Yesterday

by Fern Michaels

  Books by Fern Michaels

  Mr. and Miss Anonymous

  Up Close and Personal

  Fool Me Once

  Picture Perfect

  About Face

  The Future Scrolls

  Kentucky Sunrise

  Kentucky Heat

  Kentucky Rich

  Plain Jane

  Charming Lily

  What You Wish For

  The Guest List

  Listen to Your Heart

  Celebration

  Yesterday

  Finders Keepers

  Annie’s Rainbow

  Sara’s Song

  Vegas Sunrise

  Vegas Heat

  Vegas Rich

  Whitefire

  Wish List

  Dear Emily

  The Godmothers Series:

  The Scoop

  The Sisterhood Novels:

  Deadly Deals

  Vanishing Act

  Razor Sharp

  Under the Radar

  Final Justice

  Collateral Damage

  Fast Track

  Hokus Pokus

  Hide and Seek

  Free Fall

  Sweet Revenge

  Lethal Justice

  The Jury

  Vendetta

  Payback

  Weekend Warriors

  Anthologies:

  Snow Angels

  Silver Bells

  Comfort and Joy

  Sugar and Spice

  Let It Snow

  A Gift of Joy

  Five Golden Rings

  Deck the Halls

  Jingle All the Way

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  FERN MICHAELS

  YESTERDAY

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Books by Fern Michaels

  Title Page

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  Dedication

  RETURN TO SENDER,

  Copyright Page

  Dear Readers,

  I’d like to start this letter by saying that I hope you like Yesterday. Many years ago, I saw a television interview with the famous movie star Natalie Wood. The interviewer asked her a question that stayed with me all those years until the day I sat down to write this book. “You’re rich, you’re famous, you’re beautiful, you’re married to a rich, famous man, and you have beautiful children,” the interviewer said. “What more could you possibly want?” Natalie Wood responded, “I want yesterday.”

  I started to think about my own yesterdays and the yesterdays of many of my friends. I thought, What a wonderful idea for a book. But it wasn’t enough just to think about yesterday. I needed to know what happened to yesterday, so I centered my story around a house—a house I almost bought, in South Carolina. It was a big plantation, but so in need of repair that I backed away from it; it was more than I could handle at the time. Like Natalie Wood’s interview, the picture of that house stayed with me for years. It still wasn’t enough for a book—until I created a family of children and the wonderful Mama Pearl who tends to them. Yesterday is the story of four children who grow to adulthood and who have never forgotten their childhood or that wonderful plantation house and Mama Pearl. It’s the story of one particular homecoming for Brie, Callie, Sela, Bode, and Mama Pearl—and what that special homecoming means to each of them.

  I hope you all enjoy reading Yesterday as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Fern Michaels

  Prologue

  The night was dark, warm and secretive, Brie Canfield thought as she opened the casement windows. She took great, heaving gulps of the honeysuckle-scented air, but it didn’t help to alleviate the terrible nightmare she’d just experienced.

  Behind her, the air conditioner whirred and wheezed, a sign the filter needed to be changed. The room was dark, too, because she hadn’t changed the lightbulb. She hadn’t done the dishes either or her laundry. For weeks. Maybe it was months. She simply could not remember.

  Brie strained to see something in the darkness, something that would reassure her that things were right, normal—and that life was going to be the way it was before. Cars passed, like ghostly blue shadows. Why did they look like that? She should know. Maybe it was important. She swayed, and her grip on the windowsill tightened so that her knuckles snapped and crackled.

  Maybe she needed to eat something—something more substantial than broth and a slice of bread. But the cupboard was bare, the refrigerator empty.

  She panicked then. That meant she would have to get dressed and go out to the store. She also had to keep her appointment with the department psychiatrist. Maybe she could do both things on the same day. She took in more deep breaths.

  She started to cry, knowing full well that tears wouldn’t help. Unless . . . She backed away from the open window and sat down on her bed.

  Unless . . . she gave in and called Bode Jessup. Bode would know what to say to her to make things right. She should have called him sooner. Why hadn’t she? Because I love him, and he doesn’t love me, that’s why. Because he loves Callie Parker, one of my oldest and dearest friends.

  She tried to pep-talk herself, but it wasn’t going to work because her stomach was tied in knots, and she was sweating profusely, even though the thermostat said it was only sixty-two degrees in the apartment. She began to weep again because there was nothing else for her to do. She couldn’t call now—Bode would hear the tears in her voice. So, what was wrong with his knowing she was upset? Why else would she call him in the middle of the night? Although he might think she had called to talk about Callie Parker’s wedding . . . to someone other than himself. So, who cared about that either?

  Brie’s hand stretched out. She didn’t need to look up Bode’s home phone number, even though she carried it on a slip of paper in her wallet. It was the first name in her address book under the A’s. She didn’t want his name in the middle of the book. Callie’s number was right under Bode’s, and so was Sela’s. Her three best friends in the whole entire world. And she hadn’t called any of them.

  Brie snatched her hand back from the phone, howling her despair. Then the phone was suddenly back in her hand. She punched out the area code, followed by Bode’s number. While the phone rang, she blew her nose. Five, six, seven rings . . .

  She was about to hang up when she heard Bode’s voice say: “This better be good, whoever you are, because it’s three o’clock in the morning.”

  “Bode, it’s Brie,” she said, her voice hoarse with all the crying she’d done.

  “Brie Canfield, the Brie who’s supposed to be my best friend in all the world, the same Brie who says she’ll call and write, but doesn’t. That Brie?”

  “Bode . . .”

  His voice was alert now, all trace of sleep and mockery gone. “What’s wrong, Brie?”

  “Bode . . .” She was whimpering and hated herself for it.

  “We’ve established the fact that I’m Bode, and I’m here on the other end of the phone. Do you want to hang up and call me back, Brie?”

  “Bode . . . I . . . Bode, I killed someone. I’m having a real hard time with it.”

  “Whoa . . . don’t spring a hit on me like that. Start at the beginning—
the very beginning, Brie. We’ll talk. It’ll be like old times. Two heads are better than one. Come on now, share. I’m listening.”

  “It wasn’t just someone. It was a boy. He was sixteen. He had a gun, and he was going to shoot my partner. I told him to put down his gun, but he didn’t. I don’t know who was more scared—me or him. We both fired. He . . . missed. I didn’t.”

  “And you decided that you’re going to take the rap for this, right? Were there any witnesses?”

  “Stop talking to me like the lawyer you are and talk to me like my friend. We are still friends, aren’t we? Of course there were witnesses. The Board cleared me. There was a real big stink about it from the boy’s parents and friends. They want to transfer me to another precinct. I have to see a shrink once a week, and I do, but I can’t get a handle on it. I can’t sleep, and I can’t eat. All I do is cry. Do you think I’m having a nervous breakdown? I’m afraid to ask the shrink. That’s the shape I’m in.”

  “No, you are not having a nervous breakdown. Trust me, Brie. What you need is a good dose of Mama Pearl. You’re coming home for the wedding, right?”

  “Oh, God. Probably not.”

  “You mean yes, you are. I’ll pick you up at the airport. Did they give you a leave of absence? What do you mean, you can’t eat or sleep?”

  “Just what I said. Don’t pep-talk me, Bode.”

  “Do you want me to come out there and bring you back, Brie?”

  God, yes, she did, but she’d never admit it. “No, of course not. Bode, I took a life. Kids shouldn’t have guns. You should have heard this boy’s mother. The kid was a saint, an altar boy, tops in his class, a loving son. The truth is the kid was a gang member, so high on crack his brain should have exploded. He didn’t go to school, probably never saw the inside of a church, and beat his mother, who worked two jobs to support herself and five other kids. I killed him. Me.”

  “And the alternative? You said he would have killed your partner.”

  “Shot him in the back. He’s got twenty years in. He was handcuffing another kid and didn’t see what was going down. We had two witnesses who saw the whole thing. How can I make this right, Bode? You always had the answers. I need an answer now.”

  “You just thought I had the answers. You always did give me too much credit. You go on, Brie, because life goes on. You have to put it behind you. That’s a goddamn order, Brie.”

  “You aren’t God, you know.” Brie hiccupped.

  “When did this take place?”

  “Six weeks ago tomorrow.”

  “And you’re just calling me NOW! Are you telling me you tried to ride this out by yourself? Did you call Callie or Sela?”

  “No. Just you, Bode.”

  “I bet you’re the best cop San Diego has,” Bode said.

  “One of the guys brought over my gun and shield yesterday. They told me to take as much time off as I want. I said I’d let them know. By the way, I’ve been accepted into the FBI Academy.”

  “Then there’s nothing to stop you from getting on a plane and heading for South Carolina. Congratulations! Are you on disability or what?”

  “Nope. Full pay. It’s not the money, Bode.”

  “You know what they say, kiddo—the past is prologue. Now, are you going to pack up and do what you have to do to get here?”

  “I need some time . . .”

  “You had enough time. Why didn’t you call Mama Pearl?”

  “Because hearing her voice would have done me in. I didn’t want to cry again. I wanted to work it out by myself.”

  “Is the shrink helping?”

  Brie laughed ruefully. “We’re up to the part where you’re teaching us our numbers under the angel oak. It’s very hard, Bode.”

  “Life is hard, Brie.”

  “Are you referring to—”

  “Life. Don’t try putting words in my mouth. Now, can I call Callie and Mama Pearl and tell them you’ll be coming to South Carolina?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know when. Thanks for listening, Bode.”

  “You should have called me on day one.”

  “On day one I didn’t even know my own name,” she said.

  “See? You should have called me, and I would have told you. Sleep well, Brie. Today is a whole new day, and it’s going to be whatever you make of it.”

  Brie looked at the pinging receiver in her hand. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she curled up in the big double bed. Now she knew she would sleep. Bode always made things right.

  In Summerville, South Carolina, Bode Jessup pulled on his jeans and sneakers. A hooded sweatshirt was next. A headache hammered behind his eyes as he wheeled his bike out of the apartment and into the alley. He climbed on, switched on his night-light, and pedaled away. He had a lot of thinking to do.

  1

  Brie Canfield removed her dark glasses at the same time as she turned off the engine of her rental car. She sat for a moment savoring this time, this place, her mind a crazy quilt of emotions. She climbed from the car, aware of her thin legs when her skirt hiked up to mid-thigh. She tugged at the elbow-length sleeves, trying to cover her equally skinny arms. She wondered if she looked as bad as she thought she did. How would the others view her? Would they comment on her appearance, or would they pretend she looked healthy and robust? Had Bode called them? Had he alerted them to her arrival? Were they even expecting her today? Hardly, since she hadn’t called anyone to tell them what time she was getting in.

  Perspiration beaded on her forehead and dripped down her cheeks. She’d forgotten how hot and humid it was in South Carolina in August. It felt good, the warmth seeping into her bones. She hadn’t forgotten how beautiful Parker Manor was, though. A feeling of peace settled over her as she walked up to the split-rail fence that defined the perimeters of the Parker place. She could see now that the wood was old and rotted, the paint peeling. When she was younger she’d helped Bode whitewash it every summer.

  Overhead, the sun beat down on her head and back. In the distance the main house beckoned her. She looked at it now with adult eyes. It wasn’t just beautiful, it was magnificent. Despite the flaking paint, the soaring white columns stood sentinel to another time. The old brick, softened over the years to a warm, petal pink, brought tears to her eyes. She swallowed, a lump in her throat, as she stared at the banks of flowers in bloom, the emerald grass, greener than any jewel, where she’d romped and played as a child.

  Yesterday.

  Yesterday was gone, tomorrow wasn’t here yet. All she had was today. Today and a lifetime of memories. Bode, Callie, Sela and, of course, Pearl, were such a part of her life it felt like they were all attached by some invisible umbilical cord.

  Brie dug her feet into the sandy earth as she propped her elbows on the rotted fence. This was home—maybe not in the legal sense of the word, but it was the only place where she had felt she truly belonged. And all because of Pearl and her childhood friends. She sank down on the turf and closed her eyes. When she. opened them again she was a child, driving up the long brick-lined drive surrounded by the glorious angel oaks she was staring at now, twenty-five years later.

  “Will I like coming here to play, Mama?” Brie had asked fearfully.

  “You’d better like it, as I’m not coming to fetch you till six-thirty. Now, remember, if they ask you to stay for supper, you say yes, it’s okay for you to eat with them.”

  “What if you forget to come and pick me up? Will I have to sleep here, too?” Brie whimpered.

  “If they ask you to sleep over, you can say yes. When Mr. Parker came into the café to ask if you could come out here to play with Miss Callie, he said there would be times when you would eat with Miss Callie and maybe sleep over. You mind your manners, missy, and don’t be giving them any problems. You can get out now and walk up to the house.”

  “By myself?”

  “You’re five years old, Brie. Act like it,” her mother said. “I have to get back to work.”

  Brie slid from the car.
She poked her head in the open window, and cried, “What if they don’t like me, Mama? If they don’t like me, should I come out here to the fence and wait for you?”

  Mrs. Canfield worked her face into something that resembled a smile and a frown. “It’s up to you to make them like you. I don’t have the money to pay someone to watch you during the summer, Brie. You’ll have to stay by yourself at the apartment, the way you did this last year. You need to be responsible. You went to kindergarten. You were supposed to learn how to get along with other kids. You did, didn’t you?” She sounded like she didn’t care one way or the other.

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “Go along now, I have to get back to the café.”

  “Good-bye, Mama.” She stretched her head as far into the car as she could, hoping her mother would give her a kiss or a pat on the head, but she didn’t. Brie backed away until her little body was pressed against the fence. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped at them with the sleeve of her dress. She just wanted to cry and cry until she fell asleep in the bright sunshine with the umbrella of trees that dripped Spanish moss.

  She looked down the drive then, at the big white house with its stately columns. It hurt her eyes to stare at it, pretty as it was. It was Callie Parker’s home. She must be a princess, Brie decided. And her father, the king, asked Brie’s mother if she could come here and play. She wondered if Callie Parker, the princess, had a magic wand that she waved around. Maybe she wasn’t a plain princess, but a fairy princess. Miss Roland read stories about fairy princesses in school. Or maybe Callie Parker was like Cinderella.

  Brie started to weep again as she allowed herself to crumple to the ground alongside the fence. What was she going to do if the princess didn’t like her, or want to play with her? “I’m going to stay right here and wait for my mama to come and get me,” she said defiantly. Eventually she dozed off, the sun warming her trembling body. She didn’t wake until she felt herself being picked up and cradled in strong arms.