Impossible (18 page)

CHAPTER 42

You understand, right?
Lucy had once joked with Sarah about how effective that was, strategically. Nobody wanted to say:
No, I don't.
This meant that you'd be off doing whatever it was you wanted to do before the other person had a chance to regroup.

The sentence had stopped her parents and Zach long enough for Lucy to leave the room with the woman in beige. "We have a five-minute walk across the grounds," said the woman kindly.

"Okay." Lucy looked around as they walked. She'd noticed when they'd driven up that the psychiatric hospital wasn't what she had expected. It looked almost like a college campus, with lawns that would be green and lush in summer, and that now, with the trees ablaze in fall colors, was even more spectacular. Scattered around were both small and medium-sized buildings, some of them stately brick-and-ivy edifices, others seeming almost like regular houses. Paths crisscrossed the grass.

They approached a solid-looking brick building with a white portico. The woman in beige was talking about how the rooms here were private, each with its own bath, and that the patients staying here all had "behavioral health issues." Now, that was a phrase. It revealed nothing. Lucy supposed that was the point.

She wondered what the woman in beige would think if she said, "My mother's issue is that our family line was cursed by a demonic elf."

How long would it be before she did say things like that in front of people? It could happen anytime, Lucy thought. Oh, not to a stranger like this. Not until she really had lost it anyway. But to Sarah, maybe. Sarah, who thought she knew everything that Lucy was going through, who was doing everything a good friend could possibly do, and all in total ignorance. It hurt. It hurt not to be able to trust Sarah completely.

But she couldn't. Lucy had to guard her reputation—her reputation for sanity—the way that a woman a hundred years before would have had to guard her reputation for virtue. She was hyperconscious of it in everything she said and did. What would later cause people to say, "You know, I didn't think anything of it at the time, but now I remember that Lucy did X or Y, and isn't that strange?" It was enough to drive you crazy even if you
weren't
cursed by a demonic elf.

But at least there was her family to talk to. That would save her sanity, if anything could.

And, of course, there was Zach.

The little warming glow of joy as she thought of him took her by surprise. She let herself feel it. She let it spread through her. Zach knew everything and he loved her. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to help and he wasn't just saying that. He was acting on it.

She followed the woman into the building and up a flight of stairs. She was introduced to another woman, who wore the name tag "Janis" and was dressed in jeans. Then, as she turned to leave, the woman in beige smiled at Lucy, dropped her voice, and said, "Is half an hour enough?"

"What?"

The woman's eyes were compassionate. "Is half an hour alone with your mother enough time? I can stall your foster parents for as long as an hour if you just say the word."

Lucy flushed. "Half an hour is fine. You're so kind. Thank you."

"No worries. Dr. Sabada will be around at some point soon too. Just so you know to expect him."

"This way," said Janis.

Lucy followed Janis down another hallway to a room that was labeled 211. Just below the number was a placard that said MIRANDA SCARBOROUGH. The door was open.

"Your mom has been very calm," Janis said. "Which isn't surprising; she's had a mild sedative. I'll leave you alone with her. You can call if you need someone; there's a buzzer in the room by the bed. Leave the door open, okay?"

"Okay," said Lucy. Then Janis was gone. Lucy bit her lip, rapped lightly at the open door, and stepped inside.

Miranda was curled on her side on the twin-sized bed, her back toward the door, a light blanket covering her from the shoulders down. Her dark hair tumbled behind her over her pillow. It was longer than Lucy remembered it being, and somebody had brushed it so that it was smooth and silky. However, there were many more gray threads in it than Lucy had noticed before.

"Miranda?" she said tentatively. "Uh, Mother? It's Lucy."

Miranda did not move. Lucy walked farther into the room. It wasn't at all what Lucy had imagined when Soledad said that this hospital was nice. The room was spotless, but its furniture was institutional and sparse, and there was nothing on the walls. Lucy remembered Miranda using the contents of her shopping cart as projectiles last May, and supposed there couldn't be anything in a.place like this that might double as a weapon.

She couldn't help comparing it to her own room at home, the room that had once been Miranda's too. Her closet and bureau full of clothes and shoes; her old stuffed teddy bear; her posters and photographs; her computer and music and books and jewelry. And sure, things were only things; they couldn't make you safe. But having things of your own around you, well, that wasn't unimportant either.

Miranda had nothing of her own.

Except me
, thought Lucy.

This thought helped her be less scared. It helped her know that she was doing the right thing, being here alone, if only for a few minutes.

She came around the foot of the bed and walked up next to where Miranda was lying. She squatted down so that her face was level with Miranda's. She watched the blanket moving gently with Miranda's breathing.

Miranda's eyes were closed. Her face was browned and reddened from having been exposed in all weathers to the sun and the wind. Fine lines starred out from the corners of her eyes and mouth. Up so close, though, Lucy could see that the shape of Miranda's nose and mouth were very like what she saw in the mirror every day. And she could so easily—too easily—imagine that one day, she might be the one heavily medicated and confined to an impersonal room.

I'm in week twenty, Lucy thought. Out of forty. She put a hand on her stomach. Inside, the baby fluttered.

"Miranda?" Lucy said again.

Miranda's eyes opened. Unclouded by sleep or surprise, they looked directly into Lucy's. And if there was nothing resembling recognition in them, there was also no hostility. Lucy felt herself relax a little.

"Hello there," Miranda whispered dreamily.

"Hello." Lucy tried to smile. Was Miranda smiling back? No. Miranda had closed her eyes again.

"Miranda!" Lucy said. And then: "Mom!"

Miranda opened her eyes once more. "I'm tired," she said simply.

"Me too," said Lucy. "I'm not sleeping well these days."

Miranda blinked at her. Her eyes seemed to focus somewhat. Then she shifted back on the bed and moved her hand gently over the emptied space in what might have been an invitation. There was just enough space on the narrow bed for Lucy to fit there too.

Lucy hesitated. Then she stretched out, facing Miranda. There were inches still between their bodies, but their noses were nearly touching. Lucy became aware of her heartbeat. It was suddenly pounding.

And the baby was awake. Moving. Kicking.

Lucy reached impulsively to take Miranda's hand. It seemed an entirely natural and right thing to do. Miranda resisted her for a second, but then calmed, and Lucy moved her mother's hand to her stomach.

"Can you feel the baby?" Lucy whispered. "She's trying to turn over. She's getting good at it. I guess she's about three pounds now. And she's more than twelve inches long. And she has lungs."

She watched Miranda's eyes close again, as if, although not able to get away physically, she was trying to retreat emotionally. But then Miranda's hand on her stomach moved. At first, the hand only moved a little bit. Then it was stroking Lucy's stomach, gently. Pausing. Moving. Feeling the baby.

Lucy whispered, "I know what you did for me, Mom. I understand now. You carried me like I'm carrying her. You were afraid, like I am, but you did everything you could for me anyway. You even found me parents to take care of me when you couldn't. You were a good mother. I can only hope I'll make as good decisions for my baby as you did for me. I'm trying, though. I'm doing everything I can. And even if I can't—even if, you know, even if there really is this curse and there's no way out for me—well, we can hope about her, can't we? We can hope for her like you hoped for me.

"And I realized something else, Mom. I love you. Now that I understand what happened to you, and what you did for me anyway, I love you. I always will."

She watched her mother's face, hoping for some kind of acknowledgment. But Miranda kept her eyes shut. But then, after a minute, she took her hand from Lucy's stomach and put it instead around Lucy's hand, and tightened, so that her fingers formed Lucy's into a fist.

CHAPTER 43

Ten days later, on the night before her wedding, Lucy eased herself into the small passenger seat of Sarah's mother's little car and pulled on the seat belt until she got it lengthened and fastened. "Okay," she said to Sarah. "I'm in. Now we can go wherever it is we're going. You and your secrets."

Sarah snickered. "Right. Like you haven't micromanaged the whole evening, except for letting me pick where." She started the car and navigated out onto the road, steering competently.

Lucy gave Sarah an anxious look, which went unseen in the dark. "You didn't really mind changing the plans, did you? I appreciate the thought. But I just couldn't have a bridal shower. It's too, too—" Lucy waved a hand aimlessly. "Then I realized that what I wanted most of all tonight was to have some time alone with you. We haven't really talked about what's going on. You haven't pushed me; you've been so great, Sarah. But I know you must have been hurt when I, well, when I got all silent on you. And then, I know you were so surprised when I told you about me and Zach getting married. And, I—well. I'm sorry."

Sarah turned the car left onto Main Street. In the brighter lights of the streetlamps, Lucy could see her profile. She gave Lucy a quick glance, and Lucy saw with relief that she was smiling.

"There's nothing to apologize for," said Sarah. "I knew you were going through a lot, and that you would talk to me when you were ready." After a few seconds, she added, "And Lucy? It is absolutely okay with me if you need to keep some secrets. I've been thinking about this and I decided that a best friend is someone who, when they don't understand, they still understand."

Some of the tension Lucy had been holding in her shoulders relaxed. "I'm lucky to be your friend."

"Me too, being yours," said Sarah. "And you know what? I'm really, really, well—
honored
to be your maid of honor tomorrow."

"I wanted you," said Lucy. "Nobody else would do."

They were silent. It was a silence full of meaning, but somehow, still easy. And then they drew up in front of Sarah's house, and Sarah parked. "Surprise," she said. "We're staying home. I'm making pasta, and I got us green ice cream. Pistachio and mint chocolate chip, both. My parents went out; dinner and a movie with friends. So we have the whole house to ourselves for a few hours."

"Perfect," said Lucy.

"I thought so too."

After dinner, the girls sat on opposite ends of the living room sofa, facing each other. They had just finished eating their ice cream, and were sharing an enormous afghan in sunset colors that Lucy recognized as one that Soledad had crocheted, once upon a time. Sarah had also put on the gas fire, so it was gorgeously warm.

"So." Sarah reached out under the afghan with one stocking-covered foot and nudged Lucy's calf gently. "Do you want to talk for real? We don't have to. But it seemed to me that there was maybe something in particular you wanted to say."

Lucy patted Sarah's calf back with her own foot. "Yes. There was. Is." She felt sleepy and peaceful. Being at Sarah's home with Sarah felt like such an oasis. Part of her wanted to hang out and talk with Sarah of nothing.

But instead she sat up. "Okay, here's the thing. I don't want advice. I'm going to do what I've decided to do. But I want your opinion on it anyway, even though, I'm telling you right now"—she heard her voice get defensive—"I bet I won't take it."

Sarah kicked Lucy, but gently. "But you don't even know what I'm going to say."

"Right, but—"

"Never mind. I'll do my best to tell you what I truly think. Once I know what it is you're asking about." Sarah's eyes were clear and curious.

Lucy did think she knew what Sarah would say. But it would be okay anyway.

She couldn't tell Sarah everything. Lucy had accepted that. She couldn't tell her about the curse and about Miranda. But she could talk to her girlfriend about Zach, to some extent. And she wanted to.

She began slowly, choosing her words with care.

"Zach loves me. He's totally in love with me. And I'm going to marry him. It's the right thing for me, and it's the right thing for my baby." Without even realizing she was doing so, Lucy put her hand on the stomach lump that was her daughter. "I believe this. Anyway, that's the thing I won't let you talk me out of. I'm going to marry Zach Greenfield tomorrow."

She looked into Sarah's eyes and saw that Sarah guessed where she was going. Sarah's mouth had dropped open into an O. Her lashes brushed down briefly, covering her eyes for just a second before she looked starkly back at her friend.

"Oh, Lucy. What are you saying? That you don't love him back? Or—" Sarah frowned, looking deeper, and her face softened with understanding. "You're not sure if you do or not."

The relief was amazing. Lucy reached forward and grabbed Sarah's hands. "Sarah, I thought I did. I promise you, I thought I loved him. When he proposed, I felt like angels were singing or something.

"But since then, there's been so much going on—Zach's parents flying in from Arizona, and they're being supportive and all, but there's stuff that Zach hasn't told me about how they reacted. I can tell his mother was crying, and his father gave me this look once. Just—this look."

Sarah made a sympathetic noise.

"It was just that one time," Lucy continued, "and now they're pretending everything's okay, and they call me dear Lucy, and ask how I'm feeling, and I have to pretend too. But I think they must hate me underneath. You know?"

Sarah nodded.

"So how could that be okay? And I don't blame them. This isn't what they wanted for Zach. They want him free and at Williams College full-time, not married and at U-Mass part-time and being a father to a kid who's not his." She pulled her hands away from Sarah's and crossed her arms in front of her. "So."

"I see," said Sarah. "Oh, Lucy. I should have realized there would be all these … tensions. I guess I did, but I hadn't thought about exactly what they would be. I was more thinking about school and you needing to put off college yourself and stuff. But you have, like, in-law problems."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. It's true." Lucy hesitated. "That's not all, though. Zach has been making list after list about the future, and then checking things off one by one. Did I tell you, he's even found us a place of our own to live? We're going to house-sit for this professor who's on sabbatical with his family. And he's found this other part-time job, programming, that earns more money, and I don't even know what else he's got going."

"I knew about the house. Just three blocks away from your parents. That sounded great." Sarah grinned. "Actually, I went to look at it earlier today. Just a drive-by. It looks nice."

"I haven't seen the inside yet, but yes, a whole house to ourselves for very cheap, so long as we take good care of it. I'm not complaining, please don't think that."

"I would never think that."

"I'm just trying to explain how I'm feeling about Zach. I mean, it was already strange, being pregnant, but now, in the middle of all this crazy wedding stuff… sometimes it's like he's not Zach anymore. He's the Energizer Bunny. I don't even think he sleeps! He's just planning, planning, planning. And then racing in to tell me about something else he's got under control. That's what he says all the time, he has this thing under control; and then he has some other thing under control." Lucy did not add what she wanted to add, which was that from her point of view, it was all useless. How could Zach think he could fight the supernatural with a job and a nice place to live and a really good deal on a used car? Why instead wasn't he focusing on the time that he and Lucy had together, time that was running out fast?

"I barely see him," Lucy said.

Sarah nodded. "Anything else going on that's bugging you?"

"Oh, not really. Just maybe that Soledad is almost exactly the same way, except about the wedding. I don't understand that either. It's just a small ceremony at the house—family and close friends. How can there possibly be very much to do? I mean, I found a dress on eBay. And she got the justice of the peace booked, and the caterer. The house is perfectly clean. But she's still racing around doing I-have-no-idea-what."

"There's a lot going on," said Sarah.

"Yes. And you see, they're doing everything, and there I am. The cause of all the trouble. And I sit like a lump, growing the baby. It's honestly all I can manage, that and keeping up at school—and I bet I couldn't even do that if you weren't helping me. My mind's been so scattered. Sometimes, Sarah, it doesn't even seem worth it to me. School, I mean. So what if I fail physics? And I get so tired. But I have to pretend about school too. Pretend I care.

"I'm whining. There's no getting around it. I'm whining and I'm complaining."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Please. It's just me here. I think you have a right to whine. Honestly, Lucy. We all have the right to whine when life gets tough. I mean, remember? You used to let me whine to you all the time about Jeff, when we were going out, and then when I finally broke up with him. How come you think it's not okay for you to whine to me now? This is much bigger stuff than my problems with Jeff ever were."

"I don't know." Lucy squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She hadn't realized how badly she needed to talk until she opened the floodgates. And now she couldn't stop. "It's not that I don't think this is big. It's that—and also, Sarah, don't you dare say that what happened with you and Jeff wasn't big and serious too. It was. You were in real pain over him. I think you still are."

"And so are you in pain," said Sarah softly in the dim warmth of the room.

Somehow, that shut Lucy up.

After a minute, she pulled up her knees and hugged them. She looked across at Sarah, who was looking quietly back at her. She smiled crookedly at her friend.

"Say more," said Sarah. "Say more about Zach. Because what I think I'm hearing is that you do love him. That it's just a hard time right now. And you know what? I'm not going to say you shouldn't marry him, even though right at this moment, you're not sure."

"You're not?"

Sarah shook her head.

"What are you going to say, then?"

"That you're having trouble being the one who takes, instead of the one who gives." Lucy could feel the shock on her own face. She saw Sarah smile before she went on. "I understand that. But, Lucy, you have to learn to accept. And you have to learn to accept with—well, with grace, just the same way that you give. You've given plenty to me, in the past, whenever I needed you. Jeff—what happened with me there—that's only one example. So now, you get to receive. From everybody in your life. It's all right. It's more than all right."

Lucy was still staring speechlessly at Sarah.

"I'll be there for you tomorrow," Sarah said. "When you get married. And so will everybody who loves you, including Zach. And his parents, despite how difficult it may be for them in some ways."

Lucy was quiet for a long time. She had come here to talk with Sarah, to share how she was feeling. She had wanted to give Sarah the illusion of closeness, since she couldn't give the full truth. She had expected to be giving. She had not expected to be receiving.

She had underestimated her friend.

She would have to select her words carefully, but if she did, then she could tell the truth to Sarah. The truth of her heart, anyway. She said: "Zach's so strong, Sarah. I had no idea before now. He's changing his whole life, his whole future, for me and the baby. It takes my breath away."

"Yes," said Sarah. "He's giving. Your job is to accept."

"But I have nothing to give back!" Lucy found she was wailing. "He gives everything and gets nothing!" It was said. Her secret was safely passed to Sarah. Sarah, who would not understand fully, because she would think that this would be a longer marriage than the few weeks it truly would occupy. She would think that Lucy would be able to give to Zach later, in the give-and-take of a normal marriage.

But Sarah wasn't leaning forward, full of those types of reassurances. Instead, she was grinning. Grinning! And trying to restrain laughter—

"Sarah!" Awkward and lumbering though she was, Lucy flung aside the afghan, grabbed one of the sofa pillows, and hurled it at her friend. She followed up with another pillow, beating on Sarah's head. "I pour out my heart, and you laugh!"

"I'm sorry!"

"But I was completely serious, and I meant everything I said, and then you go and laugh—"

"Oh, I am sorry. I know you meant it. You were so earnest, but then the bit about,
he gets nothing
…" Sarah pulled the pillow away from Lucy and held it up in front of her face so that only her eyes showed above it. She waggled her eyebrows. "Granted, I'm more experienced than you are. We can thank the hateful Jeff for that. But I can think of a few things you could do for Zach. Can't you? Honestly, now?"

Lucy flushed scarlet. The conversation had taken yet another unexpected turn. She sat back down, and took up another pillow in order to hug it tightly. "Everything isn't all about sex, Sarah."

"But some things are."

"Sure, but that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about tonight."

"Well, are you done with what you wanted to talk to me about?" The glint of laughter in Sarah's eyes had mostly faded, but a small smile still lingered on her mouth.

For weeks and months now, Lucy had been feeling so much older than Sarah. Older, more tired, and more experienced. Now, twice in the same conversation, Sarah had made her feel like a child. Had Sarah always been this wise, and she hadn't noticed?

"Yes," she said. "I guess I'm done."

"Good. Because I had something I wanted to talk to you about tonight too. And yes, it's sex."

Lucy squirmed.

"Will you let me talk to you about this, Lucy?" Sarah wasn't laughing now, and Lucy realized abruptly that this topic was as hard for Sarah to bring up as it had been for her, before, to talk about how she was feeling.

"Yes," Lucy said uncertainly.

"Thanks."

There was a short silence before Sarah went on. "I saw how Zach was looking at you the other day, and how you were looking at him too. Maybe you're not in love, I don't know about that. Time will tell about that. But you're in lust. Both of you."