65. Jillian
SIXTY-FIVE
Jillian
I hang up the phone after talking to Leonora, with Sheila watching me intently from across the table. It’s been two days since the fire gutted everything we owned and since we were discharged from the hospital. Sheila kept a watchful vigil over me the entire time—fear that I might crumble evident in her worried expression. “She said she’ll meet us at the restaurant. Easier to talk in person.”
“Sounds good.” Sheila stares at her phone in my hand. “Go ahead. You have to do it. The longer you wait, the worse it will be.”
She’s right. I’m dreading this phone call, but I have to do this. Call my parents. I know my mother likes to keep tabs on what’s happening in New York, so she can use it as ammunition to try to convince me to move back home.
I call the house, the number memorized from childhood.
She picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Why are you calling the house number? What number is this? I don’t recognize it.” It’s a loaded question. And her voice already has a hint of annoyance and worry.
“I lost my phone, and I don’t know your cell phone by heart.”
“What happened? Did you get robbed? You got robbed, didn’t you? Are you okay? Is Jamie okay?”
I want to lie. I want to hang up. I want to go hide under the blanket. “No, Mom. I didn’t get robbed. But there was an accident, and my phone got damaged.”
The sound of her gasp is loud in my ear. “What happened? Was it a car accident? Everybody drives crazy over there.”
I’m making it worse by dragging it out. I take a deep breath and go for it. “Not a car accident, Mom. There was a fire, but we’re okay. No one was hurt. I’m fine and Jamie’s fine and Daisy is fine.”
A wail has me pulling the phone away from my ear. “I’m coming to New York. I’m gonna get on a plane right now and I’m coming.”
This is it. The crying, the screaming, the drama. The reason I left Ohio in the first place. And never wanted to go back. “Mom, you’re not coming here. Like I said, we’re fine. No one is hurt. Not even a scratch.” It’s a lie. There are a few scratches, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Kurt! Kurt!” she screams for my father. “Kurt, we’re going to New York. Call the airline. I need to pack.”
“Mom! Stop it. You’re not listening to me. You’re not coming here. There’s no room for you. The building burned down. I don’t have a store. I don’t have an apartment. I don’t have a place to live.” I regret the last thing I said as soon as it’s out of my mouth. I gave her an excuse to tell me to go back to Ohio again.
“You have to come home. You have to come home right now. What do you need? I can send you tickets. For you and Jamie.”
I don’t miss how she leaves Daisy out. She never liked pets. Her excuse has always been the mess they make. Or how expensive they are. And how they need too much attention.
“Mom, I called to let you know what happened. And let you know we’re fine. Right now, I’m staying with Sheila, and I’m not doing anything else. I have to wait to hear from the fire department investigation and find out what caused the fire.”
“Jillian Elizabeth Heart. You are my daughter, and you listen to me. Either you come home or I come to you. You choose.”
When she gets like this, there’s no talking to her. She put me in an impossible situation. “Mom, I understand you’re worried. And I know you want me to come back. But Ohio is no longer home to me.”
“Ohio will always be your home. I don’t understand why you deny us. Deny your roots. This house was good enough for you for eighteen years. But that boy filled your head with ideas. And look at you now. Homeless, with a child who refuses to speak, and alone.”
Her words are a stab to my soul. I can’t believe that after all these years, she’s still blaming CJ. “Mom, I have to go now. I’ll call you tonight.”
“I know you don’t want to talk about this. You always get defensive. But it’s the truth. He took you from us and then left you there alone.”
She talks like CJ abandoned Jamie and me. Like he chose to leave. I swallow the rocks in my throat. Choose not to correct her like I’ve done a dozen times before. No use in talking when she gets like this.
When I don’t respond, she continues. “If you don’t call me by eight tonight, I’ll be on your doorstep in the morning.”
I don’t bother telling her I no longer have a doorstep. “Bye, Mom. I’ll call you tonight.”
I hang up and look up. Hand Sheila’s phone back to her.
“That was rough. Sorry, she was talking so loud, I kind of heard her.”
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. Not your fault. My mother is the way she is.”
I hold out a hand to her, and Sheila takes it. Sits next to me on the sofa. “I want to say thank you. For everything.”
“Pff. You’re my best friend. No thanks needed.”
“Yes, I need to. I’m wearing your clothes, using your phone, eating your food, and taking over your apartment.”
She holds my hand between both of hers. “You can stay here as long as you need. All three of you.”
I love how she includes Daisy. “Just for a couple of days until I figure out what I’m doing.”
She opens her mouth to object, but I put my free hand up and stop her. “Sheila, we both know there’s no room here for three people and a parrot. I’m already taking over your bedroom with Jamie. I can’t make you sleep on the couch for weeks on end until I find a new place. ”
Jamie comes into the small living room, rubbing his face. He looks so pale. There are dark smudges under his eyes.
Sheila lets go of my hand, and I open my arms for him.
“Come here, baby.”
He crawls into my lap. I kiss the top of his head. A faint smell of smoke still lingers on his hair despite the multiple times I washed it over the last two days. My hair is the same, and based on what Google said, it can take a few days and multiple washes. We had to trash the clothes we were wearing. I’ve been borrowing Sheila’s and luckily, I always keep a couple of outfits and shoes at Sheila’s for Jamie in case of an emergency, so at least he can wear his own clothes. We haven’t left her apartment since we came here from the hospital.
Sheila puts her hand up for a high five. “Hey there, kiddo. Are you hungry?”
He nods.
“We’re going out for breakfast soon, but if you’re super hungry, you can have a snack first. I saw some cheese sticks in the fridge. Or do you prefer to go out?”
“Go out.” His voice is hoarse.
Sheila’s eyes widen when she looks from him to me.
I squeeze him. “That sounds like a great idea. We need to go to the store and get some new clothes, shoes, food for Daisy. And I think I need to get a new cell phone, too.” With no money or credit cards or access to my bank account. I look at Sheila and mouth, “I’ll pay you back,” over Jamie’s head.
She glares at me.
Her phone rings, and she frowns at it. “I don’t know the number. ”
“My mother?” It would be like her to call again and to force her will on me.
“No, it’s a New York area code.” She shows me the screen before answering it. “Hello?”
I can’t hear anything the other person is saying. That goes to show how loud my mother must have been.
Sheila smiles. “That is great. Yes, she’s right here. Yes, I know where that is. In two hours is fine. We’ll see you soon. Thank you so much.”
“What was that about?”
“The fire chief. He said they got your pocketbook and cell phone. We can go to the station to pick them up.”
Tears flood my eyes. Knowing that I can at least have my ID and credit card so I can get what I need and not have to burden Sheila any more than I already am is a relief. “I can’t believe they have it.” I look at myself and the oversized T-shirt I’m wearing. “I’m ready to raid your closet now.”
Sheila stands up. “Follow me.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re in the elevator. Daisy is locked in the glass shower stall with some fruit and nuts, where she can’t do much damage and it’s easy to clean up.
Luckily, Sheila and I are similar in size, and I can get away with wearing yoga pants, a tank top, and a T-shirt. Her feet are smaller, so I have to settle for flip-flops.
“I’m starving. Are you ready for some food, Jamie?” Sheila asks.
He shifts from foot to foot. “Yes.” His voice is small and unsure, but he’s speaking. And I don’t know why now. If it’s a natural progression of all the therapy he’s had. If it’s because of Elliott entering our lives and me being happier. Or because of the fire. Whatever it is, I’m grateful.
When we exit the building, Jamie stops. Searches right and left, checking people’s faces and the cars driving by. Then he drops his head.
I kneel in front of him. “What is it, Jamie?”
He starts to sign and then stops himself. He attempts to speak. Nothing comes out. He swallows, rubs at his throat. “Why didn’t Elliott come to see us?”