“You’re kidding, right?” he scoffed.
“I’ll only be gone a few days,” Willow insisted.
“That woman is crazy,” he bellowed.
“She is sick, and she needs my help.”
“She shot a fucking gun at you. No, Willow!”
“No?” Willow questioned in disbelief. Zachary had said no. No wasn’t even part of their vocabulary. She had sat back countless times and watched him pursue other women and that word hadn’t even crossed her mind—just as he had watched her leave with other lovers. Where was this coming from? Flabbergasted, she pleaded, “Please, don’t force me to choose between you and her.”
“What choice?” Zachary shot back, waving his arms wide for emphasis. Shaking his head with disgust, he muttered, “You made your decision months ago. If you go back to her now after everything she has put you through, we’re finished.”
“Zachary, you don’t mean that,” Willow whispered.
“You have a month to move your stuff out. After that, I’m moving back in and anything you’ve left behind I’ll either trash or donate to charity.”
“Please, don’t do this,” Willow begged through quivering lips.
“Willow, I love you, and a part of me probably always will. I hope you have a good life, but I just don’t see that happening if you stay this path.”
Now, four days later, Willow was officially homeless, jobless, and broke as she had spent the last bit of her savings on the plane ticket. On the bright side, it wasn’t her first time in this position and she had always managed to get by in the past. On the not-so-bright-side, Hannah believed they were sisters. Even though it came straight from a highly trained, medical expert, Willow had a hard time believing it until she stepped out on the terrace.
Hannah let out a loud, girlish squeal, crossed the distance in a few exuberant leaps, wrapped her arms tightly around Willow, and began twirling them around in circles. After several dizzying moments, she came to a sudden stop. They had to lean against each other to keep from falling down.
Speaking to an elderly woman who was sitting close, Hannah said, “See Margaret, I told you my sister was real.” She looked down at Willow with an impish grin and explained, “She thought I was making you up because she has tons of imaginary friends. I’m so happy you finally here, but…” Hannah paused as her vibrant expression fell flat. Looking both confused and hurt, she continued, “…where have you been?”
“I, hmm, I had some things I had to take care of,” Willow mumbled. Even though she wanted to do nothing more than flash Sam an I-told-you-so glare, she refused to look his way.
How she hated him! If he was Hannah’s definition of a well-adjusted, adult child, she was just as deluded about that as she was about everything else. Sam was a self-indulgent, whiny, little bitch. But for Hannah’s sake, she would play nice, even if it killed her.
“Oh,” Hannah declared and then her wide smile returned. “It doesn’t matter. You are here now and that is all that counts. Come here,” she insisted as she led Willow back to the couch where Kate sat still looking very perplexed.
Sam held himself back from the trio of females, ignoring the worried-looking glances Kate cast his way. Now that Willow was beside her, Hannah’s world looked complete. Feeling both infuriated and self-conscious, he silently signaled to Kate that it was time to go.
As she was standing, Hannah looked her way, “You’re leaving so soon?”
“We did just fly in from Europe. It would be nice to actually go home,” Sam gritted through his teeth.
“Right,” Hannah muttered. “I’ll be back in a few days. Give me a call.”
The fact that she had said that to Kate and not him was all the ammunition he needed to walk away without a second glance.
“Well, that was a complete fucking waste of two decades,” Sam growled as he started the rental car.
“Sam…” Kate whispered hesitantly.
“No,” he yelled in denial. “I’m glad they fried her fucking brain. If anyone deserved it, it is Hannah.”
“She will remember,” Kate insisted.
“I hope she doesn’t. You were right from the beginning. We don’t need her in our life.”
Kate held her tongue. No, they didn’t need Hannah in their life, but Sam needed her in his. He was hurt and angry. How could such a promising beginning turn into not-so-marital bliss? This was all Hannah’s fault. Damn that woman, she was still interfering even though now she appeared to be utterly oblivious.
Getting Hannah released from the clinic was only a matter of filling out the proper paperwork. Consent forms and release statements—when all was said and done, Willow had scribbled her signature at least two dozen times, although she wasn’t exactly sure what all of it meant. Her mind was still numbed by the she-thinks-we’re-sisters cloud and was only vaguely aware that she had agreed to accompany Hannah back home and provide a safe and secure living environment.
Once they were finally free to leave and Hannah had said her multiple, tear-filled goodbyes, Willow discovered they had a slight problem. Mr. Moneybags, the man with a team of lawyers all waiting to attend his every whim, had left a few hours ago. Willow had two dollars in change in her pocket, one plane ticket back home, and a rental car with enough gas to get them to airport and no further. Hannah had nothing. She left wearing the same clothes she had worn when she arrived. All her other personal belongings, including credit cards and driver license, were back home in Austin. Not wanting to cause any undue stress, Willow sat behind the wheel of her car and absentmindedly strummed her fingers against the dashboard, trying to figure out their next move.
“It’s getting a little warm in here. Could you start the car please?” Hannah asked sweetly.
“Oh sure,” Willow muttered.
After several moments, Hannah spoke up again, “We’re not going anywhere. Is there a problem?”
“No, not a problem. I’m just trying to figure out how we are going to get home,” Willow answered. “You don’t have your ID. I know they would recognize you, but there are regulations, and I don’t think they would let you board an airplane without it.”
“So, it’s a road trip,” Hannah exclaimed. “How fun! I wish Zachary had been able to come along. We could have made stops at a few interesting places he would have loved.”
“Yeah, it would have been a blast,” Willow retorted cautiously. “The thing is—I forgot to bring any money with me.”
Hannah started giggling. “You’re such a silly girl. Always forgetting the important stuff. If I could borrow your phone for a second, I can call someone to help?”
Willow surrendered her phone, then sat and silently listened as Hannah spoke into the line in a calm and efficient, yet overall pleasant, voice. Then they waited, but surprisingly for only a few minutes, before a black Cadillac Escalade pulled up beside them. A very polished, professional-looking man stepped out of the vehicle, and Hannah unsnapped her seatbelt.
“We are going to switch out vehicles. He can take this back to the airport, and we can drive the Escalade home,” Hannah explained. Stepping out of the car, she turned back towards Willow and asked, “Will ten be enough?”
“Ten dollars?” Willow questioned warily.
Hannah flashed her a wide grin that crinkled her nose ever so slightly. Looking back at the man, she said warmly as she took the small leather pouch from his outstretched hand, “Thank you so much. Could you please tell Chris that I’ll have his vehicle delivered in a few days?”
“Ten thousand,” Hannah explained as Willow started the SUV. “You know how cautious Chris is. He believes in planning for emergencies.”
No, Hannah, I don’t because I have no freaking idea who Chris is, Willow thought to herself. He didn’t sound all that cautious though. Seriously, who hands over their vehicle and ten grand without a single question?
The first leg of the trip home was rather uneventful. Hannah passed the time chirping incessantly about the old days—those same old days that
never really happened. With each passing mile, Willow grew increasingly more concerned. Hannah wasn’t just a little confused; she had created an entirely new existence. As much as she hated to agree with anything Sam said or thought, inwardly she screamed, You fried her fucking brain!
The transformation was astonishing, but Willow didn’t comprehend how complete it was until, in a moment of frustration, while she stuck behind a slow-moving semi-truck and an eighty-year-old Sunday driver cruising in the passing lane, she exclaimed, “Speed up or get off the fucking road!”
Willow felt Hannah staring at her. When she looked over, she looked slightly appalled. “That was a little harsh,” Hannah gently reprimanded.
“Sorry,” Willow muttered.
“When you use language like that, people might form misconceptions about you,” Hannah explained softly.
This time it was Willow’s turn to be flabbergasted. Had the woman that used to pop F-bombs like candy just lectured her about profanity? “I’ll keep that in mind,” Willow retorted.
Perhaps, she had sounded too harsh? Hannah didn’t look nearly as lively as she had a few moments ago. Although not exactly confused, Hannah’s expression looked troubled, as if she were trying to make sense of the woman sitting beside her and the woman she knew her to be. Willow could sympathize. She felt exactly the same.
That evening they stopped at a hotel just outside of El Paso. Exhausted by the events of the day and the long hours driving, Willow thought that she would fall sound asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Strangely, as soon as they opened door to the double-queen bedroom, her senses went on full alert.
She had spent most of the day believing that this was Hannah’s sick idea of a joke. The last few hours she had secretly prayed it was all just a charade. Willow knew that Hannah would crack as soon as she came within close vicinity to a bed, but she didn’t.
Instead, she continued with her same innocent enthusiasm. “This will be so much fun! It will be just like our old sleepovers.”
Mentally stretched to her breaking point, Willow snapped, “We’re not real sisters. You know that, don’t you?” She regretted saying it as soon as the words slipped out, but not because Dr. Williams had told her she needed to be patient. It was the look on Hannah’s face—beyond hurt—as if Willow had just sucker punched her in the gut and then spit on her face when she was down.
At least one thing about Hannah remained the same. Her emotions still simmered near the surface and flipped with the ease of a switch.
Her voice was heavy with unshed tears as she said, “I know we are not biological sisters. We were both adopted, but I still remember the day mommy and daddy brought you home. It never made a difference before. Why does it now?”
“It doesn’t,” Willow declared as she sat down on the end of the bed and rubbed her throbbing temples. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Here, let me help,” Hannah insisted as she sat down behind her and began to massage her scalp.
Willow’s body melted like butter and began to instinctively respond to Hannah’s touch. Oh God, it had been so long! She had missed her so much! Then, suddenly, Sam’s voice screamed inside her mind, ‘When Hannah comes to and remembers she had been fucking her sister—that might not be traumatic?’
Shooting off the bed like a lit stick of dynamite, Willow said lamely, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
Although she hadn’t planned on an overnight stay and hadn’t brought along a change of clothes, the hot water of the shower felt wonderful against her frayed nerves. Besides, if she stayed quiet, Hannah wouldn’t be able to hear her tears. What started as a light trickle soon grew into wracking sobs that stole her breath. How could she possibly go along with this charade? She couldn’t even be close to Hannah without her body responding. But how could she walk away? In Hannah’s mind, they weren’t just ordinary sisters. They were sister-survivors sharing the dark secrets of her past. How could she leave knowing she wouldn’t just devastate Hannah but herself as well?
Chapter 23
Early the next evening, they were minutes away when Hannah announced, “We should stop by the store. I don’t know what I have in the refrigerator or if any of it is still good.”
“Hannah, you have people that take care of that for you,” Willow explained.
“I do?” Hannah questioned, sounding surprised. “It doesn’t matter. With all these medications I’m taking, my tastes have changed. We can just drop in for a few snacks, if you don’t mind?”
“It’s not a problem,” Willow agreed. What trouble could they get into in a grocery store? Forty-five minutes later, after Hannah had filled not one cart but two, Willow had her answer. She didn’t even think about the tabloids until they got to the checkout lane and Hannah came to an abrupt halt. Standing eerily motionless, Willow’s eyes followed her probing stare, and there was Hannah’s likeness plastered all over the covers.
After several tense seconds when Willow started to panic, thinking this might just be the trigger to set off another episode, Hannah said politely to the woman working the register, “I would like to speak to your manager.”
The woman looked confused until she recognized Hannah and became flustered. “Yes Miss Fairbanks. I’ll go get him.”
Hannah remained silent until the woman came back with the store manager in tow. He held out his hand to her and said, “Miss Fairbanks, hello. I understand there is a problem?”
“No, not a problem per se, but I do find some of the reading materials in the checkout lanes unsuitable and inappropriate for families with young children,” she explained as she reached for one particularly offensive cover. The cover photograph was recycled from a jewelry campaign she had shot a few years ago. The diamond necklace was fabulous, but the fact that it appeared she wasn’t wearing anything else—not so much. She wasn’t too pleased with the headline either—Beauty Goes Insane. “I understand you have a job to do, and part of your job is selling these kinds of publications, but I would like to make a suggestion. Perhaps you place one of those plastic, black shields over the photograph?”
“Yes, of course, Miss Fairbanks. I’ll see to it right away,” the manager readily concurred.
“Thank you. I appreciate it very much,” Hannah answered and then flashed him one of her million-dollar smiles.
Once they loaded the groceries into the back of the SUV and were once again on their way to Hannah’s house, Willow glanced over at Hannah. She looked calm but slightly subdued.
“Are you all right?” Willow asked quietly.
“Is that what they have been saying about me—that I went insane?” Hannah asked.
Willow wanted to lie, but she knew she couldn’t keep Hannah from discovering the truth. “Some of them, yes. Others were more ambiguous about the nature of your condition.”
Hannah nodded, seeming to take it in, and then she turned and returned Willow’s gaze. Her intense stare was penetrating. “Is that what you thought too?”
“I didn’t know what to think at first,” Willow answered honestly. “Now, I understand that you were very ill.”
“I’m better now,” Hannah promised.
“I know that,” Willow whispered.
“Good.”
When they did finally arrive at Hannah’s home, it was hard to tell who was more surprised—the staff or her. Hannah greeted them all with warm affection, and they reciprocated by remaining formal and distant. Clearly, it was not the homecoming either anticipated.
Although Hannah claimed to be better, Willow wanted to stay, for a few days at least, to help her adjust. Hannah was so thrilled with the notion that the next morning she served Willow breakfast in bed.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Hannah exclaimed as she balanced the heavy tray in one hand and closed the guest bedroom door behind her. “Did you sleep well in here?”
“Yeah,” Willow answered groggily as she sat up and held the sheets and blankets to her chest. The morning spread was just as elaborate as it
was colorful, but it was the cloth napkin that really caught her attention. “Is that a giraffe?”
Hannah giggled. “It was supposed to a gazelle.”
“Yeah, I totally see that now.”
“Well, if you don’t have any plans for day, I am going to the farmer’s market to find some seedlings. I want to go totally organic,” Hannah exclaimed triumphantly. On her way out the door, Hannah turned back around and said, “Oh, by the way, I washed and dried your clothes. They are on top of the dresser. Maybe later we could go to your apartment and you could pick up whatever you need.”
Over the next few weeks, the stress of the situation eventually caught up with Willow. She tried to keep on her happy face, but this new version of Hannah was just too much to take. She would have been any man’s dream wife—she cooked, cleaned, ironed, and washed, and that was all before noon. Hannah was consumed with a boundless sort of energy and fluttered around the house, moving on from one project to the next.
Willow began to wonder if she ever slept at all. She wouldn’t know as she had been stashed away in one of the guest bedrooms and was exhausted by nine o’clock in the evening by just watching her. Or perhaps, the exhaustion was just a symptom?
Ever since they returned from Sedona, Willow felt as if her life was a vacuum. There were a great many things that she needed to do—most importantly get a job and find a new place to live. Yet, the thought of doing either of those things filled her with a panicky sorrow because she knew they would take her further away from Hannah.
Whenever Hannah announced her latest home-improvement idea or fixed one of her gourmet-to-die-for dinners, Willow couldn’t hear what was being said or see what was placed before her. Her mind screamed repeatedly, It’s over! It’s over! And this was all she had left. This was her new reality.
One evening, after they finished eating dinner, Willow was about to make an excuse to go to bed, even though it was still early because she couldn’t stand any more. Hannah must have sensed it because she reached out and stroked her hair. “Willow, what’s wrong?” she asked sweetly.
Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens) Page 15
