CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jill
Monday
By the time they filled out the admitting papers and checked in on Ruby, it was four o’clock in the morning. With stiff legs and heads hung, they walked to the parking lot.
“I’ll need a ride,” Jill said to Jocelyn. “I came in the ambulance.”
Jocelyn shook her head. “I got dropped off.”
Keith stepped forward. “I’ll take you home. I’m not the least bit tired. A drive sounds good.”
It was a quiet car ride and Jill couldn’t help but be further tumbled by the gloom of black skies.
Jocelyn finally broke the silence. “Is that the sun coming up?” she asked in a croaky voice.
Jill looked to the east. There was nothing but pitch. “Not yet.”
“Shit,” Jocelyn said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m seeing lights.”
“What?”
“Refracted lights. It’s the first sign.”
“Oh, no, Jocelyn.” Jill knew Jocelyn still suffered from migraines, sometimes lasting days at a time. “Do you have anything with you?”
“Just get me to my room,” Jocelyn said, her voice shaky. “I’ve always got something with me.”
Jill helped a hobbling Jocelyn from the car and up the flagstone steps to the house. Jocelyn was wearing sunglasses and holding her temples in a viselike grip. “Do me a favor,” Jocelyn said. “Tell Victor I’m sorry, but I’ll have to cancel.”
“Victor?”
“Yes. Victor.”
“Cancel what?”
“Our date.”
Jill stopped, forcing Jocelyn to do the same. “My guest Victor?”
“The very same.”
“You’ve been seeing Victor? Since when?” Jill started moving again, ushering Jocelyn through the front door.
“Since Friday night. After I drove Keith home.” Jocelyn’s voice was still weak, but there was some slight perk to it.
“And what have you been doing?”
“Riding his motorcycle.” Jocelyn managed a small laugh. “And riding him.”
“I thought—”
“You thought I was with Keith.” Jocelyn stumbled. The next spasm of pain brought her to her knees.
“Let’s just get you to your room,” Jill said, weaving her arm under Jocelyn’s. After Jill watched Jocelyn down three pink tablets and a glass of water and curl into a fetal ball, she returned to the kitchen. She found Keith and Fee sitting at the table in silence.
“How’s Jocelyn?” he asked.
“Not good, but she took some pills.” Jill stood with her arms crossed and back propped up against the marble countertop. If Jocelyn had been with Victor since Friday night, then she’d mistakenly thought that Keith . . . It was too much to think about at the moment. “Looks like we’re in for a rough morning, Fee. It’s Monday, Borka and Magda’s day off.”
Fee groaned. “Can’t you call them? I’m exhausted.”
“No. I can’t call them. We’ll just have to manage.”
“I’ll help,” Keith said.
“No. Really. We’ll be fine.”
“Let me help,” Keith said. “I couldn’t sleep if I tried.”
“It’s very kind of you, but you’ve done more than enough already.”
“Look.” Keith stood and Jill was struck by how he filled the room. “You’ve got an appointment with the neurologist at eleven, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll want to visit your mom before that.”
“Yes. I suppose.”
“What time are your breakfast hours?”
“Seven to nine.”
“And what are you serving?”
“Mondays are muffins, coffee cakes, and sliced fruits.”
“And guest rooms to clean?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Keith gestured about the kitchen. “Then I suggest we get baking.”
Fee stifled a laugh.
Keith looked at her with an amused expression. “What? You don’t think a guy can bake?”
“You don’t look the type,” Fee said.
He spied an apron hanging on the back of the pantry door. It was peachy orange with a ruffled edge. He looped the top over his thick neck and tied the strings with three efficient tugs. “Pies are my specialty, but I can do muffins.”
A Niagara’s worth of mixed feelings pounded at Jill. She wasn’t used to being contradicted. She said no, yet he persisted. Nonetheless, with so many responsibilities, his assistance was a welcome relief. And Jocelyn had been with Victor Friday night and all day Saturday, riding his motorcycle, riding him. “Okay. Fine.” She corrected the tone. “And thank you. Really. Thank you.”
He nodded once. “What kind of muffins?”
She pointed to the fridge. “There are fresh blueberries and raspberries in the bottom drawer. Let me get you a recipe.”
“No need.”
“You don’t need a recipe?”
“You forget, I’ve been working in restaurants for the past fifteen years.”
She opened her hands in a gesture of deference. “You’ll find everything else, including the muffin tins, in the pantry or fridge.” She turned to Fee. “Honey, how about you set up the dining room. I’ll do the rest.”
It was wonderful the way they fell into a rhythm. He seemed to move instinctively from one area to the next, just as she thought he might get underfoot. He whistled to himself and tugged at his sunny apron tidily, a Gomer Pyle does June Cleaver moment. A small laugh escaped her lips and he smiled so sheepishly, she momentarily forgot the weight of the day.
Once breakfast was well in hand, she left Fee to serve the few guests. Keith followed her to the large supply closet on the second floor.
“Are you sure you still want to help?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
She pulled a small rolling cart stocked with linens and cleaning supplies into the hallway. “Can you make a good bed?”
“I can make it in a good bed.”
She ignored him and rolled the cart toward the first room on the left. “How are you at toilets?”
“I’m better with beds.”
She opened the door with a key that hung from the cart and held up a spray bottle of cleaner and a toilet scrubber. “I think I’ll start you with toilets.”
He took them from her, his hand lingering momentarily and then his pinkie hooked with hers as the spray bottle exchanged hands. A jolt traveled from her shoulders to the arches of her feet, which she was sure he witnessed.
“As long as there’s a chance of promotion.” He stood dangerously close and his smell, familiar and heady, fell over her.
Emotions, past and present, choked her, and she had to turn and busy herself with the cart until she felt able to breathe again. “Promotion?” She lifted a stack of towels and faced him. “And just what exactly are you looking for in the way of promotion?”
“This has been such a hectic couple of days.” The air between them was warm, a microclimate of tropic heat. “First my aunt and now your mom. I’m hoping we can get past all this craziness, and to some degree of normalcy where we can spend time together. Get to know each other again. And ignore all the reasons why we shouldn’t.”
“I would like that.”
“So would I.” He smiled and touched her cheek, a gesture so crushingly sweet her whole face ached.
He sucked at both toilets and beds, yet by nine they’d readied the guest rooms and she had even managed fifteen minutes for a shower and change of clothes. It would be an air-dry hair day, which, with humidity, was dicier than a Vegas craps game. They agreed Fee would stay at the inn and be on call for the guests and Jocelyn.
Jill thanked Keith for his help and thought, by his downcast eyes, he was sorry to be dismissed. They walked out the back door together and she felt a pang of regret watching his slouched gait trail away. He had offered to accompany her to the hospital, but she dismissed the idea, insisting he had already gone above and beyond. As much as she’d admit he’d been essential these last eighteen hours, a doctor’s appointment to discuss Ruby’s condition was a family matter. She promised to call him with an update.
Ruby was asleep when Jill entered the hospital room. There was a nurse at her bedside checking monitors.
“How’s my mom?” Jill asked.
“Exhausted. She’s hardly moved.”
Jill looked at her father’s antique watch. “My appointment with the doctor is in twenty minutes. I’m going to have to leave her for a while.”
“Honey, she won’t know a thing. And don’t worry. We’ll call you if anything happens.”
Jill listened intently as the neurologist rattled his way through a litany of terms and procedures. She’d brought a notebook and pencil, but still had a hard time keeping up. She managed to scribble down a few important details. A battery of tests had ruled out the tumor as secondary, or metastasized from another area of the body. The first step would be a biopsy, which required drilling a small burr hole into the skull and using a needle to remove a tiny sample of the tumor. Those cells would be examined under a microscope to determine the type of cancer, and whether it was benign or malignant. He was referring her to a highly respected neurosurgeon, who would likely want to move things along at an accelerated rate, given the size of the mass.
“Is it that large?” Jill asked.
The doctor motioned to the MRI on the light board. “Yes. And by all indications obstructing the flow of cerebrospinal fluid, which is in turn damaging vital neurological pathways and compressing the brain tissue.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“I must be honest with you. We are dealing with a very large mass, which is extremely dangerous, even if it is benign. My guess is your mother didn’t simply trip and cut her head; I would guess she lost consciousness.”
“When can I see the surgeon?”
“We took the liberty of contacting his office. He just happens to be in the office this morning and in the OR this afternoon. He could fit you in for an appointment, and squeeze your mother onto the operating schedule for a biopsy as his last procedure of the day.”
Jill pulled her right hand over her mouth. “Is it that urgent?”
The doctor nodded. “In my opinion it is.”
Jill met with the neurosurgeon, Dr. O’Connor, who was very kind, but extremely rushed for time. Today’s biopsy would be a preliminary step, from which all treatment would be determined. Dr. O’Connor had already moved Ruby onto Friday’s operating schedule, in case it was determined that the best course of action was removal of the tumor. Jill left his office with more questions than answers.
When she returned to Ruby’s hospital room, she felt like Rip Van Winkle awakening to an altered world. A small forest had taken root in her absence. There were blooming pots of lilies and tulips, towering sunflowers, fat vases of roses, and bursts of yellow daisies, pink carnations, and red poppies.
Ruby stirred when Jill approached her bedside.
“Where did all these flowers come from?” Jill asked, searching the closest bouquet for a card.
“William was here,” Ruby said in a feeble voice.
It didn’t seem the time to argue. “How nice. Are these all from him?”
“Yes. He wants to take care of me. He’s always been sweet on me, you know.”
“When was he here?”
“He just left.” Ruby rolled onto her side. Her eyes fluttered and then closed.
Jill stepped into the hallway and looked up and down the corridor. There was no sign of Keith, or William for that matter. She walked over to the nurses’ station.
“Did my mom have a visitor?”
The nurse looked up from a thick stack of papers and gestured with her head to a waiting room. “He’s in there.”
The room was small and sparsely furnished. A wall-mounted television droned cartoons. Keith sat distractedly rubbing his cheek.
“Keith, what are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t stand waiting around in that hotel room. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. I mean, thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful, but too much.”
“I couldn’t decide, so I got a variety.” Again, he massaged his jaw.
“Are you all right?”
“A little toothache. No big deal.” He dropped his hand. “Tell me about your mom.”
Jill told Keith about the biopsy and possibility of surgery on Friday. He listened and asked a few sensible questions. Jill was relieved to have a sturdy net for the burdens she unfurled. She knew stress often triggered Jocelyn’s migraines, but was still annoyed by her abdication. And her whole life had been spent protecting Fee. It wouldn’t have seemed natural to turn to her for support.
Keith stuttered the start to an obviously difficult topic. “I’m sorry. I think I confused your mom. She thinks I’m my father.”
“I know. She told me.”
“I hope I didn’t upset her. She said something strange.” Keith’s eyes darted back and forth. “She said she was looking for me, my father I guess, out in the woods.”
“I want to talk to you about that.”
“About what?”
“That winter when you and your dad came to town, the winter we met.” Jill bit her bottom lip. “Do you think my mom and your dad could have rekindled their relationship?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“My mom mentioned the fireplace in the old hunting lodge. She said she and William needed a fire because it was so cold that winter.” Jill avoided his eyes. “When they dated, the first time, it was summer.”
“The first time?”
“I know it’s shocking.” Jill rolled her shoulders. “Fee is living proof of my mother’s infidelity, so there had to be a partner. I just don’t think she was in the frame of mind for a random affair. It would make more sense that it was someone she knew and trusted. Some of my mom’s recent comments make me think that your dad was . . .”
“Was what?”
“Fee’s father. Do you think . . . ?”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No. What my mom said to me was very strange.”
“Because she was delirious.”
“But she was so specific. As if she were reliving something.”
“Come on, Jill. She was out of it. It’s hardly credible information.”
“He was in town that winter. And they did have a history.”
Keith raked a hand across a day’s growth of stubble. “It’s crazy. That would make Fee my . . . And you my . . . I don’t even want to go there.”
“It wouldn’t change anything between us, bloodwise anyway.”
“Wouldn’t change anything? It would change everything.”
“I’m just trying to say—”
The nurse popped her head into the small waiting room. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s your mother. She’s awake and upset. We could use your help calming her down.”
Before following the nurse into the hallway, Jill glanced back at Keith. He hadn’t moved and there was a faraway look on his face. His attention was elsewhere and she knew from long experience he was closing himself off. Her disclosure had, as he had predicted, changed everything.