.
So not to wake them, she closed their door as well and took her own heavy heart into the cold night.
But once she sat in her car with the motor running and heater running full blast, she realized she didn’t want to go back to Faye’s. She couldn’t walk into that happy, comforting place with such dark news weighing her down. She put the car in gear and drove, not knowing where she was going, cruising aimlessly up and down the streets of the small town. Eventually, she left the city’s lights behind and drove into the deep, thick darkness of the country. By the time she parked in front of Drew’s house, she felt as if her heart had shriveled to the size of a raisin.
She’d told Janie they would get a second opinion — a better one — in New York. But the thought that it might come back identical made her want to wail. It was then that she realized that Janie, the kids, Tammie, Faye, all of them had become family to her. Losing one of them seemed too much to bear after losing every single member of her biological family.
The light on Drew’s front porch came on, and he stepped outside. She got out of the car but didn’t walk forward, wondering why she’d driven out here, why he was the person she’d turned to when she needed a shoulder to cry on.
“Farrin? What’s wrong?” Drew descended the front steps and hurried toward her.
She cracked, and the tears started to roll.
When Drew reached her, he pulled her into his arms. “What is it?” he asked against her hair.
“Janie’s dying.”
When the clock on Drew’s mantle chimed midnight, he knew the whole story and she lay snuggled in his arms in front of the fire. T
hey’d been quiet for several minutes, watching the flames lick at the logs in the fireplace.
“I’ll never understand,” she said, her words low and tired.
“I know. There’s a lot of unfairness in life and death.”
“When I was younger, I used to feel as though I was the kiss of death.”
“This isn’t your fault. Cancer is an equal opportunity disease.”
“I know, but it’s always seemed that . . . ”
“You’re thinking about your mother?”
“Yeah, and . . . and the rest of my family.” There it was, the first crack she’d ever allowed in the chest of family secrets.
“Grandparents?”
“They died when I was young.” Silence hung between them for several seconds before she continued. “Do you remember when I moved here?”
“It was the second or third grade, right? For some reason, I remember you in a brownie uniform with two braids.” She remembered the uniform and how a local church had paid for it when her mother couldn’t afford it.
“Tammie is the only person I ever told why we moved. We used to live between Knoxville and Chattanooga on a farm. I had an older sister, Jessie. I barely remember her, but there were always lots of pictures of her around the house. My parents used to fight about that. My dad wanted my mom to put them away, but she refused. She said she might have buried her daughter, but she still wanted to see her smiling face every day.”
Farrin took a deep, shaky breath. It had been probably twenty years since she’d uttered Jessie’s name, since she’d told Tammie the story of the sister she could barely remember and her parents couldn’t forget.
“Jessie was four years older than me, had just finished first grade when she went out to play one day and didn’t come back. They found her the next day in the pond. My mother never forgave my father. She blamed him for not watching Jessie, that she’d had her hands full taking care of me since I was toddling around getting into things. And my father would always yell back and ask how he was supposed to get any work done if he was having to watch a little girl all the time.”
Farrin paused and swallowed hard against those memories of constant yelling and how she’d hidden in her room with the pillow over her head in a vain attempt to keep the sounds of anger at bay.
“To make things worse, the farm wasn’t doing well. My dad took a job working on an Alaskan fishing boat. He said it was to make some good money quickly, but I think he just wanted to walk away from his life because we never heard from him again. I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead. And honestly, I don’t care. Whether he was at fault or not in Jessie’s death, I can’t respect a man who abandons his family without a word.
“We lost the farm, and we moved here because this was where my grandparents had lived, where my mother lived when she was a girl.” She paused, fighting the lump in her throat. “Mom tried, but she had a lot of unresolved resentment. Making it was hard.”
Drew pulled her closer against him and planted a soft kiss against her temple. “I’m so sorry.”
She turned to face him, and his lips captured hers. In the midst of all the heartache and sadness, this felt good and uplifting and . . . right. It frightened her. Hadn’t she just proven that the people close to her always left?
Drew lifted his mouth from hers, but only moved back far enough that she could see into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
****
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Farrin returned to Faye’s house the next morning cloaked in a confusing mixture of sadness and hope. She’d lain in Drew’s arms all night, feeling a safeness she had until then not known existed. He’d been a barrier between her and the shock of Janie’s news and all the losses she’d experienced throughout her life. Instead of pulling away as she revealed the final truths of her childhood, he’d gathered her closer and filled all those empty places.
As she’d watched the first morning light creep into the room and listened to Drew’s even breathing, she realized she loved him. She had no idea if it would lead to happiness or heartbreak, but for now just the knowing was enough.
“Well, well, look who came home . . . ” Tammie’s words trailed off when she saw the look on Farrin’s face. “What’s wrong?”
Farrin sat in the first empty kitchen chair she came to, and Faye, knowing instinctively what she needed, rose to get her a cup of coffee. After the first fortifying drink, she told them Janie’s news — not because she wanted to spread the diagnosis far and wide but because she needed their help.
“I’m taking her and the twins to New York. We’ll enjoy the holiday and get a second opinion for Janie.” She looked at Tammie. “I need you to go with me. Bring the kids, and they can enjoy the city too.” She turned her gaze toward Faye. “Can you and Opal and the other ladies keep the inn running while we’re gone?”
“Don’t worry about a thing. You do what you need to, and we’ll be fine.”
Three mornings later, the seven of them made their way through the airport in Knoxville and found their assigned seats on the plane. Already, Janie’s and Tammie’s kids were the best of pals, chattering and taking turns looking out the window at the airport workers storing luggage underneath the plane.
Farrin looked over and noticed the tight, pale look on Janie’s face. “Are you ill?” she asked low, where the kids couldn’t hear from across the aisle.
“Ironic that I’ve got terminal cancer and I’m more afraid of dying in a plane crash.”
Farrin took Janie’s left hand. And when Tammie reached over from her facing seat and took Janie’s right hand, Farrin sent her friend a grateful look. Tammie smiled in return. With the three of them holding hands, the plane taxied to the runway, picked up speed, then lifted off into the bright blue winter sky.
From the time they left LaGuardia, the kids plastered their faces to the windows of the car, their mouths agape at all the sights. They “whoaed” at the skyscrapers, yelped at the speed and closeness of the taxis careening by, nearly poked each other’s eyes out in a fit of excited pointing when they spotted the Statue of Liberty. Farrin had the driver take a longer route so she could show them many of the city’s famous sites. The bull on Wall Street, the Empire State Building, the Flatiron Building, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Central Park and finally Rockefeller Center.
“Look, they’re skating!” Dara’s face lit up like a star.
“We’re going to go there later, so you all can skate,” Farrin said.
“Really?” She said it as if it would be the absolute highlight of her life.
“Yes, really.”
Farrin glanced at Janie, who was staring at her daughter as if burning the look of her young, happy face into her mind, as if she was already missing it.
Dr. Canton had to have a better outlook for Janie.
When they finally arrived at Farrin’s place, she led the way inside but turned when she ceased to hear footsteps behind her. Tammie, Janie and all four of the kids stared around them in awe. What in the world? This wasn’t Buckingham Palace.
“It’s beautiful,” Tammie said.
Something about the whole reaction to her home unsettled Farrin, a combination of pride and embarrassment. For an odd moment, she felt like an imposter living in someone else’s house.
After a late lunch, Tammie took the kids to do a bit of Christmas shopping. Janie said she was too tired and retreated for a nap. Farrin tried to work, but the effort proved useless. She wished she could take Janie in to see Dr. Canton today, but the next day was the absolute earliest he could squeeze her into his tight schedule.
Farrin roamed through the house, unable to focus or sit still. She paused at the window and stared down on Park Avenue. Once upon a time, this address had been so important. As had her appearance, the high-level clients she invited through the private entrance to her studio, the accolades she garnered from her Fashion Week shows.
Now it all seemed so trivial. It didn’t matter how far you pulled yourself up from
poverty or how far you fell toward it, death came for everyone.
Footsteps on the stairs made her turn. “Did I wake you?”
“No, I wasn’t able to sleep much. Too anxious, I guess.” Janie came to stand by her at the window. She looked down on the myriad of people and cars. “Do you like it here?”
Farrin thought for a moment. Before the reunion and everything that had happened since, she would have given an instant “yes”. But things . . . she had changed so much since then. During her days of creative block on Cara Hutton’s dress, she might have sworn she never wanted to set foot in New York again if the damned block would just go away. Now, she stood somewhere in the middle.
“Yes, the city has a lot to offer. Most of the time, I like the pace, the excitement.”
“Most of the time?”
“It’s nice to have a place to get away from it every so often, where the pace is on the opposite end of the spectrum.”
“Like Oak Valley?”
“Yeah.”
Janie turned slightly and looked at her. “So, you’re going to keep the inn.”
Farrin noticed it wasn’t a question, and she wondered what she’d done or said that made Janie so sure. When had she made the decision herself? It was almost like her subconscious had made it and not bothered to tell her.
“For now. There’s so much going on that I don’t need to worry about listing it and the possibility of changing ownership. Plus, once the restaurant and bakery are up and running, it makes it even more attractive.”
Janie offered a weak smile. “It’s hard for you to admit you’ve grown to love the place and don’t want to let it go.”
Farrin looked at her friend and thought that statement could apply to some of the people in her life now, too. Janie, the twins, Drew.
Janie turned her gaze back out the window. “You don’t realize what you’ve done, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“It might not have been your intention, but you brought hope back to Oak Valley. The artists who have wares in the gift shop, the seamstresses, Tammie and Faye, everyone who has touched that place seems to have a new light in their eyes, a new hope that if that overgrown building can have a new life, so can they.”
Dress Me in Wildflowers Page 20
