Pieces of the Heart (39 page)

Caroline’s hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped the journal. She should stop reading. It wasn’t hers and it was never intended to be read by her. But she felt as if she were driving by an accident in slow motion, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking. She turned the page, realizing that there had been a huge gap in time when Shelby hadn’t written in her journal, and began reading again.

Caroline looked up from the journal, dry-eyed.
Oh, Shelby, what did you do?
And then she thought of her mother, being a grandmother all these years and not knowing it, and of Drew.
Drew!
What would this do to him?

Caroline closed the journal and stood. She’d bring it with all of Jewel’s things, not willing to leave the journal there where anybody could find it.

As if in slow motion, she moved to the dresser and took out a few changes of clothes and stacked them on top of the journal. Then she moved to the closet to pull out a clean pair of jeans. When she tugged on the closet door it stuck, and she realized something had been shoved on the floor of the closet and was now caught between the bottom of the door and the carpet. After a lot of pulling and cursing, Caroline finally got the door open.

She glanced at the bottom of the closet to determine what it had been and felt the breath leave her lungs in a loud whoosh when she spotted the quilt. Kneeling, she picked it up, recognizing the red-and-blue border even after all this time. She sank both hands into the soft cotton, holding on to it as if she’d finally found her long-lost brother. With a wary heart, she brought it over to the bed to get a better look at it.

She saw the first three rows that she’d done, the ones with his baby blanket, a football jersey with the number 02 on the back, and a brown cutout of a football that read HPHS 1992 on it. But now there were more rows completed, nearly filling the entire quilt except for two rows on the bottom. Looking closer, she recognized one of her swimming photos silk-screened onto a square, and a picture of her at Shelby’s sixteenth-birthday party.
Where did these come from?
She sat back, trying to recall a conversation she’d had recently about Shelby’s birthday party photo. She stared hard at the quilt, seeing one of the place mats she’d made in the last few weeks and an appliqué of one of her swimming trophies made from a bathing suit.

Jewel.
Caroline suddenly recalled the snippets of conversations she’d had with Drew, her mother, and Rainy about little things that had suddenly been misplaced. And here, on Jude’s quilt, were most of the missing items.
But why?

She picked it up again and buried her face into her brother’s quilt, with her own stitches intermingling with Jewel’s, somehow connecting her brother’s life with her own in one flawless transition. She studied her brother’s portion, at all the things he loved and held dear—and then moved her gaze to the unfinished section symbolizing her own life unlived.

Jewel,
she thought again, feeling an urgency to see her, to work out all the confusion from the journal and the quilt that were fighting for space in her brain.
And Drew.
What was she going to tell Drew?

Quickly she wrapped up Jewel’s clothes and Shelby’s journal inside the quilt, throwing the teddy bear on top as an afterthought, and let herself out of the house. She’d take the second car and leave the Cadillac in case Margaret decided to come on her own in the morning. First she needed to write her mother a note to let her know where she had gone, and then she was driving to the hospital in Atlanta as fast as she could go.

S
HE REACHED THE HOSPITAL SHORTLY AFTER MIDNIGHT, BUT THE bright lights and activity inside gave no nod to the late hour. Parking as close to the bustling entrance as she could and leaving everything in the trunk of her mother’s car, she ran inside, worry and panic pushing her forward to the reception desk. She focused on Jewel instead of the hated hospital green and the sound of her footsteps on the linoleum and the smells of the hospital that always reminded her of her long stay there thirteen years before. She fought her fears and her memories all the way up to the third level and the waiting room where she found Drew.

She walked into his open arms without a word, giving as much comfort with her own arms as she was getting from his. Laying her head on his chest, she asked, “Where’s Rainy?”

“She was exhausted and Jewel’s stabilized, so I sent her to a hotel to get some sleep. I think she’s more worried about Jewel than she was about her own cancer.”

“Sounds like Rainy.”

They both smiled as Drew led her to a bright orange vinyl couch next to a coffee table littered with parenting magazines and children’s books with missing covers.

“How is she, Drew? How is Jewel?” His hair stood up in front as if he’d spent several hours pressing his hands against his forehead.

“The doctors say she should be fine. Brain surgery is never easy, but she’s young and healthy and they don’t anticipate any problems. She’s scheduled for seven o’clock in the morning.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad I came tonight, then. I’m not going to leave until it’s over—if you’ll let me.”

He nodded and she squeezed his hand tighter.

He swallowed, then said, “I told Jewel that I had asked you to go get a few of her things from her room and bring them. She got real agitated when I told her that, but wouldn’t tell me why. But she insisted on talking to you before her surgery.”

“Oh.” It was her turn to swallow. “Will we have time?”

“Not likely. But one of her nurses just came in and told me Jewel was fighting sleep until she could speak with you. She said if you arrived before it was time to prep her for surgery, that she would let you talk to her.” He looked at her closely. “Do you have any idea what is so important that she needs to tell you?”

Caroline nodded. “I do. But it’s between Jewel and me, okay?”

“Is it about the furniture? She already told me that it was her idea to take the pictures and send them.”

She gave an unexpected laugh.
If only it were that simple.
“No. I’m sure it’s not.”

He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again she saw the determined lawyer with all emotions stored away someplace safe.

He held out his hand. “Come on, then. Let me take you to the nurses’ station and they can bring you to Jewel’s room.”

She could tell how much this was hurting him, and she wanted to offer him some assurance. They stood and she took his offered hand. “She loves you very much, you know.”

His jaw clenched; then he nodded once before leading her to the nurses’ station.

The nurse pushed open the door to Jewel’s room and put her finger to her lips as she indicated the closed drapery partition in the middle of the room hiding Jewel’s sleeping roommate.

Jewel’s eyelids were heavy but her eyes remained open and focused on Caroline as she approached the hospital bed. The nurse had pulled up a chair and Caroline took it, reaching for Jewel’s hand.

The nurse held her hand up. “Five minutes,” she whispered before leaving, closing the door softly behind her.

Caroline leaned forward. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. My head still hurts—just not as much.”

“Good.” She waited for Jewel to speak again, listening to the silence filled with hums and whirs of the machines that measured and dosed, and haunted the far reaches of her own memories.

“Did you read the journal?”

Caroline hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes.”

“Good. I was hoping you did. Did you hide it?”

“Well, I brought it with me, in case you wanted it.”

“Don’t . . . don’t tell my dad, okay?” Jewel’s hand curled into her own, pressing the closely clipped nails into her palm.

“He needs to know, Jewel. He needs to know the truth.”

“I know. But I want to tell him myself.” She closed her eyes briefly, and Caroline watched as a tear made its way down the young girl’s cheek. “Promise me that if something happens tomorrow, I want you to tell him something. I want you to tell him that no matter what, he’s my dad. That knowing the truth hasn’t changed anything for me. And tell him . . . tell him I love him.”

Caroline felt the door open behind her and she stood. Leaning over Jewel and avoiding the IV line, she kissed her on the forehead. “You’re going to be fine, Jewel. You can tell him yourself, okay?” A tear fell on Jewel’s cheek and she realized it was her own.

Caroline straightened but Jewel pulled her back. “Did you see the quilt?”

“Yes.” She smiled weakly. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah—it was hard keeping it from everybody.”

“But why, Jewel? Why did you think you needed to finish it? And why not tell anybody?”

“Miss? You need to leave now.” The nurse had the door open wide.

Caroline held up her hand, then turned back to Jewel. “Why?”

She looked up at Caroline with those eyes that had always seemed so out of place in such a young face. “I found the quilt in her trunk a few months ago, and when I heard you talking with your mom about it, I knew what it was and I figured my mom took it after Jude died for some reason. And she wanted me to finish it. It’s weird . . . but sometimes I feel her with me and I can hear her talking to me as if she were really there. I think that’s how I figured out about . . . Jude’s heart.”

She looked up at Caroline to gauge her reaction, but Caroline just nodded. Jewel continued. “I think she wanted to show you something and you wouldn’t understand it until I was finished with the quilt. Does that make sense?”

Caroline shook her head and straightened. “I’m not sure.”

“Miss, you really need to leave now.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” She brushed Jewel’s hair off her forehead and forced a smile. “Get some sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”

Jewel gave her a thumbs-up and Caroline answered with her own, then left the room with the impatient nurse close on her heels.

She found Drew sitting on the same vinyl couch, his head in his hands. He looked up when she entered and she made herself smile. “She’s fine. Just needed to get a few things off her chest, that’s all.

She’ll talk to you about it soon.” She looked into his eyes and knew that whatever Jewel told him, it would all be okay. Whatever wrongs had been done were in the past and they had been done in the name of love. They would survive. All of them.

He nodded, and she noticed how the cheek stubble and messy hair only added to his appeal. It was just one of the things that drew her to him, including how he made her laugh and how he loved his daughter.

“When you packed her things, did you get her teddy bear? It was one of the things she asked about.”

“Yes—I left it in the car with her clothes. Do you want me to go get it?”

“No, I don’t want you going out there again in the dark.”

“Drew, they might need you for Jewel. Don’t worry—I parked near the entrance under a light. I’ll be fine.”

His mouth formed a thin line. “Thanks. But be careful. And if you’re out there too long, I’m calling out a search party.”

“Yes, Mom. I’ll hurry.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I threw a couple of pillows in, too, just in case. I’ll get them and maybe we can get a little sleep.”