“Tell me about your young man,” her mother said.
“Tanner.”
“Yes, Tanner. I want to hear all about him—how you met, what he’s like, why he’s the right boy for you. And tell me”—her voice caught, and she cleared her throat—“tell me about my granddaughter.”
So she did. Anna listened intently, laughing and gasping by turns when the story called for it, and Joy was caught up again in all that had happened as she reconstructed the memories that for weeks had eluded her. The afternoon light was slanting toward evening as her story drew to a close.
“Is he good to you?” her mother asked at length.
“Oh, absolutely.”
“When he’s wrong, can he apologize and mean it? Or does his pride get in the way?”
“No, he’s very humble. Too humble, if anything. I’m trying to help him become more confident.”
“That’s my girl.” She reached out to smooth Joy’s hair back, letting her hand rest on her cheek for a moment. “Would you like me to braid your hair?”
She didn’t have to add for the last time. Joy nodded, not trusting her voice, and turned around to sit with her back to her mother.
Behind her, the soft voice continued. “Pride can be really corrosive sometimes. Your father… I worry about him. About him going forward, I mean.” Again Joy filled in the unspoken words: without me. “He’s asked Eleanor and Mo to fix it so that he won’t remember I came back.”
“What!” Joy started to turn, but her mother’s hand on her shoulder held her in place.
“I tried to talk him out of it. They did, too.”
“But if he doesn’t remember—”
“What’ll keep him from trying to bring me back again? He’d thought of that. He told them that he wants to remember only that he tried, and that no good came of it.”
“That’s a lot for the council to pull off,” said Joy, troubled, and a soft sigh from Anna showed that she agreed.
“It may work. It may not. It’s going to be hard for him, either way. I need you to promise to help him.”
“Of course.”
“I know sometimes he can act like a stubborn old fusspot. But he loves you, and he’s proud of you, even if—”
Her voice broke off, and her hands stilled on Joy’s hair.
“Why’d you stop?” Joy asked, turning, and found that her mother was gone.
There wasn’t even an indentation on the bedspread to show that she had been there. A cold, forlorn shiver crawled up from Joy’s stomach, but she called, “Mom?” even though she knew it was futile.
She opened the door of her room and ventured into the hallway. Her parents’ door was shut, and she didn’t have the heart to disturb her father.
The living room was dim, and she switched on a lamp beside the sofa. Her mother’s piano sat with the lid closed, the music rack empty. Her purse wasn’t on the bench by the door. The air no longer carried the scent of her jasmine perfume.
Nothing but absence.
No, not quite nothing. A bright pink diaper bag sat in one armchair. And then a faint sound drew her eye toward the front door. The handle was turning.
She stood transfixed, unable to move as the door swung slowly open to reveal a figure that brought gladness rushing to her heart with painful force.
“I’m home,” said Tanner.
She ran into his arms.
Chapter 17
Everything finally seemed back to normal at the Sumner house.
Well, as normal as things could be with a new baby settling in. Joy and Tanner learned to sleep lightly, to keep half an ear at all times tuned for the sound of Rose’s cry. They learned to get by on less sleep… a lot less sleep. Joy learned how to squeeze household chores into odd times to fit around Rose’s schedule of feedings and naps.
Also preventing things from quite being normal was the fact that they didn’t know where Raven was or what progress he might have made toward reviving Melisande. They renewed the magical security features to protect the house, and always carried salt and silver and rowan. Joy’s father made a tiny rowan charm for Rose, which Joy attached to a silver wrist band for her to wear all the time. But there had been no sign of Melisande so far, and it was now nearly two weeks past the reboot—almost seven weeks since Rose’s birth.
Like his daughter and son-in-law, Steven was making adjustments. He developed the skill of marking up exams while holding Rose in one arm. He learned to change a diaper almost efficiently as Joy and Tanner.
“And Rose,” Tanner announced, rocking his daughter in his arms and making faces at her, “is learning to make us all jump to do her bidding. I predict that she’ll grow up to be our first woman president. Or a pirate queen. Maybe both.”
Joy removed a bottle of formula from the basin of water where it had been warming and smiled at her daughter. “She can be whatever she wants to be, as long as she starts letting us get more than two hours of sleep at a stretch.”
“I’ve told you, I’ll be happy to take one of her night feedings,” said Steven from the armchair where he sat with a pile of essays. The pile was largely untouched, though, since he would rather watch his granddaughter’s feeding than grade. “Your mother and I switched off when you were little. I think I remember how it’s done.”
The mention of her mother created a little silence, and Joy belatedly rushed in to fill it. “I appreciate it, Dad. But you need a good night’s sleep before teaching. Here, Tan, I’ll take her. I know you need to get to work.”
Tanner waited until she got settled into the other armchair with a pillow on her lap before carefully handing Rose over so that Joy could give her the bottle. Rose drank with her blue eyes wide open, studying the faces of her parents as they hovered over her, and Tan smoothed the brown hair that grew in cowlick swirls.
“She’s amazing,” he said half under his breath, and leaned in to kiss Joy softly. “You’re amazing.”
“I think that’s your favorite word now. Would you mind fetching me one of her burp cloths?”
“I can’t help it,” he said cheerfully, going in search of the cloth. “It’s the only word that seems to apply.” He handed Joy the square of terrycloth, kissed her again, and headed toward the door, where he grabbed his jacket from the bench. “I’ll see you in a few hours, babe. Call me if you need anything, promise?”
“I will.” Once he was out the door and she heard the engine of the minivan start, she gave an involuntary sigh of relief and felt her shoulders relax. Rose watched her with thoughtful eyes as she drank from her bottle, reminding Joy that she was still under scrutiny. “Dad, you need to leave soon, don’t you?” she prodded.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose I do.” He began the morning ritual of fetching his briefcase, stowing graded assignments in it, gathering the books he’d be lecturing from. Then his keys. His jacket. His glasses? He was wearing them. Joy thought he had become more absentminded lately. Just age, or something more?
“I was just thinking,” he said now, pausing in his pottering, “how much like your mother you look with Rose in your lap. I can really see a resemblance.”
“That’s… that’s nice, Dad.”
“Yes. Yes, I think it is.” All of his belongings finally gathered, his jacket put on, he paused at the front door to beam at her. “A very strong resemblance.”
She summoned a goodbye smile. Then the door opened and closed again. “Alone at last,” she sighed to Rose.
He was bringing her mother up a lot now. The council seemed somehow to have granted his wish to forget that he’d ever altered history to bring his wife back, but he seemed to be reminded of her now by every little thing. Joy didn’t quite know what to do about it. She had finally decided that it seemed to do no harm—if anything, the memories of Anna seemed to bring comfort to him—but it kept her own sense of loss painfully fresh. Her father’s memory had been wiped, but Joy’s hadn’t, and she felt the loss as if it were raw and new… which it was. It took a big effort to remain matter-of-f
act and cheerful every time he mentioned her.
She felt herself tearing up and wiped her eyes with the burp cloth. “Sorry,” she said to her baby. “You’ve had quite enough of your mother raining tears on you. I need to get it together.”
But to have lost her mother just when she most needed her—when she most needed a confidante to listen and advise her—
Stop it. When Rose’s gulps slowed and her eyes began drifting closed, Joy set the bottle aside and carried her to the crib in her bedroom, patting her back gently. Laying her down and drawing a blanket over her, she gazed down at her baby for a moment of contentment. Right now, with just the two of them, she could stop worrying. But those moments never lasted long.
She leaned down to place a kiss on her daughter’s forehead before she stepped into the hallway and took out her phone.
“Hello?” The female voice that answered wasn’t Donna’s. Startled, she drew the phone away from her ear to make sure she’d thumbed the Hartwells’ number.
“Hello?” asked the voice again, more impatiently.
“I’d like to speak to Donna, please.”
“She’s out at the moment. Can I take a message?” The voice had a trace of a Southern accent, and sounded like someone not too much older than Joy. “I’m Ginny, by the way, her daughter.”
“Oh! I didn’t know you were visiting. How nice. I’m Joy Sumner. Donna may have mentioned—”
“Not visiting,” said the voice dryly. “I crawled home to Mama and Daddy when my rat of a husband decided to start stepping out on me. Chuck Junior and I are gonna be here awhile, looks like, since the bastard has everything in his name.”
“I’m so sorry,” stammered Joy. “I had no idea.” Bobby and Donna had never said anything about Ginny’s marriage being in trouble.
“No reason you should,” said the voice in world-weary tones. “I’ll tell my mother you called. I’ve gotta let you go now. Little Bit’s trying to get into Duke’s food dish.”
Joy broke the connection and stood perplexed in the hallway. Was there something in the water these days? Tasha and Jeremiah had just broken up too. Tasha had come over one night to visit Joy and the baby and ended up confiding that they had decided to go their separate ways. It made no sense; they’d always been great together. Even Tasha herself didn’t quite seem to understand how it had happened.
She tried Gail, and was dismayed to get voicemail. Well, maybe Maddie was her best choice after all. A grownup would probably tell her to get checked out by her doctor, and she was too afraid to talk to a doctor. What if there was nothing medically wrong with her—nothing that could be explained and treated?
One of the great things about Maddie was that she didn’t need persuading. She borrowed a day student’s car and came over during lunch period. She and Joy had sandwiches in the kitchen, where Joy could keep an ear out for Rose, down for another nap.
“If you’re hoping for a romance status report,” said Maddie, “I don’t have a lot to tell you that’s new. William’s still kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“But he’s not pushing you away anymore, is he?”
“No, he’s past that. And he’s forgiven me for zapping Sheila out of existence, which is what I was really scared about. But apparently even demon-summoning bitches can worm their way into a guy’s heart, and he’s still not totally over her.”
“I’m sorry, Mads.”
“Aw, it’ll work out. Anyway, I’ve been kind of preoccupied myself. I just found out that my mom and stepdad are breaking up. It just came out of nowhere.” Less gloomily she said, “So how’re things with you? Are you and Tanner getting used to being parents?”
“I think so. There’s a lot to get used to. We’re lucky Rose is such an angel.”
“Is Tanner pulling his weight?”
Joy smiled at the skeptical tone. “You don’t have to worry that he’s not doing right by us, Maddie. He’s a great dad. She’s a little fussier with him, probably since he works all day and she’s not as used to him, but yes—he’s definitely doing his part.”
Maddie polished off her pickle spear and sat back in her chair. “So why the distress call?”
It was so hard to say it, but she just had to talk about it with someone. She finally got the words out. “Things haven’t felt right between Tanner and me since the reboot.”
“What kind of things? Bow-chicka-wow-wow things?”
Joy blushed. “It’s hardly been six weeks since the baby was born. I haven’t felt ready for that yet.”
Maddie spread her hands. “I’ve never had a baby, I don’t know about this stuff. So if it’s not bedroom troubles, what is it? Is he seeing you differently now that you’re a mom?”
“He doesn’t seem to be. He’s been really sweet and attentive… and that’s what makes it so crazy. I miss him! He’s right there, but I miss him. I feel like he’s gone somehow.”
Maddie frowned. “Do you think there’s something supernatural going on? Like his soul is AWOL or he’s possessed or something?”
“He’s not different in any way I can see. Everything he says is like him, and all our inside jokes and memories are still there. He’s Tan. I’m afraid that I’m the one who’s changed.” She swallowed hard. “I just don’t feel the same way I used to about him.”
“How do you mean? You can’t possibly mean you don’t love him anymore.”
Joy couldn’t even look at her, let alone speak.
“Oh, shit,” said Maddie helpfully.
“I feel like such a horrible person,” Joy blurted. “He’s been nothing but kind and loving, and still when I look at him I don’t feel anything. And it makes no sense, because I still love the Tanner I remember. When I picture him before Rose came, and remember being with him, I love him so much it hurts. And yet when I’m with him…” She shook her head helplessly. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Does he know?”
“God, I hope not. The last thing I want is to hurt him. I’m trying as hard as I can to act like everything’s the same, but it’s exhausting—it’s like being onstage all the time. Only worse because I hate every second of it.” She was drawing on every single technique she’d ever learned in her drama classes, but she lived with the constant fear that Tan would notice something wrong and ask her what was up. She shivered at the idea. She had no idea what she’d say if he did ask. He deserved honesty from her, but he didn’t deserve to have his heart broken.
“Back up a minute,” said Maddie now. “Have you asked your dad if anything supernatural could be going on?”
Joy bit her lip. “I’m afraid to. I don’t want to risk waking up the memories of Mom and making him remember that he lost her again. Even if I did ask him, I don’t think he could hold it in his mind long enough to suggest anything.”
“And you’re positive Tanner’s not an impostor?”
“Like I said, he’s the same Tan. It’s not like when Raven shifted into him that time in the kitchen, and got so many things wrong. This is really him.” She stared bleakly at the tabletop and pushed a few crumbs around with a forefinger. “I’ve just got to face it that somehow I’ve fallen out of love with him.”
“Joy! That’s crazy talk. I don’t see how this could have just happened, boom, all of a sudden. Maybe you’ve still got pregnancy hormones swirling around and they’re changing how you feel. Like postpartum depression, sort of. Could you talk to Dr. Patel?”
Joy just shook her head. She didn’t want anyone to tell her that what she feared most was true.
Maddie’s next idea was offered hesitantly. “Do you think missing your mom could be it? I mean, you’re grieving.”
“I guess that could be part of it. Or it could be something else.” Joy took a deep breath and met Maddie’s eyes. “Something may have gone wrong with the reboot.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe I didn’t come back right,” said Joy.
Maddie’s disbelieving stare made her feel a tiny bit better.
“Hogwash,” said her friend stoutly. “You’re the same Joy. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be feeling so bad about this. I say talk to Dr. Aysgarth.”
“I hate to bug her with something personal.” Not to mention how hard it would be to talk to her about this. If only Mom were still here…
“If magic’s a part of it, she’s the best person to figure it out.” Maddie glanced at her phone and pushed her chair back. “I’m sorry, it’s time for me to get back to school. Will you be okay?”
Joy shrugged. The way she was feeling, it didn’t seem wise to commit herself. Maddie gave her a long look and then pulled her into a hug.
“Talk to Dr. Aysgarth,” she ordered. “I mean it.”
“Okay.” She hugged Maddie back, grateful for the comfort.
“And stop feeling guilty! It’s not like you’re feeling this way on purpose.”
Knowing that didn’t make the guilt go away, though. Joy walked her out to the porch to see her off, wishing Maddie could stay. Wishing she didn’t feel so alone.
Wishing, more than anything, that she would wake up and find that all this had just been a bad dream.
* * *
Tanner was dreaming of Joy. He and she were standing in front of the magistrate, hand in hand, being pronounced man and wife. He leaned down to kiss his bride, and in her enthusiasm Joy threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.
Too tight. She was squeezing the breath out of him.
“Take it easy, babe,” he told her, trying gently to loosen her hold. But her grip didn’t ease, and his lungs began to ache for breath. When he looked at Joy again he felt a chill of horror as he saw that her hair had turned to a platinum-blonde waterfall, and her eyes were a vivid green. Melisande.
He struggled to wake. With a monumental effort he dragged his eyes open…
…and woke to find a globulous white mass sitting on his chest.
Big as an ottoman, it pressed down on his ribcage, making him strain to breathe. It had no face or features. Milky-white pseudopods like unformed arms plugged his ears, and the only reason he didn’t yell at the sight of it was that a third outgrowth was clamped over his mouth like a suction cup.
Among the Shadows (The Ash Grove Chronicles) Page 20