CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Jill
Saturday
“Why did you let me sleep so long?” The events of the past twenty-four hours buzzed about Jill’s wet head like a bothersome gnat.
“Because you needed it.” Keith closed a magazine and replaced it on the coffee table. “You showered. Good.”
“I was filthy. Caked in blood and dirt.” A bandage covered her left kneecap.
“I cleaned you up a little bit, but figured the rest could wait.”
“But it’s five o’clock. I’ve missed the whole day.” She pulled her hands to the sides of her cheeks. “My mom. What’s going on with my mom?”
“She’s fine. Still in intensive care, but doing better.”
“But I should have been there.” Jill’s voice was panicked.
“Jocelyn’s there. And Fee’s been back and forth.”
“You’ve spoken to them?”
He nodded his head.
“About us?”
He patted the spot on the couch next to him. Jill took a deep breath and shuffled across the room. Had he really come to find her? Had he really held her and said he loved her, had always loved her? She eased herself onto the sofa. He pulled her hand into his lap. The cotton of his faded Levi’s was warm and smooth.
“Jocelyn said we belong together because there’re no two bigger blockheads on earth.” Keith rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb.
“She’s said worse.”
“I censored that a bit,” he said. “Suffice it to say, she’s certain we were made for each other.”
“And Fee?”
“She was kind of quiet. I think she was mostly relieved you were okay.”
Jill dropped her head into her hand. “I can’t believe I took off like that. It was really stupid.”
Keith swung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into the crook of his underarm. “What it lacked in subtlety, it made up for in efficiency.”
“What did?”
“Your request for help.”
“How pathetic.”
He rested his chin on her wet hair. “Not at all. Somewhat brilliant, if you really think about it. You got Jocelyn taking care of things. You’ve given your daughter the truth, which she deserved. And you got me so worried for a few minutes there”—he thumped his chest—“that I remembered there’s still a vital organ in here.” He kissed the top of her head.
“When you put it that way.” Jill turned his wrist to read his watch. “I should get to the hospital.”
“Visiting hours are almost over for the day,” he said. “Plus, Jocelyn’s got it covered. She said to take the day off and rest up.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Technically, I think she said something more along the lines of ‘Tell Joyride Jill to cool her engines for a while.’ ”
“That sounds more like her.”
“And that’s the part I feel comfortable repeating.”
“I couldn’t sit around here, anyway.” Jill stood.
“Before you go, then,” Keith said. “There’s someone waiting to talk to you. Fee’s in her room.”
Jill knocked on Fee’s door. There was no answer. She opened it a crack and spied Fee lying on the bed, listening to her iPod.
“May I come in?” Jill asked.
Fee removed the earbuds, but didn’t reply.
“I’d like to apologize,” Jill said. “It was stupid of me to run off like that.”
Fee shrugged. It wasn’t much of an invitation, but Jill took the few steps into the room and seated herself on the edge of the mattress. “I caused everyone a lot of worry at a time when we should be focusing on Booboo.”
“You mean my mom?”
“I’m your mom,” Jill said. “I’m not done apologizing either. I’m sorry to have kept this from you. I shouldn’t have; you deserved the truth. Maybe not as a girl, but certainly as a teen. I want you to know, though, that none of this was done to hurt or deceive you. You should know that Booboo loves you. I do, too.”
Fee steepled her legs, her arms clamped over them, and her head dropped forward. “So what happens now? What do I say to Booboo?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. Nothing for now, I think. We have to focus on getting her stronger. I wouldn’t want to upset her. And even before you, her way of protecting herself was to rewrite certain pieces of history—the difficult ones. There never was a boyfriend named Josh. Booboo was abused, probably by her own uncle.”
Fee gasped.
“I know,” Jill said. “This home is the proverbial house of cards. And it probably goes even further back. No one would say what happened to your great-aunt Rose, in whose honor the home was founded.” Jill ran her fingers through her still-wet hair. “And here’s the thing. There’s more to this whole saga.”
“What now?” Fee asked.
“I never knew who your father was. Booboo would never say and I guess I didn’t want to know.”
“And?”
“She was incoherent when I found her in the woods. It triggered something and she spoke of him, of your father.”
“And?”
“I suspect it was William Fraser, Keith’s father.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Fee said.
“Keith never knew. Sounds like William never did either.”
“So that makes Keith my—”
“Half brother.”
“And the dead lady my—”
“Aunt.”
“This settles it.” Fee pulled her knees to her chest. “We’re freaks and con artists. And I hate to say it, but I’m right in there with you all.”
“What? Why?”
“I made up a story about my dad. To shut Marjory up about him being a deadbeat.”
“You did?”
“Yep.”
“Was it a good one?”
“No. It was stupid.”
Jill was quiet for many moments. “Your birthright, I suppose.” She exhaled, jutting her bottom lip forward. “What a mess. And I’ve had my hand in it. There’s more.”
Fee’s head popped up. “There’s more?”
“I’m having some financial problems. I owe the bank more than I can pay. I’ve even had a real-estate agent appraise the place, just in case. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but you should know that it’s bad. And I’m scared.”
“Oh.” Fee quietly bobbed her head up and down. “That is something I should know.”
“At least I’ve learned my lesson,” Jill said. “No more secrets.” She stood and straightened the crimp in Fee’s comforter. “I’m going to the hospital. You want to come?”
“I can’t. I’m getting picked up soon for that soccer party. It’s okay if I go, right?”
“Yes. Of course. You should. Have fun.”
“Tell Booboo I love her.”
“I will.”
“And, for the record, I love you back.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to hear.”
Smiling, Jill closed the door to Fee’s room. Theirs wasn’t a family that said it often. After everything Fee had been through in the past few days, Jill was touched by her willingness to forgive. They’d obviously done something right.