Coming Home (15 page)

“You stood up in the middle of class and said, ‘I have to go now.’ Mr. Thompson nearly flipped his lid, but you left the room anyway. The whole room was stunned. We were all looking at each other, thinking you had lost it for sure.”

“Oh yeah,” Jessie said, remembering. “I ran home and found Mom sitting on the bed, sobbing. I had never seen her like that before. I mean, Mom
rarely
got depressed.”

“No kidding.”

“She saw me and tried to stop crying but couldn’t. I ran to her and hugged her. She told me she was ruining my life, said she wanted to die soon so I could have a normal life. We must have cried together for hours. She was sad for
me,
and
she
was the one who was dying.”

Andy seemed to be struggling with his own emotions. “People like your mom aren’t supposed to die young.” He blew out a breath with seeming disgust at his own words. “What a stupid cliché.”

Jessie reached over and squeezed his hand. “I’ve had these dreams for years, you know? She comes to tuck me in at night and I’m too excited to sleep because tomorrow we’re going to the park in Monument. The park had everything, remember? Swing sets, slides, acres of grass, tall trees. I always made a few new friends when we went. And Mom was never in a hurry. I’d have to drag
her
away. We’d eat lunch there. We’d toss Frisbees. I remember one time asking her what heaven would be like and she told me,
‘One long day in the park, sweetie,’
and that was all I needed to know, because to me, going to the park with Mom was the happiest thing in the world.”

She stopped. In the silence, she felt the embarrassing chill of tears running down her cheeks.
Did I really just tell him that?

Andy was still holding her hand. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, they had met each other for the first time in over a decade.

“When they took her away I was a basket case,” she continued.

“Dad was drinking all the time by then, morning till night. He thought he was hiding it, but I’d smell it on his breath.”

Andy squeezed her hand.

“And then one day, he came home and put these pills on the dining room table. I asked him about them. He said Dr. McCormick had prescribed the pills for him. I kept asking questions until he finally admitted they were supposed to cure him.”

“Cure him?”

“Sure, and I knew exactly what he was talking about.”

“Depression.”

“I guess so, but I was thinking of his drinking, too. I remember thinking,
Fat chance
.”

Andy chuckled sadly.

“I was afraid he wouldn’t remember to take them. Dad never followed through with that kind of thing. So I reminded him every day.”

“Nurse Jessica.”

“Much good it did him.”

She closed her eyes, and it felt so near again, the days when she came home to find her mother asleep.
This is where it all happened,
Jessie thought.
The best days of my life … and the worst days of my life
.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, until Andy motioned toward the door. “Did you hear that?”

Jessie perked up her ears. This time they both heard it—a creaking noise from downstairs.

Chapter Seventeen

JESSIE STOOD UP and followed Andy to the door. They heard a young girl’s trembling voice from the downstairs entryway. “Is that you, Jessie?”

“Laura?”

Jessie grabbed Andy’s flashlight and stood at the edge of the landing. Detecting a tiny shadow in the downstairs entryway, she directed the beam to Laura’s feet. Wearing a brown robe over her pajamas, Laura squinted in the light, shielding her eyes from the glare.

“Are you okay, honey? Does your mom know you’re out?”

“She’s working at the club.” Laura’s eyes grew wide. “Watch out!”

Andy came up behind her. Jessie giggled. “That’s not a ghost, sweetie. That’s …” She turned to Andy. “Who are you?” she asked in a dramatic voice.

Andy grabbed Jessie’s flashlight and placed it under his chin, creating a ghoulish mask. “I’m the ghost of Christmas past… .”

“Andy!”

Laura giggled. “Cool!” And then she froze. “Wait a minute. Are you Andy from the wall?”

Jessie smiled. “Yep.”

“Andy from the wall?” he said curiously.

“You
are
ghosts,” Laura said with a hushed, reverential tone. “Can I come up?”

Jessie crouched down and extended her hands. “Be careful, sweetie.”

“Cool!” Laura started climbing immediately. “Are we still going to the fair tomorrow?”

“Andy from the wall …” Andy repeated and Jessie laughed.

Laura had almost reached them.

Jessie grabbed her hand when she reached the top. “News travels fast.”

“Mrs. Robinette called.”

“So it’s okay with your mom.”

“Of course it is,” Laura replied. “She doesn’t care what I do.” Laura released Jessie’s hand and ran down the hallway, peeking in all the rooms. “Cool! Cool!”

When Jessie joined her at Jessie’s old room, Laura covered her mouth in dismay. “Eeeew! Ick. Winnie the Pooh.” She looked up at Jessie. “You didn’t actually
want
that on your walls, did you?”

“What’s wrong with Winnie the Pooh!” Jessie exclaimed.

“Puh-lease,” she said with a roll of the eyes.

Once Laura had finished exploring the rooms, Jessie walked her back next door while Andy waited by the car. Laura was still skipping up and down. If she had a tail, she would have been wagging it. Molly barked at the door but became friendly again when she saw Jessie.

“Tomorrow, right?” Laura said, rubbing Molly’s neck.

“Tomorrow.” Jessie smiled.

“You won’t forget?”

“Impossible.”

“But what if you do?”

“It won’t happen, sweetie.”

“But sometimes Nora, my baby-sitter, forgets stuff.”

“I won’t, honey.”

“It’s okay, though, if you do. We could do it another time.”

“Do you have a pen?” asked Jessie.

“Sure.” Laura ran into her house and came back with a pencil. “Will this work?”

Jessie wrote down her cell phone number on a piece of paper, remembering that Andy had done this earlier for her. She handed it to Laura. “Call me if I forget.”

Laura grabbed the piece of paper as if it were a hundred-dollar bill. Her eyes were wide. “Cool! I won’t bother you. Promise, promise, promise!”

“Bother me, sweetie.”

“Okay,” Laura squealed and then she waved furiously.

Andy drove Jessie back to her grandmother’s silver Mustang, which was still parked at the ice-cream shop. Jessie reached for the door handle, glancing back at Andy. His eyes were soft blue in the dim light. “You going to be okay?”

“I’m a tank,” she whispered back.

“Wanna ride bikes later?”

Jessie laughed, but she almost said,
I have to ask Mom first… .

She got out and watched as Andy waved and drove off. Before getting into the Mustang, she pulled out her cell phone and checked in with her grandmother, who seemed relieved to hear from her. Jessie felt the walls rising within her the moment her grandmother answered the phone.

She got back thirty minutes later and found Bill and her grandmother in the living room. Doris was perusing a coffee table book. Bill had fallen asleep in front of the TV. He woke up and gave her a welcoming smile as Jessie settled into an armchair.

At eleven they said good-night, and Jessie made her way up the squeakless steps. She undressed for bed, feeling the subtle twinges of another headache.

I could set my watch to it,
she thought.

She turned out the lights and the memories of the day churned within her. Everything about the day had been like going back in time, which was strangely moving and disturbing. Even the memory of believing in God, and how she had prayed for her mother’s healing for years—even
that
had seemed like only yesterday. She’d even discussed religion tonight with Betty as if she still believed God existed. Not in a formless-energy, all-pervasive sense, but in a real, personal sense. As if
anyone
could argue about God’s intentions.

But in the end, Andy’s buffering influence had gotten her through the day. She recalled her embarrassment at leaving the table, thinking she’d lost him.
I guess I can’t lose him that easily,
she thought proudly.

At eleven-thirty her cell phone rang.

“Hello, Laura.”

“Uh … it’s me, Andy.”

At first, her heart sank. She suspected Andy had changed his mind about tomorrow, but she tried to keep her tone upbeat. “Is everything okay?”

“I just wanted to tell you—”

“It’s okay, Andy, if you need to—”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. You go first.”

“Did I call too late?”

“Oh no, of course not.”

Andy hesitated, long enough for Jessie to wonder if she’d been too hasty.
Perhaps he’s had enough of this basket case.

“I just wanted to … say that … I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.”

Jessie felt her cheeks warm. They talked for another half hour, which passed so quickly it felt like a minute. Then she got another call. She apologized to Andy and pressed the flash button. When she returned, Andy was curious.

“That was Laura,” Jessie offered. “She was calling to make sure I was real.”

Andy chuckled. “Funny … that’s what
I
was doing.”

After they hung up, her headache worsened but not nearly as oppressive as last night. At two-thirty she wandered into the bathroom for a glass of water and another aspirin. Back in bed, she stared at the top of her bed for a while, aware of the clicking, popping, and creaking of the old house.

An hour or more seemed to pass and she worried she’d be too tired tomorrow. Then she heard the distant sounds of the TV from downstairs.
Bill must be up. Maybe he has insomnia,
she thought, wondering if she shouldn’t join him, since neither seemed to be sleeping tonight. The floor creaked outside her doorway, and she gasped when a thin line of light appeared beneath it. The door slowly squealed open.

Jessie sat up, the panic building, until she looked across the room and realized where she was, and the relief was profound. She lay back down, trying to catch her breath.

Her own body was smaller again, her little hands holding the covers. She touched her hair; it was short again, chin length. The walls were covered with Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin. A subtle breeze tickled her window screen. She smelled the aroma of the Russian olives just outside. And Mom was there, standing in the doorway to check on her, as she did every night. She was wearing the yellow sundress, the one from Oregon.

What a nightmare!
Jessie thought, thankful for having awakened. She grinned and whispered to the ceiling,
Thank you, Lord, for keeping me safe
. And then she giggled and added,
Even in my dreams!

Her mother crept into the darkened room, walking on tiptoe.

What if she thinks I’m sleeping?
Jessie thought.

“I’m still awake, Mom.”

With the hallway light on her back, her mother’s facial features were hidden in the shadows, but her blond hair, which fell to her shoulders, glistened with a healthy luster in the light from the hallway. Jessie gazed up at her mother.

Mom leaned over and kissed her cheek. The scent of Charlie mingled with the unmistakable smell of her Mom’s own natural scent.

“Oh, Jessie, you’re crying. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great.”

“Are you excited about the park tomorrow?”

“I can’t wait!”

“I’ll fix sandwiches in the morning.”

“Tuna fish?”

Her mom wrinkled her nose. “Tuna fish?”

“Please?”

“Tuna fish it is.” Her mom laughed. She sat at the edge of the bed and Jessie felt the depression of her mattress.

It is real,
she thought.
Mom’s really here!

Mom stroked her arm and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “How did your hair get so blond?”

Jessie giggled. “I had good genes.”

“And a little sun.” Mom smiled, taking Jessie’s hands within her own. “Honey, you’re crying again.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Something at school?”

“No.”

“Andy?”

“We’re cool.”

“You’re cool, eh?”

She paused. “Do you like him, Mom?”

She nodded. “You have very good taste, sweetie.” Her mom leaned over and kissed Jessie on the cheek again. “Sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?”

“Would you stay until I fall asleep?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“I may not fall asleep for a long, long, long time.”

“Then I’ll stay till you do.”

“You don’t mind?”

Mom smiled. “You’re my longed-for child. Have I ever told you that?”

Jessie giggled. “Not enough!” Her mother’s smile turned sly and she tickled Jessie under the arms, and they both squealed.

“Turn over, sweetie. I’ll rub your back.”

Jessie panicked. On her stomach, she’d be asleep in minutes.

“Can I stay this way?”

“Of course.”

“Tell me a story … Snow White. I like the way you tell it.”

“Hmm. Now that you mentioned it, I thought up a couple new twists.”

“Really?”

“Just to keep it interesting.”

“But it ends the same way, right?”

Her mom’s eyes turned mischievous. “I don’t know … maybe the prince shouldn’t kiss her this time.”

“Mom!”

“Okay, okay. A kiss it is… .”

The most creative storyteller in the world began to weave her own version of Snow White, with a few unique twists and turns. Jessie savored the story, holding on to consciousness for as long as she could. But she was helpless to fight the scratchiness behind her eyelids and fell asleep long before Snow White awakened to love.