Home with My Sisters (33 page)

“I'd like the name of his doctor,” Hope said. “We need more information.”

“I'll make sure you get all the information. As long as you promise to do whatever is best for him, not whatever is best for you.”

“He's our dad. How can it hurt to acknowledge that?” Faith argued.

“I told you. He knows enough to know he isn't the man he once was. That he couldn't be a father, or a husband. He knows what he's missed out on. He chose not to reach out to you girls or your mother after the accident. He wanted you to remember him the way he was.”

“Or maybe Roger didn't think about us at all,” Faith said. She headed for the barn door. Yvette and Hope followed.

Yvette took ahold of Faith's arm and spun her around. She pointed at the grounds. Twinkling lights hanging from trees, mechanical reindeer and Santa, and other characters, red bows, and wreaths, and glass balls dangling from tree branches. Skates all organized, and the sound system ready to play. Firewood piled up by the fire pit. “I dare you to look at all he's done since you've arrived, for you girls and you girls alone, and say that again.”

Tears came to Faith's eyes. “I'm just so overwhelmed,” she said. “I just want to tell him we know. I just want to tell him how much we love him. How much we've always loved him.” Hope wrapped her arms around her sister.

“It's going to be okay,” Hope said. “It's all going to be okay.”

“Is it?” Faith said. “Is it really?”

“He's here and he loves us,” Hope said. “And we're here, and we love him.” The sound of sobbing filled the air. It startled Hope, for she hadn't realized Faith was crying that hard. And then Faith pulled back and Hope could see it wasn't her. They turned to find Yvette, bent over, shaking from her tears. Hope's heart broke open. In unison they reached for her, wrapped their arms around their grandmother, held her up, and together they cried. They cried for the barren years they'd wasted. They cried for the father they'd lost in the accident. They cried for the wife whose husband never came back. They cried for the grandmother they never knew. And they cried for the man who, no matter how changed, was showing them with every fiber of his being that they still mattered. That he was still their dad, and they were still his girls.

CHAPTER 35

It wasn't until the next day that Hope and Faith were able to kidnap Joy. A Christmas hike through the mountains did not thrill Joy, which was why Faith and Hope kept it a secret until they had already pulled into the parking lot where the trail began. Mr. Jingles was the first to dash out of the car, and since there weren't any other cars parked in the lot, Hope simply kept his leash tucked in his bag and allowed him a bit of freedom. The snow on the ground was several feet deep, but the skies were blue and clear.

“Why are we doing this?” Joy said. “We could eat, shop, or drink instead.”

“Exercise and fresh air does wonders for the soul,” Faith said. She failed to mention that they wanted to isolate Joy in a remote mountain location before telling her that Roger was their father.

For the moment Hope was enjoying what was in front of her. She loved the smell in the air, crisp and earthy. She was looking forward to the hike—not to breaking the news to Joy—but to exerting her muscles and taking deep breaths, and communing with nature. She suddenly felt filled with the Christmas spirit, and was even thinking fondly of Yvette and looking forward to an evening Scrabble game in front of the fire. Her number-one goal was still to get their father to come inside the house. She couldn't imagine future gatherings—holding her child up by the window so he could “meet” the new baby.

But it was more proof that they didn't know what they were dealing with when it came to his cognitive issues. Yvette was right. They shouldn't make any major moves until they'd spoken with his doctor. But there was still a strong connection between them, and that was something, and for now that would have to be enough. She just prayed that Joy would see it the same way.

Mr. Jingles took off ahead of them, leading the pack. They had only just started on the path, Faith surging ahead, Hope in the middle (always!), and Joy was bringing up the rear, when she made the announcement. “I think we should see a lawyer.”

Faith stopped abruptly and Hope plowed into her. The padding from their winter coats helped soften the blow.

“What for?” Hope asked.

“Roger,” Joy said. “I think we need to find him a new home as soon as Yvette departs.”

“I thought we agreed not to discuss any of this until after the holidays,” Hope said. “And for all we know, Yvette might live for years.”

“I hope she does,” Joy said. “I like her. But I can see her getting weaker every day.”

“Me too,” Faith said softly. “She's growing on me too.”

“So do you agree? We need to seek out a lawyer?”

“Let's get to the top of this trail,” Faith said. “It's healthy to be silent.”

“Is that a fancy way of telling me to shut up?” Joy said.

“Yes,” Hope said. Joy shook her head, but the pair resumed their climb without the chatter. A hawk was perched on a tree just ahead of them and the three stopped to admire it.

Mr. Jingles's excitement grew the higher they climbed. He would run ahead and then race back as if to check on them. The snow wasn't as deep the farther in they went, probably due to the cover of the dense tree branches above them. Patches were a bit icy, which was why they had on their best snow boots and Faith was even carrying a walking stick despite the fact that she was probably in the best shape to handle a slip. At one point Hope slipped and her body slid down a few feet. Joy grasped on to her before she could be slammed to the ground and the two slipped together, furiously trying to get traction while Mr. Jingles ran in circles around them. Finally, they reached the top. From here there was a bit of a clearing to the left and they had a bird's-eye view to the mountains and downtown. Far below, one of the horse and carriages could be seen making its way through the center of town, and shoppers appeared in miniature, carrying their tiny, colorful bags. The three stood in silence, enjoying the scenery, the moment, the peace.

“Harrison and I have decided to take your advice, Hope,” Joy said. Hope rifled through every bit of advice she'd doled out to Joy lately and came up blank. “We're going to save up for a coffee truck.”

“Seriously?” Hope said. She wasn't sure whether or not to congratulate her. If she accepted the credit, then she would also have to accept the blame if things went south.

“You're moving here?” Faith said.

“Well, it will be a truck, so really we can drive it wherever we want, but yes. We're moving here. We'll stay with Granny while she's still with us.”

“You can't do that,” Faith said.

“It's already done,” Joy said.

“Haven't you already put down money on a place in Seattle?” Hope asked. Not only did she not want to be blamed if the coffee truck failed, she also couldn't push away the thought that Joy was just conniving to get what she wanted, and using Yvette in the process. She was already one meeting with a lawyer away from kicking their father off the property, and even if they only thought of him as Roger, the man had been living there for the past twenty years.

“We've already lost that deposit,” Joy said. “We weren't able to pay the next installment.”

“We have bigger things to discuss,” Faith said.

“Such as?”

“Mom is missing for one.”

“I told you she went to Cuba after all,” Joy said.

“No,” Faith said. “She was coming here.”

“Do you hear yourself? Why on earth would she come here?”

Faith looked at Hope. She was handing over the Olympic Torch. Hope faced Joy. “First of all, we tried telling you earlier, but you were always busy.”

“Telling me what?” Anger was on the surface, but Hope could also hear the fear in Joy's voice.

“Roger is our father.”

Joy broke out in a fake smile, as if to say, ha-ha; then it slowly faded as her eyes bounced between Hope and Faith. “Excuse me?”

Faith took the reins. “Roger is Thomas Garland. He's our father. He's your father.”

“Get out,” Joy said. She kicked snow with her boot, trying to aim it at Hope, then kicked a pile toward Faith. Joy shook her head, smiling, eyes ping-ponging once again from Faith to Hope, waiting for one of them to admit it was a joke. Once again Hope and Faith remained serious. Joy flapped her arms. “What are you talking about?”

“There was a moment when he looked at me and I just knew,” Hope said.

“I didn't know,” Faith interjected. “Until I knew. And now every time I look at him I wonder why I couldn't see it.”

Joy shook her head. “He died in a car accident. Granny said so. We saw his grave.”

“We saw a cross in the dirt that Roger—I mean, our father—stuck there,” Hope said.

“I'm sick of this. You two aren't making any sense.”

“He was in a coma after the car accident,” Faith explained. “He was never the same again. Yvette isn't even sure if he's fully aware of who he is.”

“Oh my God,” Joy said. “Oh my God.” She stumbled forward. Hope caught one arm and Faith the other, as the most unexpected thing happened. Joy began to sob. Faith and Hope held her close. “It's not fair,” she said. “It's not fair.”

Faith gently pushed Joy back so she could look her in the eyes. “It's a miracle,” she said. “It's more than fair. We're getting him back.”

“But he's brain-damaged!”

“Yes,” Hope said. “And that's the reason he never wanted us to know he was still alive.”

“I thought he was a con artist. Are you sure he's not a con artist?”

“We're sure,” Faith said.

“This is crazy. How can that man be our father? He's nothing like you said he was.”

“He was in a serious accident,” Hope said. “But he's still our dad.”

“He's not my dad,” Joy said. “He never will be.”

“Don't say that,” Faith said.

“He's a total stranger,” Joy said. “I don't feel anything.”

“He still loves us,” Hope said. “He loves you.”

“How can you say that?”

“He's decorating the entire grounds for Christmas. For us. Don't you see?” Hope pleaded.

“I don't see,” Joy said. “You two are nuts.”

Faith stepped up. “It's not about us. It's about him. We're all going to mourn the father we lost. This doesn't change that. But he's still here. And he's ours. He's yours.”

Joy started sobbing again. “I was going to try to have him institutionalized.”

“Not the best Christmas present,” Faith said. Joy swiped at her.

“Wait,” Joy said. “That's why Mom is coming?”

“Yes,” Faith said. “But she doesn't know that he's not exactly himself—well—I don't know what she knows because she's missing.”

“Does Roger—Dad—know that you guys know?”

“No,” Hope said. “We can't tell him yet. We have to talk to his doctors, make sure we're not going to set him back in any way by confronting him with it.”

“My God,” Joy said. “How long have you two been leaving me in the dark, like a chump?”

“I told you, we've been trying to tell you. It's only been a few days.”

“A few days!”

“Please,” Faith said. “We love you, Joy. We're not trying to leave you out. Can we please not pile onto the stress here? I think a dying grandmother, an injured daughter, a suicidal teenager, a disgruntled soon to be ex-husband, a secret lesbian lover, a disabled lost father, and a missing mother is quite enough to deal with for one holiday season. I don't even know if I can fit all of that into our annual Christmas letter. So can I please, please just have my relationship with my sisters intact?” Hope and Joy stared openmouthed at Faith.

Joy started to laugh first. Then she began to softly pummel Faith with mittened fists. “I hate your annual Christmas letter.”

“Stop it,” Faith said, but her laughter betrayed she was enjoying it. Hope grabbed her around the neck and messed up her beautiful hair. “Stop.”

“You didn't mention Mr. Jingles,” Hope said. “You like him.”

“I do not!” Mr. Jingles jumped on Faith and licked her lips. “Gross!” Faith shouted.

“You have the worst life!” Joy said, breaking into laughter again.

“I have the worst sisters,” Faith said. Mr. Jingles barked and circled them, then once again jumped up and licked Faith's face with his giant tongue from chin to forehead.

* * *

They stopped in town. Joy wanted to buy Roger a present. She'd agreed not to say a word to him about who they were, but insisted on the gift. For someone who said she wanted nothing to do with the man, she was coming around awfully quick. Hope was so grateful. It just so happened that Joy found her gift in the same store where Hope had her eye on that sweater for Austin. So while Joy was buying their father a scarf, she bought Austin a sweater.

“Who's that for?” Faith asked with a smile, nudging Joy.

“None of your beeswax,” Hope said.

“Would Dad like a sweater?” Joy asked.

“Let's get him one that's big and soft,” Faith said. The three of them picked out a sweater that matched the scarf, and finally a new cap. They would have bought the entire store for him if they could have.

“Do we have to wait for Christmas to give these to him?”

“That's usually how it goes,” Faith said.

“I want to give it to him as soon as we get back,” Joy said. “That's how it goes with me.”

Hope laughed. “You always had all your gifts opened before Christmas. Except when Mom started locking them in the cedar chest.”

“Oh no. I figured that lock out in no time.” Joy smiled.

“You did not.”

“I did too. I'd open it, unwrap them, then wrap them back up.”

“Unwrap them?” Faith said. “You opened ours too?”

“Of course,” Joy said. “I switched them sometimes too.”

“Oh my God,” Hope said. “I knew that purple radio was supposed to be mine. I asked for it.” Joy shrugged. “I've been mad at Mom for years over that.”

“It's not my fault,” Joy said. “I always expected her to confront me, but she never did.”

“She hated Christmas so much she couldn't even remember what she bought us,” Faith said.

“Or she had somebody else buy them,” Hope said. “Speaking of which—shouldn't we check with a few of the hotels in town to see if she's here?”

“I have to check my phone and see if her boyfriend answered my message,” Faith said. “But I agree, let's check the inns in town.”

“What do we do if there's no room at the inn?” Joy deadpanned. Hope and Faith raced to see which one would be the first to smack her.