by JB Lynn
She didn’t respond.
Picking up a corner of the blanket, I fingered the yarn. “Wow, this is soft.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, I picked up her hand. “You know, when I was in kindergarten, we had nap time. We each had little blankets that we kept in our cubbyholes in the classroom and when it was time to nap, we’d take them out, put them on the floor, and lie down.” I smiled at the memory, something I hadn’t thought about in years. “Most of the kids had beach towels to lie on, and a couple had store-bought blankets, but I was the only one, in the whole class, who had a blanket someone had made just for them. Guess who made me my blanket.”
She didn’t respond, but she hadn’t taken her eyes off my face while I’d told the story.
“Aunt Susan. And do you know what she told me about that blanket?”
I waited for a second as though I expected her to answer.
“She told me it was made with love, and that no matter where I went or what I did, her love would always be wrapped around me.” Tears welled in my eyes and my throat constricted painfully. “And now you have a blanket made with love too. So no matter where you go, or what you do, you’ll always have love wrapped around you.”
I dashed away wayward tears with the back of my hand.
“And not just Susan’s love, but mine too. I love you more than all the blankets in the world! You know that, don’t you?”
I stared at her, willing her to respond, but I got nothing.
I closed my eyes, telling myself that her open eyes were enough. But they weren’t. I wanted more. I needed to know that the little girl I loved was still there, inside her shell of a body.
Thankfully a nurse came in at that moment, so I had the excuse to get up and walk away.
“It looks like the little boy next door is waking up too,” the nurse told Katie. “Isn’t that wonderful news?”
It was. It meant there was a chance Delveccio wouldn’t kill me for not taking care of Garcia.
A chance.
NOT LONG AFTERWARD I was kicked out by the same nurse, who said that Katie needed her rest.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Baby Girl,” I promised, waving good-bye.
She didn’t wave back.
Remembering that I’d promised my aunts that I’d stop by for dinner, I hurried over to the B&B. No one was on the front porch waiting for me, but I heard voices coming from the back of the house, so I walked to the rear, dimly aware I was retracing the same steps I’d taken when Frank had attacked.
The scene in the backyard was no less shocking when I rounded the corner this time.
The top of the barn was gone. Building equipment and supplies covered the manicured lawn.
Aunt Leslie, talking to a woman in her late fifties who wore a yellow business suit, noticed me first. “Maggie! We were just talking about you.” She waved me over.
I approached cautiously; leery she’d been telling the stranger that her niece was perpetually tardy. Maybe the woman was her NA sponsor and would tell her to cultivate a nonjudgmental attitude.
“Maggie, this is Elaine,” Leslie introduced. “Elaine, this is my niece Maggie.”
Automatically I extended my hand. “Nice to meet you, Elaine.”
“Please call me Lani.” The woman smiled warmly at me. Something about her was familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.
I nodded politely. “What’s going on here?” I waved at the demolition that had been done to the barn.
“The construction. Susan told you it was being done, didn’t she?”
My chest tightened. Thinking about moving home was one thing. Knowing it was going to happen was another. I’d lose my privacy. I’d lose my dog.
“There’s our girl!” Templeton crowed from behind me.
I turned to see him and Aunt Loretta, who teetered precariously, her stilettos sinking deeper into the grass with every step, coming toward us. Part of me wanted to tell him that I’d never be his “girl,” but then I remembered that he’d been the one to throw me a lifeline at Alice’s rehearsal dinner when she’d been intent on making me look like the world’s biggest jerk.
I air kissed with Loretta and nodded at Templeton. He beamed back.
“I don’t think Alice told her,” Leslie whispered dramatically to her twin.
Loretta’s Poison Kissed lips formed a surprised O.
“Told me what?” I asked suspiciously. It’s never a good sign when people talk about you like you’re not standing right in front of him.
“She’s inside,” Loretta said quickly. “She should really be the one to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” This time I raised my voice, panicked by what kind of crazy scheme my hormonally imbalanced best friend had come up with.
“There she is,” Leslie said soothingly. “She can tell you herself.”
Alice, Lamont, Aunt Susan, and her date from the wedding, Bob, walked toward us.
“I’m afraid I let the cat out of the bag,” Leslie said apologetically to Alice. “I’d assumed she already knew.”
“Knew what?” I asked through clenched teeth, prepared to shoot down whatever idiotic plan Alice had set into motion.
“I wanted to help,” Alice began.
“We wanted to help,” Lamont corrected.
“God help me,” I muttered.
But he wasn’t there.
Chapter Thirty-One
“RELAX, MARGARET,” AUNT Susan said mildly. “You’re letting your imagination get the best of you.”
I observed her expression carefully. If the sanest of the bunch wasn’t looking like the sky was about to fall, maybe I was overreacting a tad.
Taking a steadying breath, I switched my attention back to Alice. “What’s going on?”
She glanced up at her husband. “It was Lamont’s idea. He should be the one to tell you.”
I looked up at the mountain of a man, doing my best not to tap my foot impatiently.
Lamont cleared his throat. “So from the moment Alice and I met, she’s been telling me all of the wonderful things your family has done for her over the years. Then we showed up, out of the blue, and you gave us a place to stay and put up with our rushed wedding. I got to see firsthand how kind you all are. Crazy,” he said with a smile, “but kind.”
Alice stared up at her husband adoringly, nodding her head in confirmation of everything he said.
“So, when the girls . . .” He waved his arm to encompass my aunts.
Loretta giggled, Leslie beamed, Susan rolled her eyes.
“When the girls started talking about the construction and how important it was to keep your family together, I came up with the idea.”
“We asked the wedding guests to contribute to the construction fund instead of giving us gifts!” Alice blurted out.
I rocked back on my heels, stunned by their generosity. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say thank you,” Susan prompted.
“ ‘Thank you’ seems so inadequate.”
Alice hugged me tightly. “We were happy to do it.”
“And Bob’s doing the job for you for cost,” Lamont added charitably.
Overwhelmed by everyone’s kindness, I looked from one to the next, speechless.
“We’re not going to lose Katie too,” Aunt Susan said determinedly.
“Group hug!” Leslie called.
Everyone, even Bob and Lani, joined in. I’d never felt more wrapped in love.
“Tell her about the dog run,” Bob boomed from the outskirts of the group hug.
The group broke apart as Susan ushered me to the edge of the construction site. “Bob says we can put a dog run for DeeDee right here.”
I looked sideways at my normally uptight aunt. “You hate dogs.”
“How can I hate her? She saved my life. If you’re moving back, she’s got to come too. She’s family.”
The vise around my chest loosened knowing I wouldn’t have to give up DeeDee. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”
“Your aunt’s a pretty nice lady.” Bob came up from behind her and squeezed her shoulders. She leaned into him.
“Thank you.” I gestured toward the demolition. “For all of this.”
“My pleasure, young lady. My pleasure. Have you met my sister yet?”
“Your sister?”
“Lani! Get you scrawny butt over here!” Bob bellowed.
“Oh, we’ve met,” I said, realizing why her smile had seemed familiar. There was no missing the resemblance between the siblings. “Leslie didn’t tell me she was your sister.”
Lani joined us. “Leslie says dinner is almost ready.”
“You should hire this woman to be a real estate agent,” Bob said, thunking me between the shoulder blades. “I bet she’d be a natural.”
“We’re going to help Leslie get dinner on the table.” Susan led Bob away.
I smiled, liking the way he offered her his arm so that she wouldn’t stumble on the uneven footing. I wasn’t surprised she refused the support.
“Do you have any experience?” Lani asked.
“What?”
“Any experience in real estate.”
“None. I wasn’t—”
“Neither did I when I started.”
“I wasn’t looking for a job. I mean, it was very nice of your brother, but . . .”
“What do you do now, Maggie?”
“I take automobile insurance claims.”
“Do you like it?”
I laughed.
She smiled and handed me a business card. “Give me a call and we’ll talk about the possibility of you coming to work for me. Maybe a mixture of office work and sales until you get some experience and clients under your belt.”
“But I don’t have any experience.” And I really wasn’t sure I was cut out to sell houses any more than I was to answer a phone all day.
“As I said, neither did I when I got into this business. I was a single mom with a special needs child. The flexibility the job offered was my salvation. You’re in the same boat. I’ve heard all about how you’re stepping up for your niece. That makes you the kind of quality person I want to hire. Think about it and call me.”
I WAS EXCITED to tell God about the job offer when I got home, but he was still sleeping.
“Did he do that all day?” I asked DeeDee as I took her on a nice long walk.
“Day all.”
“Did he complain that he was in pain or anything?”
“No.”
“Did he say what was wrong?”
“Tired God.”
“Maybe I should take him to a vet. Do vets even treat lizards?”
DeeDee didn’t reply, she just sniffed and sniffed. And sniffed. And sniffed a nondescript clump of grass.
On the way back we stopped to get the mail.
In addition to my monthly running magazine (a gift from Alice, who thought I should take it up to reduce my stress), the mailbox contained an overnighted envelope.
“Probably more bad news,” I muttered, carrying it inside.
“DeeDee eat? Go away make,” the dog offered, licking the envelope tentatively.
I rubbed her head affectionately. “Thanks, sweetie, but I don’t think that will help.”
Not wanting to disturb the sleeping lizard, we went into the bedroom. I considered not opening the envelope, but ignoring bad news never made it go away.
I changed for bed, crawled under the covers, and let DeeDee get comfortable beside me, before I opened it.
A single postcard fell out.
There was a photograph of a large cactus in the desert and the words “Vegas: Wish You Were Here.” Flipping it over, I saw that the back was blank.
“Patrick sent me a cactus,” I told DeeDee.
She yawned sleepily.
Armani’s predictions about a disco ball and a cactus had come about, but I still didn’t understand what the cactus meant.
The next morning before I went to work, I asked God if he had any theories about it, but all he grumbled was “Let me sleep.”
“You’re officially scaring the shit out of me,” I told him.
He ignored me.
I laid my cheek on the kitchen table so that I could be eye level with him where he lay in his terrarium. “You can’t die on me.” Getting choked up and teary-eyed, I begged, “Please don’t die.”
“No die,” DeeDee whined worriedly.
“I can’t take it,” I told the little guy. “If I lose you too . . .” I gave up trying not to cry and allowed myself a good sob fest.
“Relax,” God soothed, rousing himself to press his tiny foot against the glass. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”
I touched the glass by his foot, as I’d seen many people do with their imprisoned loved ones when I visited my father. I found it oddly comforting.
“I just need to rest,” the lizard assured me. “I’ll be fine.”
With that promise, I went to do my time at Insuring the Future. During lunch, after she’d made me pull seven more Scrabble tiles, I told Armani about the job offer.
She considered the tiles before commenting on the employment revelation. “It might not be a bad idea.”
I stared at her, shocked. “I thought for sure you’d try to talk me out of it.”
She shrugged and looked away.
“What?” I asked suspiciously. “Did the tiles tell you something?”
“Chooooo.”
“Bless you,” I said reflexively, despite the fact she hadn’t sneezed.
“Does ‘choo’ mean anything to you?”
“To grind food with one’s teeth?”
She laid out the tiles for me to see. CHOOOOO
“How do you know it doesn’t mean OOOOOCH?” I asked. “Or see who?”
“Hello, ladies,” Harry interrupted, staying a respectful distance away from our table. “I just wanted to remind you that we’ve got a meeting this afternoon. I look forward to seeing you both there.”
Armani rolled her eyes as he strode away. “There’s another reason to consider the job offer.”
“So you really think I should do it?”
She nodded.
“Because of Harry and CHOOOOO?”
My cell phone rang before she could answer. “It’s the lawyer’s office,” I said, glancing at the caller ID displayed.
Armani, despite her Scrabble tiles and crazy predictions, was a good friend. She grabbed my hand and squeezed supportively. “Whatever she says, you’ll get through it.”
She watched me carefully while I spoke with the lawyer, concern shadowing her gaze as my voice cracked and I trembled. She tightened her grip on my hand, imbuing me with her strength.
“What is it?” she asked, the moment I disconnected the call. “Bad news?”
“She gave up.”
“Seriously?” Armani gasped, outraged. “How could she?”
I shrugged.
“But you paid her, right?”
“No. The lawyer didn’t give up. Abilene did. She dropped her petition for custody.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.”
I ALSO DIDN’T care if Delveccio saw me when I walked into the hospital that evening. I just strolled in, waving at the nurses, joking with an orderly.
“Boss says to tell you he wants to buy ya a pudding,” muscle-bound Vinnie said, just as I was about to walk into Katie’s room.
“Tell him I’ll meet him in the cafeteria in thirty minutes.” I fixed Vinnie with a hard look, daring him to challenge me about keeping the mob boss happy.
He looked like he wanted to argue, but all he said was “I’ll let him know.”
I walked into Katie’s room with a big smile on my face. “Hey there, Baby Girl.”
Katie had been watching television, but she switched her attention to me. I could have sworn she gave me the slightest smile in return, but then thought it was wishful thinking on my part.
I sat in the visitor’s chai
r and picked up her limp hand to hold in mine as she returned her gaze to the screen. “Whatchya watchin’?”
She didn’t answer. Not that she needed to. A glance at the TV told me she was watching a cartoon about a dog in a haunted house.
“I got a dog,” I told her. “Her name is DeeDee. She and Godzilla are friends. I think you’d like her.”
That got no response either.
The cartoon dog was chased first by a ghost and then by a giant spider.
“The itsy bitsy spider went up . . .” I started to sing.
Katie looked back at me, something like recognition flickering in the depths of her blue eyes.
“ . . . the water spout,” I continued, not even daring to hope. “Down came the rain and washed . . .”
She moved her hand.
I looked down at her tiny little fingers.
“ . . . washed the spider out.” I’d stopped breathing and barely had enough air to get the words out.
Slowly, stiffly, her pudgy fingers started to perform the pantomime that went along with the song.
I joined her in making the motions. “Up came the sun and dried up all the rain.”
She smiled at me, actually smiled at me, as she matched my movements.
“And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again,” I sang weakly.
I waited to see what she’d do next. My heart almost burst when she tapped my hand twice, our “secret” signal to do it again.
“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout, down came the rain,” I sang through my tears. “And washed the spider out.”
“Oh my God!” Aunt Susan exclaimed from behind me.
I twisted around, to see her standing a few feet away, wringing her hands.
“She’s doing it,” she whispered in awe.
Katie waved at her.
LEAVING KATIE WITH a gushing Aunt Susan, I went in search of my favorite mob boss. He waved me over the moment I entered the cafeteria. Vinnie was nowhere in sight.
“I heard that your grandson is doing better,” I said as a way of greeting, determined to start the conversation off on a positive note.
Delveccio beamed, his smile brighter than his pinky ring for once. “It’s a miracle!”
I nodded, knowing the feeling.
Vinnie appeared with two puddings, two spoons and two napkins. “Anything else, boss?”
