“Just pulled in. Hon, you look exhausted.”
“I’m fine.” She stared down at the check. Who was she making it out to anyway?
“Do you even know what day it is?”
“Friday?”
“Close, but no prize. Why don’t you go get some sleep?”
“I can’t sleep. Can’t turn my brain off.”
“What are you going to do?”
Farrin sighed. “What can I do? I’m not related, so I have no say.”
“This isn’t right.”
“Sometimes life isn’t.”
The front door opened and slammed against the wall. Feet ran down the hall, and then Dara slid past Tammie and launched herself at Farrin. Her face was red and tear-streaked, causing Farrin’s heart to nearly stop.
“What’s wrong?”
At first, Dara just gasped for breath.
“Is it your mother?”
Dara shook her head.
“Dara, honey, what’s wrong?”
The girl sniffed loudly. “Grandma, she took my necklace. And Mom’s, too.”
“What necklaces?” But Farrin knew, and God help Jewel Carlisle.
“The ones you got us at Tiffanys. She said that the money they’d bring would be better used to pay bills. And that little girls shouldn’t have such expensive jewelry.”
“How did you get here?”
“I . . . ran.”
Farrin looked at the clock. It was after 4 p.m. and getting dark.
“From your apartment?”
Dara lowered her eyes as if she were afraid she was about to be punished. “Yes.”
Farrin rose, and grasped Dara’s hand. “Tammie, call and let them know Dara is fine and that I’m bringing her home.”
“Farrin.” Concern echoed in Tammie’s voice.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let that woman be the cause of me going to jail.”
Farrin gripped the wheel of the car so hard on the way back to the apartment complex, the blood stopped flowing to her fingers. Dara still sniffed beside her.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll get the necklaces back.” She reached across the car and squeezed Dara’s ice cold hand.
When Farrin pulled into the apartment complex, Jewel was waiting at the bottom of the steps, her arms crossed and her face pinched. She’d marched halfway across the parking lot by the time Farrin and Dara got out of the car.
Farrin stepped between Dara and her irate grandmother. In a low voice, she said, “You touch this child, and you will answer to me.”
“Get out of my way. This is all your fault, buying a child something made for an adult.”
“And how do you explain stealing Janie’s necklace?”
Jewel inhaled sharply. “I didn’t steal!”
“What do you call taking other people’s property with the intent of selling it?”
“I’m doing it for them, to pay bills.”
“I happen to know Janie has enough money in her account to pay her bills.”
“How would you know that?”
“Because I put it there. I think you want to rid their lives of anything that even hints of me, and perhaps you don’t want to spend any more of your own money on your grandchildren than you have to.”
“Must you say this now?” Jewel glanced at Dara peeping around Farrin’s side.
“What, all of a sudden you’re concerned what they hear and think?”
Jewel’s face reddened beneath her makeup. Even while caring for her dying daughter, the woman had taken pains to appear perfectly coifed and attired. “You seem to forget that I will be raising them and not you.”
“If you’re planning to make them feel miserable and unloved like you did Janie, I might change my mind about fighting for them.”
Farrin expected anger from Jewel, but the older woman surprised her. “Unloved?” Unless she was a fine actress, Jewel Carlisle was genuinely shocked by the accusation. “We gave Janie everything she could have ever wanted or needed.”
Jewel seemed to age before Farrin’s eyes. Could the woman truly be that blind to her daughter’s anguish? Or had Janie been as good at hiding it from her parents as she had been her classmates?
“You can’t buy a child’s love.”
For several moments, Jewel didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. And then she turned and walked away, not toward the apartment but toward the complex’s playground. Farrin took the opportunity and with Dara climbed the steps to the apartment.
They found Jason feeding a small cup of vanilla pudding to his mother. Farrin stifled a cry. Less than a week had passed since she’d last seen Janie, but those days had not been kind to her. The dark circles under her eyes had deepened, and her eyes had a faraway, glazed look about them. Farrin walked forward and took the pudding from Jason. The poor child. He shouldn’t have to see his mother waste away.
“Her favorite used to be chocolate,” he said. “But she doesn’t like the taste of it anymore.”
Farrin bent and kissed his head. “You are a very good son. Your mother loves you very much, and she always will. Remember that.”
Jason nodded and blinked back tears.
“I have a job for you. I want you to call Drew at his office. Tell him what you’d like for dinner from Thelma’s and have him pick it up. Order something for your grandmother, too. You know what she likes?”
Jason looked at a loss.
“She likes chicken and dumplings,” Dara offered, sounding a bit unsure.
“It’s a good night for those. I think I’ll have that, too.” Though she doubted she’d be able to eat a bite. But the kids needed something to do, something to make them feel useful.
Only when the kids left the room did Farrin gently close the door then sit on the side of the bed before looking at her friend. Janie turned her head and recognition registered in her pale eyes.
“I missed you,” Janie said, her voice a whisper of its former self.
“I missed you, too. I’m sorry. It has been really busy at the inn. The restaurant’s almost ready to open, and—”
“Farrin.”
“Yes?”
“I know what Mom did. I just didn’t have the strength . . . to stop her.” The words cost Janie as she labored to breathe.
“She was upset.”
“Because I told her I wanted you to raise the children.”
“They’re her flesh and blood.”
“And she’ll make them unhappy.”
Farrin thought about the haunted look in Jewel’s eyes before she’d walked away. “I don’t know.”
Tears leaked out of Janie’s eyes. “Please, please take care of my babies.”
Farrin didn’t know what would happen, but she couldn’t manage to refuse, not when Janie looked so alone and tired and desperate. “I’ll do my best to make them happy.”
“Thank you.”
Farrin pulled a tissue from the box on the nightstand and dried Janie’s tears.
It appeared to take a lot of effort, but Janie lifted her hand to her hair. “I want to . . . take a shower.”
When her time came, Farrin hoped her own death was quick. This lingering, the gradual loss of your ability to take care of yourself, the loss of dignity was awful in the extreme.
By the time they managed to get Janie showered and into a clean gown, the kids had slipped into the bedroom and changed the bed linens. Janie lifted her frail hand to caress their cheeks as Farrin helped her back into bed.
“Drew’s here,” Jason said.
“Did your grandmother come back inside?”
“No, she’s still sitting on the swings.”
Exhausted, Janie drifted off to sleep almost as soon as they tucked her in. Farrin ushered the kids into the living room so Janie could rest.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Farrin said when she reached Drew. “Can you set out the meal so they can eat?”
“Sure. But where are you going?”
“There’s a conversation I need to have.” S
he grabbed a quilt off the back of the couch and went outside.
The moon had risen and cast the night in wintry white light. She spotted Jewel sitting on one of the children’s swings, staring at the dark line of trees at the back of the property. There was something incredibly sad about the picture. And dangerous considering Jewel was in her sixties and likely chilled to the bone.
When she reached her, Farrin held out the quilt. But Jewel didn’t seem to see it. So Farrin unfolded it and wrapped it around the older woman’s shoulders. “You need to go inside before you get pneumonia. You need to stay strong and well for Janie’s sake.”
A sob escaped, one Jewel had likely been holding in since she’d walked away nearly an hour before. “I never knew she thought we didn’t love her.”
“She shouldn’t have had to say it.” Maybe Jewel was hurting, but she’d caused a good deal of pain as well.
“I wanted her to have the life I didn’t.”
“Your life always seemed fine from where I was standing.”
“Looks can be deceiving.”
In the town where everyone knew everything about everybody, was nothing as it seemed?
Jewel pulled the quilt tighter around her shoulders and continued to stare into the distance.
“Why do you hate me so much?” Farrin asked. “Was it because I grew up dirt poor and you still think of me that way? Or is it because you’re ticked off that I didn’t put my dresses in your shop window?” After several moments of no response, Farrin sighed and turned to walk away.
“You reminded me too much of myself,” Jewel said.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“When I met Fred, I couldn’t believe my luck. He was handsome, nice, and I could tell he was going to be successful. He seemed to like me. And I was terrified of having to eventually tell him about my family.”
Jewel still didn’t make eye contact. Farrin wondered if she’d be able to divulge this personal information if she did.
“When we got serious and I thought he might ask me to marry him, I knew I had to tell him and risk losing him. I’d never been so scared in my life.”
Again, Jewel paused, perhaps wondering if she should stop her confession.
“I grew up on a cotton farm near Memphis. Neither of my parents finished high school, and other than farming, my father’s favorite pastime was seeing how many times he could put my mother in the hospital. And instead of taking her children and leaving, Mom spent her time thinking up new stories about how she’d fallen down the stairs or been smacked in the mouth by a door when one of us kids ran out it.
“The day I learned I got a full scholarship to UT was the happiest of my life. As soon as I picked up my high school diploma, I packed everything I owned in my little car and drove to Knoxville without a single glance in the rearview mirror. I lived in my car for three months, eating at the homeless shelter or at the restaurant where I got a job waitressing. Every penny I made went to buying new clothes and nice things for my dorm room so no one would know how poor I’d been.”
“No one can help what family they’re born into,” Farrin said. The similarities to her own story made her uncomfortable.
“No, but they can try to be better than the hand fate dealt them. And I was doing fine until I got pregnant. Fred and I got married the day after I found out. It was a lot different then. Getting pregnant before you were married was unspeakable, and it made me feel like the white trash background I’d left behind.”
“And that’s why Janie’s pregnancy bothered you so much.”
“We’d made sure she never had the opportunity to get pregnant in high school, and we’d lectured her about the dangers before she went to college. But she ended up pregnant without a husband anyway. Worse, she doesn’t even know who the father is.”
“Maybe you tried too hard.”
Jewel sighed, slow and resigned. “Maybe.” She wiped at her eyes. “And now God is punishing me for being too hard on her by taking her away.”
“It’s not a punishment. It’s just one of those things that happens that we’ll never be able to explain.”
“I’d rather God take me.”
Suddenly, it seemed way too tiring to hold in any resentment and anger toward the older woman and Farrin let it go. “Maybe God’s giving you a second chance.”
Finally, Jewel looked up at her. “I won’t ask your forgiveness because I don’t deserve it. But I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for my daughter. She deserves someone who knows how to show her love, and I’ve failed miserably.”
Farrin looked down at Jewel and pitied her. She’d been so scared of her past that she’d run her entire life and ruined her relationship with her only child. How easily Farrin could have followed the same path.
“It’s not too late to show Janie how much you love her.”
Jewel looked back at the apartment, perhaps wondering how a few simple words now could erase a lifetime of mistakes. But to her credit she rose and turned that direction. Her shoes echoed on the pavement as she walked away, the quilt around her shoulders looking like a queen’s patchwork robe.
Farrin turned to look at the same dark line of trees Jewel had gazed at minutes before. It was her own mother’s face that she saw. She hoped Jewel and Faye could somehow heal a lifetime of hurt before it was too late.
****
CHAPTER TWENTY
Farrin looked up from her work when the Hospice nurse walked out of Janie’s room. She didn’t have to say a word for Farrin to know it wasn’t good news. But then, the best news she could hope for at this point was that the painkillers did their job. Janie had resisted them, not wanting them to cloud her mind and take her away from her children before she had to go, but early that morning the pain had become too much for her slight body to bear.
Angel, an appropriate name for a nurse, closed the bedroom door behind her. For a moment, Farrin considered leaving the room so that Angel could talk to the Carlisles alone, but she couldn’t force herself to her feet. She needed to hear the words.
“She’s resting now.”
“How long?” Mr. Carlisle asked.
“Probably within the week.”
Jewel turned into her husband’s arms and began to cry. Now that she’d made peace with her daughter, the losing of her must be even harder.
Farrin stared at the door to Janie’s room, and for some reason she remembered the night Janie had been crowned homecoming queen during their junior year. Even then, before the prom nightmare, Farrin had loathed Janie. But now she remembered the look on Janie’s face. In that one moment, she’d been truly happy. How often had that happened in her life?
A life that was down to days, no longer weeks.
After Angel’s departure, Farrin left Janie’s parents alone. She needed to take a walk in the crisp air to remind her that life still held something other than pain, suffering and eminent death. That someday this long, cold winter would disappear and spring would bring back the wildflowers Dara loved and Janie had captured in hundreds of photos.
She found Dara sitting at the picnic table at the end of the building, her cheeks streaked with tears. Farrin sat beside her and pulled the girl next to her. “Want to talk about it?”
Dara sniffed. “I failed my math test today. I’ve never failed a test. Mom would be so upset.”
“Oh honey, I think your mom would totally understand. School’s important, but sometimes other things in life are more so.”
Dara sagged against her. “Why is God taking my mom away? Why doesn’t he take a mean person instead?”
How many times had that question been asked by mankind?
“I don’t know, sweetie. Sometimes people just get sick and we don’t know why.”
For several seconds, Dara was quiet. Then a huge, wracking sob made her shudder. The child who’d been so strong for so long finally let go of all her sorrow and cried like there was no tomorrow, her little heart breaking in two.
Farrin couldn’t prev
ent her own tears, part of them shed for the enemy who’d become a dear friend, part for the grief-stricken children Janie was leaving behind.
****
Janie seemed to decline by the hour, and the apartment took on the awful pall of waiting for death. Perhaps the worst part was how the pain medication took Janie’s mind to another place before her body could follow. She’d gotten so used to Janie not responding that when she went in to feed her some ice chips one afternoon, Farrin was surprised to see recognition in Janie’s eyes.
“Hi,” Farrin said.
Janie smiled. “Thank you.” Her voice was thin and raspy from disuse.
“You’re welcome.”
“Not for ice. For . . . ” She stopped, reached for more ice chips. “For giving me back my family.”
Farrin shook her head, not understanding.
Janie gripped her hand with a surprising strength. “My mother, I’ve never been able to talk to her like that. I feel . . . like everything will be . . . okay now.” She winced with the pain the effort to speak cost her.
Farrin reached for the morphine pump and handed it to Janie.
“You.”
Understanding her friend had expended all her strength, Farrin pushed the button for her. She sat on the side of the bed for a long time after Janie succumbed to sleep again. Her skin might be gray, her hair limp, her body so thin it was painful to see, but Farrin remembered the beautiful girl Janie had once been. And it made her happy because she knew her friend was even more beautiful on the inside. She’d make a wonderful angel.
****
The wind whipped across the hillside with a stinging ferocity. Over the sound of the minister’s voice, Farrin listened to the flapping of the tent and long coats. Winter hadn’t paused in respect for Janie Carlisle’s funeral.
After all the tears she’d shed in the weeks leading up to Janie’s death, she’d been unable to shed a single one since. She was numb, afraid if she started crying she might never stop.
The minister closed his Bible, and Dara walked forward to place a bouquet of daisies atop her mother’s coffin. They weren’t the wildflowers she would have liked, but in mid-February it was the best she could offer. She’d insisted her mother wear the pink dress with the wildflowers on the collar, and no one disagreed with the heartbroken little girl.
Dress Me in Wildflowers Page 24
