The Peculiar Miracles of Antoinette Martin: A Novel (11 page)

“Is it how you remembered?” Seth asked. The steps creaked under his feet.

Lily went to the clematis. The flowers were so full and heavy she was surprised the plant didn’t topple over under its own weight. Last night’s rain drops were scattered across the vine, each one a miniature crystal. “Yes and no,” she said. Coming home was like rereading a beloved childhood book as an adult. The same, yet different.

She cupped a blossom that was as big as her hand. It was a double bloom, the petals like layers of tissue paper. “It’s too early for this to flower. Did you have a warm spell?”

Seth wasn’t listening. He was looking over her shoulder, through the screen door. Lily dropped the flower and followed his gaze. Inside, she saw Rose and Cora Jenkins. The skin under Rose’s eyes was the color of old pewter, and she stood hunched over, as if her body were caving in on itself.

“Oh no you don’t,” Seth murmured as he ran into the kitchen.

Lily followed him but once inside folded herself into a corner of the room. An iPod on the counter played Vivaldi’s “Spring.”

Rose’s gaze skimmed past Seth and lingered on Lily. They locked eyes, and Rose smiled.

Lily took a step toward her sister and only then noticed the little girl lying at Rose’s feet. Her white-blonde hair fanned out behind her, and her legs were akimbo. She stretched one hand toward Rose as if trying to grab her mother’s ankle.

“There she is,” Seth said as he reached for the girl.

“Antoinette?” Lily whispered. The young girl was fragile-looking, like a glass figurine. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and her eyes seemed too big for her face.

Startled, Rose looked down, then quickly stepped away as Seth scooped up Antoinette and tossed her into the air. Lily drew in a sharp breath, worried the girl would shatter. Without thinking, she reached for her niece, ready to catch her should she fall.

“You came,” Rose said, her voice wavering for an instant as she wrapped her arms around Lily.

Lily was a head taller than her sister, and Rose’s arms were thin as willow branches. Lily felt like she was hugging a child instead of her older sister. “Of course I came,” she said. Her throat burned, and she clutched Rose as if afraid she might disappear.

“It’s good to have you home,” Cora said when Rose pulled back. She pressed her lips into a tight line and nodded. “Rose has been on her own for too long.”

“She hasn’t been on her own,” Seth said, his voice sharp. Antoinette struggled in his arms, still trying to reach Rose. “I’ve been here.”

Antoinette groaned. She smacked Seth’s back with one hand and reached for Rose with the other.

“Calm down,” Rose said, stepping out of Antoinette’s reach.

“It’s not the same as family.” Cora tucked her long dark hair behind her ears and directed a pointed look at Lily.

“Cora—” Rose started.

“No,” Lily said. She stared at the hardwood floor, more scuffed now than it had been the last time she had been home. “She’s right, I should have—”

“Not your business, Cora,” Seth said. Antoinette squirmed and he tightened his arms around her.

Cora arched her brow, but she stopped talking.

Antoinette threw her head back and screamed. She put both hands on Seth’s chest and pushed.

“What’s wrong?” Lily asked.

“Is it a seizure?” Cora asked. “Should I call the paramedics?

Yes
, Lily thought,
paramedics are a good idea
. Epilepsy was associated with an increased mortality rate.

Seth paced, trying to calm the girl, but she continued to scream. He just held her tighter and kept walking.

“No,” Rose said with the voice of someone who had been through this scene a million times before. “She’s not having a seizure. She’s mad. Calm down, Antoinette. You can’t get down until you stop screaming.”

But Antoinette didn’t stop. Lily was amazed that such a loud noise could come from such a little child. The urge to count crept over Lily, and she pressed her fingernails into her palms to keep it at bay.

“Take her to the family room, Seth,” Rose said. “Maybe she’ll stop if she can’t see me.”

Antoinette’s face was pinched and red, and the tears rolling down her cheeks made her hair stick to her face. Seth seemed unfazed by her behavior. He carried her to the adjacent family room and walked in circles, holding her close.

Lily counted the kitchen’s wood floor planks, pressing her lips together so she wouldn’t say the numbers out loud. She was on ten when Rose said, “Antoinette gets frustrated.”

On the iPod, a new symphony had begun.
Vivaldi’s “Summer
,” Lily thought.

“It’s hard for her,” Rose said, “not being able to speak.”

Lily mouthed,
Sixteen
, then closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Still counting?” Rose asked.

Lily blushed, but she nodded.

Antoinette whimpered, and Rose peeked into the family room. The little girl slumped against Seth’s shoulder. A thin line of drool ran from her mouth down his back.

Rose went to him and touched his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You can set her down now.”

Gently, Seth lowered Antoinette to the floor. Her knees folded under her like an accordion, and she plopped down, spent from her temper tantrum.

Rose sank down next to her daughter.

Seth stepped back to give them room. He crossed to stand next to Lily. “You okay?” he asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know.” Lily watched her sister. Rose’s skin had a blue tint, but her eyes were bright. “Does she do that a lot? Antoinette, I mean.”

“Does it matter?” Cora asked. “You’re family.”

Lily repressed a sigh. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

“Only when she’s upset,” Seth said. “And with Rose’s health, she has a lot to be upset about.”

Rose ran her hands through Antoinette’s thin hair. The little girl let out a sob. “Shh, it’s okay,” Rose said. As she spoke, Antoinette’s eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

Lily felt like she was intruding. She stepped back and bumped into the wall. Seth touched her back, steadying her.

“You’re good with her,” Lily said to him.

“She’s just a little girl,” Seth said. “No different from anyone else.”

Lily frowned but didn’t say anything.

Cora turned off the music. The sudden silence filled the room. “Is she okay?” She walked over to Rose and peered at Antoinette.

Rose dropped her chin to her chest, and her shoulders slumped. “She’s fine. She’ll sleep for a while.”

“Want me to carry her to her room?” Seth asked.

“No,” Rose said. “Let’s pile some pillows on the floor. She can sleep here.”

Seth went upstairs to get some pillows and Cora followed.

When they left, Lily felt like a spotlight had been turned on her. “I’ll just—” She gestured to the kitchen and walked to the back door. She turned the doorknob; it squeaked the way it had when she was a child.

“Don’t go,” Rose said. She rocked back on her heels and closed her eyes. “I need you. I’ve needed you for a long time. I was just too stubborn to admit it.”

Lily glanced at Antoinette and took a deep breath. Her hands shook as she walked toward her sister. This was why she came home. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

ASIDE FROM ANTOINETTE
curled on a nest of pillows at one end of the family room, Lily and Rose were alone. Cora left once Antoinette was settled, and Seth was upstairs getting a quilt. Lily stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, hoping she didn’t look as awkward as she felt.

The room had changed. If she had thought about it logically, she would have realized that with their parents gone, Rose would change the house to suit her needs, but home was the one place Lily’s heart ruled, not her head. Over the years, whenever she thought of home, the house was frozen in time, remaining the way it had been in her youth.

The family room used to have beige walls and a desk overflowing with receipts and flower catalogs. Now the walls were moss green, and the desk was gone. Coffee-table art books were stacked on the floor. The biggest difference, though, were the black-and-white photos of Antoinette hanging above the plush couch.

The pictures were fascinating. In one, Antoinette knelt, her nose brushing the petals of a coneflower. In another she stood with her head thrown back, a wide smile splitting her face. In most of them she looked like a normal little girl.

“Did you take these?” Lily asked.

Rose sat on the couch, her elbows on her knees. She nodded. “It’s not easy getting a good picture of her. She’s almost never still.”

“I can tell it’s your work,” Lily said. “The contrast between light and dark reminds me of the plant studies you did for your college portfolio.”

For the first time that morning, Rose brightened. “I haven’t thought about that in years.” She craned her neck and looked up at the photos. “College seems like a lifetime ago.”

“Like we were different people then,” Lily said, shifting nervously, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

When they were children, Rose had seemed to her like a giant. Though just over five feet tall, she filled a room when she entered it.

“We
were
different then,” Rose said. “Younger, at least. Naive—”

“Scared,” Lily said at the same time, their voices overlapping.

Seth returned and covered Antoinette with a blue quilt. “She calmed quickly this time,” he said, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Lily looked again at the photos hanging over the couch. There were seven. The odd number and their asymmetrical arrangement made her uncomfortable. She pushed her hair back from her face and plucked at her shirt. “Cora said Antoinette has seizures?” she asked to distract herself.

“Yes. And they’re getting worse.”

“Seizures can shorten life expectancy.” Lily had not meant to say that. She pressed her lips together wishing she could recall the words. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Of course you would know that.”

“I know exactly how dangerous seizures are for Antoinette,” Rose said as she sank deeper into the couch.

“Hello?” A man’s voice called out as the back door opened. “Is anybody home? It’s Eli.”

Seth gave Antoinette’s shoulder one last pat and stood. “I’ll see what he wants.”

Lily turned her attention to Antoinette. She was amazed that this was the same little girl who had fit in her hand when she was born. “Why did she get so upset?” Lily asked.

Rose let her head fall back against the couch. “It’s complicated.”

Muffled voices drifted in from the kitchen. Lily spread her hands. “What about this has been simple?”

At that, Rose smiled. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said.

As if Lily could have stayed in Covington, waiting for the call that told her Rose had died. “We’re sisters,” she said, and that explained everything.

Seth returned with Eli Cantwell. Lily remembered visiting Eli as a child. Each time their mom took Rose and Lily into town, they’d run to the Bakery Barn while their mom chatted with Teelia Todd in Knitwits. MaryBeth was always waiting for them with yellow smiley-face cookies.

Now Eli held out a bakery box tied with a yellow ribbon. “I heard you were home,” he said to Lily. “Welcome back.”

Lily smiled her thanks and took the box. She glanced at Eli’s thin body thinking he looked like a stork, with spindly arms and legs, and a beak nose.

“Go on, open it.” Eli waved his hand. “MaryBeth thought you’d like them.”

Lily opened the box and peered inside at the stack of iced cookies. They weren’t yellow this time. They were pastel shades of blue and purple and pink, but each one had a smiley face. Lily grinned. “I can’t believe she remembered. Tell her thanks.”

Eli nodded toward Antoinette. “She still tired from last night?” he asked. “I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life.”

“No. She’s just napping,” Rose said quickly. “She got upset this morning with all the commotion—Lily coming home and all. Wore herself out. She’ll be fine with a little sleep.”

Eli didn’t seem to hear her. “Never seen anything like it,” he said again.

Seth moved to stand between Eli and Antoinette. “You can get used to anything if you’re around it enough. Spend some time here and a seizure won’t seem like anything.”

Eli nodded and his face softened. He stepped around Seth and knelt down next to Antoinette. “She sure is a blessing. MaryBeth can’t stop talking about her since y’all stopped by last night. She’s having a real good spell right now.” He brushed a stray piece of hair from Antoinette’s face.

Lily noticed that Rose looked troubled as she clenched her jaw and twisted her fingers together while watching Eli.

“You have any trouble getting home?” he asked. “I haven’t seen it rain like that in ages.”

“We were fine,” Seth said as he put his hand on Eli’s back. “I’ll walk you out. I’m headed back to the market.”

Eli took one last look at Antoinette and stood. “You ought to get an alarm system,” he said. “Anyone could walk right in. With the way things are today . . .”

“We’re okay,” Rose said as she nodded toward the kitchen. Lily followed her gaze and saw a light above the door. “Antoinette wanders off sometimes. I usually keep it on. Today’s just been real busy. I didn’t reset it after Seth and Lily arrived.”

Lily didn’t let herself watch Seth leave. She looked out the window at the hoop houses behind the commercial fields. Six. When she had last been home, there were only two. Hoop houses functioned like a greenhouse, extending the growing season, but since a hoop house was only a white plastic tarp stretched over flexible piping, they were a lot less expensive.

“Seth missed you,” Rose said.

Each sister had always known what the other was thinking. Lily smiled at the realization that not everything had faded between them, but she shook her head. If Seth had missed her, he would have called. Besides, she was here to help Rose. Not to revive an old romance.

Upon hearing Rose’s voice, Antoinette stirred in her sleep. She opened her mouth and a soft “Mmmmaaa” fell out.

“What do you think she dreams about?” Lily asked.

“The same things we do,” Rose said. “Why would her dreams be different from anyone else’s?”