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Authors: Susan X Meagher

BOOK: Homecoming
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“How do you know about that? I know I was good, but I didn’t know the whole town knew how awesome I was.”

“You’re famous. Really,” she insisted. “You’re a professor, right?”

“I taught for a while, but I didn’t make it to professor. I’m at the U now, but I don’t have to tell you that, since you know everything about me.”

“Not everything,” Lizzie admitted, narrowing her gaze. “You came in alone, but I don’t know if you’re married or serious about someone.”

You had to love a woman who cut right to the chase. Lizzie didn’t seem like she was trying to make a guy jealous, and she clearly had the nerve to flirt with a woman. Time to get into the game. “Never married. Not currently serious about anyone.” Putting on her best seductive smile, she added, “But that could change at any minute.”

Lizzie’s head cocked, her pretty auburn hair languidly slipping across a shoulder. “You still prefer the fairer sex, right?”

“Yeah. That’s a pretty strong preference. I’d say it’s a requirement.” She tried to sit up straighter, but it was impossible to do in a friggin’ bean bag. “How do you know that?”


Everyone
knows that.” She waved a hand, then removed her drink from Jill’s hand and tipped it towards her mouth. “Your being gay started the whole mess, you know. If Mark hadn’t had such a crush on you, Lisa wouldn’t have had to yank his leash so hard. It’s sad,” she said, looking a little melancholy. “I don’t think he ever believed you wouldn’t eventually fall for him. So silly.”

“Who
are
you?” Jill asked again, trying to turn so she could face her.

“I already told you. I’m a very interested observer of the goings on in the Davis family.” She pointed towards the opposite wall. “Speaking of which, you need to get across this room and talk to the person who made sure you were invited.”

“I need to go now?”

“You do. But I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.” She grasped Jill’s drink and held it as she tried, unsuccessfully, to stand. “Tim!” Lizzie called out. “Pick Jill up.”

A tall, strawberry-blond man stuck his hand down and nearly ripped Jill’s arm from the socket when he lifted her. Then his arms were around her, hugging her hard. “Jill Henry!” he said, loudly, into her ear. “I’ll be damned.”

When he let her go, she could focus on Mark’s younger brother. “Look who’s turned into a handsome man! How are you, Tim?”

“He’s fine,” Lizzie declared. “Get moving.”

Jill looked down at her for a moment, then found herself doing as she was told, with Tim patting her on the back as she left. She passed Adam, Chris and Donna, more Davis siblings, on the way, but didn’t stop to chat. Clearly, she was under some sort of time crunch. The crowd separated to deposit her right in front of one of her favorite people in the world. “Mrs. Davis,” she said, beaming with delight.

The years had been kind to her. Silver hair had replaced the brown, but her pale blue eyes were as sharp and alert as ever. They still exuded a gentleness that had always made Jill feel she was very much a part of the clan.

“I’ve been waiting for you all night.” She reached out and grasped Jill’s hand, then pulled her close for a kiss on the cheek. Patting the empty space on the sofa, she demanded, “Sit right here, next to Mike.”

How had she missed him? As Jill let herself take in her favorite history teacher, she realized he’d nearly faded away. No longer the hale, hearty, endlessly patient man she’d spent so many hours with, now he was thin, with a sunken chest and a sweater that hung from his bony shoulders. The poor guy couldn’t have been much more than seventy, but he could have passed for eighty—easily. He’d always been a chain-smoker, and the habit had clearly caught up to him. An oxygen tank sat next to the sofa, with little tubes going into his nostrils.

“Jilly,” he said, his voice thin but clear as he took her offered hand and squeezed it. “I knew you’d grow up to be a looker.”

“She was completely grown up the last time you saw her,” Mrs. Davis said, giving him a sidelong glance. “And she’s always been a looker.” She turned to Jill. “Sit right down here and talk to me.”

Jill obeyed, finding herself uncharacteristically easy to boss around tonight.

“Look at this hair,” Mrs. Davis said, touching the ends that had fallen across Jill’s shoulder. “Not a bit of gray. Remember when Bethie used to say your hair was like chocolate pudding?” She laughed. “It still is.”

Jill had no memory of that, but she smiled, then grasped Mrs. Davis’ hand and squeezed it. It was thin, but not much different than it had felt twenty years ago. The woman got most of her calories from baked goods and chocolate, but had always been reed thin. “I’m
so
glad to see you again. Really. It was hard losing Mark, but…” Damn it. She was determined not to cry.

Mrs. Davis’ chin trembled like she was about to cry too. “It was hard for all of us. I wanted to go behind Mark’s back to keep in touch, but that didn’t seem right. You were his friend…technically.”

“I was. But my fondest memories are of being here with the whole family. How many hours did you and Chris and Donna and I play cards at the kitchen table? I still love bridge, thanks to you” She smiled as the memories started to fill her head. “And I still listen to the Red Sox, just like I did with Mr. Davis.”

“Stop with the Mister and Missus. We’re all adults. Call me Janet. Please.”

“I’ll give it a try, Janet,” she said, the name feeling odd on her tongue.

“Good,” she said, her twinkling eyes reflecting the lighthearted approach to life Jill was so fond of. It was fantastic to see that hadn’t dimmed.

“Tell me about your life. I know you teach, right?”

“Not exactly,” Jill said. “I did for a while, after I got my master’s in public administration. But I’ve been on the administrative side at the U for a long time.”

“I never thought about a university needing anything but teachers.”

Jill knew she was teasing. Janet was as sharp as a tack, and very aware of things that were outside of her experience. “Yeah, they need a few of us around. It’s a good job,” Jill said. “But, like any job, it’s a lot of work.”

“And you don’t get summers off. Your favorite time of the year.”

“No, I definitely do not,” she said, charmed that Mrs. Davis,
Janet
, recalled that about her. “But I’m not complaining. Summer’s pretty slow. I can take enough time off to keep myself happy.”

“And when you take this time off, who do you spend it with?”

Her silver hair showed off her sparkling blue eyes more than her formerly brown hair did, and the lines that had formed around her eyes and mouth somehow gave her features more definition.

“Right now? My friends. A year ago? My girlfriend.”

Janet patted her leg fondly. “Who’d let a beauty like you go?”

“Actually, I let her go,” Jill admitted, feeling a little embarrassed to admit that.

Without a word, Janet urged Jill to continue. Her level gaze just made you want to talk. “We got along fine a lot of the time. But when we had trouble…” She tried to think of a quick way to characterize her last relationship, but couldn’t manage it. “We couldn’t work our way through a single problem.”

Leaning forward, Janet caught her husband’s attention. “You can’t live a life filled with only sunny days, right Mike?”

“Right,” he agreed, nodding like he’d heard what led up to her comment, which he couldn’t have.

Janet patted her leg. “I’m surprised you’re still on the market, kiddo. You’ve got a big heart, a big brain, and a good temperament. That’s a tough slate to beat.”

“I’m pretty picky,” she admitted. “But I’m going to buckle down and search a little harder. Most of my friends are married or serious about someone, and it’d be nice to be partnered again.” She looked out at the group, seeing various members of the Davis family threading through the crowd. “Are all of your kids married?”

“Almost. Beth’s the only holdout.”

“She’s too young to get married,” Jill scoffed. “Actually, I can’t imagine her dating.”

“Oh, she dates, but she’s single at the moment. All of the other chickadees have feathered their nests. Only Donna and Kristen left Vermont, so we’ve got a raft of grandchildren nearby.” She leaned forward again. “How many grandkids do we have in Vermont?”

Mike furrowed his brow, thinking. “Eleven?”

“Yes,” Janet agreed. “Eleven. We were out of our minds having seven kids.” She threw her head back and laughed. “Can you imagine? We
caused
climate change.”

“You had some help,” Jill teased. “How many do Mark and Lisa have?”

“Three.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t know how they do it. Lisa doesn’t work, and Mark’s only got the shop.”

“Shop?”

“Didn’t you know? He took over the blacksmith shop years ago.”

“He’s Mr. Rooney?” Jill thought her eyes would bug out of her head, images of the ancient, gruff blacksmith of her youth flooding her mind. Even thirty years ago he sat around most of the day, and there were still quite a few workhorses around back then. How much business could there be now?

“Why don’t you know these things? Doesn’t your mother keep you up on the news?”

“No, she really doesn’t,” Jill admitted. She could have gone on, but there was no need. It was kind of nice that Janet thought her mom was interested in acknowledging other people in town and might care enough to recount their adventures.

“How’s she getting on?”

“My mom? She’s all right.”

“We don’t see her in church any more. It’s been
years
.”

“Yeah, she stopped going a while ago.” She shrugged. Another fact she had a tough time explaining. “She just stopped.”

“I’ve asked around, but no one seems to know if she’s ill or what.”

“No, she’s not ill.” Jill twitched under the questioning. “I guess she’s happier at home.”

Janet frowned, her probing eyes seeming like they were able to ferret out all of Jill’s secrets. “She’s not very old, honey. Isn’t she only around sixty?”

“Sixty-two in June. My dad’s turning sixty-five soon. I guess he needs to start thinking about retirement.”

Trying to move the focus from her mother didn’t work. Janet’s pointed questioning continued. “I know your dad’s gone a lot. Does your mom have anyone come by to check on her? We could arrange something at church, you know. We visit about two dozen people every day.”

“No, no, she doesn’t need that.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “My dad’s around most of the time, and she’s not much for visitors.” Now
that
was an understatement. “But I’ll tell her you mentioned it.”

“All right, honey.” She leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I sure have missed you. With so many of my own kids, it hardly makes sense that I have the time, but I always felt particularly close to you.”

“Me too, Janet. I’d love to reconnect and spend some time with you.”

“Then stop in when you’re down here. You don’t have to call first. We’re always home.”

“I will.” She shifted nervously. “But I’m not down very often.” She was tempted to say that her mother’s dislike of visitors extended to her, but she hated to beg for sympathy. “I’d like to find the birthday boy at some point. And say hi to all of the other kids.”

“You’ve got to keep moving if you want to get them all in. Beth held onto you too long.”

“Beth?”

Janet laughed, then leaned forward and said, “Jill didn’t recognize Beth, Mike.”

“That was Beth?” Now she was certain her eyes would pop out. Beth was a snot-nosed little kid who idolized her older brother and could never understand why he—and Jill spent most of their youth evading her. When they had to keep an eye on a younger sibling, they’d always called dibs on Adam or Tim, leaving the older girls to try to keep Beth at bay.

“Yes, that’s my baby. I think she’s half in the bag. She’s been down in the dumps, and it looks like she’s taking advantage of the fact that she doesn’t have to drive home.” She patted Jill on the back, giving her a slight shove. “Go keep an eye on her will you, honey?”

“Sure. But if you see Mark…”

“I’ll send him your way.” Janet pulled her close and kissed her cheek again. “Come see me. Promise.”

“I do promise,” she said soberly. “And I always keep my promises.”

“Go,” Janet urged. “She’s getting up for more ice. Take her for a walk or something.”

“I’m on it.” Jill got to her feet and tried to get her emotions in check. Seeing Janet again had brought up so many feelings, she didn’t have anywhere to put them all. As she moved across the room she did an emotional double-take. She’d thought Beth was hitting on her! The little squirt was still fucking with her all these years later.

After forcefully pushing through the crowd, she intercepted Mark’s little sister as she was filling up her glass with ice. “Hey,
Beth
,” she said pointedly. “You knew I didn’t recognize you!”

“Sure did,” she said, smirking. “Not my fault you didn’t know I’d changed my name.”

“Your parents don’t seem to know either,” Jill pointed out.

“Eh. They forget. You know how parents are. Want a refill?”

“Not right now. Hey, will you help me find Mark? I’m driving back to Burlington tonight and I want to make sure I have a few minutes with him.”

“All right. But you’d better not try to pawn me off on one of my sisters. I know your tricks.” They struggled through the main floor, finding themselves in the spacious kitchen, where a cold breeze blew in around the ill-sealed door. “Let’s take a breather. It’s stifling in here.”

“Let me get my coat.”

“Take one of these,” she said, going down a couple of stairs.

The entryway was, as it had been twenty years ago, covered with coats hanging from hooks. Jill didn’t know if guests or family members had hung this particular bunch here, but she quickly found a parka that fit. Beth put on a big, dark wool coat that had to have been one of the boys’.
Lizzie. She wants to be called Lizzie.
“I’m right behind you.”

As they went out into the moonless night, they had to pass through a clique of smokers huddled close to the house. Heading for fresh air, Jill could hear the river and knew they were just a few yards away from the fourteenth hole. Her heart rate picked up and she headed right for it, even in the dark. Her hand caught the net, hearing the reassuring clink as the metal strands collided. “God, we had fun playing Frisbee golf.”

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