Forever This Time (5 page)

“Do you—want me to do anything? Get you anything? Do you need stuff at the store or anything?” Josie grasped at ways she could be helpful.

Mom smiled a sad smile. “Ever since I got a Costco membership, your dad jokes that we
never
need anything anymore. You should see the basement.”

Mom stared at her over the little table, quietly assessing her, it seemed. “I'm glad you came, Josie.”

Josie didn't know how to answer. At eight o'clock this morning she'd been sitting in her office preparing for her first client and looking forward to Friday-night margaritas and a movie with her office partner, Kirsten.

At nine o'clock, she'd been shoving clothes into a suitcase and trying to find her car keys while she called a cab to take her to where she kept it parked.

At ten o'clock, she'd finally cleared Boston traffic and was headed northwest to Echo Lake, biting her pinky nail to the quick as she tried to fathom what might be in store.

She took a deep breath. “Thank you for calling me.”

It was the least she could do, right? Thank her mother for giving her a chance to see Dad one last time before he died—if that's what was happening here? Her hands shook as she set down her sandwich and tried to wash the fear down with a slug of Pepsi.

Mom folded her napkin and placed it over her uneaten sandwich. She adjusted it carefully, evening the edges of the napkin with the green piping on the plate. Then she cleared her throat.

“This may not be the time or place, but I have something I need to discuss with you.”

Josie braced herself at the familiar words—words she hadn't heard in ten years, but a phrase she'd heard far too often before then.

She'd been here all of twenty minutes, and here it came. Some sort of assault out of nowhere, just like … always.

But this time delivered by … a stranger—with makeup and a manicure.

 

Chapter 5

“I'm worried about the park.”

Huh?
Josie shook her head, confused. Mom had always felt a lot of things about Camp Ho-Ho, but worry hadn't ever been one of them, not as far back as she could remember. Hate, perhaps. Jealousy, definitely. But worry? No.

“It's going to be beautiful for the next couple of days, and it's the first weekend of August, and I'm sure even after ten years away, you can remember what that means for Snowflake Village.”

Josie grimaced. “Hordes. Multitudes. Throngs.”

“Exactly.” Mom laughed quietly, then drew in a catchy little breath. “And your father's not going to be there to watch over his little kingdom. So I was wondering…” She fiddled with her napkin. “I know I mentioned this on the phone, but I'm not sure what you think. Is there any chance you could help out? Maybe just for the weekend?”

Josie swallowed hard.
No.
“I wasn't sure you were serious about that.”

“I know. It's been a long time.” Mom crumpled her napkin, then smoothed it back out. “But Jos, I know how you feel about the hospital. I'm shocked you even got inside the doors today.”

“Me, too.” Josie's voice was way smaller and more pathetic than she was comfortable with.

“So I can't expect you to sit there in that hideous waiting room, waiting for those random five-minute slots where we can go sit with him.”

Ethan's voice crept into Josie's head. “Isn't that what we're
supposed
to do? I mean, what if something … happens?”

“He's stable. I don't think there's any reason to think he's going to get worse.” Mom blew out a careful breath. “It's just a matter of when he's going to get
better
. And he's going to do that whether you're in the waiting room or not.”

She paused, looking steadily at Josie, her eyes as clear as Josie'd ever seen them. “You'd only be ten minutes from the hospital if I called. You know if he had a choice, he'd love to see you at the park, not sitting at Mercy, wishing you were anywhere else. Plus, he'd absolutely flip out if he thought we'd left Snowflake Village understaffed on one of the busiest weekends of the summer, right?” She tried to smile, but it didn't quite work.

“But—”

“I know. Ethan.”

Josie nodded. Just the sound of his name did strange things to her innards. “Yeah. Ethan.”

“It's been ten years, honey.” Mom's voice was soft, and what was with the endearment? Was she trying to put Josie off-kilter?

Bingo. It was working.

Mom reached her hand toward Josie's, like she was going to touch it, but she pulled back before their fingers met. “That's an awful long time. He's a different man now. He
is
a man now.”

Oh God. Josie
knew
he was a man now. An hour ago she'd seen that with her own eyes, and since then, she hadn't been able to get his face out of her head.

Or the rest of him.

Mom stopped fiddling with her napkin and looked squarely at Josie. “I know it's not my place to have any expectations at all, and I don't. I really don't. I just got to thinking as I sat there this afternoon, that maybe, just maybe for the weekend, you could spend a little time at the park. So you don't have to sit at the hospital.”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Mom pushed back her chair and gathered their plates. “Well, I think I'm going to head back to Mercy. You're welcome to come if you'd like to, but if you just want to take some time and catch your breath, you should do that. Come whenever. Or—don't. You choose, of course.”

She stood awkwardly, like she had something else she wanted to say, but then she turned away, sliding the plates neatly into the dishwasher. “I just put fresh towels on your bed, and everything else is pretty much where it's always been … but let me know if you can't find something.”

“Okay … thanks.” Josie felt completely unbalanced as she sat at the kitchen table, unsure of what to say or do in her own childhood home with her own mother.

Mom closed the dishwasher and leaned against the shelf, staring out the window. “I'm glad you're here, honey.” She took a deep breath, twisting her ring around her finger, then looked directly at Josie. “I'm hoping you'll find it's a much different place than you left.”

*   *   *

Five minutes later, as Mom backed out of the driveway and onto the street, Josie still sat at the table. Who was this calm, measured woman who'd made her a sandwich like she'd been doing it all her life? Who was this nonconfrontational, clear-eyed person whose house—and clothes, and hair—were tidy?

Josie got up from the table and pulled open the drawer that held the trash and recycling bins. She held her breath as she looked into the back bin, but all it held were three Diet Pepsi cans.

Hating herself for doing so, she opened the door into the garage and peered into the huge plastic garbage can that had sat on the landing for thirty-plus years. The cap was on, a clear plastic bag neatly tied to its edges, and when she opened it, all she saw were more Diet Pepsi cans.

She put the cap back on slowly, looking around the garage. No beer cans, no twelve-packs under the stairs, no extra fridge in the corner. She stepped quietly back into the kitchen and closed the door softly, like Mom was listening from the other room.

Old habits.

As she turned off the light and returned to the kitchen, Josie hated the glimmer of hope that brightened her chest for a moment. She'd been here before. She'd hoped before. The bottles had disappeared before. The purple circles under Mom's eyes had disappeared before. The redness in her cheeks had paled before.

But it had always come back.

All of it had always come back.

*   *   *

“Morning, Ethan!” Molly's voice startled Ethan as she came through his office door Saturday morning. She stopped short at Andy's desk and glanced down at the empty chair. “How is he?”

“No word this morning yet, but it's still early.”

“You doing okay here by yourself?”

“So far, but I swear that pile of stuff on his desk is growing when I'm not looking. You're not looking for a third job, are you?”

Molly sat in the side chair at Ethan's desk, crossing her legs and retrieving a file folder from her enormous purple bag. “Let's not think like that yet. It's Andy. Santa, for God's sake. He'll be fine. He'll definitely be fine.”

“Of course he will. I just meant for the weekend.” Ethan pushed back from his desk. “So give me some good news. What's the morning report from Avery's House?” He sipped his coffee, but grimaced when he realized it'd gone cool already. “It's going to be blazing the next couple of days. Did the AC get fixed?”

“All fixed. No roasted patients on the menu this weekend.”

“Guests.”

Molly tipped her head in acknowledgment. “Guests. Sorry.” She looked down at her folder. “Okay, let's see. Tabitha and James checked out yesterday afternoon. Many tears, many hugs, much drama. They
really
didn't want to go.”

“As it should be.” Ethan felt a small smile creep up his cheeks. When he'd created Avery's House as a free getaway for chronically ill kids, his first goal had been that once they arrived, they'd never want to leave. “How was their mom?”

“As good as a mom can be when one twin's headed for another round of chemo and the other's headed for kindergarten, I guess.” Molly's face pulled into a frown, then she blew out a breath and shook her head. “But Tabby's doing well. She really is. Hopefully she'll be done after this round.”

She tapped her finger down her list. “Emmy is checking in today. Just finished her chemo, so the docs in Boston gave her the go-ahead to leave town and have some fun for a couple of weeks. Of course this is the only place she wanted to come.”

“Again, as it should be.” Ethan smiled a real smile this time. “What's this? Her fourth time here?” Although he wasn't supposed to have favorites, he had to admit that Emmy held a special place in his heart. At eight years old, her bright blue eyes and sweet smile felled him every time she stayed in Echo Lake.

His smile faltered as he realized Josie was the only person in the world who'd truly ever understand why.

“Oh, and that reporter from the
Globe
called again. They're doing a feature on unique pediatric care settings. She wants to come up and interview you.”

“I don't have time for interviews right now, Mols. Can't you handle her?”

“Nope. She only wants to talk to you.” Molly raised her eyebrows. “Exposure is money, Ethan. The
Globe'
s got serious reach and cred. That's a lot of potential donors you could be reaching.”

“I know. I know. You're right.”

“Ooh! Can you say that again—but wait till I press record.” Molly dug in her bag and came out with her phone, pointing it playfully at Ethan.

“I'll talk to the reporter. Just not this week. Let's see how things go with Andy.”

Molly dropped her phone back in her bag and closed the manila folder on her lap. “Heard from Josie yet?”

Ethan swallowed hard. “Ye-es. I have.”

Molly slid the folder into her bag, her eyes going wide. “Have you actually seen her?”

“She stopped by last night.”

“Oh. Wow. Here?”

Ethan nodded. “Here.”

“How … was it?”

“Strange. Very strange.”

“How'd she look?” Molly squinted her eyes and pulled down her cheeks. “Myopic? Droopy? Has she aged terribly?”

“Sorry. None of the above. She just looked like Josie. Just all grown up.”

Right.

Molly paused to study his face. “Huh. Well, does all-grown-up Josie plan to come back here today?”

“No.” Ethan cleared his throat as he shifted some papers on his desk. “No, she won't be back. It was just a courtesy visit. Diana sent her over.”

“I can't even imagine.” Molly studied his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. Good.” He tried to summon up his best fake smile, but this was Molly. She saw through him in a second.

“Be careful.” She put up her index finger. “Do
not
be stupid.”

“I have no intention of being stupid. And thank you for your support.”

“Shut up, Ethan. You know how this could go.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Do I?”

Molly tipped her head back on the chair, sighing. “Yes, you do. Princess Josie waltzes in here after fleeing in the dead of night ten years ago, and you're a man, and she's a woman, and way back when, you were in love. Bam.”

“Bam?” He couldn't help but chuckle. “That's it?”

She shook her head as she stood up. “Just be careful, okay? Puh-leeze tell me you'll be careful.”

“Yes, Mom. I'll be careful.”

Ethan bit the inside of his cheek to try to stop from picturing Josie as she'd been yesterday, all flushed and uncomfortable and so damn gorgeous. Yeah, he hated what she'd done ten years ago. And yeah, he hated what he'd become after she'd left.

But damn, he'd never quite gotten around to being able to hate
her.

Molly's voice broke into his thoughts. “I wonder if she'll come around to see
me
while she's here? Y'know, to mend fences and all that.”

“I imagine she has a little more on her mind than mending fences with any of us, Mols.” He shook his head. “But maybe she'll pop into Bellinis for a burger before she takes off again. You never know.”

Molly laughed, low and brittle. “I'm pretty sure that's the last place she'll choose to hang out while she's here. Well, next to Avery's House, that is.”

She looked at him, unblinking. “I mean,
that
is going to be one
hell
of a surprise, don't you think?”