Jaded

by Tess Thompson

  What a day it had been, though. She could hardly be chastised for dwelling in the past or fearing the future. The day had bombarded her with change. Hugh was gone. Jubie had appeared. What was she to do? What about Jubie?

  The first instinct was to say no. Not now. I’m not ready. Logically, it was an absurd proposal—taking on a stranger’s child. A six-year-old child, not a baby one could raise and mold from the beginning, but a school-aged child who’d suffered the death of her mother and weeks of living with a young man who could barely take care of himself. And, there was Zane. They’d just begun. After their circuitous journey to arrive finally in each other’s arms, it seemed right they should have a period in which to make love on the kitchen counter or sleep late on weekends or jump in her sports car and drive up the coast for a getaway. They were young and without emotional responsibilities to anyone but each other. Wasn’t this the way it was supposed to be?

  Who was she kidding? Nothing in her life had ever been the way it was supposed to be. Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to be here in her own home with loads of cash in the bank, watching the sun set on the coveted hillside of the Pacific. Cancer at eighteen. That wasn’t supposed to happen either. Her mother’s addiction and foster homes and Gorham—none of that was supposed to happen to an innocent child. But they did. They were all events that could have taken her out, but somehow, she’d survived.

  All the good and bad had shaped who she was now. Wasn’t it true for Kara and Maggie? Tangled disappointments led them to Cliffside Bay and the men who loved them. Without hardships, they would not have arrived in the exact place they were supposed to be.

  Had God led her to this moment? For years now, she’d done as she pleased. Her past provided the ultimate drive toward success. She’d grabbed every opportunity to make a good life for herself. Grateful, always, for Hugh, knowing it was his guidance that had allowed her to decorate her home and buy a car and too many shoes. Hard work and discipline and the world was yours. Don’t ever apologize for your success. He’d taught her that. But now? Was it a new season?

  Hugh gone. Jubie here. Surely it wasn’t a coincidence. More possibly, it was a test. What mettle are you made of? Did Hugh’s example of kindness live on in her? Perhaps one’s capacity for generosity was like the sea, its depths unknown to the naked eye. When tested, though, how did you measure up? How deep were your reservoirs of compassion? Were you willing to use your redemption to redeem another? Hugh hadn’t flinched when she’d fallen from the sky into his life. He had stood up and said yes, I will mend her.

  Injured birds could fly again.

  Hugh. I miss you.

  She must take the girl. It was simple. When narrowed down to the essence—Jubie needed her and she was uniquely qualified to care for her. She could not grow a child in her womb. Jubie’s mother was gone. They were a childless woman and a motherless little girl. Two injured birds who must fly together.

  And Zane? Would he understand? Could he see it as she did? If not, what then?

  Her stomach turned over at the idea of losing him. She closed her eyes against the bright sunset. When she opened them, the crow had landed on the railing. It perched a few feet from her and turned its ugly eye to stare at her.

  She stared back at it. In the orange light, the crow’s feathers looked blue.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  The crow cocked his head to the right and let out a strident squawk that seemed to say, liar.

  “Fine. I’m afraid. But I’m going to do it anyway.”

  Another caw and then the ugly bird flew from the railing and disappeared into the darkened sky. In its place, the first visible star of the night appeared. Her chest ached. Hugh was there, watching over us. Be brave. Trust Zane.

  Honor escorted Jubie into the guestroom. Decorated in the same muted colors as the rest of the house, it faced the east with a view of the mountains. A queen-sized bed with a black frame was covered in a pink quilt and light green pillows. Three photos of roses in black frames hung above the bed. A dresser and white armchair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. She’d had it decorated simply as the primary guest room because it had its own bath. Soon, it would transform into a little girl’s room. Honor almost stumbled, thinking of all that entailed. But no, she would put one foot in front of the other and hold onto the wall if she had to. She would make this right.

  Jubie stood at the base of the bed and looked around the room with round eyes. “Pretty,” she said.

  “The bed’s big for just one little girl,” Honor said. “But you won’t fall out.” Why had she said that? Just because she used to fall out of bed as a child didn’t mean this one did.

  “It looks like a cloud.” Jubie clutched her bear to her chest.

  “This room always makes me think of a cherry tree in spring.”

  Jubie looked at her blankly. Too sophisticated for a six-year-old. Duly noted.

  Zane arrived with her battered suitcase.

  “Hi, Zane,” Jubie said.

  “Hello, kid. You like this room?”

  “Yes,” Jubie said. “It’s like a princess room.”

  “Then it’s perfect for you, Princess Jubie,” he said.

  Jubie grinned.

  “I got Lavonne settled in his room,” Zane said to Honor. “I’ll head downstairs and clean up the kitchen while you two get ready for bed.”

  Honor looked at Jubie. “Come on. Let’s get you in the tub.” God only knew when the child had bathed last. A while, if the tangles were any indication.

  “Will you call Kara and tell her what’s going on?” she asked Zane. “I’d like to bring Jubie in for a checkup in the morning.”

  “I’m on it,” Zane said and disappeared out the door.

  She had Jubie follow her into the bathroom. While the water filled the tub, Jubie sat on the closed toilet seat with her bear. Under these lights, dark circles under Jubie’s eyes appeared. Too many nights sleeping in a car. A nice bed would fix those.

  Once the tub was filled, she asked Jubie to take off her dress and get in the tub. “Do you want me to go in the other room?”

  No need. The little girl was already pulling the dress over her head. No one had hurt this girl. She was without fears. Thank God.

  Jubie left her bear on the toilet seat and climbed into the bath. “Is it a good temperature?” Honor asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You can call me Honor.”

  “Okay.”

  Honor picked up a bottle of body wash that smelled of melons and squirted some on a washcloth. Should she scrub her? How old did you have to be to wash yourself? “Do you need help?”

  “No. I can do it.” Jubie held out her hand and Honor gave her the cloth.

  Honor removed the bear and sat on the closed toilet seat. The water turned gray rather quickly. After Jubie had finished washing her body, she looked over at Honor. “I need you to wash my hair. My mommy always did that part.”

  She knelt on the soft rug near the tub and worked shampoo into Jubie’s hair. After she had it in a good lather, she used the hand shower attachment to wash it clean. “A little conditioner might help with these tangles,” she said as she applied it through to the ends. “Maybe a haircut soon too, huh?”

  Jubie tucked her chin and looked at her hands. “I’m sorry I was so dirty.”

  “Don’t be. Everyone gets dirty. Especially kids. That’s what baths are for.”

  “My mommy said you’re always supposed to take a bath before bed.”

  “Solid plan.” She grabbed a towel and held it out for Jubie. “Let’s get you dressed.”

  They went into the bedroom and Honor opened the suitcase. The clothes stuffed inside looked like they needed a good washing. “How about if I throw this all in the washer and you can wear one of my t-shirts like a dress for now.”

  “A shirt can’t be a dress.” Jubie giggled.

  She handed Jubie a brush from the sui
tcase. “Do you brush your own hair?”

  “I don’t like to.”

  “If you can’t get all the tangles out, we’ll try some magic juice for it.”

  “What about our orange juice?”

  Orange juice. She’d forgotten about that already. “You get your hair brushed out and I’ll make you some tomorrow for breakfast.”

  Jubie’s face lit up. She held her hand out for the brush.

  By the time Honor came back from the laundry room, Jubie had climbed onto the bed and fallen fast asleep, holding her bear in her arms. So much for the tangles. Or brushing her teeth. Or wearing a nightgown. That bear needed a good washing too, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.

  Honor placed the throw blanket over the child’s sleeping form and watched Jubie sleep. Long black lashes fanned out against her pink cheeks. The little trooper had obviously brushed her hair as best she could, although several tangles remained. She whimpered in her sleep. What did she dream of? Was it of her mother?

  Honor had dreamt of her own mother for years and years after they took her away. She shivered. Six years old—the same age she’d been when they’d ripped her from her own mother.

  She went to the girl’s bag. A framed photograph and a book of nursery rhymes were stuck into the side pocket. The photo was of Jubie and what must be her mother. It was recent, she guessed, given the scarf that covered Rinny’s head and Jubie’s age. Did she have one from before her mother became sick?

  She left the lamp on the bedside table lit, in case Jubie woke up scared in the middle of the night. Before she went downstairs, she knocked on Lavonne’s door.

  “Come in,” he said.

  She opened the door. He was dressed in a different shirt and jeans and looked considerably refreshed from his shower. “Jubie’s asleep already,” she said. “I thought you might like to come downstairs and talk some more, unless you need a good night’s sleep more?”

  He yawned. “I am awful tired.”

  “You get some sleep. I’ll talk with Zane…about all this.”

  “Honor, you’re the one to take her. It has to be you.”

  “Why?”

  “God wants it this way.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do.” He touched his chest. “I just know.”

  Kara and Zane were waiting for her downstairs. Kara drew Honor into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry about Hugh,” Kara said.

  “Thanks.” Don’t cry. Keep it together for Zane. “Thanks for coming,” Honor said as they disentangled from their embrace.

  Honor looked longingly over at her bar. “Is it wrong to have a drink?”

  “My dad would approve,” Zane said from the couch. “And as the resident bartender, I’ll make you a martini. Kara?”

  “No, thanks. I need to get home,” Kara said. “Before I go though, Zane showed me the documents Lavonne brought. From what I know from working in the hospital, it seems like Jubie’s mother made it legally possible for you to adopt her if you want to.”

  Honor sank into the couch. “This is the craziest thing ever.”

  “No, that’s not true,” Kara said. “Maggie came back from the dead.”

  They all laughed. “True. She has this one beat,” Zane said. “By a hair.”

  Honor accepted the martini from Zane. Little flecks of ice floated on the top. She took a grateful sip. It had just a hint of lemon, just like she liked. No one could make a martini like Zane Shaw. No one could do anything quite the way Zane did.

  “I called the security company,” Kara said. “They’re sending someone over for the foreseeable future. The guard will stay right outside the front door.”

  “I’m staying over regardless of who’s guarding that door,” Zane said. “We have a strange man in the house and out of the house.”

  “Lavonne’s strange, but harmless,” Honor said. “I mean, look what he did—bringing this little girl all the way here just because he thinks I should take care of her. I don’t know the first thing about raising a little girl.”

  “You take care of Brody,” Kara said. “He’s like a giant baby.”

  “True,” Honor said. But he didn’t have tangles in his hair.

  “I should go,” Kara said. “I have to work in the morning.”

  At the door, Kara drew her into another embrace. “Whatever you decide, we’re all here to help. You have a village.”

  A village. She had a village. Hugh had given her a village.

  After Kara left, Honor picked up her martini from the table and sat on the other end of the couch from Zane. He took her legs onto his lap and caressed her bare ankle with his thumb. “Are you as tired as I am?” he asked.

  “It’s been the longest day in the history of man,” she said. “With all the excitement, I forgot to ask you how it went with Sophie and Maggie.”

  “They took it hard.”

  “Should you be with Sophie?” Honor asked.

  “She insisted on working tonight—said it took her mind off things.”

  “I’m sorry this had to happen today of all days.” Honor examined his features, afraid of what she might see. Would he want to bail if she told him she wanted to keep Jubie? Would it all be too much for him to handle?

  “You know what I was thinking?” he asked.

  “I don’t, actually.” She smiled to hide her nervousness. “I’m scared to know.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s so much to take on. A little girl when we’re just starting out together.” she said. “I’m nervous you’ll get scared away.”

  He stared at her for a moment like he didn’t understand. “Listen to me, Honor Sullivan. Whatever happens, we’re in this together. It would take a lot more than this to scare me away from you. Not after everything we’ve already been through together.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” He squeezed her ankles with both hands. “When you were upstairs, I was thinking about you and my dad—what a special relationship you had with him. You needed each other, and you showed up at just the right time.”

  “He didn’t need me,” she said. “I was nothing but trouble for him.”

  “Not true. It’s not a coincidence that he took you under his wing right about the time I left home for good. He’d not had the opportunity to be a father to Sophie even though he wanted to. He needed you as much as you needed him.”

  Was that true? She couldn’t imagine it, but maybe she had filled a hole in his life left by Zane and Sophie. She’d like to think it was true.

  Zane continued, looking down at her ankles as he spoke. “It’s strange that Jubie would appear on the day he died. Is it a coincidence? Maybe. But maybe not. Perhaps it’s all meant to be and that’s why he died today instead of five years from now.” He looked over at her. “I know it sounds crazy.”

  “Not to me.”

  “Jubie’s not a baby,” he said. “You of all people know how hard it’s going to be out there for her—how it’s nearly impossible to be adopted.”

  Her chest constricted, imagining her in the system. “Yes.”

  “When I was out on the patio with Jubie watching her pick those oranges, I thought about how Dad raised me by himself, and that he had to give Sophie up, and then basically adopted you. He was a father above all else. I hadn’t thought of him that way before because he was so much more than that too. All this was swirling around my head and I couldn’t stop wondering what he would tell us to do if he were here. What would he do if it were him? Would he take in a little girl who needed him? Pretty sure the answer is yes. The evidence is clearly pointing in that direction. Another thing—this is happening because you were kind to someone who needed you, just like my dad was. It’s obvious what we’re supposed to do here.”

  He picked up her left hand and traced her ring finger with his own. “My dad dies, and this little girl shows up on our doorstep. Finally, we have our act together. It’s like the perfect storm…or maybe the opposite. The perfect summer’s day a
t the seaside. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “I do.” She didn’t need to elaborate. He understood. “I agree. The choice seems quite clear to me too.”

  “Here we are with all this.” He waved his hand around the room. “I mean, technically, the house is yours, but I mean that figuratively. We have the money and the time. We’re in love. We could provide a wonderful life for her.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. He was in. How could she have ever doubted him? Zane Shaw was his father’s son.

  “I’m scared,” she said. “Terrified.”

  “God, me too.”

  “What if she can’t love me?” There it was. What if she was still the girl no one wanted? “What if she can’t make room for anyone but her mother?”

  Zane’s expression softened. “Are you really worried about that?”

  “Maybe.” She stared into the contents of her glass, the old loop of those tapes loud between her ears.

  “She’s going to love the hell out of you, just like I do. Just like my dad did.”

  “What about your brewery? Will you be able to handle all this at once?”

  He looked directly into her eyes. “Honor Sullivan, you’re my destiny. We were brought together through a force greater than ourselves, far beyond our understanding, because we belong together. Nothing can pull us apart now. Giving love to someone who needs it will only make our love stronger.”

  “No one does this,” she said.

  “No one is us. No other couple in the world is as uniquely suited for this task.”