Finding Libbie (18 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The first snow of the season fell on the day Libbie came home. The hospital had kept her an additional day because she’d complained her head still ached and they wanted to be sure it wasn’t serious. The doctor sent her home with pain pills for her wrist and headaches. He didn’t know she was already taking Valium, and she hadn’t told him, either. The pain pills made her feel tired yet so agitated that she couldn’t sleep. She hoped the Valium would help her sleep better.

After making sure Libbie was comfortable on the sofa, Jack carried in all the beautiful flowers and gifts people had brought her. The cottage was clean and warm with the fire crackling cheerfully in the woodstove. But Libbie didn’t feel cheerful, despite the lovely flower bouquets set around the living room.

Jack came over beside her and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Are you feeling okay? Do you want to go lie in bed for a while?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her.

Libbie gave him a weak smile. Jack had been so attentive to her needs, and she was so thankful to have him in her life. She couldn’t imagine anyone else loving her as much as Jack did. “I would go in the bedroom, but it’s warmer out here,” she told him. Truth be told, she really just wanted to slip on warm pajamas and crawl into bed. She felt like she could sleep for a week.

Jack smiled widely. “I bought an electric heater for the bedroom so you’d be warm. And an electric blanket, too.”

“Really? That was so sweet of you. Then I’ll go to bed. I’m really tired.”

Jack helped her into the bedroom and got her flannel pj’s from the dresser. “Do you need help changing?”

Libbie laughed. “I’m not an invalid.”

“I know. But you look worn out.”

“I’ll be fine, silly.”

“Okay. Do you want something to eat? My mom brought food that I can heat up.”

Libbie shook her head. “I think I’ll just sleep right now. Can I have some water, though?”

“Sure. I’ll get you a glass.” Jack left and returned with a glass full of water and ice cubes. “Let me know if you need anything else,” he said before leaving.

Libbie changed into her pajamas. She pulled the bottle of pain pills out of the suitcase Jack had brought to the hospital. Then she went to her lingerie drawer and pulled out her Valium. She took one and hid the bottle away again. Then she swallowed a pain pill, too. Slipping under the warm electric blanket, she hugged the striped stuffed kitty that the girls had given her and waited for the sweet release of sleep.

The next two weeks dragged by for Libbie as the snow continued to pile up outside and the cold wind blew through the cracks in the old cottage. Jack had stayed home that first Monday to help Libbie, but after missing two days of work, he reluctantly went back on Tuesday. Libbie tried going back to her normal routine around the cottage, but it was much harder to clean and cook—or even heat up food—with the cast on her arm. She still had a headache, and the lump on her forehead throbbed when she stood for too long. She’d take a pain pill for her headache but they made her heart race, so she’d take a Valium, too. Then she’d have to lie down because she became drowsy. She tried watching television, but she’d soon doze off, and before she knew it Jack was home. Most nights, he’d heat up food for dinner because Libbie was too tired to do it. Jack told her often that he didn’t mind, he just wanted her to rest and get better, but she still felt guilty. She should be taking care of him after a long day of work, not the other way around.

At Libbie’s mother’s insistence, Sandra came to the cottage twice a week to clean since it was difficult for Libbie to do much with the cast. Sandra also took their dirty clothes to the Wilkenses’ house to wash and then dropped them back off at the cottage. Because Sandra was doing the majority of the work, it meant Libbie had even more time to dwell on her boredom and growing restlessness. Other than Sandra and sometimes Bev, who continued to bring meals that could be heated up, no one came to the cottage. Carol was busy with school, as were Candy and Jackie. Libbie wondered if the girls were avoiding her because of the accident. Nothing had ever been said to her about the fact that there had been wine in the car when they crashed. Maybe the girls were afraid they’d get into trouble for underage drinking and having fake IDs. Libbie didn’t mention anything to Jack about that night, either. He’d be so disappointed in her if he knew the truth, and it would make her feel even worse than she already did.

Three weeks after the accident, Libbie’s father surprised her by driving up in a brand-new 1970 Mustang. Libbie had been napping when she heard the knock on the door. She’d woken up slowly and opened the front door, and her eyes grew wide when she saw the blue convertible sports car sitting there, sparkling in the winter sun.

“Surprise, kitten!” her father said, a big smile on his face. Gwen had followed him in his car to drive him back to the office. She walked over to stand on the front porch, without even a trace of a smile on her face.

“Daddy! Thank you,” Libbie squealed, wide-awake now. She reached up, hugged him, and he kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

“I hope you like the color. It was this or a black one, and I thought the blue would match your eyes,” Randall told her, obviously pleased by her joyful response.

“I love it,” Libbie told him.

“You should,” Gwen grumbled. “Not everyone gets a brand-new car handed to them—twice.”

Libbie glanced at Gwen but ignored her comment. It wasn’t Libbie’s fault Gwen had two children and drove a station wagon. She went inside, grabbed her coat and slipped on her boots, then ran out and slid into the driver’s seat. The interior was black and it had a stick shift like her other one, which she liked, and there was even a cassette tape player, too.

“How does it feel?” Randall asked, coming to stand beside the car.

“It’s perfect, Daddy,” Libbie said, grinning up at him. “I can’t wait to get out of this cast so I can drive it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be able to drive it sooner,” he told her. “Just be careful this one doesn’t wrap itself around a tree.” He winked at her.

“I’ll be careful, I promise. Wait until Jack sees it. He’ll be surprised.”

Jack was surprised that evening when he got home and saw the brand-new Mustang parked beside the cottage.

“I see your father bought you a new car,” he said as he stepped inside. Libbie had been so excited about the new car that her spirits were high and she hadn’t taken her afternoon pain pill. She was carefully placing a casserole dish in the oven, and there were cut carrots waiting to boil on the stove.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked cheerfully. “I can’t wait to drive it.”

Jack smiled. He walked into the kitchen and pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly. “You must be feeling better. You look happy.”

Libbie giggled. “I am. I’ve been moping around in this cottage for three weeks now. I think it’s time I get busy again. I want to go back to work next week. Do you think I could drive the car even with this cast on?”

“I suppose, as long as your arm feels fine. You know next week is Thanksgiving, right?”

Libbie stopped and thought a moment. “I forgot all about that. But the library will still be open Monday and Wednesday. I really want to go back to work. It’s depressing sitting around here all day with nothing to do except watch it snow and put wood on the fire.”

“Then you should go back to work,” Jack told her. “Whatever makes you happy makes me happy.”

Libbie hugged Jack tight. “You’ve been so good to me these past few weeks. I’m lucky to have you, Jack. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, Libbie.” He grinned mischievously. “You know, there is a way you can thank me for being so nice.”

Libbie saw the teasing look in his eyes and laughed. “Let’s at least eat dinner first,” she told him. “Then we’ll see about that.”

Libbie called Mrs. Thompson the next day to ask if she could return to work on Monday.

“Of course you can, dear,” she told her. “We can’t wait for you to come back.”

On Monday morning, Libbie dressed in a warm sweaterdress with a matching coat and knee-length boots and got behind the wheel of her new car. She drove carefully, and much slower than she would normally drive. The roads were plowed and clear and the sun was out, but she felt nervous driving the curvy lake road for the first time in weeks. It was awkward, shifting with her cast on, too, but she managed.

Everyone at the library was happy to see her, and Libbie felt good being back at work again. But as the day wore on, she found herself growing tired and agitated. She hadn’t taken a pain pill that morning, or her Valium, and now she wished she had. Her hands shook as she tried to stamp books or put them away on the shelves. Many people who came in asked her about the accident and that made her nervous, too. She didn’t want to talk about it, but it was difficult avoiding their questions without appearing rude.

By the end of the day, she was worn out both physically and mentally. Mrs. Thompson noticed how tired she looked.

“If you only want to work half days for a while, that would be fine,” she offered. “I know it’s difficult for you to work with that cast on. But you’ll be getting it off soon, won’t you?”

Libbie nodded. She only had to wear it two more weeks. “I’ll try to work all day on Wednesday and see how it goes,” she told Mrs. Thompson.

When she got home, the fire had gone out and it was cold in the cottage. She turned on the oven, hoping it would heat up the room a little while she fumbled around, trying to start a fire. She was so tired; all she wanted to do was lie down. After she finally got a fire started, she took a pain pill and dozed off.

They spent Thanksgiving afternoon at her parents’ house. Jack had both Thursday and Friday off, so they were going to spend the next day at the farm. Working both days that week had left Libbie feeling tired. With Gwen’s two little girls running around and Walter talking on and on, Libbie’s nerves were frayed. She asked her dad to pour her half a glass of wine.

Jack glanced at her, one eyebrow cocked. “Should you have that with the pain pills you’ve been taking?”

“It’s just a little wine,” she snapped, and then immediately regretted it. “I didn’t take a pill today,” she said more gently, although it was a lie. She’d taken both the pain pill and a Valium, but it hadn’t been enough to get through today.

“Here you go, kitten,” Randall said, handing her a glass. “Not too much, though. It can hit pretty quickly.”

After the glass of wine, Libbie felt calmer.