Be Sweet (20 page)

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Authors: Diann Hunt

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BOOK: Be Sweet
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“Char?”

The voice startles me and nearly takes my breath away. “Stephanie. What are you doing out here?” I ask, trying to hide my irritation. It took all the strength I could muster just to get up here, and I have no intention of coming down anytime soon.

She wrings her gloved hands together. “Um, they told me you were out here. I was trying to find you. Then I heard you cough.”

The bark is rough and cold beneath my hands. I should have brought my gloves. “Yeah, well, here I am.”

“Listen, I need to talk to you about something.” Her voice cracks as though she's on the verge of tears, though I can't imagine why.

“Now?”

“Well, remember, I wanted to tell you something in the barn?”

“Do I need to come down?” If I go down now, I'll never get back up here.

“Well, you can stay up there if you want. In fact, it might be easier on me if you do.”

I'm beginning to understand Janni's need for solitude. “Okay, I'm listening.”

She goes into a little more detail about her life back home, her father's death, her backpacking adventure, and her quest. The cold from the limb is starting to seep through my pants, and I'm wondering why she couldn't have told me all this back at the house. My mind wanders off while she's talking, until she starts crying.

“So when Daniel brought me here, it was too good to be true,” I hear her say. “Still, I don't know how I'm going to tell Janni.” She's definitely crying here, and I'm wondering what I've missed.

“Tell her what?”

“Were you listening to me? I said that Janni is my biological mother.”

“What?” Stephanie's words hit me like a hard rock against my back, causing me to fling forward. My flailing arms grope for the branch, and my right leg hangs on as though it's hooked and looped at the ends.

“Char? Char! Hang on! I'll help you!” Stephanie runs toward the tree.

“My grip is slipping. I'm not going to make it,” I cry out. If she were bigger than a minute, she might be able to catch me, but with her elfin body and my extra twenty pounds, I'd crush her to death.

The rough bark scrapes my palms as my hands peel loose. The wind rips past my ears, and my scream pierces the air, no doubt being heard three counties over. The ground rushes up to meet me, but I squeeze my eyes closed so I can't see. Next thing I know, my body slams into the earth with all the force of a rhino dropping from the sky.

Twigs and rocks embed themselves in my jeans as I attempt to push myself up. Pain sears through my ankle.
Perfect Janni? Not possible.
How?—When?—I would have known.

“Char, are you all right?” Stephanie kneels down beside me and puts her hand on my arm. Worry lines her face.

“I'm fine.” Damaged pride, but I'll survive. My fingers reach for my ankle. “I think I might have hurt my ankle, though.”
Janni wouldn't keep
something like this from me.

“I'll run to the house for help. Don't move—er, uh, I'll be right back.”

“Charlene Haverford, what were you doing sitting
up on a tree branch? What were you thinking?” Janni wants to know.

“I was bird-watching, Janni, what do you think?”

“Well, the good news is I don't think it's sprained, but you beat it up pretty good. We'll get you up to the house, wrap it in a bandage and tight tape, give you a couple of pain relievers, and you'll be good to go.”

“Found them,” Daniel says, lifting crutches in the air as he jogs down to join us.

“Do you guys run a medical clinic or what?”

“When you have two boys, you have your share of sprains and bro-ken bones,” Janni says. “Help me out here, Danny.”

“Luckily, we have these from when Blake was in junior high, and they're adjustable, so you won't have any problems using them.” Daniel gives the crutches to Stephanie, then he and Janni scoop me up beneath my arms and pull me to a standing position. They stuff the crutches underneath my arms and stand close beside me as I hobble back to the house over the rough terrain.

“I still can't believe you climbed that tree.” Janni shakes her head. “You might have broken the branch.”

“Your compassion is touching.”

Janni chuckles before sliding into her seat in the living room. “Okay, I'm teasing.” She takes a sip from her coffee mug.

They have me situated on the monster sofa, and I'm still worried about falling into the cushions, but since I'm lying down, I figure I won't go down without a fight. With a glance over at Wiggles, I see him studying me carefully. If I have to stay down here through the night, I'm afraid he'll call in his buddies, and they'll carry me off.

“It was a stupid thing to do. I admit it.”

“Oh well, it isn't the first time and won't be the last.”

“Thanks, Janni. So nice of you to point that out.” I'd like to point out to her that she would have fallen from the tree, too, if she had heard what I heard. There's no way it could be true. Not from Saint Janni. On the other hand, if it is true, and she didn't tell me, she'd better run.

Stephanie does resemble Janni—or am I letting my imagination run away with me? What am I thinking? She couldn't possibly be related to our family. She doesn't eat carbs. She is bossy, though, I'll give her that. Well, if somehow Mom and I are her blood relatives, she doesn't stand a chance. I need some time to think about how we're going to deal with this. It doesn't seem right to blurt out, “Oh, by the way, did you know that Stephanie thinks she is your daughter?” Instead I say, “Without me, will you have enough help with the syrup?” I just go from one panic to another.

“We'll get along just fine.”

“No, you won't. You need me.”

“Don't worry about it, Char. We'll make do. We have enough friends helping. Besides, by the look of that foot, you won't be down long. In the meantime, you can work on the party stuff.”

“Boy, what some people won't do to get out of work,” Daniel says, entering the room with a laugh.

“Danny, don't you start,” Janni warns. “She feels bad enough as it is.”

Hello? It's not like she's been all that easy on me.

“Aw, I'm just kiddin' ya.”

Somehow I manage a weak smile. I'm not about to mention the fact that not only is my ankle throbbing, but also my toothache is no longer on the fringes.

“Hey,” Janni's eyes sparkle, and her face lights up like Mrs. Claus at Christmas, “I know what will perk you up.”

Just hearing those words strikes fear in my heart. “What?”

“Sudoku!” Janni claps her hands together and heads for a stack of magazines.

“Puzzles? You think puzzles will perk me up? Hello? Anyone notice I'm a people person, not a puzzle person?”

“Good luck,” Daniel whispers on his way back out of the room.

“Coward,” I call after him, low enough so that Janni can't hear me.

“Oh come on, these are fun.” She throws a magazine to me, then walks over to put on the easy listening radio station.

We work feverishly on those puzzles. My brain is tired before I get started, but I don't want to be a party pooper, so I play along. Unfortunately, within the first five minutes, I slip into a coma and don't come out until my toothache screams for attention. The pulse in my ankle keeps pace with the soft beat of the music. My head has joined the kettle-drum section. I sink further into the sofa, praying all the while I will disappear, never to be found again.

“Are you doing all right, Char?” Stephanie walks toward me with a cup in her hand. “Macchiato, three shots,” she announces with a smile. She hands it to me.

“Thank you, Stephanie. That's so sweet.” It's a guilt offering, but still, it's nice. “Did you get some coffee for yourself?”

“Never touch the stuff,” she says.

There is positively no way this kid can be Janni's daughter.

“We need to talk,” Stephanie says.

Janni puts her magazine down and comes over to look at me. “Oh dear, Char, your color doesn't look so good. You ready for those pain-killers yet?”

Try as I might, I have an aversion to pills. Don't like them. Doesn't matter if they're vitamins or medicine, I hate to take them. They always make me choke. But with the way my head, tooth, and ankle are throb-bing, what does it matter? I nod.

“Uh-oh, I know she's hurting when she agrees to medicine. Be right back.” Janni heads to the bathroom.

“Listen, Char, I'm sorry to spring that on you the way I did, about Janni and me,” she whispers.

“Stephanie, would you grab Char a glass of water so she can take her pills?” Janni calls out from the bathroom.

“Sure.”

I hate to break it to her that she's mistaken, but she needs to know she has the wrong gal. “We'll talk later, Stephanie. Maybe when every-one goes to bed?”

She nods and heads for the kitchen.

Why didn't I stay in Maine where I belong?

By the time everyone goes to bed and the steps
creak beneath Stephanie's feet as she heads my way, my toothache has elevated my pain level to the point of snapping. The sheets are in a tangle from my thrashing about on the sofa.

“Char, is it your ankle? You look awful.” Stephanie tucks the sheet in around me and plumps the pillow, trying to make me more comfortable.

Left palm against my cheek, I say, “My tooth. I have to get help.” At this point, I'm sure it couldn't hurt any worse if I sawed off my jawbone.

“What's wrong?” Janni calls from the stairway. The pounding in my head must have drowned out her footsteps. “Char? Do we need to call the doctor for your ankle? Maybe you've broken something.”

She comes around the sofa, takes one look at me, and gasps. Okay, so I don't look wonderful without makeup, but I hardly feel it should provoke a gasp.

“She has a bad toothache,” Stephanie tells her.

“Toothache? I'm calling Russ.” Janni steps over and picks up her cordless.

“No!” I yell as best I can with my hand clamped against the left side of my jaw. “You can't call him. Anyone but him.”

“Char, it's the weekend and it's midnight. I don't know another dentist in town who would work on you at midnight, over the weekend, when you're not his patient—without charging an arm and a leg.”

“I'll throw in an arm and a leg, if that will help.” My jaw is tight, and I'm pretty sure my head has swollen to the size of a beach ball.

“No, you don't. Russ is our dentist, and he's our friend. Why, he'd be offended if we didn't call him.”

The intense pain shoots through my jaw once again. “Okay, fine. Call him,” I snarl.

Janni starts punching in the numbers, no doubt happy that she got her way. I just want to slap her.

“Hello, Russ? I'm sorry to bother you so late, but it's Char. She hurt her ankle falling from a tree—”

I roll my eyes. Did she have to tell him that?

“No, no, she's fine.” She looks at me and talks away from the mouth-piece. “Well, you did.”

I'm so gonna hurt her.

“And on top of that she has a horrible toothache.”
Can we say
whiner?
“I was wondering if we could get her in first thing in the morning, and thought you could tell us what we might do for her in the meantime?”

The pain is excruciating, making me want to bang my head against the wall. Yet I doubt even that would improve things.

“Okay, we'll be there.” Janni hangs up and turns to Stephanie. “Help me get her dressed. She's going into his office now.”

“Now?” I cry.
It's the cookies. I know it's the cookies. If only I had stayed
away from them.

“Now.” Janni's snap-to-it movements take over, and if I didn't know Mom was sleeping peacefully upstairs, I would swear that she had morphed into Janni's body. At this moment, there is no way I can imagine the world with two of my mother. That would pretty much send me over the edge.

seventeen

Let me just say, the trip to Russ' s office was
humiliating beyond measure. I had to wear a bib and keep my drool to a minimum while he prodded around in my mouth as though excavating for diamonds. The good news is my toothache is gone—or at least I think it is. One side of my head is numb, so it's hard to tell. The other good thing is, instead of paying for the filling, I get a free meal out of the deal, as in a dinner date with Russ to Sok's Restaurant.

Once I return to bed in the wee hours of the morning, my dreams take me to a quiet café located on a brick-lined street bustling with quaint shops and happy tourists. Caramel-colored walls, white trim, and white café round tables and chairs adorn the inside. The espresso machine whirs in the background, and the sweet smell of sticky buns and bagels perfumes the air. Russ sits across from me dressed in a crisp navy oxford, open at the collar, muscles bulging against the sleeves. Nice jeans and sneakers give him a casual appearance, but he's still classy all the way in my book.

A dozen yellow roses—my favorite—burst from a crystal vase in the middle of the table, compliments of Russ. He's holding my hand, gaz-ing deep into my eyes. Without a word, he leans toward me, closer, closer, and just as our lips are about to meet, Mom's voice comes crashing through.

“Land sakes, Charlene Marybelle, what are you doing sleeping on that couch? It's time for church.” My mother's sharp voice still causes prickles on the back of my neck, and I break out in a cold sweat. Considering my aversion to heat lately, that should say something. To point out that this is a rude awakening is an understatement. But nothing compares to having Russ's face within reach, then blinking my eyes open and seeing my mother's skinny jowls hanging inches from my face. Took five years off my life, I'm sure of it.

“Hi, Mom.” I rub my eyes, and she straightens.

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