2142 Green Hollow RD
Page 4
Camilla’s eyes looked cloudy. “I’ve only heard a bit about what your father said.”
Jennifer’s nostrils flared. “He was too drunk to know what to do. Wasn’t he?”
Camilla pursed her lips. The other women shifted their weight and exchanged glances. Suddenly, a nurse bolted down the hallway, her scrubs swishing together at her thighs.
“I don’t think you should be too hard on him, Jen,” Camilla breathed. “He hardly knows what happened. And at least, he got her here. He found a way to make the call.”
Jennifer’s heart raced with anger as Camilla wrapped an arm around Jennifer’s shoulders and turned back to the rest of them. “Only immediate family in the room right now.”
“That bastard,” Jennifer whispered into Camilla’s ear. She didn’t expect a response.
“We’ll wait in the hallway for you, Jen,” Mila said. “We can take you wherever you want to go, whenever you like.”
Jennifer turned back. Her eyes were so bleary that her best friends seemed like strange paintings. “Can you call Joel and Nick? I need them to know what happened.”
“Of course,” Olivia affirmed. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“You want them to come up here?” Amelia asked.
“Yes,” Jennifer breathed. “I think that would be best.”
Camilla opened the door of her mother’s hospital room to reveal Ariane Conrad, pale, her eyes closed, with various clear wires coming out of her arms and hands. Beside her sat John Conrad, Jennifer’s drunken father. Enormous shadows pooled beneath his eyes. He hardly noticed Jennifer as she entered.
Jennifer could have slapped him silly.
“Thank you, Cam,” Jennifer whispered to her dear friend.
“I think the doctor will be in shortly to give you more information,” Camilla said. “I’ll be right outside. Call me if you need anything at all.”
The moment the door clicked closed, Jennifer collapsed in the chair opposite her father and gripped her mother’s other hand. She inhaled, exhaled, trying to focus on staying upright. She had to be strong, the way she’d been in the wake of Michelle’s death and her new pregnancy. She had to be as “solid as a rock.” That was how Joel had described her at the time.
“Michelle, I...” her father began.
Jennifer’s eyes snapped up toward him. Rage shook her. “Are you really too drunk to even know my name?”
All the color drained from her father’s cheeks. He dropped his chin to his chest and let out a long, horrible cry. Jennifer wanted to roll her eyes. She wanted to throw something at his head. But instead, she just took in the image of him: the once-great man, John Conrad, who now could hardly keep himself sober enough to call for an ambulance when his wife collapsed.
“Where did it happen?” Jennifer demanded. She decided to let him off the hook for the “Michelle” thing. Her thoughts were heavy with Michelle, too.
Her father sniffled. “She’d just come upstairs to get ready for bed. She collapsed at the end of the bed. At first, I thought she’d just drank too much wine.”
Jennifer wanted to point out the hypocrisy here but held her tongue.
“But she didn’t hear me when I called her name,” her father continued. “She didn’t hear me.”
“And you called the ambulance right away?” Jennifer demanded.
His eyes were hazy with a lack of memory. Finally, he said, “I called them as soon as I could, Jen. I really did.”
They held the silence for a long time. Jennifer was grateful that her mother’s skin was so warm, so smooth. It was clear that she’d already put on her nighttime hand cream. Again, Jennifer’s eyes pooled with tears. Over the years, she hadn’t allowed herself to consider the fact that one day, she would lose her parents, just the way she’d lost Michelle. She had no idea how she would handle it.
The doctor appeared minutes later to explain the situation. He was resigned and somber as he spoke. Jennifer wondered how many other people he’d had to deliver bad news to that evening.
“We’re still monitoring her,” he explained. “It was a hemorrhagic stroke, but if all goes well, we should be able to send her home with you in a week or so. Our team will be monitoring her in the meantime and more assessments will be done.”
“That’s so good to hear,” Jennifer breathed.
“When she does return home, however, things will be different,” he continued. “Depending on how things go, she will require round-the-clock care. She won’t be able to do most of the things she used to do.”
Jennifer’s throat tightened with fear. All her previous images of her mother, stirring and slicing and baking Christmas cookies, flew to her mind. All that laughter, all that love they’d shared, even in the midst of the heaviness of Michelle’s death.
“But we won’t know how bad it is for a few more days,” the doctor continued.
Jennifer thanked the doctor as he exited. She turned her eyes back toward her father as rage swam through her. Was it possible that had her father called the ambulance in time, her mother might have been able to recover better? Was his delayed reaction going to impede her recovery?
Would it make her feel any better placing blame on him? Of course, it wouldn’t, she thought to herself. She was just so angry with the situation at hand and what had been happening between her parents. It was hard to turn a blind eye to it.
“I can hardly look at you,” Jennifer hissed. She leaped up from her seat and walked back out to the hallway. Once the door closed, she burst into tears, the kind that made her stomach ache.
“Hey. Jen. Hey—”
The voice was so familiar. It was like a lighthouse in the middle of a dark ocean.
Jennifer opened her eyes to find him: the first and only true love of her life, her ex-husband, Joel. She fell into his outstretched arms as another sob barreled through her.
“Shhh. It’s okay.” Joel’s hand rubbed at her upper back. The hug wasn’t romantic in any sense, but it was precisely what she needed.
Finally, Jennifer fell back. She tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth collapsed almost instantly. “Thank you so much for coming,” she said. With a jolt, she remembered that he’d had plans that evening. Maybe she’d even interrupted a date.
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “You know I always come when Jennifer Conrad calls. I always have.”
Nick had burst up from the far end of the hallway. He looked frantic and wide-eyed, and his black hair shot out behind him as he raced toward them. When he reached Jen, he threw his arms around her and gasped for air. “Oh my God, Mom. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I wasn’t there.”
Jennifer pulled out of the hug and smile at her son and ex-husband. She felt an outpouring of overwhelming love.
“I wasn’t there either,” Jennifer admitted. “Dinner was canceled. I was out with the girls. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Okay, Nick?”
Nick nodded, still with a wrinkle between his brows. Jennifer felt much more tired than she’d been in a long time. Although she’d been around so much death in her life, Nick hadn’t experienced it so much. She hated the idea that he might lose his grandmother.
The three of them walked back toward the waiting room, where they found Olivia, Mila, and Amelia seated with their heads together, speaking intensely.
“I think she’s going to be okay,” Jennifer said to both Joel and Nick. “But it’s probably going to be a hard road ahead. It won’t be the kind of Christmas we’re used to.” She then flashed her eyes toward Joel. She wanted to add, not like Christmas had been the same since our separation and divorce. But she couldn’t handle saying it. It was too much.
They waited together for another thirty minutes. Their conversation floated from one topic to another, to the idea of hiring a nurse for round-the-clock care, to what would be done with the bakery, to whether or not Jennifer should stay the night at her parents’ place.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving him there in that house alone,” Jennifer s
aid softly. “No matter how angry I am.”
Joel rubbed her back again. She wanted to tell him that her father had done the unthinkable—called her Michelle, of all things. But saying the words aloud felt too heavy.
“I guess I’d better get the old man and bring him home,” Jennifer breathed. “Do you mind driving us?”
“Not at all,” Joel said.
The others nodded, as though it was up to them to “allow” Joel to drive them. Joel chuckled sadly. “Your posse says it’s all right.”
“We’re just here to watch out for our girl,” Amelia said. She rose, stretched her arms over her head with a yawn, and gave Joel a sleepy smile. “Good to see you again, Joel. It’s been a minute.”
“Good to see you girls, too,” Joel said. His eyes shimmered with sadness. “It’s been too long.”
Chapter Four
Joel drove Jennifer and her father, John, all the way back to Jennifer’s family home. John grunted in the back seat, something about how much snowfall they’d gotten that year. He seemed genuinely confused and still half-drunken. When Joel eased into the driveway, John made his way out of the back seat and out into the snow. Joel’s eyes reflected his worry.
“Are you sure you want to go in there with him? He seems really intoxicated still,” Joel said.
Jennifer’s sigh was long and painful. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ll put him in bed. I’m sure he’ll pass right out. He needs sleep.”
“You want me to come in with you?” Joel asked.
Jennifer was on the cusp of saying yes but thought better of it. She turned her head swiftly and shook her head. “I’ve got it handled. You’ve done enough tonight. Thank you so much, Joel. I really hope I didn’t interrupt anything too important.”
“This is important. You’re my family, no matter what,” Joel said.
Jennifer followed her blundering father into her childhood home. Once inside, she removed her boots slowly and watched as John Conrad marched toward the fridge in the back kitchen. There was the familiar sound of a beer cracking open. Then, there was the glug-glug of him, drinking much too quickly.
Jennifer appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and glowered at him. All the rage she’d shoved down into her belly back at the hospital reappeared now in dragon-form.
“Really, Dad?” she demanded.
John’s body froze. Slowly, he removed his beer from his mouth and turned around to look at her. For a moment, he seemed not to know who she was.
“I just don’t know why the first thing you have to do when we get back is grab a drink?” Jennifer demanded. “In case you forgot, Mom almost died tonight. And she might have had a better chance if you hadn’t been wasted out of your mind.”
Her father glowered at her. He looked every bit like the man he’d been twenty-some years before, eager to rip into her and Michelle when they’d broken curfew.
“You don’t tell me what to do in my own house,” John said, his voice stormy.
Jennifer marched forward, grabbed the beer right out of his hand, and then tipped it over the sink.
“Jennifer!”
“I have had enough,” she blared. “You’ve put Mom through so much stress the past few years. Do you know that? As far as I’m concerned, you’re the one who caused—”
“You think we have this perfect life, Jennifer?” her father demanded. “You think my life is so great? Do you think I like waking up every day like this? Hungover and out of my mind? You think I like that I need a drink to get through the day?”
“Well, it’s what you’ve been doing. So I don’t see why that isn’t the answer,” Jennifer returned.
“Come on, Jennifer. You’ve been married,” her father said. “You know it’s not easy. Your mom looks at me sometimes like I’m a stranger.”
Jennifer arched her brow. “That’s ridiculous. Mom does everything for you.”
“Whatever you want to say, Jen. You can get away with whatever, can’t you?”
Jennifer glared at him as he turned around and drew another beer out of the fridge. She really could have smacked him, but despite his age, he still towered over her, and his arms were still lined with plenty of muscles. It didn’t seem fair, especially since he treated his body like this.
“You have to pay attention to your health, Dad,” Jennifer blared. “You’re getting up there in age and...”
“Oh, come on,” her father returned. “You want to give me that crap right now? Your mom is going to be fine. She—”
“Maybe she won’t be, Dad,” Jennifer returned angrily. “They told us they’re going to monitor her and that she will probably be home in a week. But what if they’re wrong? Doctors are wrong all the time. If only you were paying attention, Dad. Mom counted on you, and you failed her.”
“If you plan on spending the rest of this precious night screaming at me, then I am going to have to ask you to leave,” her father said.
“Do you really think you can make it up the steps without me here?” Jennifer demanded.
“Get OUT!” her father cried.
Jennifer cut back toward the hallway. Her ears screamed with rage as she pulled on her boots and coat and headed back into the cold winter’s night. It took a long time for her to realize it, but as she marched through the darkness, another snowfall began to glide around her. It felt almost too beautiful for such a sinister night. She wanted to curse it, just as she’d wanted to curse the sun’s rise and fall in the wake of Michelle’s death.
2142 Green Hollow Road was the home she and Joel had purchased when they’d been married for three years already. At the time, Nick had been four years old, a wild, joyous thing, and Jennifer and Joel had had the kind of love she’d felt confident would last forever.
Now, she stood at the walkway and blinked up at the house, which was shadowed, strange and oddly hollow. It had been a long time since it had been filled with laughter and love.
She slotted her key into the lock and listened to the frantic yelp of her cat, Phoenix, who jumped down from the nearest bookshelves and rushed toward her legs. Jennifer dropped down to sweep her hand across the little black-haired beauty’s fur. “Look at you,” she breathed. “You’re probably starving.”
Phoenix had been a part of a litter that Amelia had discovered over in Oak Bluffs the previous year. The kitten had come at a welcomed time, at the tail-end of what their lawyer had described as “the easiest divorce ever.” Phoenix had seen Jennifer through quite a few lonely nights. This was to be yet another one.
“Oh, boy,” Jennifer breathed as she poured kernels of cereal into his bowl. “You don’t know how easy you have it, just being a cat.”
Suddenly, Jennifer’s phone rang. She glanced at it to discover a familiar name: Camilla.
“Hey,” Jennifer said. Her voice was resigned, somber.
“Hey! I just got off. I wanted to check in on you. The girls said, you went home with your dad. Is everything okay?”
Jennifer felt the weight of their argument. It pressed down on her heart. As she spoke, a sob crept through her voice.
“I just don’t know what to do with him. I came home. I couldn’t handle it.”
Camilla was quiet for only a split-second. It never took any of them very long to figure out what needed to be done.
“I’m coming over.”
“You don’t need to do that. You’ve been working for hours,” Jennifer said.
“What’s a few more hours?” Camilla said. “Come on. It’s not like any of us will be able to sleep after a night like this.”
Jennifer knew better than to fight her. She was the stubborn one out of the bunch. When it was time to lend a helping hand or a shoulder to cry on, there was no resisting. All of their love was too powerful for that.
Chapter Five
It didn’t take long for them to arrive.
Camilla traipsed into Jennifer’s home with a bottle of wine raised in one hand. After her came Mila, Amelia, and Olivia, all of them bundled up and bleary-ey
ed from the long night. Mila grabbed another bottle of wine from her bag and swept a curl behind Jennifer’s ear.
Jen flashed them a weak smile and said, “You all came.”
“Of course we did. You look like you’ve been through hell and back,” she said.
“You always know just what to say,” Jennifer said with a laugh. Frankly, she was surprised that she could even muster any kind of smile. That was the magic of the Sisterhood.
Olivia fetched five glasses of wine from the cabinet in the dining room while Amelia urged Jennifer to change into her pajamas.
“The rest of us are cozy,” Amelia said as she gestured toward her own sweatpants and sweatshirt. “Why not you, too? Go change, honey.”
Jennifer made her way to her bedroom, the one she’d shared with Joel for nearly twenty years. When she turned on the light, she found a different picture echoed back: a different bedspread than the one they’d shared, along with different artwork on the wall. The girls had insisted that she give the bedroom a makeover in the wake of the divorce. As much as she liked the change, she felt a strange stab of regret over it. She missed her old life.
When Jennifer reappeared in the living room, Mila turned soft rock on the speaker system and gestured for Jennifer to sit on the cloud-like couch. One of the girls passed her a glass of merlot. The first sip dripped languidly across her tongue.
“Tell us what happened,” Mila insisted.
Jennifer puffed out her cheeks, exhausted. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know why he has to get so drunk all the time. I get that in our family, the idea of therapy is a strange thing. None of us fully handled Michelle’s death in the right way—”
“Whatever the ‘right way’ is,” Olivia interjected.
“True. Very true.” Jennifer tilted her wine glass and watched the liquid stir in circles. “I feel like there’s something really wrong between my parents. Dad mentioned something about how difficult it’s been lately. Something about my own marriage falling apart.”
“It didn’t fall apart,” Amelia insisted. “You and Joel just erm...”