Yesterday

by Fern Michaels

  “She didn’t call while I’ve been here. Yes, the turkey is thawing. I did everything I was supposed to do and some things I probably shouldn’t have done.”

  Hatch’s eyebrows shot upward. “Maybe you better tell us about that.”

  Bode described his visit to the doctor and his conversation with Callie. “If it was the right thing to do, Hatch, then why do I feel so shitty? I just left her there with an envelope of money. I can’t believe I did that.”

  “I can believe it,” Sela said. “I guess she’s not coming for dinner.”

  “No, she won’t be coming,” Bode said. “What’s going to happen to her? She was so upset when I told her about the house. I ripped the only home she ever knew right out from under her. It had to be traumatic. She never liked any of us. It was all a game.”

  “I know,” Sela said gently. “But look at us now and look at Callie. Everything happens for a reason, Bode.”

  “Mama Pearl . . . God, you should have heard her,” Bode said miserably.

  “You forget, Bode, I did hear her for a lot of years. Like Brie and even you, I buried it. When I would see something I knew wasn’t right I looked the other way. We were all sick little puppies. So what if she isn’t going to be here for dinner? We’ll make a toast to her and offer up our own Thanksgiving to our well-being. Oh, I hope Brie gets here. She promised. Hatch, what if she doesn’t make it?”

  “If it’s humanly possible, she’ll be here, honey. You said yourself, she never breaks a promise.”

  “It will be my fault if she doesn’t come,” Bode said.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Bode,” Sela muttered. “I have this feeling I should go to see Callie and—and say good-bye. Does that make sense? It doesn’t seem right that . . . you know. What do you think, Hatch? Bode?”

  “Whatever feels right, honey,” Hatch said.

  “Should I take the baby?”

  “No,” Hatch and Bode said at the same time.

  “Bode, what do you think?”

  “If it feels right, do it. I don’t think she’ll be looking any of us up in the future, so if you want to say good-bye, this is the time to do it.”

  “Bode, did you ever find out how old Pearl was?” Sela asked as she slipped her arms into her coat.

  “Arquette said she was born the same time he was, the year the First World War ended. Arquette said it was written in a book Mr. Parker’s daddy kept in the big house. I never saw it myself.”

  “Pearl was that old? Good Lord, I thought she was maybe seventy at the most. The poor thing just wore out, taking care of that little snot,” Sela said grimly. She was out the door a moment later.

  “I just love it when she gets like that.” Hatch grinned. “You didn’t tell me she had so much piss and vinegar in her.”

  “It didn’t matter, Hatch. Sela always was and always will be a constant. Sela kept us all on track. She told it like it was, and she stood up for anything she believed in. Wonder what she’ll say to Callie.”

  “I don’t think we want to know, and she isn’t going to tell us either. You can count on that.”

  “Why?” Bode asked, puzzled.

  “She has to reconcile that part of her life. She’d never be able to walk away from here knowing Callie was a loose end. She likes things tidy. She knows Brie is settled. They’ll always be the sisterless sisters. She knows you’re okay and she hopes that one of these days you’ll get your shit together and go after Brie and settle down. When that happens her nest will be complete. She would have allowed Callie into that nest. You need to know that. Not now though. Guess she’s going to tell her that. Two more beers, Mr. Jessup,” Hatch said, putting his feet on the coffee table.

  “Yes, sir,” Bode said, saluting smartly.

  “Callie?”

  “Sela. What a surprise!” Callie held out her arms expecting Sela to rush into them. Instead she slipped out of her coat and perched on the edge of the bed.

  “How are you, Callie?”

  “I was fine until Bode got here. He just up and. switched up on me, Sela. I never knew he was so ungrateful. After all we did for him. He left me money—do you believe that? And he stole my house. Told me I should go live with that plumber and his wife.”

  “That plumber and his wife are your parents, Callie. How can you turn your back on them?”

  “I don’t even like them. Pearl let them touch me. I used to shiver when they did that. One time they gave me a piece of candy, and when no one was looking I threw it away.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’d touched it, that’s why.”

  “That was unforgivable, Callie. Aren’t you the least bit interested to know you have brothers and sisters? You can’t be one of the sisterless sisters anymore because you have real ones,” Sela said carefully.

  “That’s stupid,” Callie said.

  “You never really liked Brie and me, did you?” Sela asked quietly.

  “Not really. Do you like this ribbon in my hair, Sela? It’s all wrinkled. I wish Pearl was here so she could iron my clothes. Look how crumpled everything is.”

  “Do you know how to iron, Callie?”

  “No, do you?”

  “Of course. Even Bode, and he’s a guy, knows how to iron. My husband knows how to iron, too.”

  “I can’t believe you married an Indian. Does he have a war bonnet?” Callie giggled.

  “He’s good and kind, Callie. We have the most gorgeous son. Hatch loves him so much, and he loves me with all his heart. If I said I wanted moonbeams, he’d try like the devil to get them for me. I feel the same way about him. We share everything. He’s so rich it makes my head spin. Any other guy would have made me sign a prenup, but not Hatch. He couldn’t wait to share. He’s like Bode. You don’t understand a thing I just said, do you?”

  “Of course I do. You snagged a rich husband, you have a baby, and you don’t ever have to worry about anything again. He’s still an Indian. You look so plain, Sela. I liked you better with all those glitzy clothes and makeup.”

  “I was trying to hide behind those things. That was never who I was. If you’d really been my friend like Brie is my friend, you would have known that. I don’t want to fight, Callie. I just came here to say good-bye. I don’t think our paths will cross again.”

  “We can send Christmas cards. Why didn’t Brie come?”

  “She’s on assignment. We’re hoping she gets here in time for dinner tomorrow. I was really looking forward to us all sitting down and offering up thanks. For your recovery, for my son, for all the good things in our lives. I’m sorry you aren’t going to be there to share it with us.”

  “Thanks to Bode. I would have come if he hadn’t been so hateful.”

  “You owe Bode so much, Callie.”

  “Don’t be silly! I don’t owe him anything. I liked him better when he thought he was colored. He knew his place then.”

  “The way Pearl knew her place?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you know Pearl was over eighty years old? You probably never even thought about it. You thought she was going to live forever and always be your slave. That’s all she was to you. Damn you, Callie, I hate you for that.”

  “She bought me for fifty dollars. She owned me and because she owned me she was responsible for me. It was fair.”

  “My God, I’ve never come across anyone as mean and selfish as you. How in the world are you going to live with yourself?” Anger rivered through Sela. “Pearl . . . Pearl wanted to die first so she’d be in heaven waiting for you. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

  Callie ignored Sela’s words. “I’m not going to live by myself. Wyn is coming in the morning and taking me back to Beaufort. We’ll probably get married. He’s as rich as your Indian.”

  Sela’s jaw dropped as she stared at Callie in pure amazement. “Are you going to tell him about your parents?”

  Callie laughed. “Not likely.”

  “Maybe I should tell him,” Sela said.r />
  “Maybe you shouldn’t,” Callie said coldly.

  “Are you ever going to use your education that Bode and Brie broke their backs for? Are you ever going to practice law?”

  “No. What are you talking about?”

  “Where do you think the money came from, for you to go to school? Where do you think the money came from, for all those fancy dresses and shoes, the dance lessons, the riding lessons? Didn’t you ever wonder? Surely you weren’t stupid enough to believe Pearl picked it off a tree. They worked for it, hustled night and day so you could have all those extras. Bode did it because he thought he had to do it. Brie did it to make things easier for Bode. I can’t forgive you for that. You, Callie Parker Davis, are a worthless piece of shit. I can’t believe I ever thought of you as my friend.”

  “I never liked you, Sela. Oh, I loved the flashy clothes you wore and all that makeup. I knew you were white trash just like Brie. You had such an unladylike mouth, always saying such shocking things. Brie was no better with her patched overalls. Girls don’t wear those awful things. She put electrical tape on the holes in her sneakers. She was white trash and Bode was . . . Bode was . . . he was colored trash. So there!”

  Sela’s hand shot out. The sound was like a gunshot. “That’s for saying Brie and Bode are trash. I don’t care what you think of me, but don’t you ever call them that again. You aren’t good enough to lick their feet.

  “I’m glad I came here today, glad I heard you say everything you said. Now I can go back to my real world with real people who love me for who I am. It’s real, Callie, not pretend anymore. I wish you well.”

  When the door closed behind Sela, Callie picked up the book she’d been reading and said, “Oh pooh, who needs her and her trashy friends anyway. Not me, that’s for sure.”

  Sela sailed into the brownstone and immediately rushed at Hatch. “I will give thanks to God every night of my life that I found you. Bode, come here. You are the best friend; I couldn’t ask for one better. I love you both so much—you’ll never know just how much. Now, who’s going to help me make the stuffing for this turkey, and what are we having for dinner—or is it too late for dinner? Lord, it’s after nine. How about Chinese? Bode, you can clean up the baby. Go, go,” she said, making shooing motions. “Don’t forget the fortune cookies, honey.”

  Hatch’s expression said, “See? I told you she wouldn’t say a word.”

  “What time is it, Hatch?” Sela asked for the fifth time.

  “It’s three o’clock, honey.”

  “Where is she? I told her we’d try for four o’clock dinner. She promised, Hatch. I have this awful sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. The turkey’s going to dry out.”

  “So what? Bode and I have eaten our share of dried-out food. We can eat Spam for all I care, or peanut butter and jelly. It’s being together that counts. The turkey just doesn’t matter, honey.”

  “Come on, let’s watch something on television,” Bode said.

  “There’s nothing on. The parade is over and all they’re showing is that lunatic in Pennsylvania. Oh my God, did something happen?” Sela cried. “Why are they showing that stuff today? It’s Thanksgiving! Switch the channels, Bode, there must be something else on.”

  “Sorry, Sela, there’s no cable here, just the regular channels and it’s on all of them,” Bode said.

  “Look, they’re shooting, We’re actually watching whatever this is. Isn’t modern technology something?” Hatch said. “Wow, look at all those ambulances and helicopters. Do you think it was some kind of standoff? McKees Rocks is the name of the place. Does that ring a bell for you, honey? Is that where Brie is?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me,” Sela cried. “Sometimes she’s so damn professional she makes me sick. Is the FBI there?”

  “And the ATF, too,” Hatch said, straining to see the figures running around on the television set.

  “Does Brie wear a bulletproof vest?” Bode asked hoarsely.

  “She said she does,” Sela fretted.

  “Sela, did Brie say she was in Pennsylvania on assignment?” Bode demanded.

  Sela nodded. “She didn’t say where though. Why?”

  “Because,” Bode said, “this commentator is saying three FBI agents were killed, two wounded, and one ATF agent was severely wounded and one killed. Why isn’t she here?”

  “Let’s take it easy and not get carried away,” Hatch said firmly. “We need to be quiet so we can hear what they’re saying. They aren’t going to release the names.”

  “Why?” Sela whimpered.

  “Because, honey, they have to notify the next of kin first. It would be awful for some parent to hear something like that on television.”

  “Brie has me and Bode down as her next of kin. We aren’t home to be notified if she’s—We aren’t home, Hatch! Do they leave messages like that on answering machines?”

  “No, honey, they don’t,” Hatch said.

  “One female FBI agent killed, one female FBI agent wounded. The ATF agent was a guy.” Bode repeated the announcer’s words. “Hatch, don’t we have some FBI agents as clients? They’re yours, aren’t they?” The phone was in Hatch’s hands before Bode stopped speaking.

  “Of course I know what time it is. So you’re going to go to the office and open it up and get me some telephone numbers. I said do it now. Call me back at this number.” He hung up. “Everybody’s celebrating early,” he grumbled to Bode and Sela. “Did I miss anything?”

  Bode shook his head. He looked down to see his hand gripped in Sela’s. “I have that same sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that you have,” he whispered. “They’ve taken the wounded to Pittsburgh General Hospital. Maybe we should call there.”

  “They won’t give out any information,” Hatch said. “Just hold on here. Brad will call me back, and then I’ll call the agents and ask them to check it out. Look, we can be ready to go in five minutes, if we have to. If.”

  “Who is that guy?”

  “Someone who thinks he’s God. It must be some kind of cult or something. How can anyone follow a guy like that and believe what he spouts?” Hatch demanded. “Twenty-three of his followers are dead. Jesus!”

  Sela squeezed Bode’s hand. He squeezed it back. “Do you love her, Bode?” she whispered.

  “I wanted to tell her. I even tried—from the day I counted her freckles.”

  “You gotta say the words, Bode; otherwise, it doesn’t mean anything. A look, a pat on the head isn’t good enough. You can’t assume, and you can’t presume. You need to work on that pride of yours.”

  “God, she was so proud of becoming an agent. She’s a good one too. She graduated in the top five percent of her class. When she was a cop, she once took me to the firing range. She hit the bull’s-eye dead center each time. When she finished, all there was, was one big hole.”

  “I know she’s hurt, I can feel it,” Sela moaned. “You know it too, don’t you, Bode?” He nodded numbly.

  The phone rang. Hatch scribbled. He dialed and waited, said what he had to say, hung up, and told them, “He’s going to call me back.”

  Hatch picked up the phone in mid-ring. He listened, his face betraying nothing. “Sela, dress the baby. Bode, turn off the oven. I have to call the airport and a cab. Figure out what to do with all that food or this place will be crawling with bugs and roaches. She’s in critical condition. They don’t know if she’ll make it. She’s being operated on as we speak. Don’t just stand there, move!” he bellowed.

  “The vest . . .”

  “She got it in the gut, Bode. That’s the worst kind.”

  “How . . . ?”

  “She was dragging one of her fellow agents out of the way because he’d been shot. That’s how she got it. I thought I told you to move.”

  An hour later they were airborne.

  When most people were sitting down to a late Thanksgiving dinner, they were clustered together waiting to speak to the surgeon who operated on Brie.

  “Seventy-two
hours. It can go either way. We did all we could. I find praying always helps,” the surgeon said kindly.

  Hatch took the baby from Sela’s arms so she could cuddle with Bode. He strode down the hall in search of the hospital administrator. When he found him he got right to the point. “I asked your charge nurse if I could leave my son in the pediatric ward for three days and she said I had to speak with you. We’re the family of Special Agent Canfield. Take care of my son with a private duty nurse and I’ll build you a new wing on this hospital. We’ll call it the Briana Canfield whatever it is you need. Is it a deal?”

  “We’ll take good care of him,” the administrator said, reaching for the baby. “Agent Canfield is in the best possible hands. I spoke to the surgeon as soon as he finished operating.”

  “Agent Canfield is my son’s godmother,” Hatch said with a catch in his voice. The administrator nodded. Hatch left the office knowing his son would be well cared for and his wife would be able to wait out the seventy-two hours with Bode and not worry about the baby.

  “I hate hospitals,” Sela said somberly the following day. “It was such a nightmare when Callie had her accident.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when it happened.”

  “It’s this waiting. Staring at Brie through that glass . . . it’s like she’s someone else. She looks so vulnerable. She likes being in control of her own person, and now she has to depend on other people. I wonder if she knows we’re out here,” Bode said miserably. “I don’t want to lose her. I don’t think I could handle that.”

  “Does this mean you are finally admitting you aren’t Superman? Does it mean you are finally going to admit you love that girl? If so, then you need to tell her that when they let us see her. Maybe you should go in the men’s room now and stare at yourself in the mirror and practice saying the words so when you do say them they sound convincing,” Hatch suggested slyly.

  “Just say what you feel, Bode,” Sela interrupted. “Brie’s the smart one, she’ll see through anything else. She’s going to make it, isn’t she, Hatch?”

  “Sure, honey.”

  They were standing outside the ICU unit, their heads and hands pressed against the glass. All their eyes were misty with tears. Sela tapped lightly on the glass hoping Brie would open her eyes. She did. They all waved wildly, mouthing words of love and encouragement they hoped she could see.