“I remember.” Charlie nodded.
“You haven’t actually been here that long,” Jill said.
“I haven’t?” Charlie seemed genuinely surprised.
“Just a few days,” Jill said.
Charlie fell silent and stared at the ceiling.
“You okay, Charlie?” Jill asked.
“Just feels like a lifetime,” Charlie said. “Like there was a before-time and then a now-time, a before-Charlie and a now-Charlie.”
“I bet,” Jill said.
“That means Noelle is still obsessed with her new painting,” Charlie said.
“Exactly right.” Jill smiled.
“Just hard to fathom,” Charlie said.
Jill nodded. A radiology technician came into the room, and Jill looked up.
“The radiologist says we have all we need,” the technician said.
“And?” Jill asked.
“They’re getting a room ready for him,” the technician said. “But you should know . . .”
“Yes?” Jill asked.
“They will only keep him in a room for a couple days,” the technician said. “You’ll need to find a long-term care facility.”
“Why is that?” Jill asked.
“He’ll need care for a long time,” the technician said.
“Yes,” Jill said. “I guess that’s true.”
“I asked the nurse to get you a list,” the technician said.
“That’s not necessary,” Jill said.
“They won’t release him without a care facility,” the technician said.
“We’ll just bring him home,” Jill said.
“It’s a lot of work,” the technician said. “He’s really better off in a facility.”
“We’ll just split it up,” Jill said. “There’s a lot of us.”
Jill glanced down and saw that Charlie was crying.
“Well, just let me or your nurse know,” the technician said.
When the technician was gone, Jill leaned over Charlie.
“What is it?” Jill asked.
“I want to go home,” Charlie said. “I want to go home so bad I can taste it.”
“Then it’s all settled.”
Jill sat back. After a few minutes, an orderly came to take Charlie to his own room. When he got there, the room already had flowers and balloons from people wishing him well.
Another orderly came in. They carefully moved Charlie into the bed. The nurse came in to get him hooked up to all of the machines.
“Did you see . . .?” Jill whispered to the nurse.
“You can only have one at a time,” the nurse said. “Until he’s settled.”
“I’ll go,” Jill said. She leaned over and kissed Charlie’s cheek. “He can’t see you. You have to lean over him.”
Staring at the ceiling, he heard the door close. A moment later, Tink’s face appeared.
“Tink!” Charlie said.
She just smiled.
~~~~~~~~
Thursday afternoon — 1:15 p.m.
Blane had been asleep.
At least, he thought he’d been asleep, because the feeling was so weird and so real.
He opened his eyes. He was looking at the ceiling of his hospital room. Before the room had been closed to non-medical people, Heather had taped a digital photo frame to the ceiling above his face. He clicked the remote and watched a bunch of pictures of Mack and a few of Heather. There were pictures of their home and even a sonogram of their son-on-the-way.
Blane closed his eyes.
The feeling was still there.
It was like the tiniest of tiny lights.
“Flea-sized firefly,” Blane said out loud to no one.
He didn’t open his eyes.
The feeling was like the tiniest firefly in the world had been turned on inside of him. In his dream, he watched the light grow into a flame. And he felt . . .
. . .hopeful . . .
. . .energetic . . .
. . .positive . . .
. . .like he could do anything. He opened his eyes.
He felt like one of those stupid inspirational posters he refused to post at Lipson Construction.
“It only takes the tiniest spark to create the hottest flame,” one of the posters had said. The photo was of a campfire. Blane had argued that the tiniest sparks were also responsible for forest fires, which destroy habitats and lives. Jacob had laughed.
Now, here he was — lying in his hospital bed hoping the tiny spark, this little firefly would grow into a full blown fire.
He couldn’t remember a time when the oppressive exhaustion of HIV wasn’t with him.
He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t had to fight against a wall of sickness.
He couldn’t remember a time when tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that seemed possible.
He closed his eyes again.
The spark was definitely there.
He opened his eyes and watched the photos of his incredible life.
“Only you can prevent forest fire,” he said out loud.
As if on cue, his nurse entered into the pre-chamber of his room. She dressed in sterile scrubs and came into his room.
“Are you ready for lunch?” she asked. “I checked at noon and you were still asleep.”
“I’m hungry,” Blane said.
“What?” She was so surprised that she laughed. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard you say . . .”
“I’m hungry,” Blane repeated.
Even though he could only see her eyes, he could tell that she was smiling.
“What would you like to eat?” she asked.
“Hamburger — no — cheeseburger, french fries, and a shake — no, chocolate shake,” Blane said, and laughed. “I’d probably throw them up.”
“You would,” she said. “But it’s really good that you want them.”
Blane nodded.
“How ’bout if we start with some broth and crackers?” the nurse asked.
“Work our way to cheeseburgers?” Blane asked.
“Good plan,” the nurse said.
She changed his IV and helped him to the bathroom. He waited in an armchair by the window while she changed his bed. The whole process took about a half hour.
“So what do you think?” the nurse asked. “Are you still hungry?”
“Starved,” Blane said.
The nurse smiled.
“We’ll start with broth,” she said.
“And crackers,” Blane said.
“And crackers.” She smiled. “If you’re still hungry, we’ll get you more.”
Blane nodded. She helped him shuffle back to his bed. Exhaustion overcame him. He fell against the bed. She squeezed his arm and left the room.
He closed his eyes.
The spark had grown. The firefly was now the size of a tiny fly.
Blane smiled in anticipation of his broth and crackers.
Chapter Three hundred and thirteen
Just a little crazy
Thursday night — 9:15 p.m.
Tanesha stood in the front doorway to their little yellow house. Every light was turned off and the house was still. She scowled and softly closed the front door.
It was Jeraine’s turn to make dinner. She walked into the dark kitchen and flipped on the light switch.
Nothing.
She’d talked to her mother before she got on the bus home so she knew that Jeraine wasn’t with Jabari. He wasn’t at his parent’s house because Dionne was with her mother, and Schmidty had gone back to California after court that evening.
Where did that man go?
She closed her eyes as her heart beat a familiar rhythm.
“He’s out catting around.” Tanesha’s rage ignited. “Again.”
“That man cannot keep his dick in his pants.” The pulse of her rage rose.
He’s gone, her mind whimpered.
She stuffed down her sorrow and went back to rage. She picked up her phone and cal
led his cell phone. It rang somewhere in the house. He’d left his phone at home.
“Agggghhh!!” she growled.
She started to throw her cell phone against the wall and then decided against it.
“You have to trust me, he said,” Tanesha said out loud. “You have to believe in us, he said. And then he . . . he . . .”
What? He didn’t make dinner?
He went somewhere and didn’t tell her?
She poured herself a glass of water and thought through the last day or so. Sure, it had been crazy, but he’d been on track, sober, and dedicated to his new life. Wondering if he’d fallen asleep, she went upstairs. He wasn’t in their bedroom or bathroom. He wasn’t in the guest room they were setting up for Jabari. She set her empty glass in the kitchen and went downstairs.
She almost never went down here. This is where Jeraine entertained his celebrity clients and friends.
Not entertained, the Jeraine in her head said. Work. This is work. My work.
She sighed and went down the stairs. Jeraine had been writing songs for one of those barely clothed female pop singers. She had an album due. They’d even recorded a few songs down here, which Jeraine had worked late nights mixing.
It was good money. It was work he could do while going to brain therapy. She just wished he didn’t do it with his ex-lovers.
She turned on a light and walked through the small recording area. He wasn’t in the sound booth either. There was a light on in his tiny office on the opposite side of the basement. She went toward the light. Through the glass panes in the door, she could see that he was sitting in a chair, his forearms on this thighs, staring at something on the floor.
She tapped on the door, and he looked up. He got up to open the door.
“What’s going on?” Tanesha asked. Still angry from the wave of emotions she’d been through, she said, “I thought you were making dinner.”
“Dinner?” Jeraine nodded. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“You forgot?” Tanesha asked. She put a hand on her hip. “You forgot what?”
Her logical mind told her she was being stupid, but she couldn’t let go of the feeling that he’d betrayed her tonight. Instead, she piled all that hurt and all that anger onto the fact that he’d betrayed her by not making dinner.
He looked from the hand he had on her hip to the sneer on her lips.
“You thought I was out,” he said.
“I . . .”
Sucking his teeth, he nodded and sat back down.
“What?” she asked.
“I deserve that,” he said.
“Yes you do,” Tanesha said. “You . . .”
She clamped her mouth closed against the horrible words that lingered on her tongue. For a few minutes, she stood there seething over nothing while he stared at the envelope on the floor. Eventually, she got tired of her own insanity. She took a few deep breaths to calm down.
“What are you doing?” Tanesha asked.
Her voice had less than half of the anger she’d felt upstairs. His head jerked up with surprise.
“You calmed down?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said. “But when am I ever calm?”
He chuckled.
“What are you doing?” she asked again.
“Staring at an envelope on the floor,” Jeraine said.
Tanesha walked over to the envelope.
“May I?” she asked.
“Go ’head,” he said.
“Where are all your naked girlfriends?” The words came out when Tanesha was bending over.
“I don’t have any girlfriends,” Jeraine said. “And I haven’t seen a naked woman in days.”
“Whose fault is that?” she said as she stood up. He looked her up and down.
“I’m just saying that it’s been days,” he said.
She couldn’t help but laugh. He nodded toward the envelope and she looked down.
“Is this . . .?” she asked.
“Jabari’s DNA results,” Jeraine said.
“What . . .?”
She turned the envelope over and saw that it was unopened.
“You didn’t even look at it,” she said.
He nodded.
“What are you doing?” she asked again.
“I don’t know,” Jeraine said. “Really. I don’t. I was at court all day, dropped Schimidty at the airport . . . I got home about five. The envelope was in the slot with the rest of the junk.”
“I’m not really sure what happened next. I got some water and came down here to read my email and catch up with the chatter. Valerie Lipson’s in the tabs again.”
“I’ll tell her,” Tanesha said.
“Something about one movie and another new movie. I couldn’t figure it out.” Jeraine nodded. “Anyway, I didn’t look at the mail until it was time to get dinner started. Then . . .”
“How’d it get on the floor?” Tanesha asked.
“I pushed my chair back and it fell off the desk,” he said. “Like it’s following me.”
“Okay, that’s weird, psycho,” Tanesha said.
He gave her a goofy grin. She gave him a “dare me?” look and he nodded. She opened the back of the envelope.
“I was sitting here wondering how I got into this situation,” Jeraine said. “What am I going to tell Jabari? ‘Go fuck as many as you can?’ I think of Jabari in those situations — the women, booze, drugs, crazy shit, and I . . .”
Tanesha waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she tugged on the sheet inside the envelope.
“How did it get like that?” Jeraine asked.
She looked up from the envelope at him.
“Are you asking me?” she asked.
“I am asking you,” he said.
“Why do I think you got that way?” she asked.
“Right,” Jeraine said.
“You’re an addict,” she said.
“Besides that,” he said. “I get that I would have been an addict no matter what. But I could have easily just been a stay-at-home boozer like my uncle.”
“Why do I think you got that way?” she asked again, because she didn’t believe he wanted to hear what she had to say.
“Lay it on me,” he said.
She sighed, and he waited.
“Okay, fine,” she said. “I think you got that way because you don’t value or appreciate the gift of your own talent. You didn’t believe you were talented enough to make it big, and when you were finally there? You did everything in your power to degrade yourself to prove that you weren’t so talented after all.
“That’s not to discount the role the record company played and all the rest of that. That was real.”
She nodded. He didn’t say anything for a while.
“Why do you think I felt that way about myself?” Jeraine asked.
“We’ve talked about this,” Tanesha said.
“Humor me,” Jeraine said.
“I think you grew up with incredibly talented people,” Tanesha said. “I’ve seen Seth intimidate world-famous piano players. He’s . . . scary good. Your dad, too. And your mom? Her voice is still pitch-perfect. Amazing.”
“She still sings for commercials and stuff.” Jeraine nodded.
“I know,” Tanesha said. “That’s a lot to deal with.”
“But LaTonya, she . . .”
“She’s not you,” Tanesha said.
She looked down at the sheet of paper half pulled out of the envelope.
“You want to know what’s on this paper or you want to stall some more?” Tanesha asked.
“Uh . . .”
He looked up at her and she pulled the sheet out.
“You read it,” he said.
She read the form. Her face went blank and she blinked a few times before folding it. She shoved the letter into the back pocket of her jeans.
“What are we going to do about dinner?” Tanesha asked. “Every place is closed.”
“Oh, sorry,” Jeraine said.
; “Come on,” Tanesha said. “I’ll make sandwiches.”
She left his office. He caught up with her on the stairs. He tugged the letter out of her back pocket. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he opened the letter.
He was Jabari’s father.
Annette was not Jabari’s mother.
He read it again.
Annette was not Jabari’s biological mother.
“Lucky you have good lawyers!” Tanesha yelled from the kitchen.
At the sound of her voice, he looked up. Looking down, he read it again.
Annette was not Jabari’s mother.
Who was?
~~~~~~~~
Thursday night — 9:30 p.m.
Valerie paced back and forth in the main Castle kitchen. Everyone who lived here was either with Charlie or with Blane or asleep. Of course, Valerie couldn’t go see Charlie or Blane. No matter how much she cared, her appearance created crazy crowds. Valerie was once again held hostage by the paparazzi.
“And why is that?” she asked her infant, Jackie, who was sleeping in her car seat on the counter. “That’s right — another stranger made up something else about me and my career.”
As if Jackie had responded, Valerie nodded. She went back to pacing back and forth for a few minutes. Then she walked to the back door and opened it.
Mike was in his studio just beyond the garden. She peered out.
He should be here! He should help her! He should . . .
She scowled at herself. It was very rare for Mike to be caught up in a storm of inspiration. He needed her to be stable and calm. He’d asked her to give him a tiny bit of stable and calm time while he worked on this piece. Mike had given up a lot to be her husband. When she went back to work, he’d have to give up his studio.
He still came to bed every night, like he promised.
He still ate breakfast with her every morning, like he promised.
He still took care of Jackie in the afternoon while Valerie worked out, like he promised.
He’d kept all of his promises. She needed to keep hers.
Nodding to herself, she closed the door.
“Feeling a little crazy?” Jacob’s voice came from behind her.
She spun in place.
“What’s it to you?” Valerie asked.
“No wonder Mike left you for a younger woman,” Jacob said as he walked to the cupboard.
Fort Lupton Page 11
