Be Sweet (29 page)

“If you move any closer, people will talk.”

“Daniel will come,” she says, ignoring my comment.

“He's so busy with the syrup. He's not going to be happy about this.”

“That's not what's bothering me.”

“What is?”

“How I let you talk me into getting sucked into another of your harebrained ideas. When are you going to start acting your age?”

“What? You've got your nerve, Motorcycle Mama. You've got issues of your own to sort out without getting into mine.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” Nose hiked, Janni inches away from me, looks around, then inches back.

She's miffed, but I don't have time to worry about it. Once we get out of here, I need to call the Scottenses. I have a promotion hinging on it.

The Tuckers come down to the jail and vouch for
us. It is so good to see them, and I hope to spend more time with them before I head back to Maine. When we're freed from lockup, we run some errands, mostly in an effort to avoid Mom. When we get back, everyone has gone to their rooms for the evening. Janni is carrying scrapbook stuff into the kitchen and dumping it on the table. I offer to help her. I figure it's the least I can do since I landed her in jail and all.

“I'm so glad we've brought this stuff inside. I'm sure you're still thawing out from working in the barn.” I help Janni carry two boxes of pictures from her bedroom into the kitchen.

“Yeah, this is better, as long as we can keep Mom and Dad away. You'll have to help me keep watch for them so they don't spoil the sur-prise.” Janni drops her box on the table with a grunt, then settles into a chair. “I still can't believe we were in jail today.”

“At least we didn't have to wear the orange suits. It's totally out of my color scheme. Washes me out something fierce.”

Janni stares at me like she wants to hurt me.

“I'm kidding.” Why is it I always say the wrong things?

Together we dump a batch of pictures on the table, then place our boxes on the floor.

“How we've managed to steer clear of Mom is beyond me,” she says.

My fingers rummage through the pictures. “Well, we'd better get our stories together because we'll most definitely be dealing with her tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Janni picks up a picture of the two of us. “Remember this one? We were baking pumpkin cookies. I think you were around nine or ten here, and I was probably five or six.”

Leaning over, I look at the picture and laugh. “That's the day Mom got us our first aprons.”

Janni's eyes light up. Over aprons. She snaps her fingers. “That's right.” She gets up, goes over to a cabinet drawer, and opens it. “I still have mine,” she says, whipping out a tattered and spotted pink apron the size of a potholder.

My jaw drops. I'm not about to point out that it would barely fit around her neck, let alone her midsection. “You kept the apron all these years, why?”

“Because it was my first one. You didn't keep yours?”

“It wasn't fashionable until Martha Stewart came along. Why would I?”

Janni shakes her head and stuffs the apron back into the drawer.

“You know, the good thing about that jail deal is it will keep Mom's thoughts off of her paranoia about Dad.”

“Yeah, maybe. At least those two are civil to one another now. It's a start.”

“By the way, did you talk to Dad about the motorcycle yet?” My fingers continue to sort through the pictures.

“Yeah. Guess he wanted to surprise Mom with a motorcycle ride on their anniversary, as we suspected.”

“Did you tell him she wants no part of it?”

“Yeah. He said it belongs to Gertie's son, and he's out of the country, so he asked if we could keep it here until they return. Gertie doesn't have room for it.”

“Oh, that's probably why they met at the bakery, and why she was calling him. Well, if you're going to ride that Harley again, you'd better get a license. All we need is for Toby to pull you over.”

“You're such a worrywart.”

“Did I tell you that I found another of Mom's books in the laundry basket?”

Janni shakes her head. “Suspense author again?”

“One and the same.”

“She's hiding them because she's afraid we'll take them away from her.” Janni laughs.

“She's right.” Picking up a couple of pictures of Mom and Dad with their siblings, I glance up. “We're forkin' out too much money for her to be so suspicious.”

Janni agrees, then yawns. A look of complacency has settled over her. She thumbs through the pictures with all the excitement of a slug. She catches me watching her. “What?”

“I really think you need to see someone about your energy level. Like I said, you could have some thyroid issues.”

“You're kidding, right? You had me breaking and entering somebody else's house. We were hauled off to jail. From there we went on errands, which included grocery shopping for the week, we're now working on the scrapbook, and you say I have energy issues? Maybe the better question is, are you snacking on coffee beans?”

I chuckle. “No. Though it's not a bad idea for either one of us.”

Just then Stephanie bursts through the front door and hangs up her coat. “Hey, whatcha doing?” Her smile brightens the room when she enters the kitchen where we have pictures sprawled across the table.

We explain the events of our day to her and have a good laugh.

“Mom and Dad are in bed, so we thought we would work on the scrapbook. Would you like a turkey sandwich? I can make you one.” Janni starts to get up.

Stephanie motions for her to stay put. “I'm a big girl. I can get it myself.”

“There's pumpkin pie in the fridge, too, if you decide to indulge,” I say.

Stephanie stares at me.

“Alfalfa sprouts?”

She laughs. “Okay if I join you two?”

“That would be great,” Janni says, her face brightening.

Stephanie walks over to the fridge while we continue to sort through the pictures. I'm wondering if I shouldn't have discouraged Stephanie from talking to Janni about this whole matter. It's better than allowing her hopes to get too high. When Stephanie realizes she's mistaken, it will likely devastate her.

“Oh my goodness, is that you?” Stephanie asks, pulling a picture of Janni from the pile. Sandwich in hand, she settles into her seat.

My sister laughs. “Guilty as charged.” Leaning over, I see the picture in question and suddenly realize how much Janni and Stephanie resemble one another.

“Hey, we sort of look like each other here,” Janni says off the cuff.

“Yeah, funny, isn't it?” Stephanie's eyes meet Janni's.

In that instant, it seems as though the dust in the room stops circu-lating. No one moves. Janni swallows, then looks from Stephanie to me, then back to Steph.

“Am I missing a joke or something?”

“No joke.” Stephanie's eyes are still pinned on Janni.

Janni appears confused. “It seems I've missed something, but okay,” she says, brushing the air with her hand.

“No, wait.” Stephanie grabs Janni's hand. “There is something.”

Stephanie looks over to me for support, and I give a short nod. I pray Janni is up for this, what with the jail thing and all. And that Stephanie can handle the truth.

“There is a reason we resemble one another.”

Uh-oh, here it comes.
Somebody
is going to be disappointed.

Janni gives a tiny gasp. “What are you saying?”

Stephanie cups Janni's hand between both of hers. “I'm not here to stir up trouble, Janni. I just wanted to get to know you.”

Janni's eyes grow wide. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

Stephanie swallows hard, then looks at her. “I believe I'm your daughter.”

All color drains from Janni's face, and for a minute I ponder where it has gone.

Silence engulfs the room. Janni must be trying to come up with a way to tell this poor girl she's mistaken.

“I know this has to be hard for you,” Stephanie says.

Just as I'm about to jump in and help Janni out, she speaks. “You're my dau—daughter?”

Stephanie manages a hesitant nod. Why isn't Janni telling her it can't be? I'm confused.

Janni bursts into tears, and when she regains her composure, looks at us both. “Looks as though I have some explaining to do.” I'm shocked to the core. Her lips start moving and I hear the words, but it takes a moment for them to sink in. A college love, bad choices, pregnancy, adoption.

To say she burst my bubble and has now been stripped of her saint-hood is an understatement. I visually see myself ripping the saintly crown off her head.

“Char, say something.”

“All these years, you let me think you were Miss Perfect?”

“No one is perfect, Char. Least of all me. I told you that over and over. You thought up that perfect business all by yourself.”

I feel betrayed somehow. I resented her for being perfect, and now I resent her for not being perfect. “Am I the last one to know?”

Janni looks down at her fingers. “No,” she whispers. “No one knows.” She turns to Stephanie. “Will you please keep this to yourself for a few more days while I sort through all this, Stephanie? I'll have to ease the news on the rest of the family. It obviously won't be easy, but—I'm so glad you're here.”

They both embrace for the longest time, crying together. They're having a memorable moment, and I realize that I'm just mad. How could Janni keep this from us? I'm her sister. All this time she let me think . . .

“What happened to my dad?” Stephanie asks.

Janni bites her lip. “Alex Winters. We were not together after I found out I was pregnant, and then he died in a car accident three weeks before you were born. I'm sorry, honey.”

Janni. The perfect one—who lived a double life.

Seeing Janni's reunion with her daughter—a
daughter no one knew anything about—and wondering how this news will affect the family, has robbed me of sleep tonight. I think I've worked through most of my anger and decided Janni's going to need me to get through this. She was there for me during my divorce; it's the least I can do for her. Even though she never told me, her own sister, about Stephanie. Like I said, I've worked through
most
of my anger.

My covers feel hot, and I whip them off, leaving only the sheet over me. The small fan that's on the stand next to my bed keeps my face cool but doesn't always help the rest of me. If Daniel keeps the house so cold, why am I hot? The thought that it might be hot flashes hits me, but I'm not buying it. I'm just not the hot flash type. I need only to get back to my own house. It agrees with me.

After wrestling with the covers and heat for a while, I finally give up. Putting on my light robe and socks, I slip down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone.

The boards creak beneath my feet more than usual—or maybe it just seems that way because of all the pie I've been eating. My foot eases off the offending board. They really need to get some things fixed around here.

The sweet scent of blueberries fills the air and something tells me someone has already beat me to the kitchen. When I walk into the room, Janni is bent over the stove, checking on a tin of muffins.

“Have I ever told you about the blueberry muffins I get at the Bagel Station back in Seafoam?” I reluctantly grab the coffeepot and help myself to a cup. “They totally melt in your mouth.” Reaching into the cupboard, I retrieve a saucer which my cup settles onto with a slight tinkle.

“Well, my muffins aren't from the Bagel Station, but they're Daniel's favorite. I haven't made them in a while.” Janni walks over to me. “Listen, Char, I'm sorry about everything.”

“Forget it. I'm the least of your problems.” The shadows beneath her eyes tell me she feels the same way. I touch her arm. “It will be all right, Janni. You'll see.” Walking over to the table, I settle into a chair. “So, are you making these for Daniel to soften the blow?” I take a sip from my mug. The scary thing is, Janni's coffee is starting to grow on me.

“Something like that,” she says, pulling off her oven mitts and joining me at the table. “Like it?” Janni's eyes are twinkling as she watches me. “I bought a new brand—from the coffee shop.”

“You bought ground coffee from the coffee shop?”

She nods.

My heart warms that she went to the trouble for me. “It's good, Janni. Really.”

“I'm glad.” After a long sigh, she says, “You know, you've been asking me if I'm depressed, and I can tell you now that though I believe much of it is hormonal, since the boys have left home, I've had more time to think about the daughter I never knew. I tried to bury my past, and it worked for a while, but having so much time these days to spend alone with my thoughts has brought the guilt back in full force.”

I don't know what to say.

“What am I gonna do, Char?”

“It will work out. Things always do.”

Janni shakes her head. “I'm not so sure. Daniel is big on honesty, and while I wasn't trying to be dishonest, I just wanted to put the past behind me and not talk about it with anyone, ever.” She looks up at me. “As though it never happened, I guess. I should have known it would catch up with me.” With her fingers, she twirls a strand of hair.

“Daniel loves you. He'll get over it.”

“Mom and Dad don't know. My kids—Blake! He's been flirting with her—” Her hand covers her mouth.

“Nothing happened. Stephanie made sure of it.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me that night she told me about you being her mother, and I fell out of the tree.”

Janni's eyes widen to the size of muffins. “That's what made you fall out of the tree?”