Dress Me in Wildflowers (21 page)

When the front door opened again, both kids looked up. After only a few footsteps, Dara said, “That’s Mom.”

“Kids, let’s go.” Janie’s voice sounded weak, like it had the night of the reunion.

While Jason and Dara gathered their homework, Farrin walked into the hall. Janie looked like a washcloth that had been wrung out and left to dry.

“What’s wrong?”

“Must be the flu. I don’t feel very good.”

“You need to be home in bed.”

Janie nodded. “I think I’ll rest a while before I take the kids out trick-or-treating.”

“If you’ve got the flu, the last thing you need to be doing is traipsing about after dark.”

“But they’ve been looking so forward to it. I can’t disappoint them.” By the time Janie got to the end of her sentence, she sounded totally winded and sank onto a chair to catch her breath.

“I’ll take them,” Farrin said. Why was she doing this, getting so attached to those two sweet little faces? She wasn’t even good around kids, hadn’t been around them much since she’d been one herself.

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“It’s no problem.” She forced a laugh. “After all, Oak Valley isn’t that big. How long could it possibly take, a couple of hours?”

Inexplicably, Janie suddenly looked on the verge of tears. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Janie left with the children, and Farrin secured the inn’s doors before heading for the apartment complex.

By the time the trick-or-treating excursion ended, Farrin was laughing and stuffing candy in her mouth just like the kids. She’d have to run laps around Oak Valley to get all those miniature candy bars off her hips.

The kids surprised her again when they calmed their excitement before opening the door to the apartment. It was a good thing too because Janie was asleep on the couch. Even with them being quiet, Janie woke and offered a weak smile.

“Did you two bring home tons of candy?”

“Yes,” Dara said as she pulled out a Hershey bar. “I saved this for you. Plain, no nuts, just like you like them.”

Janie pulled herself to a sitting position and kissed her daughter on the top of her head. “Thank you.”

Not wanting to interrupt, Farrin stood still next to the door while the twins told their mother about every single stop of the night, including how “Mrs. Dudley had those awful popcorn balls again.” Farrin stifled a laugh because she remembered Mrs. Dudley making those inedible concoctions when she’d gone trick-or-treating.

After Dara and Jason exhausted their stories, they took the candy and headed for their room — but not before Dara hugged Farrin and Jason offered a thank you.

“You’re welcome.”

When they’d disappeared into their room and switched on some music, Janie said thank you as well.

“No problem. It was actually kind of fun. And I agree with them on the popcorn balls.”

Janie laughed. “Do you remember how they used to stick to your fingers?”

“Yeah. It was like trying to get industrial-strength glue off.”

Janie’s laughter ended in a coughing fit.

“Come on, you need to go to bed.”

“I’m okay.”

“No arguments. You won’t win. I’m used to bossing people around.” Farrin smiled, trying to alleviate Janie’s obvious embarrassment at being sick yet again in front of her.

When they reached Janie’s bedroom, she collapsed on the side of her bed. Farrin pulled the covers back and urged Janie, who’d already changed into her pajamas, into bed.

“You’ve kind of had a bad fall of being sick.”

“Yeah.” Janie’s voice broke. A tear ran down Janie’s cheek, followed by another. “Why are you doing this?”

“What?”

“Being nice to me?”

“I . . . you just seemed like you needed a little help.”

Janie turned her head away and inhaled a shaky breath. “But I don’t deserve it. I . . . I remember how horrible I was to you.”

Farrin swallowed and fought the urge to retreat. She did not want to relive those days again. She was surprised Janie even remembered the things she’d said.

“It was a long time ago.”

“But I was so awful, especially prom night. That’s why I was so shocked when you helped me at the reunion, then even more so when you hired me.” Janie turned her teary eyes back toward Farrin. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Farrin fought her own tears, but at the same time an incredible heaviness lifted from her chest. “It’s okay.” And she was shocked that she really meant it. She handed a tissue to Janie so she could wipe her eyes. “No need to cry. It’ll only make you feel worse.”

“Actually, it feels good. I’ve felt like I was going to explode for so long. I can’t cry in front of the kids.” Janie pushed herself up against the headboard of the bed. “I need to tell you something because I feel you gave me a chance with the job, and I need to be honest with you.”

Farrin didn’t want to hear any more dredging up of the past, but the tight look on Janie’s face kept her still.

“I was late today because I got sick on the way home earlier than I normally do. Every Friday for six weeks, I’ve been taking chemotherapy and today they upped the dosage.”

“You’ve got cancer?”

Janie nodded.

“And you’ve been going to chemo by yourself? Why hasn’t your mother been going with you?”

“My parents don’t know.”

“They don’t know? Why haven’t you told them?”

Janie dabbed at her eyes. “I just haven’t been able to face that yet. My parents are stressful enough to be around. I just . . . just couldn’t do it yet. I’d hoped I’d get better and they’d never have to know.”

“Hoped?”

Janie inhaled a shaky breath. “It’s not going well.”

Farrin walked across the room. “You have to tell your parents. You need someone to help you.” She pointed toward the twins’ room. “You’re going to need help with them. Do they even know?”

“Yes. They’ve helped me a great deal.”

Farrin sank onto the end of the bed. “Does anyone else know?”

“No.”

“Why haven’t you told someone, asked for help?”

“Pride. Fear. It scares me more than you can know that I may not be here to watch my children grow up, that they might have to grow up in my parents’ home and go through what I did.”

“Did your parents abuse you?”

Janie shook her head. “Nothing physical. They were . . . demanding. I had to be perfect in every way. I bet you didn’t know I had no desire to be a cheerleader.”

“But you were a cheerleader, the head one, for six years.”

“Because that’s what popular girls are supposed to be. You have to dress in the right clothes, be involved in the right activities, be friends with the right girls, don’t associate with certain people.” Janie looked down.

“But they wouldn’t want for anything if it came to that.”

“No, nothing material. Only love.”

“I’m sure your parents love you.”

“Then they’ve never shown it. You know, while I was busy being a class A bitch to you, I was actually jealous of you.”

“Of me? I find that hard to believe.”

“I know you were embarrassed that your mom was a cook at school, but while you were looking down as you went through the lunch line, I saw her watching you. I could tell how much she loved you.”

Farrin couldn’t listen anymore, had to get out of the apartment. She rose and headed for the door, then stopped. “Your life is not the only one that wasn’t what it seemed.”

Without looking back, she walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind her.

****

Farrin couldn’t sleep with Janie’s words rolling over and over in her head. Finally, she gave up and got in the shower. After dressing, she slipped into the kitchen to find Faye sitting there with a cup of coffee.

“I must say you’re developing the habit of getting up before me in the morning.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but it was only ten minutes before I get up anyway. I don’t think the extra beauty sleep was going to help me.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I know. I heard you tossing and turning when I went to the bathroom last night. Something wrong?”

If Janie’s parents didn’t know about her condition, no one else needed to either. Farrin shook her head. “Just too much on my mind.”

“Um. Well, if you want to talk about it later, I’m here.”

Farrin looked at the back of Faye’s gray head. There was no fooling the woman.

The morning was crisp and frosty, and fog hung low over the valley, silently watching as the little town woke up. Still, Farrin chose to walk to the inn rather than drive. Something about the morning was more calming than an entire night of trying to force sleep.

When she reached the inn, she let herself inside and wandered from room to room. Not for the first time, she wondered why she couldn’t have just let this place go and not worried about the city’s plans. All her purchase had done was shove her further in debt and entangle her more in the lives of the people in Oak Valley, particularly Janie Carlisle. She might have never known Janie had cancer, that she had a surprisingly sensitive side, that she quite possibly wasn’t the royal bitch she’d seemed all those years ago.

Farrin sank onto the bottom step of the stairway leading to the second floor. What was she going to do? Her payroll consisted of a woman with cancer and two children. Guilt welled that they were doing her work for her, but then she couldn’t prevent them from continuing since she was their only source of income.

Dear God, how was Janie paying for her medical bills now? Had she gotten some government assistance?

Farrin surged to her feet and paced the hallway. She was halfway through one of these paces when the front door opened and Janie stood there with the twins. Farrin forced a smile for the kids’ sakes.

“You all go on upstairs and work on those windows,” Janie said.

As the children rushed up the stairs, Farrin stared at Janie. “Why are you out of bed?”

“I have a job to do,” Janie said as she pulled off her coat and gloves and hung them on the coat tree next to the door.

“Not when you’re sick.”

“It’s cancer, Farrin. I’m not getting over it tomorrow.”

“But—”

Janie held up her hand. “Listen. I was having a weak moment last night. I don’t expect any special treatment. I’m fighting this, and I’ll fight it as long as I can draw breath. But I don’t plan to stay home and lay in bed, not when my kids are depending on me.”

“But your parents . . . ”

“I’ll tell them when I’m ready.”

Farrin stood motionless and tried to ignore Janie’s labored breathing as she climbed the stairs. This just wasn’t right, but what could she do?

Feeling more helpless than she had in years, Farrin walked into the dining room and sat down to her work, first some designing, then some calls about having the electricity checked throughout the inn and getting a new sign made for the outside. The picture of Drew and his family at Colonial Williamsburg had reminded her of the replica signs throughout the restored town, and she’d created a similar design for the inn.

The creak of floorboards above her and the murmur of voices as Janie talked to the children distracted her. Despite her vain hope that she could remain somewhat detached from the situation, admiration welled inside her. Janie was going through so much alone with only two little nine-year-olds to partially confide in. Instead of going to her parents for help, she stubbornly insisted on making her own way.

Determination and self-sufficiency were things Farrin understood, and if that’s what Janie wanted, that’s what Farrin would give her.

She climbed the stairs. When she reached the room where Janie was working, she stopped herself from asking if she should be painting. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Farrin saw Janie’s sigh rather than heard it. Janie placed the paintbrush on the plastic sheeting next to the paint bucket and turned to face her.

“It’s about your photograph downstairs.”

“Would you like me to move it?”

“No, it’s perfect. I wondered if you have any other photos like that, the panoramics that really showcase the area?”

Surprise flickered over Janie’s face. “Uh, yeah. Those and smaller prints, too.”

“I want to buy several to hang in the rooms, and then I’d like to have you place some of them in the gift shop.”

“Gift shop?”

“Yeah, that was a bit of a brainstorm I had yesterday. We’re going to put a gift shop in the front room and feature locally made crafts.”

“This isn’t—”

“Because of your cancer? No. And I have more than half a dozen people that will testify that I began work on this yesterday. Drew, Faye, Opal Baker, all the craftsmen I called.”

“I thought you were going to sell this place.”