“You’re looking better than you did when they brought you in here.”
“He’s really dead?” she asked. “I don’t have to ever worry again?”
“That’s right. I promise, you’re going to fine.” He stroked her arm.
“When can I go home?”
“In a few days.”
“I want to go home now,” she said.
“I’ll stay here with you the whole time.”
“What about Jubie?”
“Lavonne’s staying at the house with her. Plus, Kara and Violet have gone by to see her every day. They said she’s doing well, but she wants to know when the kittens are coming.”
“What about the restaurant?” she asked.
“Sophie’s got it.”
“And my bridesmaid fitting. I missed it.”
“Maggie postponed it until you get better.”
“What about Brody? I had stuff I needed to do for him.”
“He’s fine. He’s been here as much as he could. Kara and Maggie too. Lance has been in and out. Violet hasn’t been able to come because of Dakota, but she’s been checking with me at least once a day. Kyle’s driving me nuts texting me every other minute. Jackson keeps hounding the doctors.”
“They told me no one would ever love me, but they were wrong,” she whispered.
“They were dead wrong, Honor Sullivan. And as much as our friends love you, no one loves you as much as I do. No one ever could,” he said.
“Lucky,” she whispered and smiled, remembering Jubie’s innocent face when she’d said the same sentiment regarding Zane. “I’m so lucky.”
“I’d like to make you lucky tonight, but I’m afraid I’ll have to keep my hands to myself for a little while,” he said.
“Maybe we can divert the nurse later and you can slip in here with me.”
“You haven’t met these nurses. There’s no way I’m trying a thing until I get you home.”
“I’m starving. Will they let me have food?”
“That I can arrange.”
Honor started to cry when they entered the city limits of Cliffside Bay. “I don’t want to ever leave home again,” she said.
“Give it a few days. You’ll remember how you love to shop at Nordstrom in the city,” he said.
“Good point.”
Zane took her hand into his lap. “Jubie may act strange when we get home. She doesn’t know how to handle her feelings about you being in the hospital. To her, it’s the same as her mom. She wasn’t sure you were really coming home.”
Honor turned away from his earnest face to look out the passenger side window. She wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to put herself in Jubie’s place. A relationship with a new mother figure was in its infancy when Honor was snatched from her.
“It’ll be all right,” Zane said. “Just give her a little time.”
Jubie was waiting on the steps when they pulled into the driveway. Dressed in a pink dress with a matching bow in her ponytail, she scratched the cement with a stick.
On Zane’s arm, Honor crossed over to where Jubie waited. “Hi, Jubie.”
“Hey.” Jubie wouldn’t look at her.
“I missed you,” Honor said. “I’m glad to be home.”
“Are you still hurt?” Jubie tapped the stick against her bare leg.
“Not one bit. They fixed me up at the hospital good as new.”
“Then why’s King holding you up?”
King?
“She’s been calling me that,” Zane whispered in Honor’s ear.
“He’s worried I might fall, which is silly because I’m just fine,” Honor said.
Jubie looked up at her for the first time. “We made orange juice. Lavonne made me save some for you because you need vitamins.”
“Did I ever tell you I thought my orange tree was magic?” Honor asked.
“No. Is it?” Jubie narrowed her eyes.
“I think so,” Honor said. “It brought you to me.”
“That wasn’t magic,” Jubie said. “My mom died, and I had to come here.”
Okay, then. This might prove to be harder than surviving a bullet to the chest.
They walked up the steps, Zane still holding onto her arm. Honor couldn’t tell if the pain in her chest was from the bullet wound or Jubie’s words.
“Easy does it,” Zane said as they entered the foyer. She knew it was best to stay close. Her legs were shaky from staying in bed for a week.
They entered the living room. Honor had to fight tears at the sight of her beloved and familiar room. Sun shone through the front windows. In the distance, the sea was a deep blue. Home at last.
There were signs of the people who now lived here with her: a stack of children’s books on the window seat, Zane’s wine and beer magazines on the coffee table, a blanket folded over the sofa, a baby doll on the easy chair. All hints that a family lived here.
In the kitchen, Zane insisted she sit at the table while they prepared lunch. Jubie served Honor a cold glass of juice without making eye contact. When the sandwiches were prepared, they all joined her at the table.
“Tell Honor what you’ve been doing since she was away,” Zane said.
“We went to the beach with Miss Violet and Dakota. I had to teach him how to build a sand castle,” Jubie said. “He’s kind of a baby, but I like him anyway. King took me to see the school. I didn’t get to meet my teacher, but I saw the playground.”
“She starts next Monday,” Zane said.
“Are you excited for first grade?” Honor asked.
Jubie shrugged. “I guess so. I wish I knew some kids.”
Lavonne caught Honor’s eye and gave her a reassuring nod. They understood. Foster kids—always wondering if the next school would be as hard to make friends as the last one.
“You’ll meet some new friends soon enough,” Zane said.
“King went to the same school I’m going to,” Jubie said.
“Why are you calling Zane, King?” Honor asked. She knew the answer but wanted to hear Jubie’s explanation.
“I’m Princess Jubie and he’s King Zane.” Jubie said.
“Does that mean I’m Queen Honor?” Honor asked. The moment it was out of her mouth, she regretted it. Way to set myself up for rejection.
Jubie shook her head. “No. That’s just a special thing I do with Zane.”
Honor looked away, pretending to inspect her sandwich. Mrs. Aker’s voice reverberated in her head. No one will ever love you.
“You know what?” Lavonne asked Jubie. “Honor has a surprise for you.”
“What is it?” Jubie asked.
“She’s going to help you pick out new school clothes,” Zane said.
She was? Yes, she was. Girls and clothes—perfect for bonding.
“We can order from the computer since there’s not really a good shop here in town,” Honor said. “You’ll need a full wardrobe to start your first-grade year out with a bang.”
“Online shopping happens to be Honor’s specialty.” Zane flashed Honor his special smile. He meant to encourage her. He had her back. Always. Zane Shaw loves me. That’s all that matters. Everything else will fall into place.
“Everyone has their talents,” Honor said out loud.
“I don’t want new clothes. I like my old ones.” Jubie crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her plate.
“You need new ones, honey,” Lavonne said. “Your old clothes are too small.”
“They’re not too small,” Jubie said. “They’re fine.”
“You will sit with Honor, young lady, and pick out clothes,” Zane said.
Honor turned to him, surprised by his tone. Zane gazed at Jubie with a dad stare that would thwart any disobedience. Or, maybe not.
“I won’t,” Jubie said. She jerked to her feet. “And you can’t make me.” Jubie ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Her footsteps echoed through the house.
No one said anything for a moment. Honor bit the inside
her mouth to keep from crying. This was not the reunion she’d imagined during the days in the hospital when she ached to come home.
“She’s not allowed to be disrespectful,” Zane said. “Especially to you.” Zane had transformed seemingly overnight into his role as father. Did she have it in her to be a mother? What if she didn’t? What if Jubie never warmed up to her?
“It’ll pass,” Lavonne said. “She’s just scared.”
“I get it,” Honor said. But it still hurts.
“Go up to her,” Lavonne said. “Make her talk about it. That’s what Rinny would’ve done.”
Rinny. What Rinny would have done. She isn’t here. I am.
A deluge of shame made her sick to her stomach. Rinny had died of cancer. Honor lived. She must be generous, not petty. But this was hard—harder than she’d ever imagined. She was out of her element. Her cleverness couldn’t help her win the affection of this little girl. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for motherhood.
Zane rose from his chair and offered her his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you upstairs.”
At the top of the stairs she told him she would go in alone.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not true. This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that her mother went into the hospital and never came out. She’s scared. Remember that’s all it is. Just be yourself.” He gave her an encouraging kiss on the forehead. “And remember how much I love you.”
Honor found Jubie sitting cross-legged on the bed in her room with her bear in her lap. Tears streaked her face.
“May I sit?” Honor asked.
Jubie shrugged and played with her bear’s legs without looking up at her.
I’ll take that as a yes.
Honor sat on the side of the bed, wincing from the shot of pain that seemed to run up both arms. When she looked over at Jubie, the girl had fixed a pair of steely eyes on her.
“Does it hurt?” Jubie asked.
“A little. But it won’t for much longer.”
“How do you know it won’t come back?” Jubie asked.
“This isn’t an illness like your mother had. I was shot with a bullet. I had surgery and I’m all better now.”
“My mom had surgery. It didn’t make her better.”
Honor stared helplessly at her hands. What could she say to give this child reassurance? “I know this is confusing. I understand you’re scared another adult in your life’s going to leave you. But I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“Zane told me you were tougher than any old bullet,” Jubie said.
Honor smiled. “He’s right about that.”
“You were gone a long time,” she said.
“They wanted to make sure I was all better before they sent me home.”
“You won’t have to go back?” Jubie clutched her bear to her chest and looked at Honor with eyes too old for her face.
“I won’t have to go back.” Please God, let this be true. Keep me healthy to get this little girl raised.
“I don’t need new clothes,” Jubie said.
“Your clothes are too small. You’ve grown.”
“My mom got me these clothes.”
Her mom had bought them for her. Of course, that was it. How could she not have seen it? What could she say to comfort her? Violet’s shop popped into her mind. Her motto was to make something useful out of discarded items.
“Miss Violet could find you someone to make a blanket from all your old clothes. Would you like that?”
“A blanket? From my clothes?” Jubie raised both eyebrows like Honor had suggested the most outrageous idea in the world.
“Like a patchwork quilt. Do you know what that is?”
Jubie shook her head, no.
“Come into my office. I’ll show you what one looks like on the computer.”
“I won’t like it,” Jubie said.
“Let’s take a look anyway.”
Honor gingerly swung her feet off the side of the bed and walked to the doorway, holding her breath. Jubie scrambled off the bed and followed. Thank you, God. Please don’t let me mess this up.
In the office, Honor sat at her desk and pulled up several examples of patchwork quilts. She showed Jubie how the patchwork pieces were made from different types of fabric, then sewn together to make a blanket. “In the old times, people didn’t like to waste anything, so they made blankets out of whatever pieces of fabric they could find. Sometimes they were from old clothes.”
“Oh.” Jubie nodded with great gravity etched onto her forehead.
“We could do this with your clothes. That way you could keep the fabric your mother picked out forever.”
“Could I sleep with it?” Jubie asked.
“Absolutely. You could snuggle on the couch with it too. Or wrap your baby doll or your bear in it.”
“I guess that would be okay.”
“So, what do you think? Should we do some shopping?” Honor asked.
“Do I have to get what you say?” Jubie asked. “Or can I choose?”
“You can choose, but I get veto power,” Honor said.
“What’s veto power?” Jubie asked.
“She can say, no, if she thinks something’s inappropriate for school,” Zane said from the doorway.
They both turned to look at him.
“Inappropriate,” Jubie said. “Does that mean fancy? Because I like fancy.”
“Just like the girl in the book we read last night?” Zane asked. “Fancy Nancy.”
“Yeah.” Jubie turned to look back to look at Honor. “You can read it to me tonight, so you know what we’re talking about.”
Progress. Nothing would heal her faster than winning the heart of one little girl named Jubie.
A few minutes later, Honor and Jubie nestled on the couch with her laptop. Honor pulled up a few sites she knew from shopping for Dakota. The two of them looked through various options, commenting on what they liked or didn’t like. Shortly into their search, Jubie relaxed against Honor’s side. Happily, veto power wasn’t necessary. Pink and purple were the colors of the day, as were skirts and dresses. Every piece Jubie chose was either flouncy, lacy, or silky. They added leggings in various colors, several pairs of jeans, socks, and underwear.
“What about shoes?” Zane asked from behind the couch.
“Shoes. How could we forget shoes?” Honor asked.
“Could I get shiny ones?” Jubie asked.
“Yes, but we might need some tennis shoes too,” Honor said. “Something to play in for recess. There’s a lot of running around at recess.”
When their order was complete and paid for, Honor closed the computer.
“I never had so many clothes before,” Jubie said.
“I love clothes,” Honor said.
“Me too. But did it cost too much?” Jubie asked. “My mom always said everything cost too much. Then she’d get sad.”
“When you’re on a tight budget like your mother was, sometimes shopping can be stressful. It used to be like that for me. But now I have a really good job, so I can spend some on clothes for you.” I don’t want the other kids making fun of you like they did me.
“How do you get a really good job?” Jubie asked.
“The first step is to do the very best you can in school. Study hard and pay attention in class. If you do well, then you’ll be able to go to college. Usually college helps you find a good job, even though it may be that you have to start out at the bottom and work your way up.”
“Does King have a good job?” Jubie asked.
“He owns his own business. That’s the best kind of job to have,” Honor said. “But it’s hard work.”
“Can I work at the restaurant when I get older?” Jubie asked. “Like Miss Sophie?”
“We’ll need you to work there once you get a little older. It’s the family business. Everyone in the family has to pitch in. I used to work at the restaurant
with Zane’s dad,” Honor said. “It helped me to pay for college.”
“The family business,” Jubie said under her breath. She leaned her head against Honor’s shoulder. “Thanks for buying me clothes, Honor.”
“You’re welcome Princess Jubie.”
“I guess you could be a queen,” Jubie said. “You don’t look like one, though.”
“I don’t? What does a queen look like?”
Jubie made a round motion with her arms. “Chubby with big boobies.”
She heard Zane’s muffled sputter of laugher from behind them.
“And hair in a big puffball on their heads,” Jubie said. “You’re pretty like a princess.”
“You’re pretty like a princess too,” Honor said. “But someone has to be the queen.”
“We all know who the queen is here,” Zane came around the couch to sit on the coffee table. “She who must be obeyed.”
Honor laughed. “Maybe I shouldn’t be the queen.”
“It’s too late now,” Zane said. “You have to be the queen to my king.”
“I’m not changing my hair,” Honor said. “Or getting big boobies.”
Jubie wrapped a finger around a lock of Honor’s hair. “When are we getting the kittens?”
Honor locked eyes with Zane. “Soon,” she said. “As soon as we can locate some.”
“How long will that take?” Jubie asked.
“When the time is right, the perfect kittens will come to us,” Zane said. “Just like my queen and my princess. As my dad used to say, ‘all good things come to those with patience’.”
“I hate waiting,” Jubie said.
“Me too,” Honor said. “But Hugh used to say it built character.”
“Hugh said a lot of things,” Jubie said with a hint of irritation in her voice.
Zane and Honor laughed.
“You have no idea how true that is,” Zane said.
It wasn’t until several weeks later that Zane saw an ad from a local farmer for free kittens. The farm was about twenty miles north of town via the coastal highway. On a Saturday morning in September they headed up the coast in search of their forever kittens. The temperatures were in the upper seventies and sunny.
Jubie chattered from the backseat about what they should name the kitties, and should they get a black one or an orange one or maybe a gray one. After she left the topic of the kittens, she told them stories from school. Shelly and Rachel were her new best friends. They played hopscotch at recess and sometimes Shelly got mad because Rachel was better at hopscotch than anyone else. “Not me, though,” Jubie said. “I’m the best reader in class, so I don’t worry about hopscotch.” Her teacher had told her so and had given her a whole list of books to get from the library.
Jaded Page 26
