Come Home

by Lisa Scottoline

  “Huh?” Jill asked, confused a moment, caught in mid-thought, betwixt and between.

  “Trust me.”

  “I do.” Jill smiled and switched off the lamp, and just before it went off, Beef raised his head, his eyes clouded at the edges. It struck her that the golden had lived through more of her lives than Sam had, and she couldn’t imagine losing him. She reached over and patted his ample butt. “Let’s have Beef in our ceremony.”

  “Fine with me. I thought you didn’t want to.”

  “I changed my mind. If he jumps up on people, they’ll have to deal. He’s family.”

  “Done.” Sam smiled, tugging up the covers. “He can be my best man. He’s better looking than Mort.”

  “Aw, Mort’s a sweet guy.” Jill slipped under the sheets, which felt cool on her bare legs.

  “Agree, but he never grew up. Not like me. I was born grown up.”

  Jill smiled. It was part of Sam’s charm, to her. She’d felt an ease with him from the start, which was a blind date set up by an endocrinologist they both knew, who thought Jill’s bookish side would find common ground with a doctor in academic medicine like Sam, and she’d never felt more herself with any man, except Gray. She shifted over and rested her head on Sam’s chest. His cotton T-shirt was soft against her cheek, with the iron-on Penn faded out of existence.

  “Okay?” Sam held her close.

  “Okay.” Jill grew still, listening to the sounds of his heart. She listened differently since Gray had passed, hearing not the beats but between them, trying to pick up the tiny, subtler sounds that made the difference between life and death. She didn’t know whether she did it because she was a doctor or a widow, or both.

  “Everything’s going to be all right,” Sam said, reading her mind.

  “How do you know? What’s your proof?”

  “You’re asking me, seriously?”

  “Yes. You’re a scientist. Talk facts, not belief.”

  “Well, then.” Sam gave her another squeeze, in the darkness. “My proof is, right now, and right here. Just be a minute, and you’ll see.”

  Jill smiled uncertainly, then tried just to be, and came to understand what he meant. They were happy, really in love, a grown-up love that came from knowing and really appreciating the other person. Sam was her best friend, and she was his, and they had great kids and many other blessings. Their bedroom was large, quiet, and still. The darkness around them was as soft as black velvet, and a breeze billowed through the sheers, the aftermath of the storm. The burglar alarm was on, and the dishwasher thrummed downstairs. They lived on a pretty street lined with pin oaks, in a suburb outside of Philadelphia, which was just like all the suburbs outside all the cities all over the world.

  Sam gave her another warm, cottony squeeze. “See?”

  Jill felt the exact same way. “Yes. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. And you’re stuck with me, forever.”

  “You, too,” Jill said, after a moment.

  “Now, let’s get some sleep.” Sam let out a final sigh, and in time Jill could feel his arms begin to slip, loosening his grip. He turned over in the next minute, and she pulled up the comforter, wondering. She’d believed in forever in her twenties, when Gray had said it, meaning every word, and she’d believed in forever in her thirties, when William had said it, lying through his teeth. But she’d lived long enough to know that forever couldn’t be guaranteed to anyone. Even tomorrow couldn’t be relied upon.

  She closed her eyes, feeling suspended in time, between past and present, here and there, now that Abby was sleeping across the hall. Jill had thought that Abby and Victoria were a part of her past, her ex-life, that followed behind her, like a shadow, but Jill wasn’t so sure of that, anymore. She was beginning to think that the past was an overlay on the present, like a transparent page in an old-school anatomy textbook. That Abby and Victoria hadn’t really left her life, but had been lingering like ghosts in a familial limbo, waiting until she found them. Waiting until now.

  Jill thought about getting married for the third time. She didn’t have the heart to lose again, and neither did Megan. She was betting for them both, on forever. She wanted it so badly this time, and she wanted it with Sam. He was the last great love of her life. On impulse, she slid out of her T-shirt and panties, then shifted over and pressed herself against his back, feeling his warmth against her breasts, through the thin cotton. Her arms found their way around his waist, and she nuzzled his neck, kissing the hollow behind his ear, where his whiskers were rough, out of a razor’s reach.

  “Baby?” she breathed, a question that Sam didn’t need words to answer. He stirred and came to wakefulness, shifting onto his back and reaching for her when she climbed onto him, kissing him. He tasted still of toothpaste, and his breath came quicker when she wrangled off his T-shirt and boxers, leaving the both of them naked, together, skin against skin, until they were nothing but each other, and all the clothes, eyeglasses, stethoscopes, and employee IDs had been stripped away, and the roles they played for the rest of the world had ended, and she felt as if she had been broken down like a stage set, finally becoming herself. And in that moment, she was no longer a mother or a doctor, but simply a woman, his woman.

  And that was not only enough, that was everything.

  Chapter Five

  “Mom!” Megan whispered, loudly. “Abby’s here! What’s going on? Mom, Mom!”

  Jill woke up to find an astonished Megan, shaking her awake. It had to be before dawn because the bedroom was still dim, quiet except for Megan, who was dressed for swim practice in her yellow Valley West hoodie. Her hair was pulled back in its doubled-under ponytail, its dry ends sprayed out, stiff from chlorine.

  “Mom, Abby’s here! In my bed! Oh my God, did you even know that?”

  “Yes, I do, hi, honey.” Jill rose slightly, propping herself up on an elbow. The clock read 5:15 A.M., and she didn’t have to be up until seven, for work. “I didn’t expect you this early. What’s going on? Did Coach call a practice?”

  “Yes, I have to get my stuff, but Mom, Abby’s in my bed. What’s she doing here? It’s so weird! You know, right?”

  “Yes, remain calm, and let me explain.” She sat up with the grim realization that she’d have to tell Megan about William, right now.

  “Why? Why is she here? I have to get in my room, Courtney’s mom is picking me up in twenty minutes, but Abby’s sound asleep, in my bed! In my nightgown. How weird is that? So weird!”

  “Relax, please.” Jill inhaled, bracing herself as Sam began to stir and Beef stood up in bed, wagging his tail. Megan looked over at Sam, bewildered.

  “Sam, hi, did you meet Abby, my stepsister? She’s sleeping in my bed. In my nightgown.”

  “I met her.” Sam smiled sadly, knowing that the news about William’s death was coming.

  “Megan, sit down, would you?” Jill patted the bed, next to Beef, who wagged his tail so hard his butt wiggled. “I need to talk to you.”

  “What’s going on? Why is she here?” Megan sat down, petted the dog, and set her omnipresent phone beside her. “You’re scaring me, Mom. Why do I have to sit down? Is she sick or something?”

  “No, but I have bad news, about William.” Jill prepared herself to break her daughter’s heart. Motherhood was not for the weak. She put her arm around Megan’s shoulders. “Honey, I’m sorry, but Abby came here to tell us that William died, a few days ago.”

  Megan gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes filmed. “Oh my God,” she said, hushed.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Jill hugged her closer, and Megan wilted in her embrace, holding back her tears, her lips going tight over her braces. Jill’s heart broke for her. “I’m so very sorry, honey.”

  “This is horrible,” Megan whispered, stricken.

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “Really, is it true? Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “I know, I’m s
orry.” Jill hugged her close and nuzzled her hair, breathing in her young-girl smells of vanilla oil and strawberry-scented conditioner. “He had a heart attack, because of some medication he took.”

  Megan looked over, her eyes wet with tears, her brow furrowed with pain. “Like, he was allergic?”

  “No, he had a bad reaction to prescription medication, which he mixed with alcohol.”

  “Like he had a drink and that was it?” Megan’s lower lip trembled.

  “Yes.”

  “Can that even happen?”

  “Yes, it can.” Jill didn’t mention Abby’s suspicions. It was pointless and would hit Megan like a double whammy. Beef settled down and put his head on Megan’s leg, evidently getting the message, for a change.

  “That’s so random.” Megan’s cell phone chirped on the bed, signaling a text, but she didn’t even hear it, which told Jill how upset she must be.

  “Honey, I think I should call Coach Stash and tell him what happened. I’m sure he’d let you stay home from practice.”

  “No, don’t, I can’t, Mom.” Megan shook her head, wiping her eye, though it quickly filled again. “I’m captain, I can’t let the team down. Coach Stash is counting on me, they all are. We have qualifiers for states this weekend, remember?”

  “But he’d understand, there’s a death in the family.”

  “No, no, I can’t,” Megan shot back, her voice quavering. “I have to go. We were lucky to get the pool at the high school, that’s why he called the practice. We have doubles today. This is our year, Mom.”

  Jill could see the pressure on Megan’s face, and it killed her to think that her daughter’s life was so scheduled that she didn’t have time to cry. “Honey, I know, but this is a big deal, and you can stay home and we can talk about it.”

  “You have work, anyway, and I can’t miss, I never miss. The team’s counting on me.”

  “This is an exception, something he’ll understand.” Jill felt the conversation going in the wrong direction. They were talking about practice instead of Megan’s feelings, and Sam must’ve had the same thought, because he shifted over and touched Megan’s arm.

  “I’m so sorry, kitten. This is terrible news, and I know it comes as a terrible shock.”

  “It is, it’s so weird and horrible and random.” Megan pressed her lips together, making a hump over her braces. “I know I shouldn’t be upset, I mean, I hadn’t seen him in so long, like, years.”

  “Of course, you’re upset,” Sam said, gently, stroking her arm, and Jill gave her a squeeze.

  “Right, of course you feel upset and sad, sweetie.”

  Megan hung her head, and a tear fell on the comforter. “I shouldn’t be, not really. He didn’t want to see me. He didn’t answer my emails, and he’s only my stepfather, anyway.” She caught herself, shooting Sam a teary look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know you didn’t.” Sam rubbed her arm. “This is random, as you say. Nobody knows how to react.”

  Megan turned to Jill, blinking wetly. “How’s Abby? She must be so upset. Is that why she came here? She doesn’t have any parents anymore. Now she’s an orphan, right?”

  “She is,” Jill answered, touched that Megan would even think of Abby at a time like this. Jill gave her another hug. “She invited us to a memorial service this afternoon, if you feel up to going. We can go after practice. It’s at three o’clock.”

  “I can go, I’ll go.” Megan looked uncertainly from Jill to Sam, wiping her eyes. “Right? Okay? Do you guys think that’s okay, or weird?”

  Jill stroked Megan’s cheek. “I think it’s okay, and it makes sense.”

  Sam nodded. “Agree. I don’t think it’s weird, at all. I can’t go with you, I have a meeting with a colleague. Your Mom said you guys can go alone, but I’ll cancel if you want me to come with you.”

  “No, thanks, okay.” Megan turned to Jill, keeping tears at bay. “Mom? Right? Do you want to go? I mean, I know you didn’t love William anymore, and you got mad at him, from the divorce.”

  Jill gave her a squeeze. “That doesn’t matter now. Of course I want to go, and I’ll take you.”

  “I don’t really know why I want to, exactly.” Megan rubbed her cheeks, covering her braces with her lips again. “I just think that it’s the right thing to do. Like Grandma would say, I should pay my respects.”

  Jill felt pleased, thinking of her mother, who had passed away five years ago. Jill still missed her, every day. “I think Grandma would be so proud of you, right now.”

  Megan turned to Sam, with a sniffle. “I feel so bad about what I said, it was dumb. I love you, Sam, even though you’re my stepfather—oh, Jeez, you know what I mean, right?”

  “Yes, and I love you, too.” Sam opened his arms, and Megan threw her arms around him. He gave her a big bear hug. “I love you very, very much. We love each other, and nothing else matters.”

  Jill felt tears spring to her eyes. She couldn’t wish for a better stepfather to Megan. Sam’s calm manner was the perfect antidote to their mother-daughter drama, and he helped Megan with her homework, drove her to practice when Jill couldn’t, and was even teaching her photography. Suddenly Megan’s phone rang, a new Lady Gaga ring tone, and its screen lit up with a photo of Megan’s best friend, Courtney.

  Megan let go of Sam. “Oh, no. Mom, can I get that? She’s calling to tell me they’re on their way.”

  Jill hesitated. “Sure, get it.”

  “Thanks, I’ll go into your bathroom. I won’t be long, I have to get ready.” Megan grabbed the phone, pressed a button, and left the bedroom, saying, “Court, you wanna hear something totally weird and horrible?”

  The bathroom door closed, Beef went back to sleep, and Jill eyed Sam. “That was okay, to let her take the call, I figure.”

  “Sure. Let her talk it over with Courtney.” Sam put an arm around her, and Jill felt a twinge.

  “She’s upset, but she’s keeping it in.”

  “She’ll process it her own way. She’ll talk to Courtney and her pals on the team. Isn’t that what girls do?” Sam made a talking mouth with his hand. “Yakety-yak?”

  “Is it wrong to miss the days when she yakked about it with me?”

  “No.” Sam put an arm around her. “She’s reached that age, honey. I saw it with Steve, too, but I know it’s not the same as a mother and daughter. You guys are closer than we were, because of all those shoes.”

  Jill smiled. She knew he was trying to cheer her up.

  “And to her credit, that’s why she chose to go to the memorial service. She’s growing up, and you take the good with the bad.” Sam gave her a squeeze, and suddenly Jill realized that it had gotten quiet in the bathroom. Megan had stopped talking on the phone.

  Jill rose. “Did she hang up?”

  Sam looked over, and Jill heard a noise in the bathroom and knew what it was, instinctively. A muffled sob. The loss of William had just hit Megan, and she’d started to cry.

  “Mom?” Megan called out, her voice choked with sobs. “I need you.”

  “Sure, honey,” Jill called back, already on the way.

  Chapter Six

  Jill and Megan moved quickly and quietly around the bedroom, packing a swim bag for practice, while Abby made a sleeping mound in the bed. Megan was shaky and crestfallen, still recovering from her crying bout, and Jill’s heart went out to her, having to function when she felt so raw.

  “Megan,” she whispered, by the bureau. “Did you eat? I can get you a breakfast bar, or some yogurt.”

  “No, thanks, I’m gonna be so late.” Megan was digging in her drawer. The room was growing lighter, and they could see without a lamp. “Where are my new sweats?”

  “Still in the laundry room.” Jill had seen them on the top of the hamper. She hadn’t gotten to the wash yet. “I’ll wash them tonight, okay?”

  “Okay.” Megan took a bunchy set of old sweats out of the drawer, stuffed them in her gym bag, then hurried to her bathroom. “Oh
Jeez,” she said softly.

  Jill went to the bathroom, which had been left in disarray. The shower door hung open, the shampoo lay on its side, and a pile of wet towels sat on the floor. “Sorry, honey.”

  “It’s okay. She must’ve been so upset.” Megan grabbed her conditioner and shampoo and tossed them into her bag, then looked over at the bed, with wet eyes. “Uh-oh, we woke her up.”

  Jill turned around to see Abby sitting up in bed, raking back her long hair, and Megan heaved a little sob, dropped her bag, and hurried over to the bed.

  “Abby, I’m so sorry about your Dad.” Megan reached for her, and Abby raised her arms, equally teary, and the two embraced, crying and hugging each other, like two halves of the same, broken heart.

  Standing to the side, Jill felt her throat catch, sad and happy, both at once. She loved seeing the sisters reunited, but not on the worst day they could share, and she thought of all the times they had consoled each other, growing up. When Megan hadn’t gotten a speaking part in Annie, Abby threw her a pity party with a pint of vanilla Häagen-Dazs, chenille bathrobes, and an “I Will Survive” mixtape. And when a mean girl had teased Abby about her low PSAT scores, Megan had treated her to sundaes at Friendly’s, with money she had earned babysitting. Ice cream fixes everything, Megan had said, and they had laughed through their tears. But not this morning.

  Jill could hear the tremor in Abby’s voice as she buried her head in Megan’s neck. “I’m sorry, too, for you. I know you loved him, too.”

  “It’s so horrible. I can’t even believe it.”

  “That’s just what I think. I can’t believe it.” Abby released Megan, wiping her eyes. “I just tell myself, this isn’t really happening. It’s not. It’s not even possible.”

  “I know, you must be so sad, I’m so sad for you.” Megan looked stricken all over again, but was trying to compose herself, wiping her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even know what to say.”

  “I love you, Megs.” Abby sniffled, sad again. “Sorry, I’m such a crybaby.”

  “I love you, too.” Megan frowned, her lower lips trembling, seeming to cry and smile, both at once. “It’s hard, I mean, he’s your Dad.”