Softly and Tenderly (8 page)

“Jade? Sorry to call so late, or rather early, but it’s Colleen Millay.”

“Colleen, hey.” Jade clicked on her seat belt.

“Are you home? I tried your home number.”

“We had an emergency in the city. Some kid crashed through the Blue Two.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is everyone all right?”

“No one was hurt except the shop.”

“Well then, let the bad news continue. You have an emergency at home in Whisper Hollow too.”

If she weren’t so tired, she’d fill the tub with warm water, set the jets on high, and let the gurgles and bubbles drown her tears. But she needed to put Mama to bed.

“Please, just get in bed.”

“I’m not crazy.” Mama shrugged off Jade’s assistance as she lifted a knee to the bed. “I heard the kittens crying, and I went down to feed them.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Do they know it’s three in the morning? They were hungry. Their bowls were empty.” Mama fell against the pillows, the hue of the lamplight revealing her pale complexion and the red rings circling her eyes.

“Why did you go out there without your coat or shoes?”

“My slippers are too warm. Aiden brought those things to me after his last trip to Alaska. A very cold Eskimo must have made them. Have you seen the lining?”

“I get it, Mama.” Jade tucked the blankets in around her. “You’re shivering. Do you want hot tea or cocoa?”

“You think I’m losing it, don’t you, Jade-o?” Mama pressed her hand over her heart and regarded Jade with shining eyes. “I tell you, I heard them mewing. I had to make sure they were all right. Colleen Millay doesn’t always keep that mutt of hers under control. I’ve seen him harass the kitties.”

Oh, Mama
. Jade crawled into bed with her, nestling Mama’s head against her shoulder, kissing her cheek. “Colleen’s little schnauzer isn’t going to hurt the kitties. I promise.”

Mama seemed like her old self now, but when she and Max whipped into the driveway, Mama was wandering in the front yard, scattered and disoriented.

“Well, then where’s Roscoe? Your dog?”

“Max and I had to put Roscoe down. Remember?” Jade said. “He lived a good life.”

“But now you have kittens. Yes, you have all those kittens. So innocent, kittens, aren’t they?”

“That’s why we made a home for the stray mama and her babies on the back porch.”

“Tell me about the kittens.” Mama’s sigh indicated she was finding peace. “Again.”

“Okay, well, as you know I was busy opening the Blue Two, wondering if I’d ever have my own baby, and one day I came home and there they were, a mama tabby and her babies. She looked up at me with those golden eyes, and I knew she came to rescue me more than to be rescued. Next thing I knew I had three or four cat families, and six big bowls of food lined up on the back porch with water and cat houses.”

When she looked down, Mama’s cheeks were soaked.

“Why are you crying?” Jade dried her tears with the edge of her sleeve. “The kitties are fine. We take good care of them. Got the mamas fixed and took about twelve cats to the vet last year.” A day that required all hands on deck: Max, Lillabeth, and June. “Even found homes for a few of the kittens.”

“I want to go home.” Mama wiped her nose with a handkerchief she kept on her nightstand. “I’ve loved being here with you, Jade-o, but I miss the Iowa plains, the smell of sunburnt prairie grass, my friends, my home, my bed, even miss that passel of dogs Willow used to have. I’m sad now she had to give them all away. That little Jack Russell, Pepper, was something else.”

“Now what are you going to do in Prairie City, rattling around that cold, creaky farmhouse? And Willow found good homes for those dogs. She couldn’t go to college otherwise.”

“That don’t change what I said . . .” Mama brushed her hand over Jade’s hair, and the confusion of the woman wandering the lawn seemed to dissipate. “You’re not going to want to hear this, Jade-o, but it’s time to go home to die.”

“Die? What kind of talk is that, dying? You’re just overtired and still worked up over the cats.” Jade crawled off the bed, but Mama caught her hand.

“Jade-o.” Mama gently squeezed her fingers. “I want to die at home.”

Jade tugged her hand free. “I’m not going to let you live and die alone, Mama. You can’t drive!”

“I can’t drive a Midwest Parcel truck, but I can certainly drive Paps’s old pickup.”

“Does it even run anymore?” Jade dropped to the side of the bed and peered into Mama’s eyes. “You can’t live alone.”

“Now you listen to me, Jade Benson. My mother never could tell me what to do once I came of age, and she had a hard time before too, so give it up. You’re not going to keep me from dying where I choose.”

It was too late, or perhaps too early, at four in the morning, to have this conversation. Jade’s thin patience leaked through her skin and settled into her weary muscles.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” Maybe.

“Linc can help me, Jade. He’s always been a good help to me. And I have enough to pay him.” Mama held Jade’s face with her hands. “I want to go home. Please.”

Jade tucked Mama’s blanket around her. “We’ll see.” When Mama had landed in Whisper Hollow last summer, Jade couldn’t wait for her to go home. Now she didn’t want her to leave. They’d painted this room together—a comforting pinkish white—and shopped for new curtains and bed linens. Jade made space in her life for her mother, taking her to doctor appointments, to dinner, to movies, and to club parties. And in the course of doing what was right, Jade made space for Mama in her heart. If she went home, who would fill that hole?

“How about if Max and I drive you home once I get the Blue Two squared away, and—”

“And when would that be? No, no, I’m not waiting until you decide the Blue Two is done. I’ll call Aiden to come get me.”

“What?”
Stubborn old broad
. “He’s in Alaska until May. And don’t say you’ll call Willow because she’s not flying fifteen hundred miles just to drive you nine hundred miles to Prairie City.” In February, Jade’s baby sister had taken a hiatus from college and left for a Guatemalan orphanage, joining a humanitarian organization as a medical aid worker.

“I’ll find someone.” Mama nodded her head, eyes closed, chin set. “Hire someone . . . take the Greyhound.”

“Take a bus? You are a crazy old woman. How about I ask Max for the company jet?” Mama hated to fly, even on a private jet.

“Why don’t you just bury me alive, Jade-o? I’d enjoy that about the same.” Mama clutched her fist to her chest. “My heart wants to be home. Take me, Jade, please.”

All right, she heard. Mama’s plea tapped her heart like the mew of the kittens. But she couldn’t just load up and go. She had the Blue Umbrella and the Blue Two, which at the moment sported a big hole. Last but not least, Max’s parents’ marriage was in a tilt-a-whirl. Jade considered how he might need her in the coming weeks and months.

“Mama, can we go to sleep for now? Talk in the morning?” Jade stooped to kiss her cheek and clicked off the lamp. “Sweet dreams.”

“I could hitchhike,” Mama said in the dark. “End my days like they began, on the open road, looking for the next ride.”

“Times have changed, Mama. It’s not the summer of love, Woodstock, or a Washington rally. And you’re not twentysomething anymore.” Jade hesitated by the door. “The world’s lost what innocence remained.”

“Rats, I was hoping all of this was a dream.” Mama’s breathing ladened her words with sleep.

“Sorry, it’s all reality.”

“But it’s been good, hasn’t it? Most of it, my life?”

Jade propped against the door, her shoulder cutting into the swath of hall light, hearing what Mama was too shy to ask. “It’s been good, Mama. You had a lot of adventures.”

“I did, didn’t I? Lots of . . . adventures. But you know the best part?”

“What’s the best part?”

“You, Jade-o. You.”

Six

At the sound of the bells, Jade expected to see Lillabeth coming in from her UT-Chattanooga classes, ready to take over the Blue Umbrella for the afternoon.

Instead, June’s coiffed and manicured form shot through the shop followed by Rebel. Her heels resounded up the stairs.

Jade winced, softly hanging the last ’70s granny dresses on the antique rack she used for special displays.

“I’ve given you almost two weeks.” Rebel’s heavy words drifted through the wood and plaster, falling into the shop. Thank goodness the place was empty except for the cloak of afternoon sun splashing through the front pane. “Plenty of time to stop being angry. What are people—”

“I’ve stopped caring, Rebel. Stopped. Caring.” The loft door slammed.

A couple of women entered the shop. Jade smiled, hoping the rabble upstairs was settling down.

Another door slammed. A voice rumbled. The startled women gazed toward the ceiling.

“Ladies, have you seen the granny dresses? Up front, by the window.” Jade motioned, smiling. When the ladies started parsing through the display, Jade scurried on tiptoe up the stairs.

Pausing at the loft’s door, listening to feet shuffling over the hardwood, Jade stiffened, bracing for a . . . what? A smack? A crash? Would Reb become violent?

After a thick moment of silence, Jade knocked. “June?”

The door swung open. “The man’s impossible. He refuses to listen. Has cotton in his ears. Tell him, Jade.” June left the door ajar and curved around the wall into the kitchen.

Jade hesitated, not wanting to become a pawn in this game.

Rebel caught her eye. “Well? Are you going to tell me?”

Jade peered back down the stairs. “Look, Reb, this isn’t any of my business.”

“Sure it is. You’re aiding and abetting my wife. So?” Reb jammed his hands into his pockets with jocular confidence. “What is it I need to know?”

Jade loved Reb. He had embraced her like a father from the very beginning, but she’d glimpsed his defense lawyer temperament and he could intimidate.

“She thinks you’re on her like a hound on the hunt.” If she’d learned anything, Rebel respected strength.

The skin around his eye crinkled, but his lips remained sober.

“By the way, you’re in my shop, so keep your voices down. I can hear every word and footstep.”

“Sorry to have disturbed you.” Rebel’s slacks gracefully fell into place as he stood. His silver and black hair was thick and neat, and his jaw had the strength of a younger man. He looked regal. Like the leader of a great Southern law firm.

Not at all like the weak man Jade had caught cheating on his wife.

“Haven’t you left yet?” June appeared at the edge of the kitchen, her face locked with determination, her arms folded like an X across her middle.
Keep
out
. The small loft was filled with large resentment.

“Call me,” Rebel said, slightly stepping toward her as if he wanted to kiss her. Jade stared at her shoes.

“Not this time, Reb. Not this time.”

With a lingering glance at his wife, Rebel passed Jade, lightly pressing her arm as he started down the stairs. “Tom tells me you’re in an insurance battle. Over the downtown shop.”

“Apparently the Danica Patrick wannabe didn’t realize You Buy It insurance company was no longer licensed to practice in the greater Chattanooga area.”

“I’ll check in with Tom. See if he needs help. I’ve got some friends at the insurance commission.”

Sure he did. Reb had all kinds of friends. “Thanks,” Jade said, feeling like she was consorting with the enemy. But this wasn’t her fight. It was June’s.

As Rebel’s footsteps faded away, June emerged from the kitchen, hot anger trailing her. “He can’t find anything at the house, so he comes crying to me.” She fluffed the couch pillows. “‘Junie, I miss you. I can’t find the popcorn. We’re all out of almonds. I can’t find any of the good movies.’”

Jade rested against the open door, one ear to the women still browsing downstairs. Lillabeth should be along in the next few minutes.

“Did he apologize? Give you a reason for being with Claire?”

“Of course not. He tries to brainwash me into thinking I’m overreacting. Tells me she means nothing to him. Well, it means something to me.” June kicked the coffee table leg. Hard. “And I’m not going to take it anymore.”

“Just how long have you been taking it?” Jade scooted down a few steps and peered under the slanted wall into the shop. The women were perusing the vintage vinyl. “My name is Jade, if you need anything, ladies.”

They turned, smiled, and nodded, square album covers in their hands.

“I thought . . . if I just hung in there . . . showed him I was sincere, that I wasn’t going anywhere, he’d—”

“What do you mean, you weren’t going anywhere?” Jade leaned to see into June’s eyes, but she kept her gaze fixed on an image not in the room.

June shook her head slowly. Strands of her blonde hair stood on end. Green eye shadow ran into the corner of her eyes. “I’m tired of paying.” She lifted her hand and fiddled with the pearls of her necklace. “Simply tired.”