Chapter 25
I tried not to feel insulted that Jolene seemed more disappointed to be leaving Mardi behind than to be leaving either Sarah or me.
She also spent a lot more time explaining the care and feeding of Mardi to Sarah than she spent explaining mine.
Granted, I could speak and explain my needs, but still.
Despite the cooler weather, Jaxson was sweating when he climbed the stairs after loading all of Jolene’s luggage into Bubba, including at least three covered casseroles in insulated containers and an entire cooler filled with her homemade breads and cookies.
Since an equal amount of food and goodies had been left in the kitchen, I wondered yet again when—and if—Jolene ever slept.
“Is your mom’s oven broken?” I asked.
Jolene gave me a confused look. “Not that I know of,” she said as she carried out the door yet another dish covered in foil.
Since I couldn’t go down the stairs, we said our good-byes on my perch on the couch. Jolene hugged me twice while delicately wiping tears from her eyes. “I hate to leave you, Nola. Maybe I should call Mama—”
“Don’t even think about it. Sarah and I will be fine, and Cooper will be back on Friday. In case I need anything before then, Mimi and Beau will be on call, with Camille and Christopher on backup.”
“What about Henry?” Sarah asked. “I noticed his name wasn’t on the list of phone numbers.”
I shared a look with Jaxson while Jolene said, “Because that man is as handy as a screen door on a submarine. Now, come hug my neck so we can be on our way. Mama’s called me three times already this morning, seeing if we’ve left yet.
Daddy’s going to deep-fry the turkey this year, and Mama’s a nervous wreck.
He just about burned down the house last year, but he swears he knows where he went wrong.
Which reminds me—we need to stop at the Walmart and get a couple of fire extinguishers, just in case. ”
We said our final good-byes, Sarah waving Mardi’s paw, while I narrowed my eyes at Jaxson to remind him of last night’s conversation. “Don’t forget to call Carly!” I called after him.
They’d been gone less than five minutes when the doorbell rang. I checked the Ring app on my phone and saw Beau standing on the doorstep. “It’s Beau. Could you—”
“On it!” Sarah was already racing down the steps to let him in.
He was dressed for the funeral, wearing a dark suit and tie, looking a lot better than any man on the way to his mother’s funeral should. “You clean up good,” I said. “Your mom would be proud.”
“She is,” Sarah said, matter-of-factly.
We both looked at her, and I was reminded of what I’d promised Sarah the night before.
“Do you have a minute to talk? I promise it won’t take long.”
He looked at his watch, and then at Sarah and me. “I still have to pick up Sam, but I can spare a minute. Unless it can wait?”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t think so.
” She stepped closer to him and looked up into his face.
“You know what I want to talk about, don’t you?
” Closing her eyes, she tilted her head and breathed in deeply through her nose.
“That smell—I remember it from the cemetery tour. It’s like dirt and rotting leaves. And—”
“Death,” Beau finished for her. “I know. I smell it, too. It’s been getting heavier and heavier and sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe. Like I’m being buried alive.”
“Me, too,” Sarah said. She took his hand. I thought I’d imagined the ripple of static electricity that smudged the air around them, but then I saw them jerk their hands apart as if they’d both been shocked.
Beau stared at her. “What was that?”
“We’re stronger together,” Sarah said, echoing what I’d heard Melanie, Jayne, and their mother, Ginny, say whenever it was time for battle.
“Oh, no,” he said, holding his hands up between himself and Sarah. “I’m not getting you involved in my family drama. You’re just a kid.”
Sarah looked back at me for encouragement. “She is, Beau,” I said, “but she wants to help.” I paused. “Adele asked her to.”
Beau began to shake his head. “No. No, Sarah. That’s not okay. She doesn’t have the right—”
“You need Sarah’s help,” I said. “You’re in real danger. And so is your dad. From the same people who killed Adele. You don’t have much time, and if we can keep Sarah safe, I think we should let her help you.”
“Keep her safe? I don’t even know if I can keep you safe. You almost died in that attic—remember? Because you wouldn’t listen to me to stay away. And let’s not forget the car accident.” He scratched the back of his head. “This is nuts. I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation.”
“She’s your mom,” I said. “And hasn’t she already saved your life once?
Maybe she thinks she has to do it again so that you will believe that she and your dad love you and that they didn’t abandon you.
You should be jumping at the chance to find out what really happened to them so that you can finally stop blaming your parents for your abandonment issues. ”
I didn’t realize how cruel the words sounded until I’d already spoken them and it was too late to call them back. But they were true. And sometimes the truth hurt.
His eyes darkened as he glared at me, his expression exactly what I imagined he’d wear if I’d physically struck him. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”
I sucked in my breath and held it until my lungs burned. “Touché,” I said.
He pulled out a clear baggie from the breast pocket of his jacket, the two rings visible inside, and handed it to Sarah. “I don’t have time to argue right now. Please hide these until Mimi asks for them. I’ve got a funeral to get to.”
Beau walked quickly to the door and I felt the thud of each angry footstep.
“You’re wrong,” Sarah said quietly.
Beau came to an abrupt stop before turning to face my sister.
“She said good-bye when she left. You were sleeping but you heard her, even though you always tell people that she didn’t say good-bye.”
He looked back at Sarah, his anger dissipating when he realized he was looking at a child. Without a word, he headed down the stairs and out the front door, slamming it behind him on his way out.
—
Sarah and I spent the day parked on the sofa, bingeing HGTV’s House Hunters and the Investigation Discovery channel, which was having a Southern Fried Homicide marathon.
We also watched The Sound of Music from start to finish, something I didn’t think I’d ever done.
We spent at least twenty minutes arguing over whether the song “My Favorite Things” is about Christmas and, if not, how it shouldn’t place the movie in the same category as How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Christmas Vacation.
It was as if we were both looking for a distraction from the lingering unease following Beau’s abrupt departure and Sarah’s unsettling last words to him.
I’d expected him to text or call, and I’d found myself constantly checking my phone until I caught Sarah watching me and forced myself to ditch the phone face down on the floor.
When Sarah retreated to the kitchen to make yet another batch of microwave popcorn I checked my phone again but found only more pictures from JJ’s bake-off, along with the news that he’d made it into the next round.
These messages had been sent by Melanie to the family group text chain that Sarah had named “Addams Family.” Melanie had yet to figure out how to change it, so it remained.
I tapped out a string of thumbs-up emojis, then found myself hesitating before hitting Send.
I could easily tell Melanie now that I had been in a fender bender and had hurt my ankle, if only to appease Mimi and everyone else who kept insisting that I needed to tell my parents about the accident.
I hit Send without adding anything, then put my phone down on the floor again and shoved it under the sofa so I wouldn’t be tempted to pick it up.
I’d call Melanie and Jack on Sunday, when Sarah was on the plane flying back home and Cooper and Jolene were back in town, so they wouldn’t think that I’d been abandoned to my own devices.
The last thing I wanted was for Melanie and Jack to fly to New Orleans and try to fix everything.
As many times as they’d told me that they had faith in me, my recovery, and my dogged determination to see my transition through, they were still my parents.
I had a strong feeling that, no matter how many years had passed and how much older I’d become, they still saw me as that lost little thirteen-year-old wearing a halter top and a bad attitude and standing on Melanie’s porch.
The rings lay on the coffee table, where Sarah had put them while she considered the perfect spot to hide them, which she’d promised she’d do before bedtime. She’d held them in her hands for a long time, hoping to feel a spark.
“Nothing,” she’d said. “I think it’s a matter of dialing the right channel, like on Grandpa’s old radio when he tries to find his favorite AM talk station. Ginny can always fine-tune it, which makes sense, and I’m sure she could read these rings, too. But they’re on a frequency I can’t find.”
“Good, because that’s not something I want you to be doing. If Melanie didn’t disown me outright, she’d find another way to punish me—like making me wear Kate Spade and Lilly Pulitzer for a year.”
“Where do I sign up?” Sarah asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Bottom line is that Beau and Mimi will take care of Adele. You did your part and told Beau what you needed to. The rest is up to him.”
“But we still get to go to the Esplanade house, right?”
“Yes. With Cooper. But if we see that guy from my backseat, we’re noping right out of there, okay?”
“I guess. But I might need to stay here longer to make sure everyone who’s been searching for the light finds it.”
“Good try, but no. You’ve got school on Monday. Besides, Melanie has probably already bought matching Christmas outfits for you, JJ, and the dogs, and I know you don’t want to disappoint her.”
She didn’t smile. “I just want to accomplish one special thing this year, you know? And we’re almost in December.”
I stared at my funny, smart, and beautiful sister and it was like my words were coming out of her mouth.
Every painful memory of what it was like to be caught between childhood and adulthood hit me like a blow to the solar plexus.
“Put those down, and then I want you to sit and listen carefully. I’ll be blunt because my ankle’s hurting and I’m feeling crabby.
” She’d been juggling the wedding rings—as if that in itself weren’t a skill to be proud of—but immediately stopped and returned them to the plastic bag on the coffee table.
“Sarah, you have many talents. One of your most stellar ones happens to be communicating with the dead. Sure, you won’t get a school trophy or certificate for it, and you might actually hate it sometimes, but I know without a doubt that one day you will be grateful for it.
At some point you might even get a little proud and smug that you can do what so few people can.
You have the ability to change lives. Not many people can say that.
And if any of your classmates make fun of you or try to make you feel like less than the wonderful person you are, it’s because they’re jealous.
Hitting a home run in softball is nothing compared to what you can do. ”
“So then why can’t I—”
“Because you’re not yet even thirteen. And also because I’m not your mother. Can we leave it at that, please?”
“Whatever.” Her phone beeped, and she groaned when she read the screen.
“It’s JJ. He thinks he’s going to win in his age bracket.
” She threw herself back on the sofa in a dramatic sprawl.
“At least I don’t have to respond. I texted Melanie saying that Mississippi has bad cell reception and not to expect to hear from me until Saturday. ”
“The whole state?”
“Nobody’s questioned it, and that means we’re good, right? Mom, Dad, and JJ won’t think it weird if we’re not replying to their messages.”
“Good plan.”
She studied me with a contemplative expression. “You know how Dad says it’s always better to rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with?”
“Yes,” I drew out slowly. “But waiting a few more days won’t change a thing except that I will have had a few more days of rest and recovery. So let’s enjoy this time together now and let me figure out the rest later.”
“You sound just like Mom.” She didn’t make it sound like a compliment.
“I think Mardi needs to go out. It’s starting to rain, so please put on his raincoat, which is hanging with his leash on the peg by the downstairs door. Jolene’s Wizard of Oz umbrella is in the stand beneath it in case you need it.”
She pried the sleeping dog off the sofa and began carrying him toward the door. “I don’t think Beau’s the only one who needs an intervention.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She put Mardi on the floor and I listened as they walked down the steps, Sarah loudly singing the lyrics to “Lips Are Movin.” It was my favorite Meghan Trainor song, even if it was about lying.
I settled back into the sofa and checked my phone for the time.
My ankle was throbbing, and I’d already missed two doses of my pain pills.
I’d been waiting to take one dose before bedtime so that I could sleep, despite Camille’s warning.
I extended my hand for the bottle on the tray table but only managed to knock it over.
The cap fell off and several pills rolled out, but all of them settled just outside of my reach.
After several failed attempts to grab one, I leaned back against the pillows to wait until Sarah returned.