The Peculiar Miracles of Antoinette Martin: A Novel (26 page)

Rose and Will were waiting for them. “You’re both in one piece,” Rose said. She seemed tired and had her portable oxygen tank with her, but she looked pleased with herself.

“Antoinette was a big help,” Lily said. “We’re getting to know each other.”

Antoinette gave Rose the same half hug she had given Lily in the parking lot. Then she stuck her hands into a boxwood that had been shaped into a cat.

“What’d I tell you, Lils?” Will said. “Just like everyone else, right?”

“Don’t get cocky. Just because you were right once—”

Will pressed a hand to his chest. “Once? You wound me.”

“What do you think of the place?” Cora asked, appearing from behind the bar next to the hostess station. She had bundled her long dark hair into a knot. It was more gray than black now, but her face was smooth, as if time were afraid to touch her. “Rose redid the place a few years ago. Said she needed the extra money. I have no idea how she managed for so long without any family around.”

Cora was a busybody, and while she never meant for her words to sting, they did.

“She’s here now,” Will said, nodding at Lily. He didn’t touch her, but his presence steadied her.

“I managed just fine,” Rose said as she tried to keep Antoinette’s hands out of the boxwood.

Cora turned to Antoinette. “I’ve got something special for you. You want to come to the kitchen with me?”

Antoinette crossed over to Cora and took her hand.

Before they left, Cora narrowed her eyes at Lily. “Your mom and dad would be proud of you for coming home. Don’t disappoint them.” Without another word, she guided Antoinette through green double doors that led to the kitchen.

Lily was mute for several long seconds. When she found her voice, she said, “Will Antoinette be okay?” She was surprised by how protective she felt of her niece.

Rose threaded her way through the maze of booths and oak tables with ladder back chairs. “Cora’s good with her. Besides, she’s probably got chocolate back there. Antoinette will do anything for chocolate.”

Waitresses dressed in black and white circled through the room, polishing empty tables and folding napkins. The clink of silverware and plates echoed through the room.

“Eccentric place,” Will said, taking in the decor.

Rose picked a booth against the far wall and slid in.

Lily sat across from Rose with Will next to her. He leaned down and whispered to her. “It’s like a date.”

Lily elbowed him. He was so thin, she connected with his ribs more forcefully than she meant to, and he winced.

“You did a good job,” Lily said to Rose. “I would have never thought to put all of this together.” Separately, the purple, red, and green seemed too strong to ever stand together. Instead, it reminded Lily of the wildflowers in the field behind the farm—beautiful in an unexpected way.

The door to the back room opened and a waitress came in, arms loaded with boxes of flowers. Lily had wondered at Rose’s choices when she had picked them: blue irises, green and white hydrangea puffs from the greenhouse, and bright purple hyacinths. As she looked around the dining room, the flowers made sense.

For the first time since arriving home, Lily felt at peace. She leaned into Will, grateful he was there.

There was a bang and a clatter of metal from the kitchen. Rose winced. “Antoinette.”

They all turned toward the kitchen, just in time to see Antoinette wobble through the doors. Cora followed, a bright red splat across her white apron.

“Oh Cora,” Rose said. “I’m sorry.”

Cora held up her hand. “It wasn’t her fault. The staff knows better than to leave a pan of Bolognese sauce on the counter where she can grab it.”

Antoinette swiveled her face toward Rose and raised her hands.

Lily added another word to her growing lexicon of Antoinette- speak. Raised hands equals
up!

Rose lifted Antoinette across her lap. The little girl wiggled against the cushions, rocking the booth with her motion.

“Seth finished unloading the flowers,” Cora said. “Now he’s helping me with a load of fresh tomatoes.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m going to check on him, and then I’ve got something special for you. Antoinette’s already tried it, haven’t you?” Cora tried to catch Antoinette’s eyes, but Antoinette looked away. “Maybe next time,” she said, walking away.

Rose shifted. “Switch seats with me for a minute? I’ve got to use the restroom.”

As Lily took Rose’s place, Antoinette whimpered. She stretched across Lily toward Rose. If Antoinette was a flower, Lily thought, she would be lavender heather: loneliness.

Lily ran her fingers through Antoinette’s hair. “She’ll be back. I promise.” When she looked up, Will was staring at her.

“You’re different here,” he said. “Looser. More relaxed.” This was Will the doctor speaking. Thoughtful, observant—with anyone else she would have felt uncomfortable.

Antoinette slapped her hands against the wall. Lily touched her shoulder to steady her. There were only a few families in the dining room. No one seemed to notice Antoinette’s agitation.

“Some people just fit places. You fit here.” His smile was bittersweet. “I wish I had known you when you were growing up.”

Lily laughed. “No, you don’t. I was the strange kid everyone avoided.”

“I wouldn’t have avoided you.”

Lily knew he probably believed that, but everyone had avoided her when she was younger, everyone except Rose and Seth.

Rose returned before Lily could respond. She was grateful for the interruption; her feelings for Will were complicated.

“Diuretics,” Rose said with a shrug. “I can’t stay out of the bathroom for long.” The bathroom was only a short walk away, but Rose was winded from the effort.

Antoinette shrieked.

“See, I told you she’d be back,” Lily said as she slid out of the booth and tried to stand up. When she did, her feet tangled with Rose’s and she fell. As she went down, she flung out her left hand.

She felt it snap when she landed.

Pain shot through her hand and up her arm. She curled her body into a ball, her hand cradled in her lap. The last two fingers on her left hand were bent backward.

“Lily!” Will knelt beside her.

“Are you okay?” Rose crouched on Lily’s other side. “Your hand. I think it’s broken.”

Rose and Will hovered over Lily, shielding her from the view of others in the room, for which she was grateful. She felt light-headed. She sat up and put her head between her knees. There was a soft scuffle to her right. Then she felt a little hand on her shoulder.

“I’m okay,” she said through the haze of pain. She looked at her hand. Her last two fingers were fixed at a ninety-degree angle against the back of her hand.

“I’m going to be sick,” she whispered.

The little hand she felt on her shoulder inched down her arm to her hand. At the touch, electricity sparked through Lily’s skin. She cried out and arched her back.

Antoinette was next to her, eyes closed, humming an odd little song.

“Antoinette, no!” Rose yelled, but it was too late.

The spark of pain fanned into a blaze.

Lily groaned as her bones repositioned themselves under her skin.

“Holy shit!” Will said.

Lily’s hand burned until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

Then, just as suddenly, the pain stopped. She opened her eyes, and when she looked down she gasped.

Her hand was perfectly whole.

“Lils, your hand.” Will’s blue eyes were wide.

Lily curled her fingers into a fist. “It doesn’t hurt.”

He grabbed her hand and turned it over. “It was broken. I saw it.” He traced the bones from the tips of her fingers to the base of her hand.

“No,” Rose said. She caught Lily’s eye and slowly shook her head.
Don’t tell
, she mouthed.

“It couldn’t have been broken.” Rose leaned forward, shielding her daughter. “I don’t think anyone else saw,” she whispered to Lily.

Antoinette moaned. Then her eyes rolled back, and she began to shake.

“She’s seizing,” Will said, taking charge. “Get her on her side.”

A statistic popped into Lily’s mind: two percent of people with epilepsy died suddenly from seizures. Quickly, she rolled Antoinette over.

Will grabbed a penlight from his shirt pocket, lifted Antoinette’s eyelids, and shined the light in her eyes. “Does she seize like this often?”

“Yes,” Lily said, without thinking. “She seizes after . . .” She stopped as she looked down at her hand.

Will followed her gaze. “I saw it. She touched your hand and the bones moved.” His voice shook. “The bones
moved
! What the hell is going on?”

“Don’t be silly,” Lily said. “You’re seeing things.” She faked a laugh.

“Antoinette!” Seth suddenly appeared from the kitchen. “What happened?”

“I . . . I fell, on my hand. It’s okay now.” Lily held up her hand and flexed her fingers, horrified that healing her hand had caused Antoinette’s seizure.

For the first time since realizing what Antoinette could do, she understood Rose. Lily would rather suffer a broken hand than watch, helpless, while Antoinette seized.

“The seizure’s winding down,” Will said. He tucked the penlight back in his pocket and sat back.

“We’ve got it from here,” Seth said. He tried to take Will’s place next to Lily, but Will wouldn’t move.

Cora appeared, her face a mask of worry. “Do you want me to call 911?”

Rose shook her head and clenched her jaw. She glanced at Will. “She’ll be fine. She just needs some rest.”

As Antoinette stilled, quiet conversation resumed around them. Waiters moved through the charged atmosphere setting bread and wine on tables.

Lily looked up. Eli and MaryBeth Cantwell stood in the middle of the dining room, staring at them. A hostess had been leading them to a table. Eli’s eyes were wide in stunned amazement.

Rose pulled Antoinette onto her lap. “She can’t keep doing this.”

“Eli’s here,” Lily whispered. She stepped behind Rose, hoping to block his view of Antoinette. “We need to leave.”

“I’ll carry her to the van,” Seth said.

Rose pulled Antoinette closer to her chest. “I can’t let go,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around Antoinette and tried to stand, but her knees buckled.

Lily caught her elbow. “Let me help.” She slid her arms under her sister’s, and together they carried Antoinette outside.

Chapter Nineteen

It didn’t work. Antoinette knew.

She lay with her head in her mother’s lap as Seth drove home. She was drowsy but not asleep. Soon she wouldn’t be able to fight the fatigue, but she wasn’t there yet.

She had hummed along with Lily’s song, changing the notes that were wrong, but the seizure came before she could lock everything in place. Lily’s bones wiggled like teeth ready to fall out. Healings never lasted, but this one would end sooner than most.

Antoinette twitched, her hand opening and closing on its own. Her mother smoothed her hair back from her face. The van bumped down the road, and Antoinette’s eyes became heavier. The thought came again as she fell asleep.

It didn’t work.

Chapter Twenty

Lily stared out the window as she and Will drove back to Eden Farms. Cherry blossoms decorated the trees along the road, but she didn’t notice. She also didn’t count. Furthermore, she didn’t care that failure to wear a seat belt accounted for 51 percent of deaths in auto accidents, and Will was not wearing his.

Instead, she examined her hand, turning it over, looking for a clue that would explain how Antoinette fixed things. But there was nothing. Just her hand, perfectly whole. Her fingers bending. Her skin unbruised.

And yet, something wasn’t right. She felt a small catch in her last two fingers. She curled her hand into a fist. As she straightened it, something shifted. Her bones felt loose. There was a sharp pinprick at the base of her little finger.

She dropped her hand and looked out the front window at the rear of Seth’s truck, Rose and Antoinette riding with him. Will hummed distractedly and tapped the steering wheel. Lily stole a glance at him. He looked at home driving the Eden Farms’ van. His black hair was slicked back making his face seem thinner and his cheekbones sharper.