Rhett laughed. “Just joking. We didn’t actually talk about the caterers.”
Jules shut her eyes with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. Really. I knew it’d be tough to face them. It always is. But bringing you into the melee probably wasn’t fair.”
He gestured toward the house with his thumb. “Is that your father?”
Jules groaned. “No, stepfather. My mother climbed the husband corporate ladder till she snagged a bank president. He’s Mr. Personality, isn’t he?”
“He could be worse, I guess. At least he hasn’t asked any questions.”
She shrugged. “I suppose. He hasn’t said ten words to me my entire life. My real father couldn’t come. He drives a truck, and he lives with his girlfriend in Florida. Dad was Mom’s second husband.”
“I see. And Liza?”
“She’s my half-sister. Her dad was Mom’s first husband.”
Rhett grunted. “Good times, huh?”
Jules rubbed her face. “Not even. You know, if they could only be slightly comforting, I could put up with the rest.”
He leaned against the tree and seemed to rethink the decision as the trunk bowed. “How old were you when your folks split?”
Jules took a deep breath. “Fourteen. I always promised myself I’d have a better relationship with my own daughter.”
He nodded. “And you do.”
With a tremulous smile, she agreed. “Yes. God blessed me with a wonderful relationship with Hannah.”
She ran her hands up and down her upper arms. “I guess I’d better put in a re-appearance. Hannah’s here now, so hopefully that will diffuse some of the nosy questions.”
He turned and walked beside her to the house. They went in and eased into the dining/living area. Hannah and Jason were nowhere to be seen. Jules sat on a dining room chair opposite her mother.
Iva rattled her fingernails on the table. “Hannah needs to purchase a better home. The screen’s torn on the front door.”
“I thought her husband had a good job. What’s he do, Jules?” Liza asked.
Irritation snaked through Jules. The sound of the back bedroom door saved her from answering.
Hannah and Jason entered with a car seat and diaper bag. Hannah’s first glance landed on Jules. An apology lit her eyes, as well as a plea for understanding. Jules averted her gaze, careful to convey nothing. The room filled with hushed greetings and hugs. Jules rose, tears pricking, and embraced Hannah. The never-ending supply of tears. Hannah shifted to her grandmother and aunt, while Jules moved to hug Jason who still held the car seat.
“Look at that sweet face.” Liza cooed at the reclining baby. “Here let me take her.”
“We missed you, Mom,” Hannah said as she laid her bundles on the dining room table.
Jules’s throat squeezed. “I know. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t.”
Hannah pulled a tight smile and patted her protruding belly. “It’s okay.”
“Well the food tasted good, for a church carry-in,” Liza observed, patting and bouncing the baby.
“At least passable,” Iva chimed in, “for a tragic affair.”
Liza settled on the couch and set the child in her lap. “Hannah, your baby sister resembles you when you were a baby.”
The room swam around Jules’ ears, and she excused herself to hurry to the bathroom. After shutting the door firmly, she settled on the side of the tub, her mind whirling. Hannah and Jason had kept baby Jillian throughout the funeral and still had her. Did that mean…oh, heavens. Were they going to keep her? She took small gasps of breaths. This child would become a grandchild of sorts to her? Oh, glory, oh, glory. She stood up and paced the enclosed room, laying her hand against her heart. It pounded like jackhammer.
Dear God. Surely not. It wouldn’t work. It just wouldn’t. She licked her dry lips, her breathing labored as she pivoted and walked. This baby, this love child between her ex and a colleague was to become Hannah’s first offspring? No, this couldn’t happen. God wouldn’t allow it. Would He? Not after everything that had already transpired.
The vision of a small babe crying without anyone haunted her. It wasn’t poor Jillian’s fault this had happened. Oh, but I beg you, Lord, let someone else take the child. Not Hannah. Please not Hannah.
A knock sounded at the door and Jules stiffened. How long had she been in here? She cleared her throat and tried to sound normal.
“Yes?”
“Mom? May I come in?” Hannah spoke in soft tones.
Oh, gracious. In. To talk. Reluctantly, Jules turned the lock and stood face to face with Hannah.
Her daughter entered and wiped her hands across her cheeks before turning to confront her mother.
“I’m sure you’re wondering about Jillian.” She searched her mother’s features, no doubt to gauge a reaction. Jules stayed stoic, blocking Hannah from distinguishing her true feelings. But her daughter knew her too well. “We’ve been keeping her while they…”
Hannah’s head bowed. When she glanced up, tears glistened in her eyes. “Mom, we want to adopt Jillian.”
Jules stood like a stone. A rock formation. Had her heart stopped? Had her mind flatlined? Strangely enough, it hadn’t been too long ago she’d experienced very similar emotions. The day Darrell had told her he wanted a divorce. She tried to swallow, but a huge blockage impeded the muscle spasm. Had she blinked? Drawn a breath? She couldn’t remember.
“Mom?” Hannah prompted with a tilt of her head. “Did you hear me?”
Jules managed a nod.
“I understand this’ll be hard on you. Jason and I’ve been talking round and round about it for days. And we keep coming back to the same decision. She’s my sister. I’m the closest family she has. Amanda’s mom is gone as”—she at least had the decency to pause here—“you know.”
She took a step toward her mother. “It’s the right thing to do.”
The immensity of the request made it sooo hard to breathe. Jules’ throat ached with unshed tears and bitterness. And what hurt the most was knowing Hannah was spot-on. Jules knew Amanda well. She’d been a close friend. Jules understood the woman’s family situation. Hadn’t Jules taken her under her wing when the young teacher had been newly hired at the school? An extreme wave of distaste quivered over Jules’ skin.
“Mom, please say something.”
Jules gazed Hannah full in the face. “What you and Jason do is your choice.” She took a breath, a gulp really. “I’ll try to come to terms with your decision. You must understand, Hannah, this may take some time. But as for now, I’m afraid I can’t say much else.”
Tears flowed down Hannah’s face. Her dear, dear face. Goosebumps danced across Jules’ skin.
“I have to know one thing, Mom. Can you accept Jillian? She’ll be your granddaughter if we adopt her. Could you accept her as part of our family?”
I can do all things. I can do all things. I can do all things. God’s strength. God’s strength. Wait, wait, wait.
“I will try.”
* * *
After a practically sleepless night with family members scattered on every possible sleeping surface available, she and Rhett were back in his truck, facing north. She’d shared an airbed with Liza, and Rhett had ended up on the living room couch. Jules rubbed sleep from her eyes once more, trying to stay awake. He had to be as wiped out as she was. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Rhett driving all alone. Talking might keep her from drifting off, and it’d help him also. She sighed. Rhett deserved an explanation of this whole mess.
“You okay to drive?” she ventured, glancing toward him.
He looked fine in jeans and an aqua polo. She’d noticed through her sleepy fog this morning how the shirt matched his eyes. Clenching her hands, she shifted her line of sight out her passenger window.
“Yeah, I’m not too bad. You?”
She could feel his scrutiny. One shoulder shrugged.
“I meant sleep-wise, not how you feel overall.” He glanced back at her. “It was an interesting visit.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “If by interesting you mean full of questions about every possible detail of my entire life then, yeah, way interesting.”
“Well, families are like that aren’t they? But they’re there when you need them.”
“I suppose. Mom and Liza are very close. They’ve always been. They’re very persnickety people who iron their sheets, napkins and underwear, and every canned good is numbered and has a particular place in the pantry.” She took a deep breath. “I tried to be that way. I probably succeeded for a while. But that just isn’t me. I hate to say it but, I really fly around by the seat of my pants.”
A laugh sounded from Rhett. “Yes, I’ll agree. You’ve definitely got wings on those britches. How long has Woodard been on the scene?”
Jules waved her hand in drama. “Oh, Mr. Suit? Since I turned sixteen. I believe the man sleeps in that get-up, tie and all.”
“What’s your real father’s name?”
“Jake Summers. So opposite of my stepfather. I told you he drives a truck. Very mechanical, a rough neck. He used to stop in from time to time and visit. He’s a bit like me. I guess I’m a chip off ole’ Pop’s block. He did call Hannah the other day to apologize for not being able to make the funeral.” Jules sighed. “I would’ve loved to have seen him.”
They drove for a while in silence. The radio was off. Except for the monotonous road noise, the truck remained quiet. Rhett took a deep breath.
“You knew Amanda.”
“Yes.” Her throat tightened. She looked at her nails and clicked her thumbnails together. “She was my colleague at school. For two years. We were actually very good friends. Our rooms were side by side.”
Her voice grew quivery so she stopped for a moment. She sipped her soda and replaced the lid.
“Darrell had grown distant for some time before…” She swallowed and shrugged. Tears gathered. “I just put it off as an old couple thing. I convinced myself the aloofness was a natural occurrence. Hannah was grown, off doing her high school busyness, and we didn’t talk or spend time together as a couple. I found things to occupy myself, and he worked a lot.”
A tear slid down her cheek, and she stared out the passenger window. Rhett reached into the back seat of the truck and brought out a box of tissues. After grabbing several, she tucked the container next to her.
“Only he wasn’t really working. He had a good job as an accounting professor at a local college, and he’d been there long enough to work his way up to head of the department. When he stayed late, I assumed he’d picked up a few classes since they’d lost several instructors in his particular specialty.” She sniffed. “I really didn’t give it much thought, and I realized later how ignorant I became because there were signs all along that something wasn’t right.”
Rhett reached over and gave her shoulder an encouraging rub. But it only brought more tears. She kept her head down for a moment, collecting herself.
“I stayed at home, by myself, when he worked. Hannah was already married—she’d been planning to marry Jason all during her senior year. I was cutting out an art project for my students when I remembered I’d left several items on my desk. I wrestled whether I had time to do it the next day before art, but I decided I’d just drive over and get them. So I did.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The events of the day were so clear it was as if she were there once more. Pain raced through her as she re-lived it.
Her voice shook as she continued. She stared glassy-eyed out the passenger window. “I didn’t even turn on the light in my classroom. I knew exactly where I’d left them–right on the edge of my desk. So I walked in. No one was about except Ben, the janitor, and I could hear his distant whistle. Ben always whistled. I went straight to my desk and grabbed the stack of papers, but caught someone talking in quiet mumbles.”
Jules inhaled a deep breath and fixed her unseeing eyes on the air-conditioning vent. “Amanda and I had this storage-slash-office room between our classrooms, and we often took a shortcut through there to talk to one another. We had a desk in there, stacks of storage boxes, and one of my old couches so we could kick back and grade or whatever. The doors were situated right behind our desks. When I heard voices, my first thought was a couple of older kids had gone in to make use of the couch, although I’m not sure who could’ve known about that room.”
She trembled and rubbed the goose bumps on her upper arms. “I remember pausing as my hand went to the doorknob. I rose on tip-toes to peek into the small opaque window in the door and noticed the light was off, and whoever it was appeared only semi-dressed. As I turned the doorknob I caught a familiar voice, and before I reached for the switch, I knew who it was.”