Home Before Dark

by Susan Wiggs

  CHAPTER 34

  “You look terrified,” said Dusty, slowing the car as he drove Jessie down the last incline to Broken Rock.

  “Well, duh.”

  “Duh,” said Amber, wedged into her car seat.

  “This is a mistake,” said Jessie, tamping down a flutter of panic.

  “No,” Arnufo said, from the back seat beside Amber. “If you had not agreed to come back here, your bossy sister would have come for you with the reata.”

  Jessie slid her hand across the seat of the new-smelling car and found Dusty’s thigh. The roomy car was just one of the adjustments he’d made for her sake. A car could accommodate Jessie and Flambeau in addition to Amber and her car seat.

  My God, she thought. What sort of man could love like that, with such certainty?

  She knew what he was pushing her to do. She couldn’t commit to him, to anyone or anything, until she fixed things with her family. She wasn’t sure she could do that. For the first time in her life, though, she was ready to try.

  As a car inched down the hill, she said, “So tell me what I’m getting into here.”

  “It’s all set up for a party on the deck,” Dusty said. “There’s a banner that says Welcome Home Jessie strung from the live oak, and there are helium balloons tied to pretty much everything. I guess your folks are staying in the big cabin. Looks as though cabin number two has been made up for you.”

  Jessie braced her hand flat against the dashboard. “Wait a second. I assumed I would be spending the weekend with you.”

  Dusty stroked her cheek. “I don’t want to spend the week end with you.” Before she could reply, he added, “I was thinking of something more along the lines of your whole life.”

  She couldn’t speak. Her mind bounced everywhere. In his aw-shucks, good-old-boy way, Dusty was as stubborn as she was. He was the only person she’d ever met who would not be manipulated by her.

  Arnufo made a grunt of satisfaction. Somewhere outside, Beaver barked and Flambeau snapped to attention. “Easy, girl,” Jessie said.

  “The coonhound is confined to the dog run,” Dusty said. “Okay, now everyone’s coming out onto the porch. They’re all smiling.”

  “Luz, too?”

  “Yeah. Luz, too.”

  Jessie and Luz had spoken on the phone the previous night. They’d finally told Lila she was adopted and Ian was her natural father. Jessie had no idea how to feel about this news. That was what she’d come here for last fall, but now that it was done, she didn’t know how she felt. She had asked Luz how Lila took the disclosure.

  “She took it. Nothing I do or say thrills her these days, you know that. But her head didn’t explode or anything. Just come home. You need to see her. And Mom’s dying to see you.”

  “Your mother looks exactly like she does on TV,” Dusty said. “I guess that’s her husband in the chair beside her.”

  “Stuart. She married him in Vegas a few years ago. I’ve never met him.”

  He parked the car and Amber babbled with excitement while Arnufo got her out of her seat. The baby had grown so much during Jessie’s absence. But Amber remembered her. The moment Dusty had put her in Jessie’s arms, she’d clung with innocent and absolute trust.

  Jessie had decided to have a sighted guide rather than make Flambeau work during her visit. All the new people and excitement were enough for the dog to handle. She opened the passenger door and stood, then let the dog out, feeling the strong body pour out onto the ground. Flambeau paused at her side, alert and awaiting orders. “It’s okay, girl,” Jessie said, and turned toward the house. The weather had taken a sudden turn, and warm currents of springtime rode the air.

  “Ready?” Dusty offered his arm. Then he all but shoved her forward.

  She could hear everyone shuffle their feet in nervous anticipation, and she wanted to scream at them. She thought of the last time she’d shown up here, breaching Luz’s fortress against the world, whirling into their lives after a fifteen-year absence. She pictured them standing there, all lined up along the porch, probably holding their breath. Beside her, Flambeau made distinct chuffing noises, and in his dog run, Beaver bayed deeply.

  “You hush,” yelled a voice. Luz.

  Jessie’s palms were drenched in sweat. She wanted—needed—to pray but only the most childish of thoughts streamed out. Please God, get me through this.

  The screen door of the porch opened with a creak and shut with a snap.

  The idea of this whole family waiting for her, paralyzed by uncertainty, made Jessie burst out laughing to keep from crying. “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she said, holding out one arm. “If somebody doesn’t speak up, I’m going to run smack into you and then you’ll be sorry.”

  She heard footsteps. Two strong hands closed around hers and Jessie felt herself pulled into her sister’s arms. Luz. Oh God, Luz. Jessie’s throat went tight as she hugged her sister.

  “You idiot,” said Luz, hanging on. “You crazy old thing. I cannot believe you went away like that and never said a word.”

  “Sure you can,” Jessie whispered. “It’s my specialty.”

  “That’s going to change.”

  “Why are you crying, Mom?” asked Scottie.

  The sound of her littlest nephew’s voice filled Jessie with sweetness. Pulling away from Luz, she found his slightly sticky hand and squatted down beside him. “I made her sad because I was so naughty,” she explained. “But now I’m really sorry and she’s going to forgive me. Are you mad at me, too, Scottie?”

  “Mom said you can’t see me.”

  “That’s right.”

  “How can you see how big I am?”

  She grinned. “That’s easy.” Taking him in her arms, she stood and lifted him off the ground. He smelled of canned soup and washing powder. “Wow, you’re gigundo.”

  “Can I play with your dog? Mom said I have to ask.”

  She set him down. “Flambeau loves being petted, and when she’s not helping me, it’s fine.”

  The dog emitted a moan of ecstasy. Jessie put out her hand to Luz. Together, they went to see the others, dispensing hugs made awkward by nerves. When she filled her arms with Lila, Jessie tried to detect something, anything to hint at what Lila thought of all this. But there were too many people milling around, too much going on. Later, she told herself, and was glad she was going to stay the night, after all. Why was Dusty always so smart about things like this?

  “Glenny,” she said, hugging her mother for the first time in years.

  Time melted away, and she found herself surrounded by familiarity. Charlie perfume, Certs and a sweet husky whisper saying, “There’s my girl.”

  Her mother’s hands bore the familiar calluses of her sport, yet her skin was papery and more delicate than Jessie remembered.

  “This is my husband, Stuart.” Her mother guided her hand to a large masculine one.

  “Good to meet you at last,” he said, and she recognized his pleasant, southern-California voice from the telephone. Oddly he didn’t get up to greet her. She found out why a moment later when Flambeau went crazy sniffing and Stuart seemed to glide backward. Her mother grabbed her arm to steady her.

  Jessie frowned. “Are you in a wheelchair?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t—”

  “No, that’s okay. I didn’t know. Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Ten years ago. I’m fine now.”

  Jessie wondered how he could be fine if he’d been in a wheelchair for ten years.

  Dusty came and kissed Jessie on the cheek. “I’m taking off,” he said. “I put all your stuff in your room.”

  “Pah.” Amber leaned toward Jessie and planted a wet kiss on her chin.

  “Pah to you, too,” Jessie said. “I can’t believe you’re depriving me of this amazing child.”

  “I’ll be back in the morning. You’ve got plenty here to keep you busy.”

  God, he knew. But he was not going to stick around and hold her hand through this. That w
as the thing about Dusty. He made no apologies for forcing her to do this on her own.

  She felt one more kiss, whispering across her lips, and then he was gone.

  Jessie could tell the entire family was trying not to act chaotic around her. She imagined Luz calling a meeting to tell everyone that she was blind and needed a calm environment for her and her dog. They had worked on this at the Beacon. Students were prepared for the reaction of friends and family. But they’d lied. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

  After supper, Ian, Stu and the boys went to liberate poor old Beaver and have a game of Frisbee up the hill. Jessie, her mother, her sister and Lila sat on the deck overlooking the lake.

  “Dinner was unbelievable, Luz,” said Jessie, leaning back in an Adirondack chair and patting her stomach. “Those twice-baked potatoes— Lord, you outdid yourself. And chocolate sheet cake. My teeth are singing.”

  “Lila made the cake,” Glenny pointed out.

  “It was the best cake I’ve ever had.”

  “You don’t have to say that,” Lila replied.

  “Not unless I mean it,” said Jessie. She sensed a lingering suspicion and resentment from Lila.

  “You’ve lost weight,” Luz said. “I don’t want you getting too skinny.”

  “I haven’t been dieting on purpose,” Jessie said, allowing her sister to deflect the confrontation—for now. “Four of the eight people in my training group at the Beacon were diabetic so they didn’t serve a lot of sweets. After I finished and moved off-campus, I was cooking for myself. Ramen noodles and cold cereal are my two major food groups. And then there’s the exercise. When you commit to having a dog, that part is not optional.” She dropped her hand to Flambeau’s head, and Flambeau lifted her face with the sweet, uncomplicated adoration that had enchanted Jessie since the moment they’d first met.

  “How did you pick your dog?” asked Lila.

  Jessie smiled. “The person who is blind doesn’t get to pick. The instructors do that. They get to know you, and of course they know the dogs because they’ve been training them for months. They match temperaments and personalities.”

  “And hair, too,” Glenny pointed out. “The two of you are a knockout together. A pair of gorgeous redheads.”

  “She sure is devoted to you,” said Lila.

  “Oh, I hope so, love. That’s one of the main goals of all the intensive training. Flambeau and I have to bond completely. I think it’s working.” She curved her hand under the dog’s chin. “A guide dog has a rough time of it, early in life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Flambeau’s not even two years old, and her heart has been broken three times. They took her from her mother at eight weeks of age, then gave her to a family to raise. After a year of that, she went to an instructor at the Beacon, and she thought he was her person. Finally they gave her to me.”

  “Poor baby.” Lila sounded genuinely distressed. Flambeau’s tail thumped the deck. “Some of the 4-H Club kids at school raise puppies for the Beacon. I never understood how they could do it—raise a puppy, train it and love it for a whole year and then give it away.”

  “Flambeau was raised by a boy from Round Rock,” Jessie said. “He came to visit the day the dog and I were matched up. It was—” She stopped, swallowed hard. “It was a day I’ll never, ever forget. They brought her to me, and she jumped up to give me a hug. Technically the dogs are supposed to be discouraged from jumping up, but it was something Brian had taught her when she was a pup—to give hugs on command. And that’s what my girl did, and it was— I can’t even describe what I was feeling. Hope and optimism and finally the certainty that I was going to be okay. And the whole time, I could hear Brian and his mom sobbing away while they stood back and watched us with the instructor. I asked Brian later if he had any regrets, but he said no. He said Flambeau was doing exactly what he’d raised her to do, and that was more important than him keeping her as a pet.”

  Jessie stopped to take a deep breath. She was amazed at how hard this was. “So you see, I don’t dare blow it with her. She got her heart broken a few times along the way, but finally she’s in her right place with me, Lila.”

  Jessie listened to the silence that followed. She was learning to hear the things that hid inside silence. The soughing of the cool breeze through the trees and the lapping of the lake around the dock pilings. Closer in, she detected the creak of Lila shifting in her chair and the soft gasp of her mother’s breathing, a muffled sniff from Luz and the sound of her petting Flambeau.

  She turned to Lila. “I need for you to be okay with what I did. I need to know you’re in your right place.”

  “It’s always been about what you need,” Lila said in a harsh, quiet voice. “I’m not a dog. I might be okay with this, or I might not. But either way, it’s not going to be because your needs matter.”

  Jessie could feel the shock emanating from her mother and sister. She sensed Luz gathering breath for a rebuke, but before she could speak, Jessie said, “Well, that’s a relief. And here I thought y’all were going to treat me special because I’m blind.”

  She stood and went to the rail of the deck, bracing her hands on the rough cedar. “Losing my vision forced me to find new ways of seeing. I did some stupid things when I was young. A lot of stupid things. I took my sister for granted and lost touch with my mother. I fell for too many men who cared too little about me. But there’s one thing I did that wasn’t stupid. It was the smartest thing I ever did. I gave you to your mother. My God, Lila, you’re so lucky I did that one smart thing.”

  She heard Lila drop to her knees and imagined her face-to-face with Flambeau. The feathery tail swished in response. Taking a deep breath, Jessie said, “Brian doesn’t love Flambeau any less because he gave her to me.”

  Lila climbed to her feet. “Yeah, okay.” She took a few steps, paused a moment, then left.

  In the wake of her departure, Jessie felt drained. “Well,” she said, “I guess I blew it.”

  Glenny surprised her by sniffling. “You see why I don’t hang around you girls all the time? You’re very intense.”

  Jessie put out a hand, and her mother took it. Jessie knew then that Glenny had done her best with what she’d had. The heart was a fragile organ, delicate and prone to breaking. Glenny was one of those who armored herself against the assault of everyday loving, so hard on the human heart.

  Glenny squeezed her hand. “I have a wall full of trophies and my own fan site on the Internet. I’ve traveled a lot of miles, but the hardest trip I’ve ever made was to come here. I couldn’t be prouder of my girls.”

  Jessie was amazed. “You’ve never told us that before.”

  “Just because I couldn’t always be there doesn’t mean I didn’t care. But the thing that saved me was knowing the two of you had each other, that you were in your best possible place. If you’re mad at each other, then nothing in the world makes sense.”

  Jessie turned to her sister. “Luz? Luz, please.”

  Maybe it was Glenny’s encouragement or maybe it was the please that did it. Luz grabbed on to Jessie and they fell together in a tangle of arms and legs, hugging and letting the tears come at last.

  CHAPTER 35

  Luz had always regarded the Alamo as a monument to tragedy and failure, haunted by the ghosts of soldiers abandoned to hold out against Santa Ana’s legions. Yet on a sunny Friday in late February, Texas’s most familiar landmark made its way into her viewfinder. She’d driven down to San Antonio for the afternoon to photograph the First Communion of Arnufo’s granddaughter, Guadalupe.

  As the solemn processional passed by the Alamo in a traditional march to the historic chapel, Luz found herself enchanted. Against the cobblestones and sandstone-colored mission, the little girls clad in white dresses and mantillas resembled tiny, perfect bride dolls. They went along the West Barracks and past the Cenotaph, crossing Colonel Travis’s legendary line in the sand, now a brass bar in the flagstones. Using a powerful telephoto
lens, Luz zoomed in close to capture the essence of their childlike purity—large brown eyes surrounded by black velvet lashes, the fall of sunlight on a glossy, waist-length braid, a precious family rosary wound between fingers with nails painted a chipped, dime-store pink. Occasionally she locked onto a not-so-secret smile, punctuated by missing teeth.

  Taking pictures had always given Luz a way of putting the world into her own perspective. The Alamo didn’t thrill her, but a parade of six-year-old Catholic girls made the tragedy cease to haunt. She caught one last shot of Guadalupe as she passed by her proud parents and grandfather and continued into the sanctuary. Arnufo had invited Luz to join the family celebration after the mass, but she’d declined. That was a time for snapshots and home videos. Besides, Luz needed to get back to Edenville. Life didn’t simply stop and wait for her because she had a new career. There was supper to cook, clothes to fold, homework to check, hugs to dispense. A husband to attend to—as much as she ever did these days. She pushed aside the worrisome thought of Ian and concentrated on other, easier matters.

  Her mother and Stuart would be leaving soon, and Luz would miss them. It had been a good visit despite the devastating reason for their trip. This past week, Luz and even Jessie had had the most honest conversations of their lives with their mother. Glenny had done the best she could; she honestly had. Now she was teaching the boys to play golf while Stuart surprised everyone by having a fine hand at the bluegrass fiddle. He’d even given Lila a few lessons.

  Lila.

  As Luz set her bags on the hood of her car to start digging for keys, she yearned for the slow-moving, uncomplicated days of Lila’s early childhood, when it was a simple matter to make her laugh and bedtime meant kisses and I-love-yous and when Lila looked at her and said, “Mommy.”

  This deep gash of separation was supposed to happen, Luz assured herself. In adolescence, teenagers drew away in order to find their own lives. It was a natural progression of things. But Lila’s transition was that much more dramatic because of the terror she’d faced in the accident and their disclosure about the adoption.