Someone Like You (23 page)

“You knew?” Cat asked, astonished. “All of you?”

“We figured it out two weeks ago,” Nicki said while Bev nodded in agreement.

“Two weeks?” Denise sniffed. “It was longer than that. We probably knew before you did, Cat. There’s something in the eyes that’s a dead giveaway.”

Cat knew exactly what Denise was talking about. She’d seen that look in her mirror almost from the moment of conception. A look of such pure wonder and vulnerability that it rocked her to her very core.

“I’m seven weeks along,” she said as they all leaped up to smother her in hugs and well wishes, “which is why you haven’t been seeing much of me in the mornings.”

“Honey, nobody saw me anywhere for the first nine weeks with my kids,” Bev said as she cranked the ball winder attached to the worktable. “The good news is they say it means a healthy pregnancy.”

Cat pretended to knock wood against her left temple. “Then this is one very healthy pregnancy.”

“Your mouth to God’s ear,” Nicki murmured, crossing herself.

“It’s the guy who drove you up from New York, isn’t it?” Jeannie asked.

“Who else could it be?” Denise agreed. “If you were seeing anybody around here, believe me, we’d know about it.”

“His name is Michael,” she told them, beginning to feel like she should print up the information on business cards and hand them out to interested parties. “He’s a screenwriter. He’s lives in Manhattan.”

The five women stared at her as if she’d suddenly started speaking in tongues.

“You’re not going to move down there, are you?” Denise asked, eyes wide. “I mean, not that it’s my business or anything but still—”

“Why would I move down there?” Cat asked. “This is home.”

“But you two—I mean, once you’re married you’ll probably live together, right?”

“Who said anything about getting married?”

Taylor started to laugh, then caught herself as the other women shot “knock it off” looks her way. “You mean, you’re not getting married?”

“We’re not getting married,” Cat said. “I’m not moving down to New York. Michael isn’t moving up to Maine. We didn’t slip up. I didn’t forget to take my pill; he didn’t forget to use a condom. We didn’t have too much to drink, and we knew exactly what time of the month it was. We’re two adults who like and respect each other enormously, and we decided to have a child together.” She waited for the looks of embarrassment to fade from those familiar faces. “And that pretty much is the whole story.”

“We didn’t mean to—”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“I hope you don’t think—”

“Nothing will change around here,” Cat said as she endured another group hug. “If anything, I hope our workload increases, but other than that, I promise everything will stay exactly the same after the baby arrives.”

The five women exchanged glances.

“You’ll see,” Cat said. “There won’t be so much as a ripple around here.”

The five women, mothers all, laughed until they cried.

 

EVERYTHING WAS QUIET at Mimi’s house when Joely and Zach got there. They did a quick walk-through, then Joely and the young police officer walked the perimeter to check for damage.

“What exactly happened here?” she asked him as they joined Zach in the driveway.

“Your next-door neighbor saw two men trying to push in the back door,” the officer said. “She turned on her porch lights and called out, and they took off.”

“I don’t understand,” Joely said. “Why didn’t they go in through one of the broken windows?”

“Those boards make noise when you crack them open. Some back doors give with no resistance at all.”

“Okay, but there’s more I don’t understand. Why Mimi’s house? Look at this place. I think it’s pretty clear you’re not going to find anything of value in there.”

“Depends on what you consider valuable,” the cop said. “TVs, VCRs, computers are all fast cash out there.”

“I don’t think so,” Zach said.

Joely and the cop both turned to him.

“Why not?” she asked.

“I think it was paparazzi.”

The expression on the young policeman’s face was priceless. “Why would paparazzi want to get into Mrs. Doyle’s house?”
House
being a synonym for dilapidated handyman’s special.

“My mother used to be famous,” Joely said. “A long,
long
time ago.”

Zach quickly explained about the mention on
Entertainment Tonight
.

“I suppose that could have something to do with it,” the cop said, but it was clear he had as much trouble imagining paparazzi running wild through Idle Point as Joely did.

“You don’t really think photographers were trying to get into Mimi’s house, do you?” Joely asked after the cop left to take another call.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” He draped a companionable arm around her shoulders. “Your parents were something very special. Mimi just got national press on
ET
. They practically delivered a road map to her house.”

“But it’s been years since they made a record together. Mimi quit performing a lifetime ago. What’s the point of taking a photo of her burned-out kitchen?”

“Schadenfreude, for starters.” That weird little ripple of relief and fascination people felt when they drove by the scene of an accident. “Quick cash from the tabloids, for another.”

She shivered at the rightness of his observation. “You and Cat were on the money last night. We really do need to go through Mimi’s stuff and push this forward.”

“I don’t have anything going until this evening,” Zach said. “We could do a first pass and make it easier on Cat.”

“This place is a train wreck,” Joely said. “We’d be better off getting the world’s largest trash bag and tossing everything.”

But she wouldn’t do that. Cat wouldn’t let her, and to be honest, neither would her own conscience. It wasn’t just Mimi’s life hidden away in the damaged house, it was hers and Cat’s as well.

If nosy reporters and photographers really were on the prowl, this wouldn’t be the last time they tried to get into the house or, even worse, try to find Mimi at the hospital.

“Oh God,” she said, grabbing Zach’s forearm. “They not only mentioned the town, they said Mimi was in a local hospital.”

“Shit,” Zach said. “And that’s not going to be too tough to find.”

They jumped into Zach’s car and made it to Idle Point General in under three minutes flat. Joely leaped out at the front door and left Zach to find parking. She dashed through the lobby, bypassed the elevator for the stairs, then raced into the ICU, only to be reminded that Mimi was now in a semiprivate room on the fourth floor.

She took the stairs two at a time and was glad she did when she saw the knot of people surrounding the nurses’ station at the end of the corridor. The media onslaught had begun. A beehive of angry voices drifted toward her as she approached. Laquita’s controlled alto rose above them. “Absolutely not,” she said. “If you persist, I’m calling the police.”

“What’s going on?” she demanded as she elbowed her way to the desk.

“Good timing,” Laquita said. “We were just about to phone Cat.”

“Who’re you?” A short, dark-haired man edged closer. “Doctor? Lawyer? Daughter?”

“Daughter,” Joely said. “Who are you?”

New York Post. Boston Globe. National Enquirer. Star. People. Entertainment Weekly. E!
“Page Six.” The list was endless and more than a little daunting.

“No,” she said to requests for interviews. “No,” she said to requests for photos. “Over my dead body,” she said to pleas for ten seconds in Mimi’s hospital room with a tape recorder and digital camera.

She leaned close to Laquita. “I want to see her.”

“Wait until Security gets here. Otherwise they’ll be all over you.”

She saw Zach standing, arms crossed over his broad chest, near the other end of the hallway, looking like someone a wise man wouldn’t want to tangle with.

“Okay,” said a commanding male voice behind her. “What’s going on?”

Idle Point General’s security team rarely had a chance to flex its collective muscles and show what it could do, and the eight-person team put on a good show. Laquita motioned to Joely, and Zach covered for them as they slipped into the nurses’ lounge.

“This door leads to the family kitchen,” Laquita said as she held it open for Joely. “Mimi’s room is three doors down.”

“Thank you for what you did back there,” Joely said as they moved swiftly along the hall. “They actually tried to break into her house last night.”

“They’d have to go through me to get to her,” Laquita said. “Idle Point isn’t exactly on everyone’s list of hot spots to visit. Any idea how they knew about Mimi?”

“Blame Mary Hart,” Joely said. “It was on
Entertainment Tonight
.”

“I wonder where they got the information.”

“Zach told me that there’s good money to be made phoning in tips to the magazines.”

“You don’t think Zach—?”

“Not in a million years.”

“Just checking.” Laquita stopped in front of room 415. “She’s sharing with Diane Wills. Mimi’s the first bed.”

“How is she today?” Joely asked, as her system flooded with adrenaline. Fight or flight at its most basic level.

“Scattered,” Laquita said. “Her chronology is shot, and she’s not tracking too well. She might not recognize you.”

How would I know the difference?
Joely wondered as she stepped into the room.

The curtain between the two beds was drawn. Mimi’s bruises had blossomed overnight. Her face was a rainbow of purples and deep blues. The railroad track stitches looked starkly black against her pale Irish skin dotted by spots of dried blood. She hated the sight of the dried blood, iron brown and ugly. Why hadn’t anyone taken a washcloth and wiped it away?

A pitcher of water and a plastic glass rested on the nightstand next to Mimi’s bed. Somebody had placed a small packet of tissues and a washbasin on the folding chair near the bathroom. Joely ripped the cellophane covering off the packet and pulled out a handful of tissues. She dipped one end into the water, checked that it wasn’t too cold, then moved closer to the bed.

Mimi’s sleep was labored despite the oxygen tubes in her nose. Or maybe because of them. This was why she had opted for the research side of medicine. Hospitals unnerved her. They stripped you of your defenses and reduced you to symptoms and diagnoses. Mimi no longer seemed larger than life. She wasn’t the charismatic goddess of chaos who existed in Joely’s memory.

She was a vulnerable old woman who was somehow the center of the storm, and the thought of photos of her appearing anywhere made Joely physically ill.

“It’s Joely, Mimi,” she said softly. “Don’t be frightened. I’m going to wipe your forehead.”

As if Mimi had ever been frightened of anything but being a parent to her children.

She touched the tissue to her mother’s forehead, then drew back, heart thundering inside her chest, when Mimi’s eyes snapped open like window shades on a roller.

“I’m s-sorry, Mimi. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

No response. Those vacant watery blue eyes looked straight at her. Through her.

“See this tissue?” She held it in her mother’s line of sight. “I want to wipe your forehead, okay? It’ll feel good. I promise you.”

Three quick strokes. Mimi didn’t even blink. It was like caring for a life-sized doll.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned as Zach entered the room.

“Laquita told me where you were,” he said. “Do you mind?”

She was pathetically grateful to see him. “Why do they always leave little drops of blood behind? They can perform brain surgery and lung transplants, but basic hygiene is beyond them.”

He stood at the foot of the bed and smiled at a nonresponsive Mimi. “Priorities,” he said. “Life and death before aesthetics. They leave the cleanup to the family.”

“And what if there is no family?” she persisted. “Would they just leave her lying here with specks of blood all over her forehead?”

He pointed toward the bed. “Keep your tone light,” he cautioned. “She’s picking up on your distress.”

She glanced back at Mimi. He was right. The blank expression had been replaced by confusion that seemed to be sliding swiftly toward panic. “It’s okay, Mimi,” she said softly, unprepared for the flood of tenderness that rose up inside her chest. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want me to wait outside?” Zach whispered.

“No,” she said. “Please stay.”

“Hey, Mimi,” he said gently. “You knew I’d be back, didn’t you? I told you yesterday I couldn’t stay away.”

Mimi tried to shift position in the hospital bed, but the array of pulleys and tubes limited her options.

“Were you telling the truth last night?” Joely asked Zach as she touched a damp tissue to her mother’s blood-stained cheek. “Did she really try to protect me after the accident?”

“She really did.”

“It seems so—” She struggled to find the right words and couldn’t.

“Out of character?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Out of character,” she said.

“One thing I’ve noticed,” he said as their eyes met across Mimi’s bed. “Love doesn’t seem to come easy for you Doyle girls. Not even when it’s staring you right in the face.”

She bent down closer to her mother’s ear. “Zach told me last night how you tried to protect me after the car crash. I—” She cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

Mimi’s eyes opened, and her gaze settled on Joely.

“Mimi?” she asked, leaning even closer. “I know you tried to help me, and I—”

Mimi lifted her head. Her brow knotted as she continued gazing into Joely’s eyes.

“Do you know what I’m saying, Mimi?”

Mimi nodded and reached for Joely’s hand. Joely’s heart started to pound as her mother increased the pressure.