Jeanette felt her temper stir. “You say that as if I abandoned you,” she said heatedly, unable to stop now that she’d started. “You and Dad shut me out. That’s why I left. There didn’t seem to be any reason to stay. Even when I mentioned coming home for a visit two months ago, you acted as if you didn’t really want me there.”
Her mother dropped her head. After a moment, she looked up and met Jeanette’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know how things got so mixed up. After Ben died, it seemed like I was lost. I couldn’t cope with anything. And what little strength I did have…” She shrugged. “Well, your father needed me.”
“I needed you, too,” Jeanette said. There was genuine dismay in her mother’s expression as she reached for Jeanette’s hand. “I know you did. Every time I looked at you, I could see the pain in your eyes, but I had no idea what to do about it. After Ben died, your father and I failed you. There’s no question in my mind about that. I don’t know that either of us could have done anything differently, but I am sorry. I regret the way we handled things, I truly do.”
This hint that her mother had at least recognized her pain allowed Jeanette to be more generous than she had been. “You and Dad were grieving. I understood that.”
“So were you,” her mother said, not cutting herself any slack. “I don’t know how we let ourselves pretend otherwise. You’d always been so self-sufficient, I suppose—” She stopped herself, then, “No, that’s no excuse. What we did was wrong.”
Her mother’s words, even though such a long time coming, eased the ache in Jeanette’s heart. Healing was still a long way off, but it was a start.
“Maybe I should have tried harder, come home more often, instead of just giving up,” Jeanette said, willing to shoulder at least a little of the blame for how things had deteriorated between them. Her mother squeezed her hand. “You’re here now. Your daddy is going to be so pleased when he wakes up and sees you. He’s missed you. He’s too proud to let you know that, but I know he has.” She sighed. “Maybe things will be different now. Maybe us finding our way back to each other is the silver lining to this cloud.”
Jeanette wanted that. She really did. She just wasn’t sure things could change so easily.
Jeanette spent most of the next week at the hospital. Her father improved quickly and, as her mother predicted, he was clearly happy to find her at his bedside. Sadly, though, after an initially tearful exchange, he retreated once more into silence.
“I think it’s depression,” Maddie said when Jeanette described it to her. Maddie and the Sweet Magnolias had taken turns coming to the hospital to sit with her on the rare occasions when Tom wasn’t by her side.
“You should speak to his doctor about it,” Maddie continued. “Or get him into counseling.”
“Not going to happen,” Jeanette said wearily. “He thinks psychiatrists and psychologists are a waste of time and money. As for drugs, he doesn’t have much use for those, either.”
“That’s just plain crazy,” Maddie protested. Jeanette merely lifted a brow.
“Well, there has to be a way,” Maddie said. “Maybe the doctor can slip him antidepressants while he’s in the hospital or at the rehab facility getting back on his feet.”
“I don’t think it’s ethical for a doctor to give pills to patients against their will,” Jeanette said. “But maybe the doctor will have better luck talking to my father than I would.”
“An objective third party is sometimes all it takes,”
Maddie told her. “Especially if they’re wearing a white coat.”
Jeanette hoped it would be that easy, because she had a hunch Maddie was right in her diagnosis. She regarded Maddie with gratitude. “Thank you for being so supportive, but you really don’t have to keep driving over here,” she told her. “I’m only going to stay a couple more days—until my dad’s settled at the rehab facility—then I’ll be back at work. I really appreciate all the time off you’ve let me take. I know it’s had an impact on spa business.”
“Actually I need to talk to you about that,” Maddie said.
“I wasn’t going to get into this until you came back, but since you’ve brought it up, Dana Sue, Helen and I think we need to hire another person to help with spa services.”
Jeanette regarded her with alarm. “I can come back sooner if you need me.”
“That’s not the point,” Maddie said. “It’s not just because you’ve taken a few days off. The spa business is booming. We’re turning people away. It’s time to expand. And Helen is thinking maybe we ought to open a second spa. If we go forward with that, you’ll be overseeing the expansion. Your plate will be pretty full.”
“I had no idea you were even considering a new location. Do you know where?”
“No, neither of us has thought that through and we wanted your input, anyway. We all need to sit down and discuss this thoroughly. There are a lot of pros and cons to consider. We’ll do that when you’re back. In the meantime, I wonder if you know anyone you’d like to hire. Or do you want to advertise? You don’t have to tell me now, but let’s get on this soon, okay?”
“Yes, sure.” Her head was reeling.
Maddie must have noticed her reaction. “Jeanette, are you okay? This is all good news, you know that, don’t you?”
Yes, she supposed she did. But it seemed as if the ground was once again shifting beneath her feet. She’d found the stability she wanted in Serenity. She’d found a home and friends. Maddie hadn’t said anything to her before about opening this new location and her being in charge. She was confused. They’d been so pleased about her buying a house because it meant she planned to stay in Serenity. But now…
She looked at Maddie. “I don’t want to move,” she blurted.
Maddie seemed startled. “Sweetie, you’re not moving anywhere. I didn’t mean that. I just meant we’d be counting on you to help us plan this. You might have to do a little traveling, but we’re not letting you get away, not from the spa and not from us. I thought we made that clear when we celebrated you buying your house in Serenity.”
Relief flooded through Jeanette. “I’m sorry. I guess I jumped to conclusions. I’m not thinking too clearly these days. There’s been so much happening and I’m having a little difficulty keeping up.”
“Which is exactly why you can count on us for backup,”
Maddie said. “And Tom, too, I imagine. He seems pretty committed.”
“He’s been great,” Jeanette said, thinking of all the hours he’d spent at the hospital, the kindness he’d shown toward her mother, the food he’d brought over from Sullivan’s and from some of the finest Charleston restaurants. She suspected Howard was about to have a conniption over the amount of time Tom was away from the office, but if he was pressuring Tom, Tom had never shown it when he was with her.
“Not every man is good in a crisis,” Maddie commented.
“Something to think about, don’t you agree?”
Jeanette grinned at her lack of subtlety. “Yes, Maddie, he gets points for this.”
“A lot of points, I hope.”
“I haven’t kept a running tally,” Jeanette said wryly. Maddie leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Maybe you should,” she said. “See you in a couple of days. Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t forget that Thanksgiving is coming up soon and you’re expected at my house,” Maddie reminded her.
“Tom, too, if he’s not going to be with his family. I’ll leave that invitation up to you.”
Jeanette laughed. “Since you’re so eager to see us together, I’m surprised you’re leaving it up to me.”
“I can’t run your life for you. I can only nudge,” Maddie replied.
“And it’s killing you, isn’t it?” Jeanette teased.
“You have no idea.”
Jeanette was still chuckling as she watched her friend walk away. Then she sobered and went to spend a few minutes with her father, who’d finally been moved into a regular room. This sign that he was truly improving had been enough to persuade her mother to run back to the farm for the entire day, rather than the few hours she’d been spending there at night.
Jeanette found her dad staring blankly at the TV, which was tuned to an afternoon talk show she doubted he’d ever watched at home.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said cheerfully, pulling a chair up beside the bed.
He barely spared her a glance before turning his gaze back to the TV.
She tried hard not to be daunted by his utter lack of welcome. She noted that his color was better and he’d made an effort to comb his hair. Someone had shaved him, too, so his sunken cheeks were no longer shadowed by stubble.
“The doctor says you’re much better. You’ll probably be going to rehab in a day or two, so they can help you get back on your feet.”
That got his attention. He turned to her with a scowl.
“I’m not going to any rehab place. Your mother can take care of me just fine at home.”
“Not until you can get around on your own, she can’t,”
Jeanette said firmly. She’d had to fight her mother on this, as well, but she was determined not to give in. The doctor agreed with her. “It’ll be too much for her, Dad. She’s not strong enough to lift you if you fall or to help you to the bathroom, much less run up and down the stairs all day long.”
“Whatever,” he muttered. Anger flitted across his face and he pounded his fist against his cast. “This never should have happened.”
“How did it?” she asked. “You’re usually so careful.”
“My mind wandered, that’s all,” he said defensively.
“Probably not even a few seconds and the next thing I knew, I was down in that drainage ditch by the highway with the tractor on top of me.” His eyes turned moist.
“Probably how it happened with Ben, too. Now I see that. It only takes an instant to change your life forever. Or end your life.”
Jeanette reached for his hand, but he jerked away. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Dad, I don’t pity you,” she said indignantly. “I love you. I’m sorry you’re hurting so much.”
“I’m not in pain,” he snapped.
Though she didn’t believe that, she hadn’t been referring to physical pain. “I meant that your heart is still aching for Ben.”
“Well, of course it is,” he said with annoyance. “He was my son.”
“And you blame yourself for letting him drive that night when the roads had ice on them,” she said with sudden insight. Why had she never realized that before? “Dad, what happened was not your fault. The roads were just fine when we left the house for church. We were already at midnight mass when they iced over.”
“But the steps were slippery when we came out of the service. I knew the roads would be bad and that your brother wasn’t experienced enough to handle it. I should have insisted he leave his car at the church and ride home with us.”
“Dad, stop it!” she said, then reminded him, “Ben had already left by the time we got outside. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing!”
“I was his father,” he argued, growing more agitated. “It was my job to protect him.”
This time when she reached for his hand, she clung to it tightly so he couldn’t jerk away. “Dad, you were the best father anyone could ever have. It was an accident, the same way what happened to you was an accident. You have to let it go.”
He lifted his stricken gaze to hers. “Your mother still blames me.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Jeanette said, then wondered if that was true. Was it possible that her mother had silently blamed her father all these years and that he’d known that?
Was that yet another reason the atmosphere at home had been so tense?
Her father turned away. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“I know this,” she said quietly. “Even if you were the tiniest bit responsible for what happened to Ben—which I don’t believe you were—you have long since paid the price for it. You need to forgive yourself. And if Mom does blame you, then she needs to move on, too.”
Her words were greeted with silence, but then he asked in a voice barely above a whisper, “What about you?”
She stared at him in shock. “Dad, I never blamed you. Not once.”
He regarded her with skepticism. “But you’ve been so angry. You’ve stayed away for years now, except for those visits when you flit in and out like a hummingbird, moving so fast it’s hard to get a glimpse of you.”
Jeanette hadn’t expected to get into any of this, especially not now, but her father had opened a door that had been shut and locked for years. “I stayed away because you and mom acted as if I didn’t matter anymore. It wasn’t enough for you that you still had me. It was all about the son you lost.” She leveled a look into his eyes.
“And don’t you dare think for one second that I didn’t love Ben. It broke my heart when he died. I needed comfort as much as you and Mom did, but neither of you was there for me. I understood that, at least at first. But it never got better.”
She couldn’t seem to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“Do you remember when Ben was alive how we celebrated every birthday, how we always went a little overboard at Christmas?”
Her father nodded, really listening for once.
“After Ben died, I never even had a birthday cake again,”
she said, tears tracking down her cheeks. She swiped at them angrily. “You wouldn’t allow me to put up the Christmas tree, much less play any holiday music in the house. The first year, I got that. I really did, but it went on, year after year, right up until I graduated from high school. We didn’t even celebrate that. I felt as if I was invisible, as if I’d died right along with Ben.”