Reclaiming Lily (20 page)

“We have surveillance tapes, Joy. Living color of your every move.” Sarcasm now tinged Nicole’s confident tone. Gone was the effusive praise and encouraging smile. “It’s open and shut. There’s two choices. We’ll arrest you. Fingerprint you. Take a glamour photo.”

“Can you explain ‘station adjustment’ again?” Joy asked dully.

“You confess. No muss, no fuss . . . no record. As long as you’re compliant.”

A phone rang.

Nicole made it to her desk in four strides. She picked up her phone. “Barton. Um-hum. Right.” The phone rattled into its cradle. Nicole slid back into her chair. “Look. You’ve got two minutes to decide.”

Joy raised her head. A hollow look had replaced her sullen stare.

Pain pricked Gloria. She could not bear this! She leaned across the table. “Joy, what can we do—”

Nicole slapped the desk with her file. “Please, Mrs. Powell. I know you’re trying to help, but truth be told, you aren’t.”

You aren’t
. Gloria’s cheeks burned from the slap of the words. From the truth.

“Joy’s gotta accept blame for what she’s done and move on. It’s her choice.”

Andrew rustled about. Gloria stared at the art on the wall, expecting it—and her nerves—to explode.

“I . . . I did it,” came from behind a curtain of hair.

“Well, all right, then.” Nicole’s tone became giddy. “You have a real chance here. To turn things around.”

Joy twisted to face Nicole. “What do I do next?”

Nicole pointed to the form. “It’s all right here.”

Joy pushed back her hair, ducked her head, and pulled the paper close.

For the first time, Gloria realized that Joy’s glasses were gone.
Not sexy enough, I suppose
. She caught herself studying Joy’s cute nose, exquisite eyes, smooth brow. When, oh, when had her girl needed makeup, dyed hair, and vulgar clothes to feel beautiful? Wanted? Had she ditched her glasses because she couldn’t bear being called a dork? Why couldn’t she see her smarts as an asset?

“Let’s start at the top—FWPD Formal Station Adjustment.”

Joy scooted her chair close to the table and set down the document.

Andrew picked up his copy and studied it. Gloria pretended to do the same but flitted looks between Joy and Nicole.

“You’ve already gotten off to a good start, here today, by helping with the cleanup. Confessing. Agreeing to the FSA.”

Was that Joy, nodding? Gloria allowed herself to breathe.
Nicole knows her stuff. I should take lessons.

“It’s right there on the form, if y’all want to follow along.” Nicole held up the paper, pointing to the first paragraph. “Obey all laws and local ordinances. Obey rules and directions of parents/guardians.”

Gloria scanned the sheet. Boxes to check. Rules.
Joy won’t even make her bed; she’s suddenly going to comply with this?

“Attend school and remain in good standing. No contact with—” Nicole penciled something on her form. “We’ll talk about that later, Joy, in our one-on-one.”

The creep for whom she’s wearing the negligee? The one who talked her into scrawling graffiti on the school wall? Who taught her cuss words?
The one without a name, a face—at least for us?
Gloria held her breath so questions wouldn’t spew all over the room. There’d be time for questions later. After she, Andrew—Kai? Yes. Kai.—talked.

Joy quirked an eyebrow. “One-on-one?”

“Every week. Right here. You and me.” Nicole scribbled on her paper. “Or at— You go to Paschal, don’t you?”

“We’ll bring you over, Joy. It’s no problem,” shot out of Gloria.

Andrew squeezed her hand, a not-so-subtle warning.

Regret immediately pummeled Gloria. Too often she’d butted in when she shouldn’t.
Perhaps Nicole can meet one-on-one with me.

“Anyway, it’s all there. Restitution. A letter of apology. Community service.”

“Community service? Like . . . what?”

With her finger, Nicole traced the table edge. “Hmm. In your case, maybe the Harris welcome center.”

Joy sat straight. “You mean the hospital?”

“Yeah. You’d probably start at the front desk. If things go well, you’ll walk the wards. Deliver flowers.”

“Hmm.” Joy’s leg swing belied the noncommittal utterance.

Gloria blinked. The medical thing. Again.
And you didn’t have a clue
. After today, why should that surprise her?

Nicole unfastened her form from the clipboard, scribbled, and passed it to Andrew, who signed and handed it to Gloria.

Parent/Guardian__________________________________ Date: ________________

Parent.
Not caretaker. Not prodder. Parent. Gloria grasped the pen as if it were a lifeline to Joy.
Can a FWPD form signal a new start? Not just for Joy, but for me?
Gloria signed the form, dated it, and prayed with all her might that it would be so.

Joy took the document. Scrutinized it. Gloria kneaded her knuckles.
She has no option; it’s clear to us adults. But is it clear to Joy?

Joy lifted her head. Set down the pen. “Is this what you want me to do?” Her voice had thinned, as if she were no longer sure of herself.

Andrew leaned forward. “Well, hon, sure. I mean, think what a record would do to your future.”

“Joy, you have a future.” Nicole’s perkiness returned. “I talked to your advisor before mayhem descended. The only thing keeping you off the honor roll is your absences.” A leg swing erupted. “Nip that in the bud, and there’s no tellin’ what you can do.”

“Do you agree with that?” Joy’s gaze penetrated Gloria, searching. . . .

For what? Understanding of me?
From
me?
What I don’t know about Joy would fill every file in this room
.

“I . . .” Gloria pursed her lips, not sure what to say. But this wasn’t a trick question. “Yes, Joy.” She twisted her ring, oddly afraid to meet the gaze of her own daughter. “I think you should sign it,” she told her lap.

“Then y’all will do your part?” Joy asked.

“Of course.” Andrew smoothed into his preacher’s groove. “We’ll get you to counseling. Mom said—”

“No.” Joy brushed her paper. “I know you’ll do that. I’m talking about Kai. Treating her like my sister. Like she’s part of our . . . family.” Joy knotted her hands. “It’s like when I saw her . . . everything changed. I . . . like, can’t explain it, but I feel connected.”

Nicole again checked her watch. “Well, yeah, sure. I mean, I can understand that.” She pocketed her pen and pushed back her chair. Her leg kicks became frenzied.

Andrew found Gloria’s hand and squeezed it twice. Their code for
Let’s do it
.

“Yes, Joy. We’ll do our part. We’ll make Kai feel welcome.”

“You too, Mommy?” came out breathy. Desperate. “Do you promise?”

Gloria’s head swam with contradictory images. Kai, helping Joy find herself. Joy finding Kai . . . and them losing her. She dug her nails into her palm.
God, is this of you or not? If it is, why am I vacillating like an idiot?

Nicole kicked.

Andrew cleared his throat.

Joy began to mutter in her old rebellious way.

Gloria wiped sweaty palms on her skirt.
There’s no choice
.
If I don’t agree, I’ll lose her.
“Yes, Joy.” She stretched her lips into a smile. “You stick to your part of the bargain, I’ll stick to mine.”

“Do you really mean it?”

The pain in her daughter’s voice stripped Gloria of doubts. Pretense. Her fingers writhed, so desperate was she to do this right. To tell the truth, yet help her daughter. “This is all new to me. I won’t deny it’s hard.”

Joy’s mouth gaped. Air whistled between her lips.

Is she that shocked to see me for who I am? Unsure. Imperfect. Real? Talk about time for a change.
Gloria fisted her hands and took a breath. “I’ve loved you since the first time I set eyes on you, Joy. I will always love you. I want what’s best for you, as does your daddy.” Emboldened by the calm in her spirit, Gloria smiled at her daughter. “I . . . I think Kai can help us. I really do.”

Joy’s nostrils flared, her shoulders shook, in the way that always pulled at Gloria’s heart.

“I was wrong to doubt Kai’s motives,” Gloria added. “Forgive me.”

Joy’s eyes filled with tears. Then she picked up the pen, scribbled with abandon, handed the paper to Nicole, and wiped her eyes.

“Well, all right.” Nicole stuck the form into a file folder. Hand-shaking preceded their good-byes, as if a sacrificial pledge had been signed. And it had. The enormity of their commitment, of Joy’s commitment, lodged in Gloria’s chest.
We’ll all be giving one hundred and ten percent. Without you, God, it won’t happen.

They left Nicole’s office. When they neared the lobby door, Joy held back. “Mommy?” She used her little-girl voice. “Can I talk to you?”

As if afraid, Andrew scuttled away.

Her eyes downcast, Joy minced forward. “I . . . I haven’t done anything.”

Gloria’s breath spurted.
Praise God
. She clapped her hand over her heart.
Then why did you steal come-on clothes? Who is the creep?
Questions tightened her chest.

“Like nada,” Joy mumbled. “Zip.”

The sight of Joy’s bent head and contrite tone warded off questions.
Joy just gave up her independence to share what she
hasn’t
given up.

“Oh, Joy.” Gloria cupped her daughter’s face in her hands and looked into those lovely eyes. “Thanks for telling me.” A smoky smell prompted a question, but she squashed it, then stomped her foot to celebrate her small victory. They’d discuss tobacco . . . later.

Though neither of them spoke, their shoulders grazed as they entered the lobby. Those million miles between them had just been reduced—dramatically.

Andrew rushed forward and draped an arm around Joy, the other around Gloria. “Everything okay?”

Gloria nodded and gave Andrew a tell-you-later hand squeeze.

“Yeah. Like, yeah!” As if freed from her burden, Joy broke from them and skipped toward Kai, who embraced her as if they were lifelong friends, not day-old sisters. Joy waved her hands, Kai nodded, easily interpreting, accepting each move.

Gloria’s lips tightened.
They are naturals. Unlike Joy and me.

“I’ve been thinking about how to do this.” Andrew’s breath tickled Gloria’s ear and soothed her conflicted feelings. What would she do without Andrew to think like a Christian when she wasn’t? Act like a Christian when she didn’t?

“Kai needs to tell Joy about PKD.”

Gloria battled prickles of fear. “Don’t you think it’ll overwhelm her if she hears about that and the new baby?”

“Joy needs the truth. Kai’s obviously got her ear right now, so she’s the one to tell her.” Andrew scuffed the floor with his loafer. “If Joy has this PKD, a station adjustment’s only the tip of the iceberg. She’ll need a good doctor. A good sister. Plenty of support. Which God seems to have packaged in Kai.”

Transplant. Dialysis. Snatches from that dreadful report Kai had shown them—was it only this morning?—ran through her mind. Gloria seized her husband’s arm. “Andrew, I’m scared.”

Andrew brushed hair wisps from her face. “We’ve got to give this to God.”

How many times had she heard that? Ignored that? She nodded mutely. It was time to listen to her husband. Her preacher. Her lover. It was time to listen to her God.

As Gloria and Andrew made their way to the sisters, Joy threw back her head and erupted in laughter.

A thrill cascaded through Gloria. Twenty-four karat, every syllable of bubbling glee.
I haven’t heard that laugh in . . . too long.

A sunbeam poured in the lobby window and spotlighted the sisters. Gloria shut her eyes, begging holy warmth, holy peace, to melt her fear. She’d never believed in coincidences. Kai had been led here by God, who had perfect timing.

“Hey.” Andrew lightly cuffed her shoulder. “Back to the plan, huh? Let’s take Kai to her hotel. She probably wants to clean up.” He glanced at the chattering sisters. “We’ll go home, do the same, and then meet her downtown. Do steak. Mexican, if she wants it.”

“Joy’s stomach . . .”

Andrew’s face fell. “Oh, yeah. Then steak it’ll be. We’ll celebrate, Texas-style!”

Gloria studied his face. “Are you sure we should tell . . . both of them?”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “No, I’m not sure, but we just agreed—just promised—to include Kai.” He let go of Gloria. “I’ll see if that plan works for Kai.”

Gloria felt the room whirl, as if the tornado had encored. How many years of her life had been spent in waiting? Worrying? For Daddy to come back home. For a godly man. For Joy. For Joy to fit in. She hadn’t realized until now, but she’d never accepted the present time as a gift. She had never really lived.

As Andrew talked, Kai nodded. Joy nodded.

Gloria joined the nodding. With God’s help, she’d fling off the smothering shroud of waiting, worrying, and live for today. Face the sorrows, the joys, the good, the bad—not only because it was right, but because she was sick to death of living the other way.

14

Four hours ago, a killer spun through here.
Bone-tired, Kai leaned against the detention center’s brick wall and watched cars zip down the freeway.
Now it’s business as usual.
“Miracle.” Kai savored the taste of the strange word. Gloria had allied with her, another miracle. Oh, that more miracles were in store for Joy.

Having declined a ride in the rolling trash bin, Kai waited for a taxi. She pulled out her cell phone to again try David. Strange, him not calling back on his day off. . . .

She started to push
2
on the Speed Dial that David had set up for her, wishing that his arm rested about her shoulder in his intimate yet proper way. As the sun beamed warmth on her face, Kai closed her eyes and let memories carry her to Boston. . . .

On a crisp autumn day, they’d strolled the Public Garden, a favorite—and rare—date stolen from impossible practice hours and nights on call. On a cobbled path, they’d met a little girl. Tears sparkled her wide brown eyes. A chubby fist clutched peanuts.