I Love You, Jilly Sanders

by Cindy Lou Daniels

  Jilly reached up and wrapped her hands over Gwen’s. “Where’s the girls?”

  “Ariana was playing kick-the-air on Otto’s lap last time I looked, and Shye was having her hair braided by Cat. Mackenzie is coming over to take me to church.”

  Jilly wrinkled her brow. “Since when do you go to church?”

  Gwen grinned at her. “Since Mackenzie asked me to help him get reacquainted with the folks in town. It’s hard work to earn the trust of these small town people when you’ve broken that trust so completely in the past, but he wants so badly to fit in someplace again.”

  “Isn’t that sort of like trying to buy your way into heaven?” Jilly asked, making an attempt to tease Gwen as she had in the past. “Going to church only to get something out of it for yourself?”

  “What other reason is there to go to church?” Gwen asked in a reasonable tone. “People go to church all the time to keep connected with their communities.”

  “True,” Jilly said. “What else does Mackenzie say?”

  “He says—” Gwen stopped and put her hands on her hips when she caught sight of Jilly’s teasing half-smile. “I’m not even going to yell at you, although you could have chosen something else to pick on me about!”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that lately, you have been going around like a Mac-Parrot!”

  Cat walked into the room, Shye following at her heels. “I thought she was just having a Big-Mac-Attack,” she said.

  Jilly’s laughter startled her. Had it been that long since she’d laughed out loud? “That’s a good one,” she said to Cat, a soft smile creasing her face.

  “Did she tell you what else she’s doing?” Cat asked, her face the picture of innocence.

  Jilly shook her head.

  “She’s volunteering at Briar Rose Public Library!”

  Jilly let her jaw drop with astonishment. “She’s working with the Gestapo-Librarian? It’s got to be love!”

  Gwen stuck her nose in the air. “I don’t have to put up with you two,” she said with false dignity.

  “Yes you do, Momma,” Shye said. “You like my hair?” She tilted her head this way and that, showing off the long braids.

  “They’re beautiful!” Gwen said. “Just like the rest of you.”

  Shye grinned, showing all her teeth in a new way she’d learned from Otto.

  Jilly thought Shye looked like a happy-devil-child whenever she made that face. “You better be careful,” she told Shye, “or your face is gonna freeze that way!”

  “Really?” Shye said, her eyes lighting up with hope. “I’m gonna go tell Otto.” And she ran off to find him.

  Cat shook her head and smiled. “She’s certainly learned to put together a complete sentence,” she said. “There’s no telling what is going to come out of that child’s mouth next.”

  “That’s what we love about her,” Jilly added, when she saw Gwen’s worried face. “She’s a charmer. Just like her mother.”

  “That’s what Mackenzie says . . .” She stamped her foot when Jilly smiled and Cat giggled. “That’s it! I’m ready to go. Are you sure you can handle the girls?” she asked Cat.

  “Of course,” Cat assured her. “Besides, Jilly is here, and Tage is coming over, too. He said he wanted to take Shye for a walk into town.”

  For once, Jilly didn’t walk out of the room when Tage’s name was mentioned. She even managed to stay in the room when he arrived about an hour later. He smiled at her, and she managed a tentative smile in return. She hadn’t really looked at him in weeks, and now when she did, she no longer had the feeling he was only remembering what happened at the commune every time he looked at her.

  She even agreed to walk with him out to the barn when he said he had something to show her. She followed him warily, just in case he tried to open a conversation she didn’t want to face, but he kept his words neutral, as though he sensed her readiness to run.

  “Look,” Tage said. He crossed over to the workbench Otto had against the far wall. “You won’t believe this.” He held up two chunks of wood, oblong, with what looked like toes carved in the end.

  Jilly pulled her chin back and wrinkled her nose. “What are they?”

  “Giant bunny feet,” Tage told her, his face perfectly serious.

  “Bunny feet,” Jilly repeated, her voice expressionless.

  Tage nodded. “My dad has been carving these things for two weeks.”

  “Hmmm,” Jilly hummed. She had no idea what to say.

  “Don’t you get it?” Tage asked, a huge grin spreading over his face.

  “I’m afraid not,” Jilly said.

  “Dad’s carving these bunny feet so he can strap them on his own feet and walk around the yard the night before Easter. He wants Shye to think the Easter

  Bunny really showed up.”

  His words evoked a mind-image so vivid she gaped at him. Then she snapped her mouth shut.

  “That’s cool,” he said. “Don’t you think?”

  Jilly nodded.

  “Know what else I think?”

  Jilly shook her head.

  “I think my dad has fallen big time for Gwen and the girls. I also think he’s going to ask her to marry him!”

  Jilly’s heart contracted. She almost didn’t recognize the feeling of joy sweeping over her skin. “That,” she said, “would be wonderful.” She leaned over and inspected the long bunny feet. “I think you’re right. Men don’t just carve rabbit feet for nothing.” Jilly slid her finger across the toes of the carving.

  Tage’s laughter sounded lonely in the lofty barn.

  He reached out, slow and careful, to touch her shoulder with one finger. “Are you okay?”

  Jilly felt the quick sting of tears, and she shrugged.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, Jilly,” he said. “And that’s okay, but can I say one thing?”

  He waited until she nodded before he continued. “I wish I could take everything back, could take away the hurt and the unfairness. If I could, I’d . . . I’d trade places with you.” He blinked hard. “But I can’t.” He paused. “And you can’t wish what happened away, either, or pretend it didn’t happen.”

  Jilly shook her head, wanting him to stop, but listening intently despite herself.

  “The only thing I can do is tell you you’re still the same person to me, that no matter what happens you’ll always be the same girl who has shown me what it really means to be truly good.”

  She wasn’t good. She’d lied to him, lied to them all right from the beginning. When they found out, and they were bound to, they would never be able to forgive her. The thought took away her breath, took away her voice, but Tage simply nodded at her as though he didn’t expect a response to what he had said to her.

  He put the bunny feet back on the shelf and they walked back to the house.

  “Would you like to walk into town with Shye and me?” Tage didn’t make eye-contact with her. “I thought it would be fun to pull her in the Radio Flyer, and maybe get an ice cream or something at Ned’s.”

  Jilly hesitated, and nodded. She wanted so badly for things to be all right between them again, but she didn’t quite know how to accomplish it.

  They were mostly quiet on the way to town, but Shye’s off-key singing filled the silence between them. “Little rabbit Fru-fru, hoppin’ tru da foress, scoopin’ up da fiel’ mice and BASHIN’ ‘em on da head!” she sang out lustily.

  Jilly swallowed her sudden desire to giggle when she saw the horrified expression on Tage’s face. “Where’d you learn that song?” he asked.

  Shye cocked her head at him. “I hear-ed it on the radio!”

  “You did not,” Tage said.

  “Did so,” Shye returned.

  “Did n—” Tage caught Jilly’s eye and shrugged sheepishly.

  “She would be your little sister, you know,” Jilly reminded him, amazed that life continued in apparent normalcy even when the world felt as though it were falling to pieces.

/>   “She’s doing plenty of practice aggravating me,” Tage said, and Jilly smiled.

  The smile felt warm and natural, and she wanted to reach out and hug Tage closely. She settled for looking at him intently until he smiled back and hoped he understood the underlying message.

  Ned, of course, fell in love with Shye. He bounced off his stool and clutched his heart when he looked at her sweet upturned face. “Oh my! Chore a pretty one!” he said. “Tiny as a turtle, too.”

  Shye gave him her happy-devil-child grin and Ned chuckled. “That’s the smile of a wee sassy fiend,” he told her.

  “We’ve come for ice cream,” Tage said. “How have you been?”

  “Tolerable,” Ned grunted. “Tolerable.”

  Jilly and Tage went over to the freezer and lifted Shye up so she could see her choices.

  “Pick one,” Tage said. She pointed one chubby finger toward an Eskimo pie.

  “That Gwen’s girl?” Ned asked, when they brought their selections over to the counter.

  “That’s my momma’s name,” Shye told him. “She’s pretty. Jilly’s pretty, too. And Cat’s pretty.” She ripped open her ice cream. “Mac told me so,” she added.

  “Ahhh . . .” Ned said. “That’s right. Chore father’s home.” Ned rang up the sale. “He’s gettin’ along good with young Gwen, eh?”

  Tage nodded.

  “Well . . .” Ned said, his floppy ears practically trembling, “tell chore father folks round here ain’t sayin’ he’s bad; they says there never was any proof for what they said he did, and ‘til there is, ain’t nobody gonna turn their backs on him.”

  “I’ll tell him,” Tage said. He picked up Jilly’s and his ice cream. “Thanks, Ned,” he said softly.

  Ned nodded and his face bunched up. “Chore a fine young man, Tage Oakes,” he said.

  “See you later, Ned,” Jilly said. She hoped he hadn’t noticed how quiet she had been.

  The three of them left the store, the cowbell punctuating their exit.

  Tage settled Shye back into the wagon.

  “Do you think he was being nice, or was he trying to warn you about the money?” Jilly asked.

  Tage stood up. “I think maybe it was both,” he said.

  They started walking and Jilly bit into her ice cream. She swallowed the icy lump. “If Gwen and your dad do get married, they’ll be able to live here together in your house. I think the girls would like to grow up in Briar Rose.”

  The wagon wheels screeched as they rolled along, and Jilly darted a thoughtful look back toward the Mobil station. “Do you think real life ever truly turns out like a fairytale?” she asked Tage, her voice soft.

  Tage’s foot stumbled on the blacktop. “It’s got to sometimes, doesn’t it?” he said.

  “I don’t know,” Jilly said.

  Tage looked over at her. “Maybe nobody knows,” he said. “But we all keep trying because that’s what life is about, don’t you think?”

  “Fairytales and happily-ever-afters?” Jilly asked. “Maybe we’re all simply fooling ourselves.”

  Tage blinked. “I hope not,” he said gently. “I really hope not.”

  Chapter XXVI.

  Slowly, Jilly and Tage resumed a cautious relationship. As the weeks passed, Jilly could see Tage refraining from speaking what was on his mind, and she knew his self-imposed control wouldn’t last much longer. He wanted to go back to their old relationship, back to a time that no longer existed. Jilly thought she was starting to get over what Kane did to her, but she hadn’t even begun to deal with the half-truths she’d told. And how could she begin to deal with those when she was so undeniably ashamed that her own mother did not want her?

  The thought was new to her. She’d never realized part of what she felt toward her mother was shame—a sense of self-shame so deeply rooted she had never been able to acknowledge it.

  But how did a person get past something like that? Maybe they never did, she thought. Maybe a person simply had to leap into the fear of exposure. That idea left her trembling but curious.

  In mid-May, when a warm spring sun was shining, Jilly wandered out to the abandoned car in the right field. As usual, peace stole up on her when she climbed into the back seat. The heat from the sun had warmed the interior of the car, and she felt herself relaxing for the first time in a long time. The clarity of the day must have cleared the cobwebs from her mind, too, because as she sat there she realized it was time to admit that if Jane Sandra was going to write to her, she would have done so by now.

  And she hadn’t.

  That was nothing but the stark truth.

  Apparently Jane Sandra had made her choice, and now Jilly had to make up her own mind.

  There was no sense in putting off the inevitable; she would tell them all—Otto, Cat, Gwen, and Tage—about herself and let whatever was going to happen, happen. She would take the leap. The decision brought her a measure of cold comfort. She had learned the hard way how difficult it was to live day in and day out with a lie.

  “I knew you’d be out here sooner or later.”

  Jilly jumped and almost knocked her head on the roof of the car at the sound of Tage’s voice. She stuck her head out the door to frown at him. “You didn’t need to try to give me a heart attack, did you?”

  He smiled. “It would take more than me to give you a heart attack. Remember that day we met out here?”

  “You tried to kill me,” Jilly told him, the familiar argument spreading warmth through her stomach.

  “I did not,” Tage denied. “Move over.” He climbed into the car beside her, scrunching down on the seat.

  Jilly felt his shoulder brush hers and she relaxed until their arms were touching from shoulder to elbow. “I like to come out here and think,” she said.

  “It’s quiet,” Tage agreed. He turned his head toward her. “What are you thinking about, Jilly?”

  The look on his face said he knew he was asking a loaded question, but she also saw he was determined to follow through. “I’ve wanted to talk to you, to tell you something,” she began.

  Tage’s face turned white, but he met her gaze. “I know you blame me, Jilly, for what happened.”

  “You think I blame you for what Kane did to me?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “Of course not!” She reached over to cup her hand around the curve of his jaw. “It’s taking me a while, but I’m learning to live with what Kane did to me.” Her voice was low but strong. “I suppose I won’t ever get over it—How could I?—it’s a part of me that will never go away. But I’ve never blamed you for any of that!

  “I wanted to tell you that, that day in the barn . . . to tell you how much your words meant to me, but I couldn’t then. Everything was too raw.”

  On impulse she leaned over and kissed him. His lips, chapped by the wind, were warm and accepting. He kissed her back. When he did, her other senses intensified: she smelled the scent of over-grown hay and air-dust, and she heard the wind turning leaves and grass with feathery-soft sighs.

  When she pulled away, he said, “Then why?”

  “Why what?

  “Why haven’t you been able to look at me ever since we got back? Why have you been avoiding me? The only time you’ve gone anywhere with me was that day we took Shye to town and saw Ned.”

  She started to deny what he said, but knew she couldn’t. She had been the one ignoring him, not the other way around. She’d promised herself to tell him, to start with him because somehow he would be the easiest to confess to, and now was as good a time as any. She settled herself back in the seat, once again unable to meet his direct gaze. “When I got back, after we got Shye from the commune, I wrote to my mother,” she said.

  “Yeah? So what? Does she want you to come home?” Tage asked. “I never did quite get that. Did she send you to live with your grandfather?”

  “Let me finish, okay?”

  Tage nodded.

  “I grew up in foster homes.” She saw him open his mouth and she s
ilenced him with a finger placed on his lips. “The only thing I ever knew about myself was that I was found at a church here in Briar Rose. My mother abandoned me.” She swallowed; she swallowed again. That was the first time she’d ever said those words aloud. She took a deep breath and told Tage everything, about running away and meeting Otto at the cemetery last June, and about her belief that Jane Sandra was her mother.

  The car filled with a silence so profound it hurt Jilly’s feelings. But still, she waited.

  “Jilly?” Tage said.

  She looked at him. Her eyes felt achy.

  “Doesn’t that seem a bit too—coincidental?” he asked. “That you would find your grandfather in the same place you’d been abandoned, only sixteen years later?”

  “I know—”

  The faint echo of a scream sent goosebumps shivering their way up her arms and legs.

  “What the hell was that?” Tage exclaimed.

  They heard another scream, but this one was cut off abruptly.

  They scrambled out of the car.

  “It’s coming from the house,” Tage yelled. “Come on!”

  They ran, Jilly stumbling through last year’s broken, dried grass to keep up with Tage. Her chest felt as though her heart might explode out of it at any moment.

  They reached the house simultaneously and dashed up the steps.

  Inside the kitchen, Jilly froze.

  Cat was on her hands and knees, blood dripping from her mouth. Reuben

  Payne towered over her.

  “I told you, bitch!” he said. “You’re all going to pay now!” He reached out and kicked her savagely.

  Before Tage could react, Otto staggered down the stairwell, the Long Tom pointed directly at Reuben. “Stop right there,” Otto said.

  Jilly had never heard that tone in his voice before.

  Reuben laughed, a low-pitched ugly sound. “I’m going to rip you apart, old man,” he said. “Just as soon as I’m through with her.” His foot came out again and impacted with a dull thud against Cat’s back.

  That’s when Jilly heard the gun go off and she saw Reuben’s look of surprise as he spread his fingers out over his chest. Blood ran freely over his hands. In shock, he tumbled backward, fell flat into the kitchen table slid to the floor. He never made another sound.