?????????? ? ?????????? ???? ??????? ??? ?????????? ? ?????????? ???? ????????? ? 11/24/10=554 N/A Yes 01/07/11=24,712 02/20/11=48,806 11/25/10=1,091 Yes Yes 01/08/11=25,283 02/21/11=49,323 11/26/10=1,636 Yes Yes 01/09/11=25,802 02/22/11=49,832 11/27/10=2,212 Yes Yes 01/10/11=26,352 02/23/11=50,370 11/28/10=2,746 Yes Yes 01/11/11=26,871 02/24/11=50,904 11/29/10=3,261 Yes Yes 01/12/11=27,395 02/25/11=51,465 11/30/10=3,817 Yes Yes 01/13/11=27,965 02/26/11=51,970 12/01/10=4,352 Yes Yes 01/14/11=28,500 02/27/11=52,543 12/02/10=5,039 Yes Yes 01/15/11=29,010 02/28/11=53,243 12/03/10=5,561 Yes Yes 01/16/11=29,569 03/01/11=53,762 12/04/10=6,092 Yes Yes 01/17/11=30,100 03/02/11=54,313 12/05/10=6,658 Yes Yes 01/18/11=30,642 03/03/11=54,857 12/06/10=7,198 Yes Yes 01/19/11=31,180 03/04/11=55,450 12/07/10=7,763 Yes Yes 01/20/11=31,681 03/05/11=55,968 12/08/10=8,278 Yes Yes 01/21/11=32,220 03/06/11=56,513 12/09/10=8,894 Yes Yes 01/22/11=32,752 03/07/11=57,013 12/10/10=9,394 Yes Yes 01/23/11=33,404 03/09/11=57,504 12/12/10=10,458 Yes Yes 01/24/11=33,946 03/10/11=58,004 12/13/10=10,958 Yes Yes 01/25/11=34,488 03/11/11=58,532 12/14/10=11,458 Yes Yes 01/26/11=35,030 03/13/11=58,867 12/15/10=11,980 Yes Yes 01/27/11=35,670 03/14/11=59,402 12/16/10=12,525 Yes Yes 01/28/11=36,195 03/15/11=59,931 12/17/10=13,078 Yes Yes 01/29/11=36,862 03/16/11=60,471 12/18/10=13,680 Yes Yes 01/30/11=37,399 03/17/11=61,086 12/19/10=14,208 Yes Yes 01/31/11=37,916 03/18/11=61,629 12/20/10=14,740 Yes Yes 02/01/11=38,455 03/19/11=62,170 12/21/10=15,289 Yes Yes 02/02/11=38,981 03/20/11=62,743 12/22/10=15,789 Yes Yes 02/03/11=39,501 03/21/11=63,332 12/23/10=16,337 Yes Yes 02/04/11=40,018 03/22/11=63,849 12/24/10=16,867 Yes Yes 02/05/11=40,621 03/23/11=64,364 12/25/10=17,435 Yes Yes 02/07/11=41,672 03/24/11=64,880 12/26/10=17,990 Yes Yes 02/08/11=42,184 03/25/11=65,407 12/27/10=18,560 Yes Yes 02/09/11=42,908 03/26/11=65,968 12/28/10=19,072 Yes Yes 02/10/11=43,446 03/27/11=66,584 12/29/10=19,696 Yes Yes 02/11/11=43,987 03/28/11=67,176 12/30/10=20,231 Yes Yes 02/12/11=44,527 03/29/11=67,707 12/31/10=20,814 Yes Yes 02/13/11=45,142 03/30/11=68,222 01/01/11=21,346 Yes Yes 02/14/11=45,689 03/31/11=68,832 01/02/11=21,881 Yes Yes 02/15/11=46,214 04/01/11=69,443 01/03/11=22,425 Yes Yes 02/16/11=46,760 04/02/11=69,998 01/04/11=23,002 Yes Yes 02/17/11=47,275 01/05/11=23,524 Yes Yes 02/18/11=47,754 01/06/11=24,066 Yes Yes 02/19/11=48,276 Okay – Cheryl picks up McKenna to go out to dinner. She had previously arranged to meet Robert at the nursing home where he was going to be visiting Celia. When Cheryl and McKenna arrive, they see the smoke coming from one end of the building. Cheryl calls 911 as she dashes into the building and down the hall towards Celia's room. McKenna follows behind but is stopped at the entrance by the fireman who had just arrived. McKenna thought that someone else had already called 911 because the fire trucks had arrived shortly after Cheryl ran into the building. McKenna walks to the side of the building where she thinks Celia's room is just as something comes crashing through the window. She's almost hit by a chair flying out the window then sees Cheryl at the window trying to help someone through the window. McKenna runs over to help. Cheryl has her arms around Celia trying to help her through the window. McKenna reaches in and helps the older woman out through the window frame. Some of the shards of glass cut Celia and McKenna. McKenna holds onto Celia but Celia collapses to the ground, falling into a snowdrift. McKenna takes off her parka to cover the older woman, then runs to find help. Meanwhile Cheryl is still inside the nursing home. When Cheryl had arrived in Celia's room to rescue her, Robert hadn't been there. Celia had been disoriented from the billowing smoke and fright at the situation but had Robert hadn't arrived yet. Beatrice is Lily's mom -- she was a writer who ghostwrote for a syndicate on a series about twin teenaged girl detectives similar to the Stratemeyer Syndicate and Nancy Drew. Maureen Ridgeley, Lily's doctor; Jessica Caviletti, Lily's pseudonym. Lily Bannister, McKenna Mattingly, Jamie, Josh, Traci Mattingly, Paul, Ruth Washington, Traci's husband / McKenna's father is Matt Mattingly - Paul Long is a lawyer, a friend from childhood or maybe he's connected to Celia Long. Lily pled guilty, received a suspended sentence and remanded to rehab, where she learned about AA -- soon her mantra became make amends but no one in her family would talk to her so she couldn't make amends. Interesting dynamic -- in my previous books, I told everything I knew about the characters and the situation as quickly as I could -- I spilled it all, not realizing that holding it back is better. It causes suspense and tension and the urge to keep reading, to find out what's going on. Celia is the woman who takes her under her wing. Lily cleans her house and learns so much about her from seeing her things in the house. The photos, the books, the music, the movies, they all tell a story. Ralph is Celia's husband. Lily has read the newspapers painstakingly for 20 years so she could know if by chance her loved ones died. Lily felt a deep need to find a core of humility so she cleaned other people's houses. She went religiously to AA meetings, she lived sparsely, frugally. When she had a boatload of money coming in, she kept only 10% of it and tithed or donated the other 90%. I forgot about the minister thing. I think tomorrow I'll go through my notes and type those ideas in here. I'm re-thinking the Jamie Angel book series and TV series. That might be more than I can do. I might not know enough about how to write that part. And maybe that detracts from the story of abandonment and reparations. We'll see. I don't have to decide for awhile. I can continue writing and thinking. Jack Snyder, the head of the advance team, a 40ish Jewish man, originally from New York City. who was now permanently and happily ensconced in DC. Todd Carmody, the university vice chancellor for communications to whom Lily reported, Ruth Washington is the social worker. The Barnes guard is named Jane. Mrs. Mason was Celia's housekeeper. Traci's husband is named Dan. Saturday, January 22, 2011 Cheryl dies. As she dies, she gives a message to Lily from Jamie. “Tell the world about me, Gramma,” Epilogue: McKenna and Paul are together. Lily tells her secret to the world. McKenna is working on Cheryl’s website. McKenna is hateful and horrible and resentful and enraged and angry. Then she breaks down into tears. Knowing what a mess she’s in. McKenna was lifelong friends with Cheryl Hancock’s daughter Leslie. Leslie died of heart failure at the age of 25 from a congenital heart defect that she had had all her life. Because of her heart condition, Leslie had had to live a half-life or a semi-life as she called it. Leslie is the webmaster of Cheryl Hancock’s website. They’re in close touch. Cheryl tracks McKenna down and comes to visit her at the hospital. McKenna’s going to be released from the hospital . She wants to stay with Cheryl But Cheryl tells her she has to go make peace with her grandmother. Paul eventually convinces McKenna to plead guilty and throw herself on the mercy of the court – which she does. The judge puts her on five years conditional probation – conditions include attending AA meetings and seeing a counselor. She’s released into the care of her grandmother. McKenna comes to stay at Lily’s -- resentful hateful, surly, ungrateful, angry – She eventually discovers Lily’s secret about Jamie Angel. It’s a young adult boo series about a 13-year-o;d boy who returns to earth with a mission: to help those in trouble – The book series was sold to a cable network who made it into a long- running, megapopular series on cable – the most-watched cable series ever. It’s a motivational story but grounded– not pie in the sky. Jamie’s earthly guide in his work is an older woman (Lily!!) who has a sense of humor and a gentle guiding hand. Jamie eventually learns that she too is an angel -- And that she’s in fact his grandmother from an earlier life – a fact that had been hidden from him. McKenna is furious when she discovers Lily’s secret. She tells Cheryl about it. Cheryl says “I know.” Cheryl sits with McKenna and talks some sense into her. Tells her to pay attention to Lily and Paul – that they are her family and her salvation. Cheryl holds McKenna’s hand and tells her about her own impending death. She says, “I won’t be here for you in my earthly form anymore – I’m going to join Leslie.” Shattered by the impending loss of Cheryl, McKenna falls to pieces. Lily finds her sobbing, exhausted granddaughter and gets her to tell her what’s going on. MCKenna can’t help herself and confides everything to Lily. Lily confides everything to McKenna – Paul finds the two of them sobbing in one another’s arms. They tell Paul about Cheryl’s impending death And he’s determined To try to prevent it.— Nursing home fire -- Cheryl dies trying to save Celia. Celia and Princess are okay. Robert tries to save them both. Robert and Cheryl perish but Celia survives. McKenna and Lily reconcile. McKenna and Paul admit their feelings for one another. Lily shares the story of Jamie and her identity with the world. A Look Back July 8, 1990 Lily The most exhilarating chapter of Lily's life also became the catalyst for the shattering of her life. Twenty years ago, she'd been one of the top public relations professionals in St. Louis. She'd just turned 50, an incredibly young-looking, beautiful 50. Tall, slender with glossy blond hair worn in the latest style, she dressed in high fashion, and was always up-to-date on the latest news and gossip. The highlight of her very successful career had been project managing a presidential visit to the prestigious private university where she was the director of PR Todd Carmody, the university vice chancellor for communications to whom Lily reported, had assigned her responsibility for coordinating the presidential visit. The excitement had begun two weeks before the scheduled visit, when the advance team, accompanied by a contingent of Secret Service agents had descended on the university and its communications department. There were 20 people in the communications department, four of them reporting to Lily in public relations. All of them were called into action for the visit. It was a close, convivial group that had bonded with one another over the years. They were younger than Lily and Todd, and were all hard-drinking partiers. Liquid lunches were the rule rather than the exception. Keeping her overindulgence in alcohol and her overreaction to it a secret was a challenge for Lily. She'd evolved into a high-functioning alcoholic and struggled to hide her dependence on alcohol. At times, she'd thought about trying to stop drinking but never did. It made her feel so warm, so safe, so cocooned. Why give up something that made her feel so good? The only problem was that sometimes when she'd had too much to drink she went off on emotional rampages, lambasting into anyone and everyone. She'd managed to confine her behavior to family and friends, not exposing any of her colleagues at work to her tirades. For the two weeks before the visit, the communications department and the advance team had met for hours every day, planning each second, every detail of the visit. Lunches were of the long and liquid variety. A drink after office hours turned into evenings on the town. Lily particularly liked Jack Snyder, the head of the advance team, a 40ish Jewish man, originally from New York City, who was now permanently and happily ensconced in DC. Lily had been married to her high school sweetheart Josh for 32 years and they had a 31-year-old daughter who was the mother of 10-year-old-twins, Jamie and McKenna. Lily called the twins the miracle babies or sometimes the million-dollar babies. They'd been born at 26 weeks; Jamie weighed 2 pounds, 2 ounces and McKenna had been a tiny 1 pound 8 ounces. Lily had been able to hold each baby in her hand. Wednesday, November 24, 2010 Prologue The chill November wind whipped at the hem of Lily's raincoat, a black London Fog she'd had for two decades. The coat had been her 50th birthday present from her husband, the last present he'd ever given her.. It was dusk, her habitual time for visiting Jamie. She'd been making this daily pilgrimage for almost as long as she'd had the London Fog coat – nearly 20 years now. With the end of daylight saving time, she'd been changing her time for the daily visit to progressively earlier times. By December, dusk would come around 4 p.m. The ground was wet from the day's rain showers. Her sneakers were damp and uncomfortable but she paid no attention, concentrating her thoughts on the upcoming visit to Jamie. Chapter 1 Wednesday, November 24, 2010 Lily Later, as Lily walked back home, on this Wednesday before Thanksgiving, her mind was on the next day's activities. She would rise at her usual time of 5 a.m. An hour and a half later, she'd be on her way downtown to the homeless shelter where she was scheduled to spend the day helping to prepare and serve thousands of turkey dinners. As she opened her front door, Kitty greeted her with a yowl and then with a welcoming mew. Lily reached down to pet the sleek black stray who'd adopted her several years ago. Kitty wound her way around Lily's ankles as Lily took off her raincoat and hung it on the antique brass coat tree in the foyer of her small cottage. The house was located on the outskirts of Rivermont, a mid-sized Midwest city, situated high on the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi River, close to St. Louis. She'd lived in Rivermont since leaving her life in St. Louis behind 20 years ago. For her first few years in Rivermont, she'd rented a room in a boarding house in the same neighborhood where she now lived. As she'd become more financially stable, she'd bought the cottage and over time, had transformed what had been, when she bought it, a run-down ruin, into a charming refuge. She noticed the red blinking light on the answering machine on the secretary desk in the foyer. Wondering who was calling her, she listened to the message. Once she’d heard the message, she was sure someone had left the message in error, then decided to listen again. "My name is Ruth Washington. I'm a social worker at Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis. Please call me at 314-555-5555. We need to speak with you about a patient who listed you as her next of kin. Thank you." Lily listened to the message for a third time, this time writing down the woman's name and telephone number on the tablet she kept next to the answering machine. She tore off the piece of paper and took it with her into the kitchen. The room was dimly lit by the light over the stove, and Lily turned on the overhead light to brighten things up. She put the note down on the counter and fixed herself a cup of orange mint tea. Lily sat on one of the high stools that stood on one side of the kitchen counter, cradling the warm cup of tea in both hands. Kitty joined her in the kitchen, bounding up onto the counter, forbidden territory, hoping for treats or at least some interesting crumbs. But Lily was thinking of the note and reached out absent-mindedly to stroke Kitty's back rather than shooing her off the counter. The counter was the place where she ate most of her meals. Sometimes for Sunday dinner, she'd set a place for herself at the dining room table, with candles lit and jazz playing on the stereo but mostly she ate sitting at the counter. She'd managed to keep herself from standing at the counter or over the sink to eat. For each meal, she insisted on setting a place for herself either at the counter or at the dining room table with a place mat and napkin and silverware and sitting down to eat. This kept a semblance of civility and propriety in her daily routine. The cuckoo clock over the refrigerator sounded the half-hour, and Lily looked up to see that it was already 5:30. She'd thought it was earlier but somehow time had gotten away from her. She finished the last of her tea and stood up, thinking about what she'd planned for dinner. It had long been a tradition of hers to have Caesar salad and cheese garlic bread sticks on Thanksgiving Eve. The significance of those particular choices was only that they'd been among her favorites for as long as she could remember. She turned on the small TV that was tucked in a corner of the kitchen counter. The national evening news was on ,and as Lily got out the ingredients for her dinner, she half-listened, half-watched Katie Couric deliver the day's news. Her mind was divided between the TV news and the phone message lying on the counter as she put the bread sticks in the toaster oven, then assembled the salad. Who would have listed her as next of kin? She'd long ago been out of touch with any of her family. And now there was hardly anyone left. The timer on the toaster oven dinged to announce that the bread sticks were ready. She put them on a plate and set it next to her salad. The dinner looked as inviting as she'd expected, and she realized how hungry she was. Somehow she'd forgotten to eat lunch today. The ring of the phone startled her. She received few phone calls on her landline. Most of her calls came on her cell. Because she didn't have caller ID on the landline, she used the answering machine as a way to screen calls. She waited as her message played, then heard the caller identifying herself as Ruth Washington, a social worker at Barnes-Jewish Hospital. Lily reached out to lift the receiver of the wall phone next to the kitchen counter. "This is Lily Bannister," she said into the receiver. "How may I help you?" "Yes, Mrs. Bannister, my name is Ruth Washington. I'm a social worker at Barnes-Jewish hospital in St. Louis. We have a patient here who just today was able to tell us that you are her next of kin. You're the only contact she would give us. I'm calling you because we needed to talk with someone about her condition and her status." Lily's heart began to thud, as she prepared to ask the woman the obvious question. It took a few moments for her to get the words out but finally she said, "What is the patient's name, please?" "Her name is McKenna Mattingly. She didn't indicate whether you're a relative or a friend." The woman paused, evidently waiting for Lily to answer the unspoken question. "I see," Lily said slowly. "McKenna is my granddaughter." "Oh, that's good," Ruth Washington said, relief in her tone. She paused as if waiting for Lily to ask what was wrong with McKenna, why she was in the hospital, all the obvious questions. But Lily was silent. "Well," Ruth Washington said into the awkward silence. "Ms. Mattingly was in a serious automobile accident two weeks ago?" There was a questioning note in her words, as if she were wondering why the grandmother didn't seem to know about the granddaughter's accident. Again, Lily was silent, waiting for the woman to continue. "Well, as I said, Ms. Mattingly was critically injured in an automobile accident. For the first day or so, the doctors weren't sure if she was going to make it. She suffered a severe head injury and spent the first week following the accident in a coma. When she came out of the coma, she seemed to be suffering from some kind of residual amnesia or brain trauma. She was unable to give us any information about who to contact. Finally, today, she provided us with your name but she didn't have a phone number for you or even know where you lived." Lily heard the curious tone in the woman's voice. She didn't ask the question aloud but wondered how the hospital had found her. Ruth Washington seemed to sense her question and answered it without prompting. "These days, with the Internet and all the people locators, finding you was a matter of a few minutes and a few keystrokes." Of course, Lily thought ruefully, the Internet. "Anyway, Mrs. Bannister," Ruth Washington continued, "here's the deal. Physically, Ms. Mattingly is well enough to be discharged from the hospital. But mentally, she's still rather foggy and disoriented. We can't release her on her own. We need to release her into someone's care. And that's where you come in. Would it be possible for you to take responsibility for your granddaughter for a short while, until she's back to herself mentally?" Lily's silence felt like a palpable thing. Her heart again began its thudding and she found it difficult to breathe. "Mrs. Bannister? Are you still there?" Ruth Washington's voice sounded a note of concern. Still Lily couldn't answer. "Mrs. Bannister? Did we get disconnected?" "No, Ms Washington," Lily finally answered in a strained voice. "We didn't get disconnected. I'm still here. I just don't think I can help you." "I'm not the one who needs help," came the tart rejoinder. "It's your granddaughter who needs help. And at the moment, it seems that you're the only who can provide that help." Lily hesitated a moment before responding, then asked, "Does my granddaughter know that you've contacted me?" "Well, no, actually, she doesn't. As I said, she's more than a little mentally fuzzy, and it's been difficult to talk with her." Lily gave a small smile as she thought that Ruth Washington's unspoken words were, "Just like her grandmother." "I see," was Lily's only reply. There was a silence on the other end of the line, then Ruth Washington said, "I'm not sure you do see, Mrs. Bannister. Physically, Ms. Mattingly doesn't need hospitalization. But mentally she needs oversight. If you can't help her, our only recourse will be to initiate commitment procedures. She'll have to be remanded to a state mental hospital." The words hung there between them. Ruth Washington waited for Lily's response but nothing came. She was more than a little frustrated with this woman. Her reactions certainly weren't what the social worker had anticipated. She plunged on in what she was beginning to consider an extremely one-sided conversation. "Here's what we would like you to do. Could you come to the hospital tomorrow and meet with me to discuss the options for Ms. Mattingly?" Lily said, "Tomorrow's Thanksgiving Day, you know." "Yes, of course, I know," Ruth Washington said briskly. "I'm on duty tomorrow and I'll be at Barnes from 8 in the morning till 8 in the evening. Can you break away from whatever your holiday festivities are to spend a few minutes talking with me about what to do about your granddaughter." Lily barely managed to repress a snort of laughter at the words, holiday festivities. Preparing and serving turkey dinners for the homeless hardly qualified as holiday festivities. Lips straight and unyielding, Lily said stiffly, "I have commitments until about 6 p.m. tomorrow. It will take me about an hour to get to Barnes. So I'll plan on being there around 7 p.m. Is that acceptable?" In a comparably stiff voice, Ruth Washington answered, "Yes, that's acceptable. Just ask for me at the information desk in the main lobby. I'll come down to get you or have someone escort you to my office. Goodbye until tomorrow then." Not waiting for Lily's response, Ruth Washington hung up the phone. Lily stood there motionless, gripping the receiver tightly, trying to wrap her mind around what had just occurred. The sudden loud sound of the dial tone penetrated her consciousness, and she quickly hung up the receiver. Lily shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to regain her equilibrium. She looked over at the counter where her dinner awaited her and shook her head again. She'd lost her appetite. Ever frugal, she carefully wrapped up the breadsticks in a piece of foil and covered the salad with another piece of foil. After she put her dinner into the refrigerator, she stood in the middle of the kitchen looking around, feeling disconnected from herself. Lily turned out the kitchen lights and turned to head toward her bedroom. "McKenna." The name came out in a whisper. Chapter 2 Thursday, November 25, 2010 Lily It was past 6 on Thanksgiving evening and Lily had been on her feet for almost 12 hours. She was incredibly tired but it was a good, productive tiredness. She felt that the 12 hours had been a blessing to her, a time of serving those who weren't as fortunate as she. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas for the past 18 years, she'd been one of the dedicated workers at the Rivermont Shelter. She'd come to know many of the volunteers, and she'd also come to know many of those who came for the dinner. Each year, it broke her heart to see the returnees. It also broke her heart for those who didn't return, whether by choice because they'd managed to improve their lot in life or not by choice but by death. One of the other regular servers at the shelter was Paul Long, the grandson of a dear, close friend of hers, Celia Long. Celia was the woman who had helped Lily through the most difficult time of her life. Celia would turn 90 at Christmas time, and Lily marveled at the woman’s sharp mind and active body. Lily hoped that if she were to live as long as Celia, she'd have the same physical energy and mental acuity.. "Hey, Lily," came Paul's cheery voice in her ear. "Let's get out of here. I'm not having any fun. Besides, I think we're done feeding the hordes." Lily grinned up at him and gave him a pat on the arm. "Paul, you're incorrigible, and I think you may have missed the point of what we're doing here." "Just kidding, kiddo," came Paul's rejoinder. "Can I interest you in a wonderful steak dinner somewhere?" Lily groaned and said, "How can you possibly think of food? I don't want anything to do with food for a really long time." "Well, I can take you out for a cup of coffee maybe, or tea?" "Don't you have someone closer to your age than a 70-year-old wreck of a woman?" Lily's self-deprecating comment brought a laugh out of Paul. "Wreck is not a word that would ever be used to describe you, Madame Lily Bannister. You are an elegant, beautiful woman, no matter how much you try to hide it. Despite that severe bun and no make-up and less than stylish clothes, you're still a knock-out, no matter what your age." Lily gave him a grin and a mock bow, saying, "Thank you very much, kind sir." Paul mock-bowed in return and offered his arm to Lily. She shook her head at him and said, "I wish I could go for coffee with such a handsome young man, but unfortunately, I have a prior commitment." Paul looked at her quizzically as if waiting for her to explain. But Lily just shook her head at him and said, "Why don't you go visit your grandmother? I'm sure she'd love to see you." "Actually, that's where we were going for coffee," Paul answered with a mischievous grin. "Oh, rats, Paulie. I wish I could go with you. But I have some business to take care of that can't wait." "Business! On Thanksgiving evening? You've got to be kidding. I suspect you have a hot date with someone and are just embarrassed to tell me about it." "Paul, I repeat, you are incorrigible. No hot date, just business." Lily planted a kiss on Paul's cheek, then waved good-bye and disappeared out the side door of the shelter before Paul could gather his wits together to respond. Outside, Lily reached in her coat pocket for her car keys. This morning, she'd parked as close to the door as she could, knowing the unlit parking lot would be dark by the time she was finished at the shelter. She wanted to get in her car and drive directly home and put in a few hours of work on her latest novel or Web site project. Or go with Paul to visit his grandmother Celia at the Rivermont Nursing Home. She wanted to do anything in the world but drive to St. Louis to see this social worker at Barnes. It had gotten considerably colder during the day, and to her dismay, a few snow flurries were dancing in the air around her. She hadn't listened to a weather forecast so had no idea if the snow flurries were a meaningless anomaly or a precursor of a blizzard. Inside her Ford Escape, she started the engine and turned the heater to high. The first minute or so, arctic air blasted her but then it turned blessedly warm. She turned on the radio and searched the dial for a weather forecast. She finally found one on a staticky AM station at the far end of the dial. To her relief, the snow flurries were just that and not the beginnings of a snowstorm. Although, a blizzard forecast would have given her the perfect excuse not to go see Ruth Washington. She put the Escape in gear, turned on the headlights and drove out of the parking lot. Fortunately, the shelter was located just one block from highway 55, which would lead her directly into downtown St. Louis. Once on the highway, she leaned back and deliberately tried to relax. It had been years since she'd gone to St. Louis, despite how close it was. That trip 10 years ago had also involved a visit to a hospital, not Barnes but a smaller one in the county. A world-renowned migraine specialist was officed there and Lily's internist had referred her to the specialist. He'd said in his singsong West Indian intonation, "Miss Lily, I'm sorry but there's nothing more I can do about your headaches. I've given it my best –" he'd paused here and looked to her to supply the word. "Shot," Lily supplied. "You've given it your best shot, Dr. Ramdangelon." One of their regular things had been Lily supplying the doctor with American idioms when necessary. He's given her the name of the migraine specialist and had wished her good luck. "Let me know the results," had been his melodic farewell. The migraine specialist had been unable to provide a physical solution to Llily's headaches. But the doctor, a lovely young woman, had suggested meditation as a palliative measure. "Try it," the doctor had said. "What have you got to lose?" So Lily had begun the study of mediation and finally the act of meditation itself. And she had been happy with the results. She now regularly meditated daily and credited it with her calm demeanor and ability to roll with the punches, so to speak. Except in extreme circumstances like now, she thought. She hadn't had time to meditate today and she missed its calming effects. She was doing her best to block out the barrage of thoughts that were threatening to crash through her mind. She didn't want to think about McKenna, she didn't want to think about anyone in her family. She wanted to live her simple life. But it looked as though that might not be possible. She felt a vibration in her coat pocket and reached in to pull out her cell phone. Paul's name and number were on the LED screen. For a moment she hesitated, tempted to let the call roll to voice mail, then thought better of it. Paul was one of the few people she'd allowed into her life. He was a dear young man and if he were calling her, she owed it to him to answer. She plugged the phone in the hands-free phone cradle in the Escape and said, "Hello, Mr. Long. What can I do for you?" There was the briefest of hesitations before Paul answered. "Sorry about that, he said. "I was turning out of the parking lot, and I don't do well turning and talking on the phone." "You need one of these fancy hands-free thingies like I have in my car. Very safe. Now, what's up?" "Well," Paul said slowly. "I'm concerned about you. It's not like you to not tell me what you're doing. It's very much not like you. So that worries me." Lily took a deep breath and considered how to answer her young friend. He and his grandmother were her family now, and she didn't want to worry either of them. "Paul, it's just something I can't talk about right now. I need to see to something. As soon as I've done that, I'll let you know what this is all about. And Paul, I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything to Celia. I certainly don't want her worrying about me. Okay?" There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then Paul sighed and said, "Okay, I guess. You know this really bothers me, don't you?" "Yes, Paulie, I know that. But please, you just have to trust me. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to hang up. It's starting to snow and I need my full concentration on driving. I still have a long way to go to St. Louis." "St. Louis? You're going in to St. Louis. You never go there. Now, you've got me really worried." "Paul." Lily's tone was firm, almost sharp. "I'm hanging up now." And with that she pressed the end call tab on the Escape's steering wheel. She debated whether she wanted to listen to her current audio book but decided she was too distracted to pay attention to the story, and she'd just have to re-listen to it another time. Instead, she turned on the radio and switched to the satellite function, which had been a six-month freebie when she bought the Escape. She found the classical music station she liked and let the music flow over and through her, thinking it served the same purpose and produced the same results as her meditation. It took almost the full hour she'd planned on to reach Barnes. She let her mind wander as she drove the highway, trying to think about anything but McKenna. She found herself grinning as she thought back over her conversation with Paul. At least he hadn't bugged her about her work. Paul was her attorney and he handled the contracts for her website projects. She had a one that was overdue, and Paul's job was to nag her about finishing it. He also handled the publication contracts for the fiction she wrote and for the rights she’d sold to a cable network. Paul's grandmother Celia had been the inadvertent catalyst of Lily's career. Twenty years ago, when Lily had first come to Rivermont, Celia had indirectly and then directly saved Lily from herself. Unemployed, Lily had taken the first job she could find, for a Rivermont housecleaning service. One of her clients was Celia. In addition to desperately needing the money, one of Lily’s motives for taking the housecleaning job was as a way of trying to humble herself, for a variety of reasons. And humble her it had. When someone asked what she did and she told them she cleaned houses, she could see their minds turn away her. Lily had accepted their disdain because she had her reasons for wanting to eliminate her ego, and cleaning houses helped her learn humility. For the first couple of months of cleaning Celia's house, Lily hadn't met the woman. Her son, Robert Long, was the one who hired Lily, and he told her his mother was in a nursing home. "Oh?" Lily had said, thinking she should be politely inquisitive but not really caring if the woman was in Timbuktu or on the moon. So Lily had begun her bi-weekly cleaning of Celia Long's home. From the moment she'd stepped inside, she'd felt at home there. It was an old house, 100 years or more her grandson had said. But it was in pristine condition. Evidently, money was not in short supply in the Long family, and it seemed as though Celia had updated and renovated the house top-to-bottom. But the updating had not destroyed the character and charm of the old house. On her first day there, Celia's 20-year-old grandson Paul had shown her around, then left her to own devices. Lily had walked from room to room, inhaling the cinnamon-y scent, liking the sun streaming in through the windows. The house was decorated in no particular style, just for comfort. The furniture was eclectic, and Lily suspected that the furnishings had been purchased because the owner liked them, not because she felt a need to impress anyone. Family pictures were scattered everywhere. Lily noticed that there was no formal artwork hanging on the walls, just family portraits. Every room had bookcases and Lily surmised that the house's owner must love to read. Lily looked through the titles, surprised to see that many of them numbered among her favorite books. There were record albums and cassette tapes of classical music and a small assortment of jazz, also among Lily's favorites. Every two weeks, Lily looked forward to coming back to the Long house. The first few times she was there, she kept expecting the grandson to be there also. But the house was always empty. As she cleaned, Lily listened to books on tape on the Sony Walkman she wore clipped to her belt. Listening to novels and mysteries made the time go by pleasantly but most important, it kept Lily's mind off her own life. Lily became fascinated with the woman who owned the house. From the family pictures, she could tell that Celia Long had once been quite a beauty. Even in the photos of her in her 60s and 70s, she was still strikingly attractive. Lily had always enjoyed making up stories about people, and she created an interesting fictional life for Celia. As a hobby, Lily also wrote fiction, mostly short stories that she thought weren't very good but which she found a fun thing to do. She began writing stories with Celia as the main character, inventing a career for her as an attorney and a family that lived exciting adventures. She supposed that if she ever met the real Celia, she'd be disappointed but that didn't matter. One day after Lily had been cleaning Celia's home for three months, her grandson Paul was there when Lily arrived. He met her at the front door and after she'd come in and put down her cleaning equipment, he'd said he wanted to speak to her. "Yes, Mr. Long, what is it?" Lily had asked in her deferential mode. "Please, Mr. Long is my Dad. Call me Paul. Anyway, my grandmother is coming home from the nursing home this afternoon. We're going to have to find a housekeeper for her, and my Dad wondered if you might be interested. It would be a full-time, live-in position, and we could pay you more than whatever your current income is." "I don't know," Lily had answered slowly. "I might be able to do it. I think I would need to meet your grandmother first, to see if we were compatible. She might not like me." "Well, there's not much chance of that," Paul Long had answered with a broad smile. "Gran likes everyone.” Paul told her he was going to first pick up his father and then they would pick up his grandmother from the nursing home. “We’ll be back in about an hour,” Paul said. Lily told him she’d be there. She’d gone about her work, turning the proposition over in her mind. Cleaning houses earned her enough money to support herself frugally. She rented a room in a boarding house and rode buses to and from her jobs. What would it be like to be this woman’s housekeeper? A lot would depend on the woman herself. Lily knew she loved this house, would love to live here. But if she took the job, she would have to tell Celia and her son and maybe her grandson about what had happened, why she was living in Rivermont, everything. When she’d signed on with the cleaning service, she’d only told them she’d had some family problems and was taking her life in a different direction. That had been enough for them. They evidently hadn’t done a background check or they would have found out about her past. Two hours later, longer than Paul had said, he and his grandmother Celia Long and his father Robert Long arrived back at Celia’s home. Lily was just finishing her cleaning and stood waiting in the entry hall as Paul helped his grandmother inside, with Robert following behind, carrying a suitcase. Lily was struck by the older woman’s beauty. She must be close to 70 and her hair was salt and pepper, more pepper than salt. Her features and skin were those of woman 10 or 15 years younger. Her eyes were a deep blue and sparkled in the sunlight. She smile at Lily and held out her hand, saying “Hello, my dear. It’s a pleaure to meet you. Paulie has told me about you.” Lily shook hands with the woman’s hand, liking her directness. “Let’s go into the sitting room and get acquainted while Paulie puts my things into the back bedroom. Celia smiled at her grandson as he said, “Yes, ma’am, will do,” smiling back at her. Robert and Lily followed Celia into the small, sunny sitting room, as Paul went out to his car to get the remainder of his grandmother’s suitcases and boxes of belongings she’d had with her at the nursing home. Celia had asked Lily to tell her about herself, and Lily had nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am, I will. But I wonder if we might wait until your grandson can join us. I think all three of you need to hear about me.” Celia had given her a quizzical look but had said, “Of course, my dear. He’ll be here in just a few minutes. How do you like my home?” Celia had asked the question with a smile. “It’s beautiful,” Lily had answered. “I’ve so enjoyed working here, with all your lovely things.” The two women chatted about the history of the house for the next few minutes. Lily found herself really liking this woman, more than she’d expected. Celia was bright and energetic and seemed much younger than 70. “This house had been in my husband’s family for years. He grew up here and brought me here when we were married. At first, his mother lived here with us. I have to be honest and say that was a difficult adjustment for me. She was a lovely woman and she treated me like her own daughter but it was hard to live in another woman’s house. After about a year, she became ill and only lived another six months. My husband Ralph and I took care of her, we insisted on it. When she died, I felt as though I’d lost my own mother. As she lay there, close to death, she held my hand and told me she felt she was leaving her beloved home in good hands, that she knew I loved it. That was the greatest gift she could have given me.” As Mrs. Long talked, Lily began to think she’d like being her housekeeper. But it was very possible that they would rescind the job offer when they heard about her past. Finally, Paul joined Celia, Robert and Lily in the sitting room. Once they were all seated, Lily had told them the facts of why she was in Rivermont. _____________________________ Lily put her thoughts of the past away, and was glad to finally arrive at Barnes. She found a close parking space in the nearly deserted ground level section of the parking garage. Evidently, the lateness of the hour and the fact that it was the night before Thanksgiving meant that there weren't many hospital visitors. She grabbed her handbag and got out of the Escape, using her key fob to lock the door. She noticed that the floor of the garage with slightly slick with ice and walked slowly and carefully through the covered walkway and into the main lobby of the hospital. At the reception desk, she asked the security guard on duty if she would please call Ruth Washington to let her know that Lily Bannister was here to see her. The guard smiled and said, "Sure, ma'am. Is Ms. Washington expecting you? It's rather late on the evening before a holiday, and I don't know if she's here." "Yes, she'll be here. She called me last night to set up this appointment," Lily said with an answering smile. The guard turned to her computer and clicked a few keys, then picked up the receiver of her desktop phone and punched in several numbers. Evidently, the phone rang and rang with no answer. The guard hung up and tried again, saying to Lily, "Maybe I put in the wrong numbers." This time, the phone was evidently answered on the first ring, because the guard said, "Ms. Washington? This is the lobby guard. There's someone here to see you." The guard listened for a moment, then said, "Yes, she said her name is Lily Bannister." The guard listened again, then said good-bye and hung up the receiver. She looked up at Lily and said with another smile, "Ms. Washington said she'll be right down to get you." Lily stood there by the guard's desk, looking around the lobby. She felt disoriented, not like herself at all. She was blocking from her mind the fact that her only granddaughter, her only living relative was somewhere in the this huge hospital complex. She hadn't seen McKenna for 20 years, when she was a 10-year-old girl. Lily shivered, then shook her head to try to dispel the memories, the pain. The guard cleared her throat and said, "Ma'am, are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?" Slowly, Lily turned back toward the guard and looked at her questioningly, saying, "I'm sorry, did you say something to me?" "Yes, ma'am. I asked if you were okay, if there was anything I could do for you." Lily shook her head slowly and said, "I'm fine, I think." Then, as if she'd just heard what she said, she gave the guard a small smile and said, "That sounds ridiculous, I know." "Ma'am, why don't you have a seat over there on the couch? You look rather pale and shaky. I'll send Ms. Washington over there when she gets down here." The guard stood and walked around to the front of the desk where Lily stood. She held out an arm to Lily and said, "Here, take my arm and I'll help you over there to sit down." Lily felt the sting of tears in her eyes at the woman's kindness. She took the guard's arm and walked with her across the marble-floored lobby to a large seating area on the far side of the lobby. Lily sat on the nearest couch and looked up at the guard, saying "Thank you so much for your concern. I appreciate it and it was a good idea to come sit down. I'm not quite feeling like myself." The guard reached down and patted Lily's shoulder. "That's what I thought. Now, you just sit here and rest. As soon as Ms. Washington gets here, I'll send her over." The guard walked back to the reception desk and sat down again. She smiled and waved at Lily, then turned to help someone who'd just walked up to the desk. Lily leaned back, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She was feeling a bit light-headed. She'd hadn't had much to eat or drink that day; she'd been so busy feeding the people in the homeless shelter and she'd forgotten to eat herself. She wished this woman would come down here to get here. She wanted to get this whole thing over and done with. She would explain to the social worker that she was no longer in touch with her family and that there wasn't anything she could do for McKenna. Lily hated the idea of having to share her private business with a stranger but there seemed to be no other way to get herself out of this situation. She wondered how much she would be forced to tell Ms. Washington. She wanted to tell her as little as possible and hoped she would be able to do that. She heard a tapping noise and looked up to see the guard walking toward her, accompanying a tall, strinkingly beautiful black woman who was tapping a white cane in front of her. When the guard and the black woman stopped in front on Lily, she realized this must be Ruth Washington. Lily stood up and started to extend her hand to the woman, then stopped. The guard said, "Ma'am, this is Ruth Washington. Ms. Washington, this is your guest, Ms. Bannister." Ruth Washington extended her hand as she said, "Thank you for coming, Mrs. Bannister. I appreciate your time." Lily reached out and shook the woman's hand, noticing that she had a firm grip and her hand was warm in Lily's cold hand. Ruth Washington turned to the guard and said, "Thanks for your help, Jane. I can handle it now." The guard said, "Happy to help, Ms. Washington," and walked away, back toward the main reception desk. Ruth smiled at Lily and said, "The elevators are over this way, if you'll just follow me." She turned around and began tapping her cane in the direction of the wide back of elevators at one side of the lobby. Lily followed closely behind, amazed at the woman's ability to head toward the elevators. Lily had never known anyone who was blind, had never even been around a blind person before. Her fascination with the woman's condition took her mind off the predicament she found herself in, at least for a few minutes. At the bank of elevators, Ruth moved her fingers lightly on the wall to find the up button. Lily was tempted to help but stopped herself, not wanting to offend the woman. One of the elevators dinged and Ruth turned to Lily and said, "If you would be so kind as to lead me to the open elevator...it makes it so much easier." Lily said, "Of course," and gently took the woman's arm and led her in the direction of the last elevator. Inside, Ruth said, "If you could press the button for 3?" Lily pressed the button and the elevator doors whooshed shut. Ruth turned toward Lily and said, "I can do those things myself when I need to, when I'm alone. But when someone is with me, it's much more efficient to ask for help." Lily said, "I see." She pondered Ruth's words, wondering if there was some kind of hidden meaning behind them or they were just what they sounded like. They reached the third floor, and the elevator doors opened. Lily reached out a hand to hold the door open and said, "You first." Ruth left the elevator and turned to her left. Lily followed behind, and Ruth said, "My office is down here, at the end of the hall, just next to the atrium. I'm told I have a beautiful view from the glass wall in my office, which overlooks the atrium. A view, obviously, that's wasted on me." She chuckled, then continued, "That's facilities for you. You'd think they'd realize the view would be much more appreciated by a sighted staff member." Lily gave a murmur of amusement, starting to like this unusual woman, something she hadn't expected to do. Ruth stopped at the end of the hall and turned toward a door marked 305 Ruth Washington. Lily wondered if the woman had been counting her steps, because she seemed to know exactly when to stop walking and when to turn. Ruth reached in her jacket pocket and pulled out what Lily supposed was an employee security badge. Unhesitatingly, Ruth ran the car through a reader by the doorknob. Once again Lily was surprised at how well this Ruth Washington managed. The security reader on the door beeped and Ruth turned the doorknob and opened the door, stepping inside and holding the door open for Lily. Lily entered the office and stumbled a bit in the pitch blackness of the room. Ruth evidently realized what had happened because she flipped on the light switch and said a soft, "Sorry." Lily gasped at the view that greeted her. Across the room, one wall was all glass. It overlooked the hospital atrium, and provided an awesome view of the lighted infrastructure of the atrium ceiling. Thousands of tiny white lights sparkled throughout the metal rafters and support beams, almost taking Lily's breath away. "Well, Ms. Washington, I see what you mean. The view in your office is absolutely breathtaking," Lily said. "So I'm told, so I'm told," Ruth Washington responded softly. Then she cleared her throat and said briskly, "Let's have a seat on these love seats over in the corner." Lily turned in the direction Ruth Washington was pointing and headed toward a grouping of two love seats, a coffee table and an end table. She took a seat on the far love seat and said to Ruth, "I'm sitting on the far love seat." Surprise in her voice, Ruth said, "Thank you. It's most thoughtful of you to tell me. Most folks don't think to do that." She tapped her way over to the closer love seat and gracefully sat down. "Now, Ms. Bannister, let's talk about your granddaughter." Lily felt a twinge in her heart at the word granddaughter but stayed silent. Ruth continued, "As I told you on the telephone, Ms. Mattingly was in a serious automobile accident. We were unable to find any next of kin. There were no emergency contacts in her wallet and the hospital was forced to get an emergency court order allowing us to treat her. Also, as I told you, there was a time when the doctors weren't sure she would make it. But thankfully she did pull through and is physically on her way to recovery. However, it's her mental state that now has us concerned. She was able to give us your name as next of kin but had no address or phone number for you. Thank heavens, we were able to locate you." Ruth paused, then asked, in the face of Lily's continued silence, "Ms Bannister, do you have any questions? Do you understand everything that I'm saying?" Lily responded immediately and somewhat sharply, "Of course, I understand what you're saying. I may be 70 years old but I certainly still have all my faculties intact, including excellent hearing and a fine mind." Ruth Washington chuckled, "My apologies. Of course. You just weren't saying anything in response to what I was telling you so I didn't know what to think." Lily felt a twinge of regret at her sharpness but didn't reply. Ruth waited a moment, as if expecting Lily to say something. Then Ruth continued, "Ms. Bannister, I'm going to have to share some information with you that might seem confidential but it's necessary because of Ms. Mattingly's impaired mental condition." Lily took a deep breath, trying to calm her thudding heart, afraid of what she was about to hear. Ruth said softly, "The doctors are of the opinion that your granddaughter is an alcoholic. Or at the very least, she has a serious drinking problem." For a moment, Lily couldn't catch her breath. This was not at all what she'd expected to hear from Ruth Washington. She wasn't sure what it was that she'd expected, but it certainly wasn't this. Ruth waited Lily to say something, but once again Lily was silent. This time, Ruth was astute enough not to make a remark about Lily's hearing or understanding. Evidently not talking or responding was Lily's reaction to things. "I'm afraid there's more bad news, and this may be the worst of all. The police have determined that the accident that Ms. Mattingly had was her fault, and she was driving while intoxicated. Fortunately, it was a one-car accident. Ms. Mattingly hit a concrete bridge abutment on Highway 40, and she was the only one in her car at the time. Unfortunately, the accident occurred in a restricted construction zone and Ms. Mattingly was traveling at 30 miles over the posted speed limit." Ruth paused, and this time Lily responded. "Was McKenna arrested?" "Yes, she was arrested but hasn't been able to appear in court yet because of her condition. When she's discharged from the hospital, she'll be arraigned and will probably have to post bail." Again, Ruth was silent and so was Lily. Finally, Ruth said, "Ms. Bannister, here's what I going to recommend to you. I would like you to talk with your granddaughter this evening. Then I'd like you to consider whether you'll be able to assist her in her upcoming legal problems. And will you be able to arrange for some kind of custodial care or help for her?" Lily said softly, "I don't know how to answer your questions." She paused, then continued in the same soft voice. "I'm going to have to give you some personal information that I'd really rather not share but I have no choice." Lily halted, trying to get up her courage, trying to decide how to tell Ruth Washington what she had to tell her. She intended to tell the woman as little as possible but wasn't sure what that was. "Ms. Bannister, anything and everything you tell me will be kept in the strictest confidence. That's part of my role here at the hospital. I serve as a liaison and spokesperson between patients and family and friends. I certainly won't divulge anything you tell me. I was concerned about sharing the information about McKenna with you but she did list you as next of kin. So I had to proceed on the assumption that she would consider it appropriate that you would be privy to her personal information." Ruth paused then continued. "I know this is difficult for you and it's probably even more difficult than I can imagine. Is there anything I can do or say to put your mind at ease?" she paused again, waiting for Lily's response. She was finding Lily's silence and non-responsiveness unnerving and almost annoying but tried to hide her feelings. She decided she would just outwait Lily and not say anything until Lily did. For a few moments, a heavy silence hung over the room. Then Lily sighed, smiled and said, "All right, Ms. Washington, you win. I assume you're prepared to outwait me." Lily smiled again when she heard Ruth's chuckle and noncommittal murmur. Lily began to speak slowly and tentatively, her reluctance obvious in her tone of voice. "I haven't been in touch with anyone in my family in 20 years. I haven't seen or talked with my granddaughter for 20 years, not since she was 10 years old." Ruth waited for Lily to provide some explanation or additional information but when none was forthcoming, she plunged in with, "My apologies for the intrusiveness of my question but why not?" "That's a question I'd rather not answer," Lily said in her soft voice. Frustrated, Ruth sighed, then asked the question uppermost in her mind and of most importance to the current situation. "So will you be able to help Ms. Mattingly?" Again, it was a few moments before Lily answered. "I don't know," she said slowly. "I would have to take this one step at a time. And I suppose the first step is for me to see McKenna." "Yes, that would be the first step," Ruth agreed. "I talked with her earlier today and told her about our phone conversation last night and that you were planning to come see me this evening. She had no reaction to that information, which shouldn't have surprised me given her basically unresponsive emotional state but it did." Ruth smiled and Lily wondered what the woman could possibly find amusing in this grave situation. "I'm assuming you just saw the smile on my face?" Ruth asked. "Yes," Lily responded, immediately for a change, wondering how the woman had known, then realizing she must have somehow indicated her reaction, a sigh or a murmur or something. "The smile was because I seem to be having the same difficulty I have with McKenna with you also - a general and pervasive non-responsiveness on both your parts." To the surprise of both of them, Lily laughed out loud at Ruth's statement. "I'm sorry," Lily said ruefully. "I'm not normally a rude person. But you have no idea how unnerving and difficult this situation is for me - no idea at all." Ruth made no response to this. She was sure she did have a very good idea how difficult this was for Lily but didn't want to annoy the woman with the presumptuous comment that she did indeed understand the difficulty. Lily stood up and began to pace around the office. Ruth heard the movement and the sound of footsteps on the vinyl floor and realized what she was doing but didn't comment or react. Some people thought better when their legs were in motion. She sat there, hands folded calmly in her lap waiting for Lily Bannister to say what she had to say. _________________ Fifteen minutes later, Ruth Washington accompanied Lily Bannister out of her office, to the elevator and up to the 13th floor. They rode the elevator in silence, each woman lost in her own thoughts. Lily had noticed a wedding band and diamond engagement rink on Ruth's left hand and wondered about the difficulties a blind person would have in marriage. She let her writer's imagination play out various scenarios about what kind of man Ruth would be married to and what he did for a living and whether they had children. She could see how challenging Ruth's life must be. Lily was often amazed at the difficulties that people were able to surmount what monumental troubles they could overcome. She was an example of that, albeit a small one. She seldom if ever gave herself any credit for having moved beyond the mess she'd made of her life. Best not to think about it whenever and however possible. The elevator finally arrived at the 13th floor. Ruth and Lily were the only remaining passengers. The elevator had stopped at every floor but one during its ascent. Lily had observed the other passengers as they entered and departed, making up brief life stories for each. Her favorite had been a bearded stout gentleman who could have passed for Santa if he'd been dressed in a red velvet suit. He's smiled the whole elevator ride and had said a cheery good-bye to Ruth and Lily when he got off at the 12th floor. Lily thought she would enjoy spending hours riding elevators and watching people. As she and Ruth got off the elevator, she felt an empathy for Ruth, for Ruth's inability to watch people, to observe the things they did, to see their faces when they spoke to her Lily couldn't imagine a life without sight. The thought flashed through her mind that she might not even want a life without sight but she quickly dismissed it. Ruth led the way down the hall, tapping her white cane past several closed hospital doors. She then paused and turned to Lily and said, "It's room 1305 on the left so if you could find the door?" "It's just here," Lily said, and put her hand on Ruth's arm to guide her through the door. As she entered the room, Lily's heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure Ruth could hear it. The hospital room was dimly lit and quiet. Both of the hospital beds had the curtains pulled all the way around them. Ruth said, "Your granddaughter is in the bed by the window." They walked over to stand by the window bed, and Ruth said softly, "Ms. Mattingly? Your grandmother is here to see you." Ruth reached out and waved her hand till she could grab hold of the curtain to pull it partially back from McKenna's bed. As Lily looked at her granddaughter, she thought her heart would burst out of her chest. She didn't find anything familiar about the woman lying so rigid and unmoving in the bed. She took a step forward, then another one. The woman was lying with her eyes closed, her body still. Lily could barely see the rise and fall of her chest. Ruth spoke again, saying, "McKenna, are you awake? Your grandmother is here." The woman slowly opened her eyes. She looked first at Ruth, then at Lily. She stared at her grandmother for a long time, then shut her eyes again. As Lily looked at her granddaughter, she could see nothing familiar about her. Because McKenna's head was wrapped in white bandages, Lily couldn't tell what color hair she had. The last time Lily had seen McKenna, her hair had been a light blond, worn long and straight. She'd been a pretty girl, with delicate features and a sunny smile. Now, her face was scraped and bruised and bore no resemblance to anyone in the family. "Hello, McKenna," Lily said softly but got no response. Ruth put her hand on Lily's arm and asked in a whisper, "Would you like me to leave the two of you alone?" "Oh, please don't leave," had been Lily's immediate reply. "All right," Ruth whispered back. There were two straight back chairs by the side of McKenna's bed and Lily said to Ruth, "Let's sit down," and gently guided Ruth to one of the chairs, then sat in the other. For a few moments, Lily and Ruth sat in silence. Lily was thinking that her granddaughter was a complete stranger to her. There was nothing remaining of the laughing, fun-loving girl Lily remembered. Ruth cleared her throat and said, "McKenna, is there anything we can get you? A drink of water, a snack?" Again, McKenna said nothing. Lily sighed and said, "McKenna, Ms. Washington has asked me if I could take care of you, if I would be responsible for you. But I don't think I can do that if you don't agree to it." As she spoke the words, Lily was surprised to realize that she had decided to do what she could to help McKenna. She hadn't expected that. Ruth said, "McKenna, you and I have discussed this. You have only two options. One is for you to agree to being in your grandmother's care. The other is for you to be admitted to a mental health nursing facility. It's now your choice to decide which option you want." McKenna opened her eyes, and Lily saw her own brilliant green eyes looking back at her, the first sign of anything familiar in the woman. "I don't want to go to a mental facility." The words were spoken softly but firmly and were directed at Ruth Washington, not her grandmother.. Since Ruth's phone call the night before, Lily had refused to think about her granddaughter, had refused to remember the time they'd spent together, how much Lily had loved the girl. Now, sitting here, looking at the woman her granddaughter had grown into, Lily once again steeled herself against her memories. "All right," Ruth said, "That's a start." She turned toward Lily and said, "The doctors say McKenna will be able to leave in a couple of days. They want to run a couple of tests to make sure there's no residual damage from her head injuries. And they want to remove the bandages from her head. I'll call you when they set a discharge date. We'll have to arrange for someone to pick up her clothes and things. I have an assistant who can do that for us." Ruth hesitated, cleared her throat, then continued. "Ms. Bannister, you'll have to speak with someone from the prosecutor's office about the charges against McKenna. I'll get a name and phone number for you. I'm assuming that McKenna is going to need a lawyer." Lily glanced over at McKenna to see how she had reacted to Ruth's words, but McKenna had once again closed her eyes and seemingly closed them out again. This was not going to be easy, Lily thought, wondering what she was getting herself into. Leaving McKenna's room had been awkward. Lily didn't know how to treat her granddaughter. McKenna was now a stranger to her. Ruth Washington had accompanied Lily down to the lobby, and they'd stood by the entrance doors talking for a few minutes. "I'm sorry your granddaughter wasn't more responsive, Ms. Bannister. That's how it's been since she awoke from her coma. It's been a struggle to get her to say anything. And she's had no visitors. She refused to give us anyone's name but yours, and we almost had to threaten her to get that out of her." Lily nodded and said, "Something is going on with that girl." "Yes,' Ruth agreed. "I'm assuming it's more than the accident and more than her arrest, although those are enough in themselves to send anyone off the deep end. Now, do you need me to get the name of a lawyer for you?" Lily hesitated, then said, "I have an attorney who might be able to help. Let me talk with him and see what he says. If that doesn't work, I'll take you up on your offer." "Thank you for coming," Ruth said. "It was a pleasure to meet you. And thank you for your openness and forthrightness in explaining your family situation. I understand your hesitation in getting involved, and I appreciate your willingness to help McKenna. Despite her seeming lack of cooperation, I've become attached to her. Unfortunately, I always have a tendency to get attached and that's not a good thing in my line of work." Lily had chuckled at that, saying, "No, I wouldn't think so." She reached out and laid her hand gently on Ruth's forearm. "I want to thank you for what you're doing for McKenna. And I want to thank you for managing to get me to agree to come here and to help McKenna. You have an amazing power of persuasion. I can't say that I was eager to do this but it's as though there was no way I could refuse you." This time, it was Ruth's turn to laugh. "I'll take that as a compliment, I think." As Lily said goodbye to Ruth, she realized that she'd started liking this woman. Ruth had done her best to ease the difficult encounter with McKenna and Lily appreciated that. Lily headed toward the massive glass door entrance, then turned around and came back over to where Ruth stood. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything about the lawyer," Lily said. "I hope you know how grateful I am to you." Ruth reached out a hand to Lily and Lily took the hand in both of hers and squeezed. "Again, thank you," Lily said and headed toward the glass doors again. She turned back to see Ruth tapping her way over to the reception desk to stop to talk with the guard. A few minutes later, Lily was in her car on her way back to Rivermont. She debated with herself whether to call Paul from her phone or wait till she got home or until tomorrow morning. The clock on the dashboard said it was just past 10 p.m. When Paul had called her earlier, he had said he was going to visit his grandmother at the nursing home. She wondered if he was still there or on his way home. She touched the call button on the Escape's steering wheel and said, "Call Paul." The phone began to ring almost instantly. She loved this feature of the car. It had taken some struggles and finally a visit to the ford dealership before she was finally able to activate her phone, but it was well worth the time and effort it had taken. Plus, this whole hands-free thing was much safer. At least Paul had the sense to either not talk much on the phone while he was driving or to put the phone down when he was making a turn or some other tricky maneuver. "Yo!" came Paul's cheery greeting. "Where are you and what are you doing?" Lily frowned as she said, "You know how I hate it when you say that. It sounds so intrusive." "Sorry , ma'am, I keep forgetting. Anyway, what can I do for you, milady, at this late hour?' Lily laughed and said, "Well, now I'm going to break my own rule and say 'Where are you and what are you doing?'' She enjoyed Paul's answering hoot of laughter. When he finally stopped laughing, he said, "Why do you ask?" "Well, you know how I wouldn't tell you where I was going this evening? I'm ready to do that now, because I need your help. And it's a really fascinating situation, so I promise that you'll be interested and entertained." Paul laughed again and said, "And of course, it's all about entertaining Paul." "You bet!" was Lily's quick response. Then she said, "So answer my question. Where are you and what are you doing?" "I just left the nursing home, and I'm on my way home." "Okay, I'm about half an hour from home. Could you pretty please meet me there? I'll make it worth your while. I haven't had much to eat all day, and I have lots of goodies for us to choose from." "An offer I can't refuse," Paul answered, then added, "Is there anything you need me to pick up?" "No, I'm good," Lily said, then changed her mind. "could you stop at that all night coffee shop by my house and get a decaf French Vanilla latte. I have a craving." "Sure, whatever your heart desires. See you in a bit." Paul hung up and Lily said "End call" and the Escape disconnected her phone. It was almost 11 p.m. when Lily finally arrived home. There'd been an accident on highway 55 and the traffic back-up had caused a delay. Paul's car was in the driveway and the porch light and garage lights were on. Lily opened the garage with the automatic opener and pulled the Escape into one of the two spaces. She kept the garage neat and uncluttered, as she did the rest of her house. Paul sometimes teased her, saying she was obsessive about eliminating clutter. Lily ignored his jabs, satisfied that she was just a neat person and not a compulsive one. Paul was in the kitchen and so was Kitty. Paul wasn't a cat person and so usually Kitty made it a point to hang around him when he came to visit. He said hello to Lily then turned to the microwave to warm up her latte. When the timer dinged, she came over and took it out of the microwave, taking a sip and saying "Mmmm." "Thank you so much for getting this," she said. "Now, you go sit at the dining room table and let me bring in some snacks for us to have while I talk to you." Ten minutes later, Lily and Paul were seated across from one another in the small dining room of her house. The table had once belonged to Celia and was an antique cherry wood with matching chairs. When Celia decided, at age 90, that it was time to think about assisted living, she'd offered her furniture to Lily. Most of the pieces were too large for Lily's rooms but this particular table and chairs had fit the space perfectly. Lily had recovered the chair seats with an upholstery fabric that blended well with the carpet. Paul patted the table and said, "I'm so glad you were able to make good use of Gran's table." He bit into a cheese cracker and chewed for a moment before saying, "Okay, now that you've got me here, what's going on? What is it you need to talk with me about?" "Well," Lily began slowly, "it's about my granddaughter." Paul looked at her in surprise and said, "You've never mentioned a granddaughter before." "She was Jamie's sister," Lily said quietly, head down. "Oh," was all that Paul said. Lily proceeded to tell him the story of Ruth Washington's phone call the night before on Thanksgiving Eve and then how she'd gone to Barnes tonight to see her granddaughter McKenna. "McKenna? That's a really cool name," Paul said. "Yes, it is, isn't it? It's an old family name." Lily picked up one of the pumpkin spice cookies that she'd baked a couple of days ago and took a bite and then another. Impatiently, Paul said, "Well, what's the rest of the story? The social worker calls, tells you your granddaughter's been in a serious automobile accident. You go to see her. And?" Lily swallowed the bite of cookie in her mouth and started to take another bite but Paul took the cookie out of her hand and glared at her. "Enough with the mystery!" His tone was emphatic. "It's time to tell me what's going on. No more procrastination." Lily gave Paul a quizzical look, then said, "You know, that's exactly what I'm doing, procrastinating. And it's because I need to ask a favor of you and I feel guilty about imposing on you." Paul shook his head and said, " I can't believe you said that. There's nothing you could do that I would consider imposing. Don't you know that I consider you one of my closest friends? Now, please, friend to friend, tell me what's going on." For the next half an hour, Lily told him the details of her visit to McKenna and as much as she knew about McKenna's legal problems. Paul was quiet, silently absorbing what Lily was saying. "So that's the story," Lily concluded. "It's not a very pretty one. And I have no idea how serious the charges are against her or what's going to happen." "And you haven't seen or spoken to her for 20 years?" Paul asked. "No." was Lily's answer. "What was your impression of her mental state? Will she even allow you to help her?" "I have no idea. I don't think she said a word to me. Ruth Washington is going to get back in touch with me when McKenna is ready for discharge from the hospital." Lily paused, then continued. "You know, I think I'm going to visit McKenna again tomorrow. She's my granddaughter and she's the only family, I've got. And I tink I may be the only family she has. All these years, I thought my family was gone forever and now here's McKenna. Perhaps there's a chance ..." Lily let the sentence trail off without finishing it. "So the favor you want to ask me is?" Paul asked. "I would think that's obvious," Lily responded with a faint smile on her lips. "McKenna needs an attorney. You're an attorney. Ergo..." "Ergo, indeed," Paul said. "Paul, about tomorrow. Do you think you would have time to come with me to St. Louis to see McKenna?" Paul hesitated, then said, "Of course. I'll make time. The office is closed tomorrow, anyway, for the day after Thanksgiving. I didn't have any plans except to go see Gran tomorrow evening. Maybe you could come with me then?" "Yes, definitely. I haven't seen Celia since last Sunday. And you know how I get if I don't get my regular infusions of Celia." She gave Paul a wide smile, then finished the pumpkin spice cookie. Paul reached out and picked up a cookie from the plate between them. "Mmm, these look good." He took a bite, then another. He chewed for a few moments, swallowed and said hesitantly, "Let me ask you a question about McKenna. Do you know if she's an alcoholic?" "Why would you ask that?" Lily said, a note of defensiveness sounding in her voice. Paul just looked at her and she said, "Oh," but left it at that. After a few moments, she continued. "Ruth said they were charging McKenna with a DWI. She didn't say anything about McKenna being a chronic drinker or an --" Lily paused, then continued, "an alcoholic. I guess Ruth wouldn't really know anything about that. And I just didn't think about it." "Well, we'll see," was Paul's response. He stood up, came around the table and patted Lily on the top of her head. "I'll call you in the morning to see what time you want to leave. And I'm driving." "But I like to drive," Lily protested. "No, I'm driving," were Paul's parting words as he shut the front door behind him. Lily smiled at Paul's insistence on driving. He regularly told her she poked along in the slow lane, and that it drove him crazy Lily cleared the dining room table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. She checked to make sure Kitty had plenty of water and food, then decided to give her a treat. She took a can of tuna from the pantry and ran it through the electric can opener. As usual, the sound of the can opener brought Kitty racing into the kitchen. Lily set the plate down on the floor of the laundry room, next to Kitty's food bowl. She walked through the house, turning off lights, straightening up and putting things away. It was late, getting close to midnight but she didn't feel the least bit sleepy, despite the long, emotion-laden day it had been for her. A few minutes later, she'd changed into pajamas, washed her face and brushed her teeth. But rather than climbing into bed, she went into her office and sat down at her laptop and began surfing the net. She typed McKenna Mattingly's name into Google and was amazed at the number of results she got back. She sat there scrolling through the list, clicking on links at random, taken aback to see that McKenna had followed her same career path. When Lily left her life in St. Louis, she also left behind her public relations career and eventually had found a new interest. Her last few years in St. Louis she'd been assigned responsibility for the firm's computer systems in addition to her PR account work. She'd become fascinated with the technology and its possibilities. At that time, the Internet had been in its first, crude beginnings. The concept of a completely interconnected world had fascinated her, and after leaving St. Louis, she'd kept up with the technology. Her first few years in Rivermont, she'd worked for a house cleaning service during the day, and took Web programming and design classes at night at the Rivermont Community College. Her first Web site had been for the cleaning service, which she'd done as a learning exercise. The owner of the company had been so impressed with her work on the site that he'd wanted to create an office job for her. She didn't think she'd ever be able to work in an office again and had politely but firmly turned down the offer. She'd agreed to continue to work on the site in her spare time. She also taught the owner's secretary the simple basics of updating the company's site. As her skills grew, she realized she had a passion for Web design. Her employer referred several of his friends who needed business sites to her and before she knew it, she had a small but thriving free-lance Web design business. She gave up all her cleaning jobs except for Celia's house. For a few years, she was Celia's housekeeper, something she could do in addition to her Web design work. There had come a day when Celia told her she was firing her because it was ridiculous for her to waste her talents on being a housekeeper. Lily had protested that it wasn't a waste, that she enjoyed keeping Celia's life and home in order. But Celia had been adamant that Lily had to stop being her housekeeper. "But you'll always be my friend, dear Lily," Celia had told her. "And you may continue to live here for as long as you want. But I honestly think it would be a productive thing for you to have a place of your own, something that's all yours." Lily had protested that she loved living with Celia, loved being her housekeeper and friend. And she'd continued to live with Celia for another year before finding a place of her own, the rundown ruin that was now this wonderful home she'd created. And Celia had been right. It had been a life-enhancing experience for her to be on her own, to buy the cottage and renovate it. Lily had helped Celia find another housekeeper and that had turned out well. Mrs. Mason had faithfully served Celia until last year when Celia had moved into the assisted living facility. Now, as Lily scrolled through the web articles about McKenna, she kept her emotions firmly in check. She'd long ago stopped letting herself mourn the loss of her family. It was what it was. Her responsibility was to make the most of what she had. But nonetheless, she couldn't help wanting to reach out to her granddaughter, to do whatever she could for her. Unfortunately, from what she'd seen that evening, it didn't appear that McKenna wanted or would welcome her help. Lily closed the browser window on the search results on McKenna's name. She was about to put the laptop in hibernation mode and go to bed, when she decided to check her e-mail. She was surprised to see a message from Paul. She opened the e-mail and skimmed it quickly, then went back to read it slowly and carefully. Evidently, Paul had gone online when he got home and logged into CaseNet, the website that tracked police and court cases in the St. Louis metropolitan area. He'd found McKenna's case, and indeed she had been charged with driving while intoxicated. The charges were pending, dependent on her discharge from the hospital. Two hours after her one-car accident, her blood alcohol had been more than twice the legal limit. Paul's message had been straightforward and to the point. His advice to McKenna would be to plead guilty and hope for probation. Lily sat there staring at the screen of the laptop, knowing that she agreed with Paul. She wondered what McKenna's reaction would be to Paul's advice. It felt devastating to know nothing of her granddaughter, to have no clue as to her thoughts or her personality or the details of her life. Lily quickly typed a brief reply to Paul's message, saying that she agreed with his assessment and advice but wondered whether McKenna would go along with his recommendation. She put the laptop in hibernation, turned out her desk lamp and went into her bedroom. Kitty was curled up in tight black ball in her regular place, the center of the king-sized bed. Lily smiled, thinking about how she was always careful to not disturb Kitty when she crawled under the covers. As Lily laid her head down on the pillow, she wondered if she'd ever fall asleep. She still felt so wired from the day's events. But moments later, she fell in to a deep and dream-filled sleep. The next morning, Paul called on her cell a little after 9. "Rise and shine, buttercup," he chirped in a ridiculously chipper voice. "I've been up for hours," Lily said indignantly, fudging a bit on full disclosure. Actually, she'd only been up for an hour but in that time had showered, eaten breakfast, dressed, put on her make-up and read most of the morning newspaper. Paul said a disbelieving, "Sure you have. So if I pick you up in say 15 minutes, you'd be ready?" "Yep," Lily responded. "I'm ready right now. I've just been waiting to hear from you." "I'll be there in half an hour," Paul said. "What happened to 15 minutes?:" Lily asked. "Well, I have to run an errand first. See you soon." With that, he broke the connection and Lily was left holding a silent phone in her hand. She'd been rinsing her breakfast dishes when Paul called, and now she finished that up, then went into her office and sat down at her desk. On a yellow legal pad, she wrote a list of things to do that day, the foremost one being her and Paul's visit to McKenna. Lily hoped to be able to convince McKenna to let Paul handle her legal needs. Lily was convinced that dealing with McKenna was not going to be easy. She had a strong feeling that McKenna wasn't going to agree with Paul's advice to plead guilty. Lily sat there pondering what she was going to say to McKenna a few hours from now. During the night, Lily had come to grips with the problem and had decided she was going to insist that McKenna come to stay with her for awhile, till she got back on her feet, so to speak, and things were back to normal. It continued to bother Lily that her granddaughter, her closest living relative, perhaps her only close living relative, was a stranger to her. More than a stranger, actually. From what Lily had seen of McKenna in the hospital, she had gotten the definite impression that McKenna was going to be more than a little antagonistic toward her. Lily trusted Paul, trusted his good judgment and level-headedness. What she didn't trust was his ability to dig beneath McKenna's crusty outer facade to the frightened girl lurking there. Lily made some more notes on the legal pad, trying to think how she could convince McKenna to come home with her. Lily began to realize that she really wanted the girl, no woman actually, McKenna was 30, to come stay here for awhile. For these past 20 years, Lily had made a concerted effort to serve others. Now she knew that she'd done that as a substitute for loving and nurturing the family she'd lost. This was her opportunity, probably her last opportunity to have a family again. Surely, after 20 years, she'd paid her debt, suffered her punishment. But the thought haunted her that there were some debts that couldn't be paid, some sins for which there were no reparations. An hour later, Paul and Lily were on their way to St. Louis. It had taken Paul longer to come by than Lily had expected but despite her probing, she was unable to get him to tell her what his errand had been. They listened to a local jazz station as Paul drove. His vehicle wasn't what you 'd expect of a 40-year-old, mostly successful attorney. He drove his grandmother's former vehicle, the latest of Celia's little Ford Ranger pick-ups. Celia had been driving Rangers since before Lily met her. She bought a new one every few years, in a different color each time, but always the same make and model. Lily had once asked her why a Ranger but hadn't received a satisfactory answer. In fact, as she recalled, she hadn't received an answer at all. Celia had a delightful habit of ignoring questions she didn't want to answer. She would just grin and change the subject. Lily reached out and turned the volume down slightly on the radio so she could talk to Paul. He glanced over at her and said, "What?" "I need your advice." "On?" "What else? McKenna. I've decided she has to come and stay with me, and I need your advice on how to convince her to do that." Paul glanced over at her again and asked, "What makes you think she won't jump at the chance to do that?" "You didn't see how she behaved when I visited her at the hospital last night. I can't remember her saying one direct word to me. And the look on her face was pure hostility. I can only imagine what her mother and grandfather told her about me." Paul reached out a hand over the truck's center console and patted her on the arm but didn't say anything right away. "You know, we might be able to arrange something through the court. Have her released into your care on her own recognizance." "How would that work?" Lily asked. "You would appear at her hearing, and offer to supervise her release into your care. We could make a convincing argument that she's not fit to take care of herself. From what you told me, it sounds as though she's a bit wobbly mentally." Lily smiled at that description. She could always count on Paul to come up with an original way of describing something, even a mental condition. "Please don't be offended at what I'm about to ask but are you sure you're up to this? You've lived pretty much on your own for 20 years, and this would be quite a change. More than a change, actually. It would be a life revolution." "I've thought about that and no, I'm not offended. Haven't you seen that I don't really offend easily. I think I would relish the challenge. As I've been thinking about McKenna and having her come to stay, I realized I would welcome the challenge. My life has gotten too easy and way too bland." Paul was silent for a few moments, then spoke slowly and softly. "Lily, this time you definitely will be offended by what I say." Again, he was silent, trying to find the best words to use. "Okay, my dear friend, here goes. Lily, this can't be about you. It can't be about you wanting a challenge, a more difficult, less bland life." Lily felt a pang of shame and knew Paul was right. She hadn't gone the empathy route. She'd been thinking of herself and not of McKenna, no matter what she told herself. They rode along in silence for several minutes, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Finally, Paul cleared his throat and said, "I'm sorry, Lily, that was completely unacceptable of me." Lily reached out a hand to touch the young man's arm. "No, Paul, please don't apologize. You're right. I was only thinking only of myself, not of McKenna." Paul glanced over at Lily and saw a tear trickling down her cheek. She lifted a hand to brush it away, unaware of his scrutiny. At 70, he thought she was still an attractive woman, although she'd done her best to camouflage that attractiveness. She always pulled her white hair back into a severe twist, wore no make-up and dressed simply. He wondered what that was all about. From his experience, most women went the opposite direction, trying to enhance their attractiveness rather than trying to hide it. Lily turned to look out the woman and began to speak in a low voice that Paul could barely hear. "You know my story. You know what I did. What you may not know is what I've tried to do for these 20 years. I've tried to atone for what I did. I've tried to live my life as a good person, a giving person. I've volunteered my time, and given my money." She paused, then turned her head back around to look at Paul. Paul glanced over at her, and gave her a small, tentative smile but didn't say anything. "But after all this time, I think I've been fooling myself. All those things, I don't think they came from my heart. I think they came from my mind." "I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Paul said. Lily thought for a moment, searching for the words to describe what she was feeling. "I think I wanted to make up for what I had done, to absolve myself of guilt. I think I had the right intentions but I didn't know how to go about it the right way." There was a silence then Lily continued. "Before, before it happened, I was off track then. Way off track. And then when I came here to Rivermont, I thought I was getting on track. But I may have been fooling myself. Or I might not have gone as far as I thought I had, as I wanted to. You're so right, my dear young friend. How did you get so smart? Oh, that's right -- That wise woman Celia is your grandmother." Paul laughed out loud and shook his head at Lily's words. Once again, they rode along in silence, but this was a comfortable, companionable silence. Lily looked at her watch and saw it was almost 10. They were making good time. Before Paul arrived at her house this morning, she'd called Ruth Washington to tell the social worker that she and her attorney friend were coming to see McKenna this morning. "Would you like me to join you when you talk with her?" Ruth had offered. "I would really appreciate that, Ruth. Is it all right if I call you Ruth? You've been so kind that I feel as if we're more than acquaintances." "Of course, please call me Ruth," came the reply. Lily thought she could detect a smile in the woman's voice. "And you must call me Lily. I 'd like that." "Will do, Lily," Ruth said. "Ruth, I'm concerned about McKenna's mental state, especially her attitude toward me. I told you my background last night so you can understand why she would feel alienated from me. But I'm afraid she's going to need my help, no matter how she feels about me. That's why I'd like you there when my attorney friend and I talk with her. I'm sure she's going to refuse my help and I want you to help convince her to accept it." "I'll do my best, of course," Ruth agreed. "But I think you're right. McKenna seems to harbor a great deal of animosity and hostility toward you. I noticed that she didn't speak one word to you last night and never looked you in the eye. I also noticed that when you weren't looking at her, she would sneak glances at you. Not that she's been very forthcoming with me. I've had to struggle to get any information out of her. But at least she's not hostile toward me. A bit uncooperative, yes, but not hostile." Before hanging up, Lily had told Ruth she'd call when she and Paul arrived at Barnes and thanked her for what she was doing for McKenna. Now, riding along with Paul she realized she hadn't told him about her call to the social worker. "Hey, Paulie," she said. "Hey, yourself," he responded. "What's up?" "In all the hoohah, I forgot to tell you that before you got to my house, I called Ruth Washington to let her know we were coming this morning. I asked her if she could join us when we visited McKenna and she agreed. I'm supposed to call her when we get there." "Sounds good," Paul said, then continued, "You're worried about your granddaughter's attitude toward you, aren't you?" Lily hesitated a moment before answering, then said, "Yes, I'm worried. I'm afraid she's not going to want to have anything to do with me. And she needs my help. That much I know for sure." "Well, don't lose hope until you have to," Paul advised. "It's possible she's a practical, sensible woman who will realize the predicament she's in and take whatever help and support you offer." "Thanks, dear boy." Lily looked over at Paul and saw that he shaking his head and smiling. She thought he was such a handsome young man, although perhaps 40 was only young to someone who was 70. She'd watched him grow from a 20-year-old college student to a successful, well-respected attorney. He'd made partner at his firm after only 10 years there. But five years ago, he'd left the downtown law firm to go out on his own. That had worked out well for Paul, she knew, in terms of job satisfaction and personal happiness. He'd never be wealthy but he made a respectable living and enjoyed what he was doing. Celia had been extremely supportive of his new venture and had even invested in the business. Paul had used the money she invested to buy office furniture and to hire an administrative assistant. Celia and Lily both wished Paul had a special woman in his life but so far there wasn't anyone. After his first marriage had crashed and burned and had culminated in a vicious, take no prisoners divorce, Lily wondered if he'd ever venture down that path again. Celia had never cared for his wife, Patricia, no matter how hard she tried. Celia had hidden her dislike of Patricia from Paul, but not very successfully. Paul had championed Patricia to Celia but with no success. For awhile, this led to an almost-estrangement between grandmother and grandson. But before their troubles reached the point of a full estrangement, Patricia had filed for divorce. She'd hired a particularly savage divorce attorney, a woman who had a reputation as a ball breaker. Celia and Lily had each come to court as moral support for Paul. One of his friends from law school was acting as Paul's attorney, a move that Celia had been puzzled about. "Paulie, you're a fine attorney. Why would you hire someone to represent you? Why wouldn't you handle the case yourself? That would seem to make more sense to me." Paul had shaken his head at her question, then said, "Gran, haven't you heard the old saying that anyone who tries to represent himself in court has a fool for a client. I'm too close to this, too emotionally involved. I need an attorney who can keep a level head, who can provide good advice and guidance." At one point during the divorce proceedings, Patricia had tried to go after Celia's money, claiming that because Paul would eventually inherit her money, as her only living relative, she wanted her half now. That demand by her lawyer had sent the judge in a fit of laughter that he tried to cover up as a coughing spell. Despite Paul's lawyer's best attempts, Patricia had ended up with almost all of the marital assets. The negotiations, the long-drawn-out court proceedings, the yelling and screaming by both of them, had taken their toll on Paul. When the divorce was final, Paul took a leave of absence from the law firm and spent a month at a friend's farm in northern Missouri. During that time, neither Celia nor Lily heard from him, which was what he told them to expect. When he came back to Rivermont, his first order of business was to resign from the law firm. His next step was setting up his own office. At first, before Celia's investment in his business, he worked out of his home, a small two-bedroom house in a good neighborhood that had belonged to Celia and which she insisted he live in to watch over it. His business grew slowly but steadily. Now, at age 40, he had an office in downtown Rivermont, in a renovated loft. He now owned the building and lived in the penthouse loft. He had two other lawyers in the practice, a paralegal, an office manager and a secretary. He specialized in contract law and intellectual property, areas that had always interested him. He handled Lily's computer and book contracts. She insisted on paying his full rate no matter how much or how often he tried to discount his fees. "Paul, I'm making a great deal of money, and it's only fair that I pay the going rate for the services you provide." He'd acquiesced, understanding it was a matter of honor with Lily. Celia was the same way, making sure he charged her the appropriate amount for the work he did for her. When her husband Ralph died 30 years ago, Celia had set up a small charitable foundation into which she planned to funnel royalties from several patents Ralph held on electrical devices he'd developed. Over the years, the patents had become more valuable, more lucrative, and had endowed the foundation with a serious amount of money. Celia served on the board that determined the foundation's contributions, and she influenced the board to support the homeless shelter in Rivermont and funded a daycare center that provided free childcare to women at the poverty level. Paul was also on the board of the foundation and his particular interest was in funding a small organization that helped the unemployed receive training and job counseling. He'd cajoled Lily into donating her time to teaching a weekly class on computer basics to the job hunters. A couple of them had shown a real aptitude for computers, and the Paul had arranged for the foundation to provide the funds to put them through the computer courses at the community college. Lily had begun funneling more and more of her money into the foundation. Unbeknownst to Lily, Paul had noticed that she had undertaken a particularly interesting form of tithing: giving 90 percent away to various charitable organizations and keeping 10 percent for herself. Paul knew Lily could wll-afford her philanthropy. Ten years ago, she'd sold one of her endeavors, a customizable daily "e-zine" Paul had recommended a financial advisor he knew and trusted to help her invest the money she received for the sale. The investments had done well, even during the market downturn. Lily was now a moderately wealthy woman, albeit one who gave away most of the returns she made on her investments. Now, as they neared Barnes Hospital, Lily could feel herself begin to once again stress out about McKenna. She instinctively knew her granddaughter would not welcome her help, would most likely refuse her help. Chapter 3 Friday, November 26, 2010 McKenna Mattingly McKenna lay in the cement-hard hospital bed, eyes closed, fists clenched under the white thermal blanket she had pulled up to her chin. From where she lay, she could see the clock on the wall opposite her bed. The hands were moving much too fast toward 11 a.m. That ridiculous blind social worker, whatever her name was, had come to see her practically at the crack of dawn this morning to tell her that her grandmother would be here again today, and she was bringing a lawyer with her. They were expected around 11. McKenna gritted her teeth at the thought of seeing her grandmother again. Last night had been a torment, almost beyond bearing. The social worker had reiterated the precarious legal position McKenna was in. "Ms. Mattingly, I assure you, having your grandmother take responsibility for you is your best option." The social worker, what was her name? paused, then continued in an even more serious tone, if that was possible. "Actually, Ms. Mattingly, it's your only option. If you refuse to be released into your grandmother's care, I'm certain the police will incarcerate you." McKenna had flinched at the word "incarcerate." She hated when people used pretentious words. Why couldn't the woman just have said the police would put her in jail? That actually sounded much more fearsome than the ridiculous word "incarcerate." She knew she was mentally dancing around the issue, avoiding facing the facts of her situation. She was in serious trouble, no doubt about it. She'd known that for days now, even though her mind wasn't working well at all. The social worker, whatever her name was, had laid it out for her with no holds barred, several times now. Her malfunctioning mind seemed to forget the things she didn't want to remember. Or maybe that was a highly functioning mind. She just wanted to give up. There was no way she could get through this. She was alone in the world, no family except for a grandmother she hadn't seen or talked to for 20 years. She was amazed that she could even remember her grandmother's name. The social worker, whoever she was, had kept badgering her for a name of someone to contact, a name of her next of kin. McKenna had blurted out the name Lily Bannister in an attempt to silence the persistent woman. The social worker had leapt on the name, wanting to know her relationship to McKenna. "She is -- or was -- my grandmother, on my mother's side. I don't even know if she's still alive. She'd be old by now, 70 or maybe 80, I don't know." The social worker had written down the name, then asked for an address and phone number. McKenna was furious at the woman's stupidity. Very slowly and precisely, contempt evident in her voice, she said, "I told you I hadn't seen or talked to her for 20 years. So isn't it obvious, even to you, that I don't know her address or her phone number. My God, woman, don't you listen at all?" McKenna saw the black woman's face darken even more. She'd sat there at McKenna's bedside, sitting tall in a straight-backed chair, silent, her lips pursed together, her forehead ridged in frown lines. "Ms. Mattingly, you do know that I'm trying to help you? You do realize I'm on your side?" McKenna didn't answer, a technique she'd perfected the past few days of interaction with the stupid social worker, whatever her name was. Who cared what her name was anyway? McKenna lay there motionless, silent, waiting for the woman to go away. Ultimately, she did. McKenna heard the tap-tapping of the blind woman's cane, then the door opening, then closing, perhaps more firmly than necessary. McKenna opened her eyes, then blinked them shut again, against the bright overhead lights. In a moment, she slowly opened them again, letting them accustom themselves to the light. She looked around the hospital room. It was a pleasant enough room, she thought, very hospital-like but with some homelike touches that softened the clinic-ness feeling that pervaded everything in the hospital. Table lamps shed a soft light over the room, paintings of landscapes brightened the walls. Against the windows were floral drapes that complemented the color of the walls. What was missing were flowers or stuffed animals or balloons, those tokens brought by visitors. McKenna hadn't had any visitors during her time here, until last night and the visit of her grandmother. She lay there counting the days, trying to figure out what day it was now and how long she'd been here but everything was so blurry and fuzzy that she gave up trying. She was filled with anger and didn't know what to do about it. She wanted to scream and yell but was somehow afraid that if she did, she would be unable to stop. A whispery thought was niggling at the edges of her mind. Deep down, she knew it was an important thought, perhaps a light-shattering thought. And for just that reason, she decided to leave the thought alone, to not try to remember it. [suicide attempt -- don't reveal it yet -- she'd lost her boyfriend and her job and was feeling bereft and beyond hope and th thought niggling in the back of her mind was that of ending it all. After all, why not? What did she have to live for? She'd lost her job and her boyfriend and was basically alone and bereft in the world..] She tried to relax the rigidity of her body but the harder she tried, the tenser she felt. She stared at the clock on the wall across the room and saw that the hands of the clock had reached 11 and were now edging past the hour. Perhaps her grandmother and the lawyer weren't coming. She wanted so badly for that to be the case. She didn't want them here, didn't want to have to deal with them and the reality of her life, her shattered life. Despite the fuzziness of her brain, she knew things were bad, worse than they'd ever been. As she tried to corral her thoughts, she felt a searing hot spasm of regret sear through her, taking her breath away and bringing the sting of tears to her eyes. She felt so alone. She was 30 years old and apart from a grandmother she didn't know at all, she had no family. She had no real friends, having managed to offend them all, push them away, and destroy any vestiges of friendship that had been there. She was a mess, she thought, a sopping, soggy, putrid mess. She tried to sit up but the pain in her head forced her head back on the pillow. She wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with her. She knew doctors had talked to her and had probably had given her a diagnosis but she was damned if she could remember what they'd said. She looked over at the window and wondered what floor she was on, wondered if she could get the window open, wondered if she had the guts to jump out. There it was -- that niggling thought she'd been trying to ignore. She let it creep in the edges of her mind, then examined it, turned it over and over, looking at it from all sides. All her life she could remember having a strong anti-suicide attitude. She thought it was the cruelest act one human being could do to another. When she was a teenager, one of her high school classmates had shot himself. His parents had tried to pretend it was an accident, a stupid shooting accident. But his classmates knew otherwise, although no one had ever tried to force the truth on the boy's parents. They'd let the parents alone, to believe their lie that gave them some comfort. Even with her hands clenched tightly under the covers, McKenna could feel the trembling of her fingers. No matter how much she tried to cover it up, she was terrified. She could go to jail, and she was sure she wouldn't be able to handle that. She knew she had no courage, no strength, no backbone. Even though she was 20 when her mother died of breast cancer, her mother had really left her long before that, when her brother died. Her Dad had left shortly after her brother's death, and had pretty much been a no-show for most of her life. In many ways, McKenna had raised herself and she'd done a piss-poor job, she thought. Growing up, she'd seen her classmates' families, loving, giving, having fun together, supporting each other. How she'd envied them, envied the closeness and the warmth and the all-enveloping love. Her mother, Traci, had been an embittered woman. The loss of her son, the loss of her marriage, had destroyed every vestige of softness and kindness in the woman. McKenna longed for a kind word from her mother and got only criticism or, even worse, indifference. She knew what her dysfunctional childhood had done to her. It had destroyed her hope, her faith. She was lost, had felt lost for as long as she could remember. She knew this wasn't normal, this wasn't what other people felt. And she had no idea what to do about it. It was as though the rest of the world knew things that were a secret from her. It was as though other people knew how to live in this world, how to make happy lives for themselves, and here she was standing out in the cold, like the little matchgirl, looking in the windows at happy families. Chapter 4 Friday, November 26, 2010 Lily As they neared Barnes-Jewish, Lily laid her head back, trying to relax. Paul seemed engrossed in his own thoughts as he drove. She tried to empty her mind, to float along on a cloud of nothingness. But random thoughts kept flashing through her mind. She found herself thinking about what her life might have been. Things could have turned out so differently. In one incarnation of her life, she could see herself surrounded by family, happy, enjoying life. As she visualized that lost happiness, the pangs of what her life could have been pierced her heart. But then she put away that fantasy memory and remembered the reality of what her last Thanksgiving with her family had been like, 20 years ago. Dinner had been at her and Josh's house. Traci and the twins were there, along with Traci's husband Dan. As usual, too much alcohol was consumed and the results weren't pretty. For awhile, things had been all right, on a fairly even keel. She and Traci had worked together in the kitchen, getting things ready, while Dan and Josh watched football in the great room with the twins. Then somehow, inexplicably Traci and Dan had begun to argue, saying vicious things to one another and not caring who heard them, even the twins. Finally, Dan had stormed out of the house, with Traci screaming insults after him. Josh had lost his temper at the behavior of his daughter and her husband and had gone upstairs, slamming the bedroom door loudly behind him. Traci locked herself in the downstairs powder room, sobbing. Lily had gone into the family to try to comfort the twins. They pretended they didn't know that anything was wrong, an impossible thing for them to be doing. It broke Lily's heart to see the two of them huddled together on the leather sectional, staring unseeing into the television. Lily coaxed them into the dining room for dinner and managed to do the same with Traci. It was a sad foursome sitting around the gaily decorated dining room table, Traci with her tear-streaked face and red eyes, and the twins barely able to hold back their own tears. As for Lily, she was barely able to hold herself together. Before dinner, Lily had limited her drinking to a couple of glasses of wine. Once she and Traci and the twins had sat down to eat, she started drinking Scotch and soda. Traci stayed with wine. The uncomfortable dinner was quickly over, and the twins went downstairs to the family room to watch TV while Lily and Traci cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. As Lily and Traci stood together in the kitchen, Lily with her Scotch and soda and Traci with a new bottle of wine, they looked at each other in silent dismay. The day had been a repeat of so many family gatherings. Sometimes Lily and Josh were the ones who argued, sometimes, like this particular holiday, it was Traci and Dan. Subconsciously, Lily knew that alcohol was a main culprit and probably instigator in the family traumas, but she never admitted that to herself or anyone else. And she never considered not serving alcohol or refraining from drinking herself. It was part of the holiday ritual. It was part of their daily life, the cocktails before dinner, the after-dinner drinks. Lily and Josh had both grown up in households where their fathers were heavy drinkers. It was sort of an accepted thing, but they both swore they'd never do that when they grew up. Josh and Lily had been high school sweethearts and had married during their third year at Mizzoo. They were both on scholarships and each had two part-time jobs in order to be able to handle the expenses of an apartment and a car. They hadn't wanted to wait until after graduation to marry, feeling an overwhelming sense of desperation in needing to be together. In later years, Lily had realized their love was part addiction, part loneliness and need. But love was also there and a strong sexual attraction that kept them in thrall to one another. They'd mostly had a good marriage, although there had been one separation seven years into the marriage when Josh wasn't sure he loved her. He eventually came to realize that he did love Lily, and they got the marriage back on track. Traci was the result of their re-ignited lovemaking. That Thanksgiving, Lily had insisted that Traci and the twins spend the night. But Traci wanted to get home, and said they would take a cab. But Lily had said that was nonsense and said she'd drive them. "But Mom, that's probably not a good idea. Don't you think you've had a bit too much to drink to be driving?" Traci said as tactfully as she could. Nonsense, Lily had exclaimed, although in the back of her mind she did think she was feeling a bit woozy. She considered going upstairs and asking Josh if he would drive Traci and the twins home but thought better of it. He was probably still in a hateful mood and she didn't want him spewing his anger out on her. Traci went downstairs to get the twins, and Lily finished off her Scotch and soda, certain that a few more sips couldn't do any harm. She went into the entry foyer to get her coat and purse and almost tripped on the throw rug in front of the closet. She steadied herself, took a deep breath and thought perhaps Traci was right, that she shouldn't be driving. She looked over at the telephone over on the foyer table and considered calling a cab. But then the twins and Traci were there in the foyer, getting their coats out of the coat closet and the moment passed. Lily fumbled through her purse for her car keys and then for her glasses, but they were nowhere to be found. She searched her coat pockets but no glasses. Oh, well, she thought, I can see well enough to drive, and it's not like I'm going to some unfamiliar place. Traci bundled up the twins, then put on her own coast, a beautiful black fur that Dan had bought for her last Christmas. She looked like a regal Russian princess in it, and Lily told her so, earning a wide grin from her daughter. [Editor's note: The accident is not Lily's fault. Another drunken driver hits them and Jamie is killed. But Lily is arrested, along with the other driver, because the police officers can tell she's been drinking. Her blood alcohol was three times the legal limit. Even though the accident wasn't her fault, she blames herself, as does Josh and Traci and Dan. The accident begins the slow unraveling of their family. Josh moves out that night. Traci refuses to talk to her mother and refuses to allow her to attend Jamie's funeral. Because it was her first offense, she'd given probation but is remanded to a six-month rehab program. Her firm puts her on an extended leave of absence, appalled at the bad publicity she's brought down on the firm, which is all about image and appearances. She knows they'll never take her back. She arranges to live at a rehab center in the town of Rivermont, far enough away from St. Louis that she won't be running into anyone she knew. Josh filed for a divorce shortly after Jamie's funeral and Lily didn't protest it, just signed the papers. The division of marital property was equitable but Lily didn't care. Her family had disowned her, her beloved grandson was dead and she blamed herself. She sunk into a deep depression and the rehab center felt like another nail in her coffin. She often contemplated suicide but felt that she didn't have the right to take her own life. It wasn't hers to take. Prior to the accident, she'd been what she considered a nonchalant Christian, going to church on the holidays or special family occasions like christenings. But after the accident, she dropped all pretense of believing in God. If there were a God, the loving God that supposedly cared about His children, how could he have let Jamie die. When her court-ordered, state-funded six-month stint in rehab was complete, she stayed in Rivermont, getting a job with a housecleaning service. During rehab, she'd been on the cleaning crew and had learned all the best, correct ways to clean a house or a building. Celia Long's home had been one of the first homes she'd been assigned to. The homeowner was in a nursing home recovering from what Lily learned much later was a skiing accident. She and her family had gone to Vail, Colorado over the New Year's holiday and Lily had taken a tumble and broke her leg. Later Lily had marveled at the thought of a 70-year-old woman on the ski slopes. Lily had found her house-cleaning job to be fascinating. She loved looking at and trying to understand the artifacts that people surrounded themselves with. She could intuit their life stories by the photos and cards and knickknacks they kept. She wondered if her own cleaning lady had had such insights into the Bannister family. Through the years, Lily had Googled her family and learned that Josh had remarried less than a month after their divorce was final, to one of his colleagues in the insurance company where he worked. Evidently, something had been going on and Josh had taken advantage of the opportunity to get out of a marriage he no longer wanted to be in. She'd read online that he'd died last year of a massive heart attack at age 69. Traci and Dan had also divorced, two years after Jamie's death. They were both dead now. Traci had died 10 years ago from breast cancer. Two years ago, she'd read that Dan had been the victim of a nine-car pile-up on highway 270 in the suburbs of St. Louis. So the only remaining family members were her granddaughter McKenna and herself. Chapter 5 Friday, November 26, 2010 McKenna, Lily and Paul When they reached Barnes-Jewish Hospital, Paul let Lily out at the main entrance, then turned into the parking garage, hoping for a relatively close parking space. But no such luck. Evidently the day after Thanksgiving was a prime hospital-visiting day, along with Christmas shopping. He had to park on the top tier of the garage, the open area. He locked the Ranger and made his way down the stairs, not wanting to wait for what was sure to be a slow, dirty, creaking elevator. He found Lily standing by the guard's desk in the main hospital lobby chatting with a black woman who was holding a white cane. That must be the social worker, he thought, trying to remember her name, but it wouldn't come to him. As he approached the guard's desk, Lily gave him a wide smile and reached out to touch his arm. "Paul, I'd like to introduce Ruth Washington, the hospital social worker assigned to McKenna's case," Lily said, turning to look at Ruth. "A pleasure, Ms. Washington," Paul said, extending his hand for a handshake, then quickly retracting as he remembered that the woman wouldn't be able to see his hand. He felt like a fool and hoped Lily wouldn't say anything. Thankfully, she didn't." The social worker extended her hand to Paul and he took her hand. She shook his proffered hand firmly, as she said, "Likewise, Mr. Long. Thank you for coming. Ms. Mattingly is certainly in need of legal assistance. I'm hoping that you can provide that for her." "I hope so, too," Paul responded. Ruth turned to Lily and said, "If you would be so kind as to take my arm and lead us over to the elevator." "Of course," Lily said, reaching out to take Ruth's arm. The lobby was crowded, and the elevators were busy. They had to wait five minutes before they were able to take one of the elevators to the 13th floor. It was 11:20 when they finally reached McKenna's room. Lily felt bad about being later than planned. She was diligent about being on time for appointments, almost to a fault, and to the point where she was regularly early, for fear of being late. When they entered the hospital room, McKenna was lying motionless on the bed, face turned away from the door so Lily and Paul couldn't tell if she was awake. Ruth approached the bed and said softly, "McKenna, your grandmother is here." There was no response and Ruth said in a louder voice, "McKenna, are you awake? Your grandmother is here." Without turning her head, McKenna said in a petulant tone, "I heard you the first time." Ruth made no response. Paul took charge, saying, "I'll bring chairs for us." Ruth spoke up then, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Long, but not for me. I've decided that I'm going to give you some privacy. Lily, when you're finished here, could you please come by my office?" Lily agreed, saying, "Of course, we'll see you in awhile." Ruth left the room, and Lily and Paul sat down it the chairs Paul had moved next to McKenna's hospital bed. They sat there in silence for a few moments, then Lily cleared her throat and said, "McKenna, I'd like to introduce Paul Long, a dear, long-time friend of mine." She waited for a response from McKenna but when none came, she continued. "Paul is also an attorney. He practices in Rivermont, the town where I live." Lily glanced at Paul, and he took pity on her and assumed control of the conversation, one-sided though it was. "McKenna - I hope it's all right that I call you McKenna?" Still receiving no response from the woman in the bed, Paul continued, "Ms. Washington gave us some of the details of your legal situation and I did some research on CaseNet -- are you familiar with CaseNet?" To Paul's and Lily's surprise, Paul's question to McKenna received a response, a slight nod of her head and a murmured "Mmmhmm." Encourage by her response, Paul continued, "Well, with the preliminary facts that I have, my recommendation to you will be for you to plead guilty and throw yourself on the mercy of the court." This brought a more volatile response from McKenna in the form of a sharp retort, "No!" Paul nodded and said, "I thought you might react that way. Let me explain why I think you should plead guilty." He proceeded to outline the evidence that the authorities had against her: the alcohol level in her blood and the fact that the police estimated that she was going more than 30 miles over the speed limit in a construction zone, a serious offense. "McKenna, if you go to trial and are found guilty, you run the risk of serious jail time. If you plead guilty and throw yourself on the mercy of the court, I predict that you have a chance of receiving probation. You have no previous offenses, you've been an upstanding, contributing member of society. I must tell you that with jail or with probation, you'll also definitely be directed into an alcohol rehabilitation program. The authorities have been supporting an effort to get drunk drivers off the roads, and they've been taking a palliative instead of punishment approach." Paul paused, letting his deliberately harsh use of the word drunk sink in. He wasn't going to sugarcoat her offense or fill her with false and undeserved hope. Paul had no patience for those who drove while intoxicated. It was a highly preventable crime. How could people knowingly risk other people's lives, not to mention their own? Paul and his friends were strict adherents of designated drivers or calling a cab. They'd seen too many unnecessary tragedies from careless drunk drivers. Paul drank on occasion and had nothing against drinking or those who drank. What he couldn't abide were drunk drivers. Lily sat next to him, stonily silent. He regretted the fact that his words were most likely hurting her and dragging up tragedies from her own past but it couldn't be helped. It was important that McKenna acknowledge and own what she'd done. True repentance was the only defense she had going for her. There was a part of him that would have preferred a strong punishment but he also knew that mostly likely wouldn't cause any change in her behavior. McKenna turned and buried her face in the pillow and pulled the thermal blanket almost all the way over her head. Paul shook his head in frustration at her retreat. He stood up and motioned to Lily to follow him out into the hall. They closed the door to McKenna's room, then Lily said "What? Why are we out here?" "Lily, dear sweet Lily, I need you to go down to the social worker's office and wait there for me. I need to get rough with your granddaughter, and I don't want you in the room while I do it. Understand?" "My young friend, I understand more than you know, or perhaps not. All right, I'll meet you downstairs. Ruth's office is room number 305. It's at the lobby side of the building. Her office overlooks the lobby atrium. I'll see you in awhile." Lily turned and headed toward the bank of elevators. When she reached them, she turned around and gave Paul a smile and a small wave. He smiled back at her and then went into McKenna's room. This time he didn't sit in the chair at the side of her bed. He walked over to the other side of the bed by the windoes and reached over to open the drapes and then the blinds. Light flooded the room. "All right, McKenna," he said to the motionless figure in the bed. She was almost completely covered head-to- toe with the blanket. "It's time for our 'come-to-Jesus' meeting." He started to pace back and forth in the narrow space between McKenna's hospital bed and the windowed wall. He cleared his throat, then began speaking in a low, earnest tone. "I've known your grandmother for almost 20 years, since I was a smart-aleck young kid in college. I respect her more than anyone in the world except for my own grandmother. Lily is a deeply caring, extremely generous and giving woman. I can't even begin to tell you all the good things she's done in her life since coming to Rivermont. I know all about her past, probably a lot more than you do, and definitely more of the true story than I'm sure anyone in your family or outside ever told you. Someday, perhaps she'll tell you the story yourself. Or maybe she'll give me permission to tell you. Because it's a story you need to hear and understand." There was no sign that McKenna was hearing him. He walked over and very gently pulled the blanket away from her face. To his surprise, tears were running down her cheeks. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and her hands were clenched into fists and buried in her chin. He reached over for the box of Kleenex on the bedside table and grabbed a handful of tissues. He shoved them into McKenna's hands, then said, "Go ahead, wipe your eyes and blow your nose so we can talk, We've got a lot things to discuss." McKenna mopped her face with the tissues and blew her nose a couple of times. She raised up on her elbow to reach over and toss the used tissues in the wastebasket beside the bed. All the while, Paul stared at her, but she didn't look at him. She rearranged herself in the bed and used the control to raise the bed into a sitting position. She reached over on the bedside table for the glass of water sitting there and drank it down in one gulp. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Paul but didn't say anything. "Feel better?" Paul asked but received no answer, which was what he had come to expect from McKenna in the few minutes he'd known her. Paul walked around the bed to one of the overstuffed armchairs at the side of the bed and sat down. He leaned back in the chair, rested his head and closed his eyes. He knew he had a bit of her attention but he didn't know how long that would last or how much impact his words might have. If this weren't Lily's granddaughter, he would have walked out on her long before this. But he wanted to do what he could for Lily so he was still here, at least for the next few minutes. He knew that his patience was wearing thin and that he could at any moment follow his impulse to bolt. Because it was Lily, he would do what he could but with an uncooperative client, there wasn't much he could do. He sat up straight in the chair and eased himself to the edge of the chair. "All right, McKenna, let's just go over the facts one more time. The police have your blood test proving that you were driving while intoxicated. There's no arguing with that. We have a police officer who clocked you going in excess of 30 miles over the speed limit in a construction zone, an offense that doesn't go over well no matter what." He paused and looked directly at McKenna. She was still looking at him but her face was expressionless. "McKenna, let me repeat what I told you before. If you insist on going to trial and are found guilty, you can very well be sentenced to serious jail time. But, and I can't emphasize this enough, if you plead guilty and throw yourself on the mercy of the court, you may have a chance of receiving probation. As I told you, because you don't have any previous offenses, the judge may give you the benefit of the doubt. However, you would have to participate in a rigorous alcohol rehabilitation program, most likely in-house, not as an outpatient. It could last as long as six months. You will probably have to attend AA meetings for the foreseeable future. Your probation would spell out all those requirements and more. I'm assuming there would be community service hours. One of the new parts of rehabilitation is wearing an alcohol sensor that can detect it even if you're just in the vicinity of alcohol." Paul paused to take a breath and to gauge how his words were affecting his listener. While he'd been talking, he'd gotten up out of the armchair and had begun pacing again and hadn't been looking at McKenna. Now he turned and looked at her sitting up in the bed. She had her eyes closed and her face was expressionless. He walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at her but didn't say anything. After a moment, her eyes opened and for the first time, she looked him squarely in the eyes. He saw again Lily's familiar green eyes in the younger woman's faces. Her eyes were bloodshot and a bit puffy from her earlier crying fit. For several long seconds, Paul and McKenna stared at one another, neither speaking or moving. Finally, McKenna had once again closed her eyes and closed Paul out. He stood there, unmoving, considering what to do. Then, he turned and walked quickly and decisively out of McKenna Mattingly's hospital room. He grabbed an elevator and rode in controlled fury down to the third floor to the social worker's office. The door was open and he strode in, his footsteps echoing loudly on the tile floor. "Paul?" Lily burst out, surprised at his abrupt entrance. "What is it? Is something wrong>" "You bet something's wrong," he said in an ominous tone. "That woman is what's wrong. Lily, forgive me, but she's hopeless. There's no way I can help her through this legal mess she's caused. She won't say a word to me. I can't help someone who won't talk to me, who won't help themselves." Paul stopped talking and looked over at the social worker sitting behind her desk. "My apologies, ma'am," Paul said, trying to hide the fact that he couldn't remember her name. "I wish I could help Ms. Mattingly but if she won't cooperate, won't even speak to me, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do." For a moment, neither Lily nor Ruth said anything, then Ruth said, "Please, Mr. Long, have a seat and let's talk about this." "I don’t know what there is to talk about," Paul answered, a trace of belligerence in his tone. But he took the chair next to Lily. "I think I understand how you feel, Mr. Long," Ruth said. "I've been feeling some of the same frustration with McKenna during her time here. She just won't talk to me, certainly won't in any way open up. It's as thought she's out to deliberately sabotage herself. And no matter what anyone says or does, there hasn't been a way to get through to her. It was quite a coup when I finally pried her grandmother's name out of her. Let me try one more thing and get back to you. I want to talk with her doctors and see what they would think about prescribing an antidepressant for her. They could order a psych evaluation and based on the results, decide if medication is indicated. I'll try to get that process started today and then I'll get back in touch. Which one of you should I call?" Lily and Paul looked at each other and both began to speak at once. Paul nodded at Lily to indicate that she should go ahead and say what she had been trying to say. "If you don't mind, I would feel better if you followed up with Paul. At the moment, McKenna's legal issues are the most important thing, the thing that we need to get resolved." Paul nodded in agreement and said, "We can sort out McKenna's relationship or lack thereof with her grandmother later. There's no rush on that. But her pending arrest and possible incarceration are more time- sensitive and of much more concern." Ruth insisted on accompanying them down to lobby although Lily protested that they'd taken up too much of her time already. "Nonsense, this has been most interesting. And I hope you'll stay in touch with so I know the outcome of McKenna's situation. This is better than any soap opera on TV." The three of them were in an elevator with several other people when Ruth said this, and there was laughter from all the passengers. They stopped by the guard's desk to say their goodbyes, and Ruth said to Paul, "I'll let you know what her doctors say about an antidepressant. In my opinion, it couldn't do any harm." Chapter 6 Friday, November 26, 2010 Paul The drive back to Rivermont was a silent one, with Lily and Paul both absorbed in their own thoughts. Paul turned on the Ranger's radio and tuned in to one of the easy listening stations on satellite radio. Paul sighed and glanced over at Lily. She was looking out the window, and he imagined she was deep in thought. He couldn't tell what kind of mood she was in. Lily had the ability to mask her moods when she so chose. But he could imagine that she must be feeling disappointed about the results of their visit with McKenna. He'd had such high hopes for Lily having a relationship with her long lost granddaughter but no such occurrence seemed possible. He went back over the details of the meeting with McKenna Mattingly, not at all happy with what had transpired. He'd never before had a client who wouldn't talk to him. In fact, quite the opposite was norm. He usually couldn't get clients to stop talking long enough to listen to him and his advice. He wasn't sure if he could adequately represent McKenna if she continued to refuse to speak to him. He guessed that you couldn't actually term it a refusal because she hadn't even spoken enough to qualify it for a refusal. As the miles rolled by, he mused about McKenna, wondering what she was like under normal circumstances. He could only assume that normally she was probably fairly attractive, based on her resemblance to Lily. But lying in the hospital bed with her head bandaged, the remnants of a black eye, and bruises covering both sides of her jaw, she had looked horrible. He had thought she must be in some pain. She had to be, as banged up as she looked. At least she didn't seem to be a whiner or a complainer. On the earlier drive to St. Louis, Lily had shared with him some of what she'd found out about McKenna on the Internet. He found it ironic that both women were involved in Web development. There must a geek gene somewhere there that these two women shared. He hoped there was some way to bring these two women together, to salvage some kind of a family for Lily. She'd done enough penance for two lifetimes, and he wanted something more for her. He had an idea, one that he'd explore as soon as he could. Chapter 7 Friday, November 26, 2010 Lily Lily welcomed the silence in the car. She didn't think she could have done the small talk thing with Paul, and she certainly wasn't ready to do any debriefing about McKenna with him. She needed to process all that had gone on today and come to some resolution of her feelings. It broke her heart to see McKenna lying there. She obviously had to be in pain, based on how bandaged and bruised up she was. It felt odd to look at this stranger who was her granddaughter and realize she was Lily's closest living relative, almost her only living relative. After Ruth Washington had first contacted her, Lily had thought there might be a chance for her and McKenna to build some kind of relationship. But now that didn't seem so possible, based on McKenna's rejection of her. She sighed and leaned her head back on the headrest in the Ranger's passenger seat, trying to calm her mind and nerves. Over the years, she'd made regular use of the meditation techniques she'd learned during her course of treatment by the migraine doctor. Now, as she tried to relax, the techniques seemed to have escaped her. Her mind was in turmoil as her thoughts raced from one thing to another. She thought back to her first years in Rivermont. It had been the hardest adjustment she'd ever had to make. Alone in a strange place, she'd felt lost and adrift. She'd moved there deliberately, for a very specific reason, and that reason was enough to keep her there for the rest of her life. But her life there was hard, and she wasn't sure if it would ever get any easier. But finally, out of desperation and at her wit's end at her misery and depression, she'd worked her way through to a life approach that had begun to serve her well in the new life she'd forced on herself. In her life in Rivermont, most of the experiences she confronted were not pleasant ones, and she found herself dreading them, feeling sorry for herself, rushing through them and not in any way smelling the roses. She spent her days resenting the things she was doing and resisting them. The resentment and resistance only exacerbated the time it seemed to take to finish the things she didn't want to do. One day, out of the blue, she was struck by the idea that she had control of her mental state. She realized she could enjoy, like, look forward to everything that she did, every experience she had. She could let the activities fill her with contentment not resentment. She could not resist life but participate in it. She could stop whining and complaining and go with the flow. At first, Lily had struggled with her new approach. It was so diametrically the opposite of her previous way of living that it seemed strange and alien. Then slowly, gradually, she began to be able to find a silver lining inside each experience. It took her quite awhile with a lot of setbacks along the way, but she eventually made it her normal approach to life, and she felt blessed to have found this way of looking at life. Sometime after she'd started this new approach, Celia had begun asking her about a difference she'd noticed in Lily. At first, Lily had avoided answering Celia's questions, pretending she didn't know what Celia was talking about. Lily had been hesitant about telling anyone about her approach to life, even Celia. She had been afraid that if she talked about it, she ran the risk of it disappearing. And she didn't think she could bear to go back to the resentful, unhappy person she'd been. She also feared being laughed at for her naïveté and lack of maturity to have assumed such a Pollyanna outlook. She thought if anyone knew how she was approaching life, they would think her a fool or worse, a liar and a charlatan. But one day she'd finally caved under Celia's gentle, unrelenting pressure and had told her friend what was going on with her. She told Celia how she'd come to realize she could control her thoughts, her moods, her reactions to life's events. She could direct her thoughts in the way she wanted them to go, and it had made a life- altering difference to her. Celia had smiled at her and said, "The Power of Intention." "What are you talking about?" had been Lily's response. "The Power of Intention," Celia repeated. "It's a whole movement, a way of thinking, a way of living, with multiple books written on the topic. So my dear friend, it sounds as though you discovered this approach on your own, without any outside influence." Lily had smiled quizzically at her friend and asked for more information. Celia did her one better. The two women had been sitting on the sun porch at the back of Celia's rambling old house, and Celia stood up, pushed back her chair and turned to Lily to say, "I'll be back in a moment. I have a boatload of books about intention. I'll select a few of the best for your borrow." Lily had sat there feeling amazed that something she thought only she knew about was a movement with books written about it. Part of her felt deflated because she'd been so proud of coming up with what she thought was such an original idea. But another part of her felt validated and reassured, glad other people agreed with what she now so wholeheartedly believed. It had changed her life, given her the capacity to live again and not mourn the life she'd destroyed. Celia had come back, laden down with an armload of books that she set down on the table. "There. Keep them as long as you want. I know most of them by heart." Celia sat back down and smiled at the younger woman as she asked, "Will you tell me more about how you thought of this and what you've been doing?" Lily sighed and nodded her head slowly up and down. "And here I was so proud of myself. I thought I'd come up with an original idea. I guess that old adage is true about there being nothing new under the sun." Celia had laughed at that and said, "Okay, don't keep me in suspense. Tell me how you came up with this." Lily said, "Do you want the long version or the Reader's Digest version?" "The long version, please," Celia said, adding, "We have all afternoon, unless you have to be somewhere." At the time, Lily was Celia's live-in housekeeper and rarely left the house except for grocery shopping and other errands. She hadn't yet started her volunteer activities or her writing. Lily smiled at her friend / employer and said, "You know very well I don’t have to be somewhere. So the long version it is." She poured herself another cup of tea, gestured to Celia to see if she wanted a refill. Celia nodded, Lily poured, then began her story. "You know how and why I came to Rivermont so I'll skip over that part. I was in dire straits when I arrived here and that continued for months, almost a year actually. I had never known such misery. Every day was torture; I dreaded everything that I did. Then one day, after almost of year of misery, I was downtown, waiting till it was time for me to go to my next cleaning job. I don't know if you knew that the cleaning service I worked for also handled a few small businesses. One of them was a florist shop on the downtown mall. They closed at seven in the summer, so I was sitting in that little park that's part of the mall, waiting for it to be seven. I sat there stewing, thinking how much I hated cleaning, how much I hated the florist shop, how I hated Rivermont and my life. "I'd worked myself into a righteous turmoil, filling sorry for myself, letting my self-pity consume me. My head was pounding and so was my heart. I felt so awful that even though I was only 50, I convinced myself I was having a heart attack. I sat there thinking I'd just let it happen, not try to save myself. What did I have to live for? "That thought took me by surprise. Through all the tragedy, I'd never thought I had nothing to live for. So I put myself through some rigorous soul-searching and realized I didn't want to die. I wanted to stay alive and try to do good things. But I was making myself so miserable that the chances of that were slim to none. So, being the great problem-solver and strategist that I am," Lily paused here to grin at Celia and say, "just kidding," then continued. "I looked at what I was doing to myself mentally and knew I had to stop. "I thought about the minutes that make up the hours that make up the days and weeks and years and knew I couldn't go on being miserable for all of them. I couldn't continue to be tortured by my thoughts. Then as though a light was gradually brightening, the idea began to form in my mind that I could control my thoughts. They were mine, after all. I could change my thoughts to make them what I wanted them to be. So then I sat there for awhile wondering what I wanted them to be. "The idea came to me that as a first step, a baby step, I might be able to change the way I was feeling about my next cleaning job, the florist shop. So instead of dreading it, resenting it, I told myself I would enjoy it. I started thinking about things I could enjoy and realized I could enjoy seeing the beautiful flowers and the creative arrangements. I could appreciate the smell of the flowers. The shop itself was charming, warm and welcoming. I'd never met the proprietor but as I thought about it, I began to see that it might be an older woman who was deeply committed to providing beautiful arrangements to enhance the special events in people's lives. "I let that new vision pour over me, and it felt good. When it was time to go over to the florist shop, I stood up, straightened my shoulders and walked purposefully across the mall to the shop. I was determined to see things differently. "It turned out that evening the proprietor was still there when I arrived. And I'd been partly right. The proprietor was an older woman. She was in a wheelchair, which I hadn't expected. She greeted me with a gracious, warm smile and introduced herself. I in turn introduced myself, and she thanked me for the wonderful job I did in cleaning her shop. "I used to be able to do it myself, until I had to take to this wheelchair," the woman told her. "So I feel grateful to have someone take such care with my place. Thank you, my dear." Lily said, "She left a few minutes later when her son arrived to pick her up. I watched out the back window as he gently lifted her out of her wheelchair and into the van parked at the back of the shop." "And Celia, after that I never felt another moment's resentment about cleaning that florist shop." Celia smiled at her friend and said, "Lily, do you realize what a miraculous thing happened to you?" Lily thought for a moment and then said slowly, "Yes, Celia, I do know what a miracle it was. And I've thought the miracle came from somewhere outside myself. You and I have never really discussed religion so I'm not sure you know that after Jamie's death, I stopped believing in God. My belief had been a rather perfunctory one to begin with, and losing Jamie wiped any belief or faith right out of me. "But having that insight restored my faith. I truly felt and still do feel it was a gift from God, and I was determined then and I'm determined now to make the best use I can of that gift." Lily had taken the books up to her room at the top of the house and began to read them that very afternoon. The ideas in the books reinforced and expanded upon what she'd come to believe on her own. She learned what people had experienced and how they'd built on their experiences. Every few days, she'd bring the topic up with Celia again, or Celia would bring it up with her, and the two women would talk about what Lily was reading and learning. Lily felt so fortunate to have Celia as her employer and friend. And she felt she'd reached a true turning point in her life. Celia told her that she'd learned about intention years ago and had embraced the idea wholeheartedly. She said, "At first, very few people understood intention, and then slowly almost imperceptibly, the idea began to grow, to gain traction. For awhile, it was not mentioned in the popular press but that changed when a couple of internationally known authors and speakers began talking about intention, and then the whole thing exploded in the world of ideas." Sharing her ideas with Celia started a sea change in Lily's life. She went back to her interest in the Internet and web design and created an intention site for herself. This was the time when she created a web site for the cleaning company she'd once worked for. Then the free-lance jobs started coming, and she began writing fiction for fun. After a couple of years with her new life, she sold a website she'd developed for a substantial sum of money. That had enabled her to leave all her previous jobs behind and to concentrate on her writing and to begin the volunteer work she wanted to do. She still dabbled in web development but more as a hobby than a source of income. Over the years, she had worked out her philosophy in her mind and saw that intention was the basis, the foundation. In her daily life, she used the mental and emotional tool she'd created for herslef, which she'd named positive positioning, PP for short. She set an intention to do positive positioning and the rest was history, as they say. She'd wanted to share her discoveries with everyone she met but after a couple times when people had looked as though she'd lost her mind, she'd stopped talking about her ideas with most everyone except for Celia and Celia's son Robert and grandson Paul. Lily assumed that Robert and Paul shared the same beliefs as she and Celia although she'd never asked, and they'd never discussed philosophies of life or outlooks on life. Lily felt comfortable with Robert and Paul and would have felt at ease discussing any topic with them, even her rather out of the ordinary belief system. But she never did. Now, she glanced over at Paul, as he sat looking so handsome and in-charge behind the wheel of red Ranger. He was such a kind young man, pleasant, funny as hell, unexpectedly nostalgic. She wished McKenna could have someone like Paul in her life. She let that thought drift lazily through her mind but then quickly extinguished it. If there was anything she didn't want to be was an interfering matchmaker busy body. She turned her thoughts away from Paul and on to his father Robert. Both Robert and Paul had been devastated two years ago when Elise, Robert's wife of 45 years and Paul's mother, had died from brain cancer. Her death and come quickly and painfully. The onset of the disease was rapid and heartbreaking. One day she was a vibrant, laughing woman, and the next day almost, or so it seemed to Lily, she was a frail, bald old woman who could barely string two words together. Robert had taken his wife's death hard. Two years before Elise had been stricken, he'd retired from his executive position at Dynatron, a Rivermont-based aerospace firm. Robert and Elise had begun traveling as soon as his retirement was finalized, and Robert was grateful that he and Elise had had at least two years of fun and adventure together. Celia had told Lily that Robert was still not handling Elise's death. Celia said, "Robert told me he would have given anything for Elise to still be alive. He even went so far as to say he would have traded his own life for hers, if only that were possible." Lily hadn't known Elise well. She saw her when Celia hosted family events at her home but Elise and Lily had only exchanged smiles of greeting and farewell in the years they'd known one another. She hadn't seen much of Robert during the past two years but hadn't thought anything of it. Paul and Celia seldom if ever mentioned Robert to Lily but she hadn't thought anything of that either. But now she wondered what was going on with Robert. She turned toward Paul, and asked, "So what's going on with your Dad?" Paul had jerked his head toward her and asked in a brusque tone, "Why do you ask?" "Whoa," Lily answered. "A bit defensive there, aren't we?" Paul shook his head slightly and said a muted, "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." Lily waited for Paul to tell her how his Dad was doing but Paul was silent. For a moment, Lily considered letting it go but her curiosity got the better of her. "I haven't seen your Dad for awhile." She stopped and once again waited for Paul's response. When none came, she debated whether to push it or not. This wasn't like Paul at all. She was puzzled because Celia hadn't told her that anything was wrong with Robert and surely her friend would have said something if her only son had a problem. "Paul, is there a problem with your Dad?" Lily's voice was gentle as she asked the question. Again, her words were met with silence. But then Paul glanced over at her and nodded his head yes. "Dad's not doing so well." Paul stopped, cleared his throat, then continued in a slow, considered tone. "You know how devastated he was when Mom died. I didn't think he could ever cope with her death, and it turns out I was right. He hasn't coped." Lily wanted to ask what he meant but waited patiently for Paul to tell her. "Shortly after Mom died, he began visiting psychics, mediums, people who claimed they could talk to the dead." "Oh, Paul, I'm sorry to hear that." Lily commiserated. "It's been awful. I've tried to keep it from Gran. I've sworn Dad to secrecy, telling him it would kill her if she knew what he was doing. So far, he's kept his promise not to talk about it with her. As you may have noticed, he's not around much. He only visits Gran at the nursing home once a month or so, and I always make sure to accompany him to keep him from spilling the beans about his foolish activities." Lily sat there in silence, not knowing what to say. She didn't think she believed in psychics or mediums. She thought there was probably something after death, some afterlife but she had no clue what it might be. Who knew? That was the point – no one knew, despite how many people purported to have the inside scoop on all things spiritual and religious. To her surprise, Paul echoed her thoughts when he asked her, "Do you believe in that kind of thing? Spirits and the other side and that stuff?" Lily paused before answering, considering her words carefully. "I don't believe in psychics or mediums. But I do believe there might be something after death, some afterlife or such. I have no idea what it might be. Nobody does. And that's the point. Psychics and mediums can claim they know about the afterlife but they don't know any more than we do. And the spiritual field is filled to the brim with charlatans." Paul nodded his head several times and said, "Exactly. And I think Dad has put himself in the hands of a major charlatan." "Oh?" Lily said inquiringly. "Are you sure you're really interested in hearing about all this?" Paul asked, his tone rather depressed. Lily paused a moment before answering, considering what she should say. She had an innate, built-in curiosity that resulted in her being interested in anything and everything but she also had a highly developed sense of privacy, her own and others. Finally, she said, "Paul, I only want to hear about it if you want to tell me about it. I would never invade your family's privacy. You all mean the world to me, and I would never intrude." "Lily, you're as much a part of our family as any of us. Please don’t feel that I'm hiding something from you. Well, actually, I am hiding something from you. I'm fairly embarrassed about what's going on with Dad. But if you're willing to listen, I'm willing to talk." "Talk away, my friend," was Lily's response. Paul proceeded to tell Lily about his father's foray into the world of the occult. "It started several months after Mom's death. The church Mom and Dad attended had started a grief support group, and the pastor invited Dad to join the group. He hesitated at first because Dad is not the support group type, if you know what I mean." "That's for sure," Lily had chimed in. She remembered her own experience with grief and knew she wasn't the support group type either. But because it was the pastor and because Dad was on the board of directors of the church, he agreed to go. I think it was mostly women, with one other widower there. After his first meeting, he told me it was awful, with a lot of sobbing women sitting around a table in the basement of the church. He hadn't planned to go back but once again, the pastor had forced his hand by asking Dad to speak at the next meeting. And once again, Dad couldn't refuse." Paul had shaken his head ruefully at that and added, "You know Dad." "At the next meeting, there was a newcomer, a woman who'd lost her husband several years ago. Dad said she was lovely, about his age, and extremely attractive. The other man in the group had been a widower for a couple of years and had begun to be interested in relationships again but Dad was far from that place in his life. The woman didn't seem interested in the man's advances but that didn't seem to stop him. Finally, at one of the meetings, Dad drew the man aside and very gently and diplomatically suggested that the man leave the woman alone. From what Dad told me, that suggestion didn't go over well with the man, and heated words ensued." "Well, one thing led to another and the woman found out that Dad spoken up for her and after the meeting, she drew him aside and thanked him. Dad was embarrassed by her gratitude and told her it was nothing. She insisted on buying him a cup of coffee at the coffee shop across the street from the church, and Dad says he didn’t know how to refuse without seeming rude. "Dad says he enjoyed talking with the woman, and told her he would see her next week and got up to go. She'd asked him to stay for a minute longer, that she had something to tell him She closed her eyes and bowed her head and told him that she had a gift, a gift that she told very few people about. She said she was able to talk with those who had passed into another plane. Dad said at first he hadn't a clue what she meant and told her so. She said she could be contacted by people who had died. She told Dad that she couldn't initiate the contact, it had to come from the other side, as she called it." Lily interrupted Paul with, "And your Dad bought into that? I can't believe it." "I don't think he believed her then, but later, well that's a different story. Anyway, she told Dad that a woman named Elise had contacted her and asked her to pass a message along to her husband. So that's what the woman was doing. By the way, the woman's name was or is Cheryl, Cheryl Hancock. "Dad says that Cheryl told him, 'Your wife wants you to move on with your life. She doesn't want you to mourn her or suffer from your loss.' Dad had tried to be polite because that's how Dad is but he said it was all he could do to keep from laughing out loud at her. He wanted to tell her that his Elise would want him to love her till the day she died. But instead Dad said he really didn't believe in the spirit world but he thanked her for her concern. Then he said he left." "I suppose it's too much to hope that that's the end of the story?" Lily said, shaking her head because she already knew the answer. "No, unfortunately, that's not the end of the story, not by a long shot. Dad has continued to attend the weekly grief group meetings and each time, he has coffee with Cheryl afterwards. I think his curiosity got the best of him, or something like that. Anyway, each week, Cheryl tells him a little more and then a little more. She tells him things about Mom that he says are right on target, things that he can't figure out how she knows. It's starting to spook him. He's starting to think there may be something to what she's saying. He's asked me to go to one of the grief meetings with him and then go out for coffee afterwards with him and Cheryl. You can imagine just how much I want to do that." Paul stopped his long discourse and then gave a heavy sigh. Lily reached over and patted his arm, saying, "there, there, it can't be that bad. After all, your Dad is an eminently sensible man. He's not going to fall for anything like this." "I wish I could agree with you but from what Dad has said, I'm thinking he's on the brink of believing in the spirit world. The next meeting is on Monday night and I've agreed to go with Dad and to meet Cheryl. I'll let you know what happens." They rode along in silence for a few minutes, then both started to speak at once. "Paul, I-" "Lily –" Paul grinned over at her and said, "Ladies first, Ms. Lily." "I've been sitting here stewing about McKenna. I'm really concerned about her situation and to be honest, about her. I must say I was surprised at her non-reaction to me. That's a reaction in itself. I don't know how we're ever going to get her to agree to come stay with me, to allow you to represent her. Do you have any words of wisdom for me?" "I've been doing my own stewing. I was fairly harsh with her and that seemed to have no effect on her. I think our best bet is that social worker, whatever her name is. Why can't I remember the woman's name?" "Her name is Ruth Washington and you're too young to have memory problems. I think you're deliberately blocking out her name but I can't for the life of me figure out why." Lily paused, then said, "I think you may be right about Ruth Washington. I think I'll give her a call when we get home and pick her brain about our next steps to get McKenna's cooperation. She and I only had a moment to talk about it while you were alone with McKenna." "And that was a rousing failure," Paul said. "I'm not accustomed to being ignored but that's what that young lady did to me." "So are you going with me to visit Gran? You can't say no because she's expecting both of us for dinner." "Dinner at the nursing home?" Lily said, making a face. "Sounds delightful." "What an elitist you are!" Paul accused jokingly. "Actually, we're going out to that Italian restaurant Gran likes so much. It's just a few blocks from the nursing home." "Will there be time for me to take one of my power naps?" Lily asked. "Sure," Paul answered. "We'll be back at your house in a few minutes. I'll drop you off, run a few errands, change and be back to pick you up at 6." "Change into a better person?" Lily asked with a twinkle in her eye, using one of their inside jokes. "No, not change into a better person. I'm the best I can be already." They laughed together and once again, rode along in a companionable silence. Chapter 8 Friday, November 26, 2010 Paul At 6 o'clock sharp, Paul pulled his Ranger pick-up into Lily's driveway. He reached in the back seat section and lifted out a small blue pet taxi. As he opened the door of the Ranger, the occupant of the pet taxi gave a small whimper and Paul said in a low, soothing tone, "There, there. Everything will be fine. I'm just going to show you off to my friend and then we'll take a trip to your new home." He walked up the brick path that led to Lily's front door. The porch light was on, glowing warmly on this cold November evening, He reached out a finger to press the doorbell but the front door opened before he could ring the bell. Lily stood there with a quizzical look on her face. "I saw you through the window," she explained. "What have you got there?" She pointed to the small pet taxi. "Well, let me come inside and I'll show you." Paul edged his way in the front door, past Lily. In the foyer, he set the pet taxi down on the hardwood flooe and took off his charcoal gray overcoat. Rather than hanging it in on the coat tree in the foyer, he tossed it on the bench seat on one wall of the foyer. Lily gave him a look but quickly turned her attention to the pet taxi. She started to lean down to look inside but decided against that and instead picked it up and set it on the table in the foyer. She peered inside and gave a small gasp. "Paul, what is this?" "What does it look like?" he asked in return. "It looks like a black kitten but that can't be. What would you be doing with a black kitten? And don't say you brought it for me. As you well know, I already have a black cat, and Kitty wouldn't take too well to an intruder in her kingdom." Paul laughed at that and said, "Don't worry. I haven't brought you another cat. This is for Gran. The nursing home allows the residents to have pets, and I thought a kitten would be just the thing for her." "But where did you get it? And when?" Lily asked. "Well, one of my neighbors is a vet, and he told me about this litter of kittens that he was trying to find homes for. And it just seemed like it was meant to be. I arranged to pick the kitten up, it's a girl, by the way, this afternoon after we got back from Rivermont. Isn't Gran going to be surprised?" "That's an understatement, Paulie. She's going to be shocked. I'm not so sure this is a good idea. What will you do if she refuses to keep the kitten?" "I don't think there's much chance of that happening. Gran has a soft spot in her heart for every living creature, especially cute little homeless kittens." Lily laughed at that, then Paul continued, "If worse comes to worse and she refuses to keep her, I'll just take her home with me." "Somehow I just can't quite picture you with a pet," Lily said. "You're certainly right about that so let's hope it doesn't come to that. Now, get your coat and we'll be on our way." "But don't I even get to hold the kitten?" Lily asked. "There'll be plenty of time for that at the nursing home. Come on, let's go. I'm starving and I have a craving for some that pizza at Leoni's." Lily insisted on holding the pet taxi in her lap. She wanted to get the kitten out but Paul refused her request, saying it wouldn't be safe driving with a wild animal loose in the truck. Lily groaned at that but didn't insist on holding the kitten. "I hope this works out," Lily said. "I guess it might, especially since the nursing home encourages residents to have pets." A few minutes later, Paul pulled into the parking lot of the Rivermont Nursing Home. He came around to help Lily out with the pet taxi and took possession of it. They both hurried along the sidewalk toward the front entrance. The night air had turned colder and snow flurries had started to fall. Paul held the door to the nursing home open for Lily, then followed her inside to the welcome warmth of the building. The kitten gave a mew and Paul said, "I think she's glad to be inside where it's warm, just like us." They walked the circuitous path to Celia's room, down hallway after hallway. Celia had a corner suite in one of the corners of the building, the farthest away from the main entrance. When they finally reached her suite, the door was ajar and they could hear voices. Paul pushed the door open and stood back to let Lily precede him into the room. To their surprise, Paul's father Robert was there, along with a strikingly beautiful blond woman who looked to be in her forties. Spread out on Celia's dining table was an assortment of deli food from Straub's, an upscale market near the nursing home. Paul and Lily hesitated just inside the door, unsure what to make of the tableau in front of them. Celia, Robert and the woman were seated around the table, and Robert was in the process of unwrapping and setting out the various containers of food. They looked up as Paul and Lily came into the room, then the three stood and came toward the newcomers. Just then, the occupant of the pet taxi gave out a mournful yowl, startling the three people walking toward Paul and Lily. Robert was the first one to speak, saying, "What in God's name is that?" Paul walked over to Celia and held out the pet taxi to her, saying, "I brought you a present, Gran." Celia took the pet taxi gingerly in both hands and asked "A live present? What on earth?" She gently set the pet taxi on the buffet and bent down to peer inside. "Oh, Paulie -- you brought me a kitten." Paul came over to his grandmother's side and reached out to open the door of the pet taxi. He reached inside and gently drew out the shiny coal black kitten and handed her to Celia. "It's a girl," he said. "What's her name?" Celia asked. "That's up to you. She doesn't have a name. One of my neighbors is a vet , this is one of the kittens in a litter that he's trying to find homes for." "Oh Paulie, she's so precious. Thank you so much." Paul heaved a sigh of relief that brought a laugh from Lily. "I was afraid you wouldn't want her," Lily said as she walked over to give Celia a hug and a peck on the cheek. Celia moved toward one of the two sofas in her living room and carefully sat down at one end, holding the kitten in both hands. Lily came over and sat down next to her friend. She leaned over close to Celia and whispered, "Are you sure you're all right with the kitten? Either Paul or I can give her a home if you're not." Celia whispered back, "It's fine, really, it's fine. I'm delighted. I never thought about having a pet here but it will work out, I'm sure." Lily reached out a hand to stroke the kitten, then leaned back into the sofa and once again whispered to Celia. "Who is that woman?" Celia looked at her questioningly then said, "Oh, my goodness. I'm so sorry. I've forgotten any semblance of manners in my excitement over the kitten. Robert, please introduce your friend." Robert turned to Paul and said, "Son, this is the lady I've told you so much about, Cheryl Hancock." Paul joined his Dad and Cheryl where they stood, near the dining table. He reached out a hand to Cheryl and she took his hand in both of hers and shook hands firmly. Robert then took Cheryl's arm and led her over to the sofa where Lily sat and introduced her to Cheryl. "Lily is one of my mother's dearest friends. She's also a close friend of Paul and myself. In fact, she's as close as family." Cheryl perched on the edge of the sofa next to Lily and said, "I'm so pleased to meet you." She looked around the room and at each person in turn, then continued. "This is such a wonderful family, such dear people." "Yes, indeed they are," Lily agreed. She felt somewhat awkward and wasn't sure what to say to this woman who had so clearly made herself at home with Robert Long. But she surmised not his mother and his son. Lily wondered how this was all going to turn out. Celia and Paul were not their usual welcoming selves, and Lily surmised that Robert's attachment to Cheryl Hancock was not well-received by them. Still standing by the sofa, Robert held out a hand to his mother and said, "Let's all sit down and have dinner. I've brought enough food for an army." Celia took Robert's hand and said, "Let me get things set up for my new baby first." Paul took that as his cue to say he had all the supplies necessary for the kitten in his truck. "I'll be right back." A few minutes later, he appeared with a litter box, a bag of litter, a food bowl, a water bowl and a bag of kitten food. Celia and Paul went into her laundry room and set up the litter box in the corner. Paul put the food and water bowls in the kitchenette and filled them both. During this activity, Celia stood nearby holding the kitten and gently stroking her back. When things were ready for her, Celia set the kitten down first in the litter box, which held no interest for her, then next to the food bowl, which definitely was of interest to her. Lily stood in the alcove that led to the kitchen, watching her two friends get the kitten comfortably settled into her new home. They joined her a few minutes and the three of them walked to the dining table and sat. Robert had finished setting out the food, and he invited everyone to dig in, as he put it. He arranged five chairs around the table and Lily found herself sitting next to Cheryl, perhaps not the spot she would have chosen. The woman was certainly beautiful, Lily thought, as she placed a glistening white linen napkin on her lap, wondering where the napkins had come from. She assumed that Celia still kept many of the amenities she'd had in her home. Robert began passing containers of food around, and Lily couldn't help but wonder what Paul and Celia were thinking about this derailment of their dinner plans. Paul had so much been looking forward to pizza and how he was eating pate and brie and a whole assortment of delicacies that were as far from sausagey cheesy pizza as you could get. Lily took a spoonful of most of the containers that came her way, unable to identify some of their contents but willing to be adventurous. As part of her positive approach to live, she had to remember to enjoy each moment and not mentally complain or judge. She caught Paul looking at her and she gave him a wink. She could imagine that he was reading her mind, wondering what the hell they were doing her with this woman who proclaimed herself a psychic. Lily hoped with all her heart that the topic would not come up in conversation. She was concerned that her opinion about psychics might put a real and true damper on the evening's activities. Paul cleared his throat and said, "Well, Dad, this was certainly a different dinner than the pizza feast I'd planned for Gran and Lily. But perhaps this worked out better. I don't know that I would have been able to drag Celia away from the kitten. So all's well that ends well." A few minutes into the dinner, Celia had excused herself and had gone to tend to the kitten. She'd returned after awhile, holding the kitten and had resumed her seat on the sofa. "Mom, don't you want something more to eat?" Robert had asked somewhat anxiously. Lily felt a pang of embarrassment for him , knowing that he wanted so badly for his family to like the guest he'd brought. Lily assumed he could tell that they weren't welcoming her with open arms. "I'm fine, dear. You know I don’t' eat much at a time. I've become quite the grazer, eating my mini-meals all day long." Lily excused herself from the table and came over to sit beside Celia on the sofa. "Well, Miss Celia, have you been thinking about what to name your new little princess?' Lily asked. Celia cocked her head at Lily and said, "Was that a suggestion?" "Was what a suggestion?" Lily responded, confusion in her voice. "Princess, as a name." "No, it wasn't a suggestion," Lily answered. "Well, it should have been because I think it's the perfect name for her. She certainly looks like a Princess to me!" The two women sat in companionable silence, as Celia gently stroked the kitten lying in her lap. In a few minutes, the purring kitten had fallen asleep, Her eyes watching Celia and her tiny new friend, Lily felt rather than saw someone come toward them. She looked up and saw Cheryl Hancock standing in front of her, looking down, making eye contact with her. Lily felt a slight jolt at the woman's gaze. There was an intensity and a focus that puzzled Lily. Cheryl finally broke the extended silence between them, saying, "May I sit next to you?" Lily said, "Of course," although she felt anything but welcoming toward the woman. Cheryl sat down and once again made eye contact with Lily. "I apologize for intruding," Cheryl began. Lily started to protest but then didn't, because actually the woman was speaking the truth. She was intruding. She had intruded on their evening and now she was intruding on Celia and Lily's time together. Cheryl waited a moment before proceeding, as if waiting for Lily to comment. Realizing that Lily wasn't going to say anything, Cheryl gave a small nod and said, "As I said, I'm sorry to intrude. But I feel compelled to talk with you." Cheryl's use of the word "compelled" caused a reaction of resistance in Lily. She didn't know why this woman was sitting here talking to her. She didn't like the woman and didn't want to spend any time with her. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to stand up and walk away. Instead, she sat there, as if pinned to the sofa, unable to escape. She felt foolish thinking she had to escape. Surely this woman was harmless. Why was she reacting so strongly to her? Again, Cheryl waited for some response from Lily but received nothing. She glanced over at Celia but the older woman seemed engrossed in the sleeping kitten and oblivious to what was going on between Cheryl and Lily. Cheryl put her hand over her heart and said, "I feel a connection with you. I see an aura around you. I feel compelled to tell you what I see and feel. There is a deep abiding sadness in you, a miasma of tragedy engulfs you. The darkness surrounding you is palpable and incredibly dense. I don't know you and I don't know anything about you but I sense the depth of your sorrow and pain." The woman's voice was low and hypnotic, and Lily sat mesmerized by the woman's words, unable to speak or react. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Paul walk toward them, and she hoped he was coming to her rescue because she was unable to do anything for herself. "Ms. Hancock, what are you doing?" Paul's voice had an edge of steel in it. He stood in front of Lily and reached out a hand to pull her up. "Come with me, Lily. It's time to leave. Gran, I'll come by to see you tomorrow and help you with the kitten and anything else you need." Paul and Lily gathered up their coats and left without another word to Cheryl or Robert. As they walked out to the Ranger, Lily could feel Paul's anger emanating off him in waves. Inside the pick-up, Paul turned to Lily and said, "I'm so sorry about what just happened. I heard what that woman said to you and it was unforgivable. What could Dad be thinking to bring that woman to see Gran? I don't think I know that man anymore." Paul turned the key in the ignition so hard it caused a grinding noise. He shook his head at himself, then shoved the shift into reverse and backed out of the parking space at the nursing home. He turned onto the street, then pulled over to the curb and stopped. He turned to Lily and said, "My apologies. I don't usually overreact like this. I don't know why I'm so angry over a foolish woman's foolish words." Lily reached out and patted his arm. "It's because you're a good, caring person. But you don't need to be upset on my behalf. I'm a big girl and I can fight my own fights. Although I do actually appreciate your coming to my rescue like you did. That woman rendered me speechless, which as you know is difficult to do." Paul smiled at that and said, "You're a real trooper, Lily. I was so upset that I was going to ask if you could drive home. But your level-headedness has knocked some sense into me so I'm okay to drive." He took a deep breath, clicked on his turn signal and pulled back into the traffic lane. "I don't believe in psychics," Lily said slowly. "At least I don't think I do. I've never had any experience with them and from all I've read, I think they're mostly fakes. However, there was something about that woman. She grabbed my attention and wouldn't let go. I would imagine that a person who was the slightest bit gullible might fall for her act." "I agree. I can't imagine what's going on in Dad's head. I think he's having a really hard time getting over Mom's death. I understand that but somehow he's going off track with this psychic. I've tried talking with him about and so has Gran but neither of us has made a dent in his pigheadedness. I'll certainly talk to him again." "Paul, there's no need to do anything with your father on my behalf. But I do think you and Celia should confront him about his involvement with the woman. He's a very wealthy man and I wouldn't want her taking advantage of him." "Understood," Paul said firmly. They rode in silence for a few minutes, then Lily said, "Well, your surprise gift for Celia was quite a success. Good for you. I think she's doing fine but the kitten provided just the little lift that can make so much difference for her. But please, don't get a kitten for me. Kitty keeps me busy enough and she certainly wouldn't welcome an intruder into her domain." When they arrived at Lily's house, she invited Paul in for a cup of coffee but he begged off, saying he was going to get an early start in the morning and go into the office, even though it was a Saturday of a holiday weekend. "Is there some special case you're working on?" Lily asked, curious about his plans. "I guess you could say that. It's about your granddaughter. Despite the fact that she doesn't seem to want our help or to realize how desperately she needs our help, I intend to do something about her." "Oh, Paulie, I appreciate that but I don't want you spending your weekend that way." Paul said, "It's something I want to do. I'm concerned about what the court system could do to McKenna. She has no idea how her life could be screwed up by the trouble she's gotten herself into." "Well, I appreciate whatever you can do. I'm going to drive in to the St. Louis again tomorrow to visit with her. I'm praying that her attitude toward me will improve. I'm also going to see if Ruth Washington is available tomorrow for a meeting. If not, I can follow up with her next week. She seems to be the only one who has any influence over McKenna, however slight that might be." Chapter 9 Saturday, November 27, 2010 McKenna The morning sun streamed through the hospital room windows, landing on McKenna's bed. She could feel its warmth or at least thought she could. She lay there unmoving, breathing in and out, slowly, steadily. For one brief moment when she awoke, she'd forgotten all of the trouble going on in her life. For that moment, she enjoyed the bright sunshine and the warmth of the room. It had been so long since she felt safe and comfortable and at ease. Then everything came rushing back at her, and she once again felt overwhelmed by the disaster he life had become. She'd never been what she considered a happy person but there had been times in her life when she felt relatively content. But this certainly wasn't one of those times. At the moment, she didn't see how things could get worse. Then she realized what a fool she was being, how ostrich-head-in-the-sand she was being. Of course things could get worse. Actually, she was fairly certain that they would get worse. She could find herself in jail, orange jumpsuit and all. A jolt of rage passed through her at what she considered the inequity of her situation. She hadn't hurt anyone but herself in the accident. Why should the police want to arrest her? It was her own business if she totaled her car. And she hadn't damaged the bridge abutment that she struck – at least she didn't think she had. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. It was her business and nobody else's. She lay there fuming for several minutes, feeling sorry for herself, blaming the world for everything. Then ever so gradually, her anger began to fade away, replaced by the cool light of reason. Who was she kidding? Of course she was in trouble. She was in big trouble. She'd been driving drunk and that was as against the law as you could get. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she thought about what could have happened. She could have died in the crash. She could have hit another car and killed other people. As she contemplated the horror that could have been, more tears came. But this time they weren't so much tears of self-pity as much as they were tears of shame. She'd always condemned drunk drivers, it was a family thing to do. Her parents had instilled in her what her grandmother's drunk driving had done. Her twin brother was dead because of drunk drivers, her grandmother and the man who hit her grandmother's car. How humiliating that she had done the same thing as Lily. As she lay there, her thoughts began to spiral downward, into that dark place that seemed so much a part of her life. She couldn't help thinking of the harsh words that her ex-husband had thrown at her time after time. "You're not here. You're never here. It looks like you're here but that's just some kind of mirage. Because I don't know where your mind goes or where your thoughts go but it's never here with me." At the time, she'd ignored him, thinking he was the crazy one. Of course, she was there. But now she wasn't so sure. She actually didn't feel like she was anywhere. She didn't feel like she belonged anywhere. That was the reason she drank. When she drank, she felt safe, she felt like she belonged somewhere. When she was sober, she could see the foolishness of that belief. But then the demons of loneliness and alienation and separateness took over. When that happened, all she could do was to drink. That gave her relief. Her head had begun to pound, and she felt dizzy and weak. She reached over for the nurse call button when she thought she heard a faint tap on the door. She paused and listened closely and heard the sound again. "Come in," she croaked through a dry and scratchy throat. Across the room, the door slowly opened. At first, McKenna couldn't tell who it was. Then she saw that it Leslie's mother, which was mainly the way she thought of Cheryl Hancock. Leslie had been McKenna's best friend since they were in kindergarten together. At age 10, Leslie had been McKenna's salvation when her brother died. McKenna had turned to Leslie to fill the empty space in her life and in her heart. "McKenna, how are you? I just heard about your accident." Cheryl came over to McKenna's bed and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. "Hi, Cheryl," McKenna said, her voice still raspy from disuse. "Thank you so much for coming. How did you find out about the accident?" "Well, I was trying to contact you about some changes to the website and you weren't answering your e-mail, or cell phone so I drove in to St. Louis so I could go by your apartment. Your neighbor told me about the accident and that you were in Barnes-Jewish, so here I am. I had to come in to the city for a doctor's appointment anyway so it wasn't out of my way." Several years ago, after her daughter Leslie's death, Cheryl had moved from her home in west St. Louis County back to her hometown of Rivermont. Cheryl's mother lived in a nursing home there in Rivermont and being close by meant Cheryl could visit more often. Cheryl pulled up a chair and sat down next to McKenna. She reached out and took McKenna's hand in hers and squeezed it. "I was so upset this morning when I learned about what happened. How are you? That bandage on your head looks frightening." McKenna gave her a small smile and said, "I haven't looked in a mirror for over a week so I have no idea how I look. But I think I'm getting better. They told me at first, it was touch-and-go. I was in a coma and then was really disoriented when I came out of it. I'm still feeling a little woozy. I was just going to call the nurse to get something for my headache when you came to visit." Cheryl nodded and looked around the hospital room for the nurse call button. She found the button, clicked it on and asked the nurse at the desk who answered to send someone to McKenna's room right away. A few minutes later, one of the student nurses came in to help McKenna. After taking her vital signs, she gave McKenna a drink of water, then went to call the doctor to see what he wanted to do. After the student nurse left, McKenna and Cheryl talked for awhile but McKenna didn't share any of the bad stuff that was going on in her life. Somehow she didn't want to disillusion Cheryl, who knew nothing about McKenna's struggled with alcohol or her family traumas. Cheryl had enough to worry about without taking on McKenna's trials. When the doctor came in, Cheryl said her good-byes and promised to come back to visit the next day. The doctor checked her out and wrote an order for a change in her IV and her medication. After he left, McKenna tried to sleep but her mind was whirling with thoughts of Leslie, brought on by Cheryl's visit. She felt the tears well up in her eyes and tried to fight them back. Part of her was afraid that if she gave in to the tears over Leslie at this point in her life, she might not be able to stop. Five years ago, when Leslie died from her congenital heart defect, McKenna had felt as though she'd lost part of her own body -- an arm or a leg. She and Leslie had been best friends since childhood, had even been roommates at college. The two young women had been quite different in personality and interests but somehow had formed such a strong emotional bond that the differences hadn't mattered. They'd graduated from college together and McKenna had started working for an Internet start-up firm, her dream job. After graduation, Leslie had continued her music studies to fulfill her lifelong dream of becoming a concert pianist. She'd left St. Louis to attend one of the premier music conservatories in the U.S., having been awarded a full-ride scholarship. The school was located in San Francisco, and McKenna had managed two trips out to the West Coast to visit her dearest friend. On her last visit, McKenna had been concerned at Leslie's pale complexion and lack of vitality. McKenna had grilled her about her health, and had finally forced Leslie to visit her cardiologist. The doctor had been dismayed at how far Leslie's health had deteriorated. He insisted that she take a leave of absence from the conservatory and return home to St. Louis for treatment. McKenna had extended her stay so that she could accompany Leslie back home. McKenna had tried to keep her panic hidden from Leslie. She couldn't bear the thought of losing her friend but didn't want Leslie to know how deeply worried she was. Leslie's mother Cheryl had been beside herself with worry about her only daughter. Leslie was all the family that she had. The father was long gone, and Leslie was an only child. Cheryl had insisted on flying out to San Francisco so that she could fly back to St. Louis with Leslie and McKenna. The flight to St. Louis was a tense one. Both Cheryl and McKenna put on tenuous faces of good cheer but Leslie was able to see through them. The girls had chatted with each other and with Cheryl but McKenna could see what a struggle it was for her friend to pretend to be all right. When they landed at Lambert Airport, Cheryl insisted on heading directly for the doctor's office, not wanting to stop at home first. Leslie's doctor had immediately hospitalized her, going so far as to put her in the intensive care unit of Barnes- Jewish, the same hospital where McKenna now was. Leslie had never come home from the hospital. The doctor said her heart was so weak that it was amazing she could have even withstood the flight home. He put her name on the national transplant list but privately felt she couldn't survive long enough for a heart to become available. McKenna and Cheryl had spent Leslie's last days with her, taking turns sleeping either in a chair next to Leslie's bed in the ICU or one of the too-short sofas in the waiting room. Periodically, McKenna would go to her apartment to pick up clothes or other necessities and then go to Cheryl's home for the same things. Cheryl couldn't bring herself to step foot out of Barnes-Jewish. She believed that if she left, that would be it for Leslie. Although she'd known Cheryl for more than 20 years, she often felt uncomfortable around Cheryl because of the woman's self-proclaimed psychic abilities. McKenna didn't believe in the paranormal or the supernatural or whatever you wanted to call the woo-woo world. This had been one of the few bones of contentions between Leslie and McKenna. Leslie was convinced her mother possessed psychic abilities and refused to listen to McKenna's protests of disbelief. Leslie claimed to have seen instances of when her mother had been spot on about her visions and predictions. Through the years, Leslie had insisted on sharing those instances with McKenna. She wanted so badly for her friend to believe as she did. But McKenna was immovable in her disbelief of Cheryl's other-worldly abilities. McKenna grew up in a home devoid of any religious belief or church attendance. Cheryl and Leslie were committed church-goers and gave generously of their time and money to the little New Age church close to their home. A couple of times Leslie had dragged McKenna to the church for special events she was involved in. But McKenna had only agreed to attend because of her devotion to Leslie. A few times McKenna had wondered how Cheryl managed to reconcile her psychic abilities with her belief in God. Once when McKenna was spending the night at the Hancock's home, she'd gotten up the courage to ask Leslie about how her mother could believe in two things that seemed diametrically opposed. Leslie in turn had taken McKenna into the living room to talk to Cheryl, who was sitting by the fireplace, simultaneously reading a book, watching a PBS special presentation on TV and petting a sleeping cat on her lap. "Ma, my buddy McKenna has a question for you." Leslie had given McKenna a slight shove to move her toward Cheryl. McKenna had been mortified and embarrassed and had shoved Leslie back, trying to escape from the living room and Cheryl's intent gaze. Cheryl had smiled up at McKenna and said, "What is it, dear?" McKenna felt awful and didn't know what to say. "Go, Mac," Leslie prodded. "Ask her." "What is it you want to ask me, McKenna?" McKenna blushed and began to back away from Cheryl, wanting to get back to Leslie's bedroom and have this all behind her. Leslie, as always, took the bull by the horns and answered for McKenna. "Well, Ma, it's this way. My buddy McKenna wants to know how you can believe in God and also at the same time believe that you have some kind of supernatural powers." "Well, McKenna, that's actually a very perceptive question on your part. It certainly would seem that the two beliefs couldn't peacefully co-exist. But I'm here to say that they do. And the answer is really simple and straightforward. I've always believed, since I was a little girl and discovered that I knew things other people didn't, that my knowing was a gift from God. So for me believing in my psychic gift made it easier and more understandable for me to also believe in God at the same time. All my life, it's as though those two seemingly competing beliefs actually supported and complemented each other. Does that make any sense to you?" "No, ma'am," had been McKenna's hesitant, honest response. Then, gathering up her courage, she continued. "You see, I don't believe in God or psychic powers. I only believe in what I can see with my own eyes and I can't see God and I can't see psychic stuff." Cheryl had started to answer but then decided to let it go, just nodding and smiling at McKenna, then returning to her book. Leslie and McKenna had gone back to Leslie's room, and they'd silently agreed to drop the subject. Cheryl didn't do readings or hold séances or charge a fee for her abilities. She only shared her visions and intuitions with close friends when she felt so moved. She'd told the girls once that there were times when she saw or knew things that she never told anyone about. "There are things," she said, "that would serve no good purpose for people to know. I only tell what I see when I think it might help someone somehow. After all, life is not written in indelible ink. We can change things. We can prevent the future from playing out in certain ways. For example, if I knew I was going to be in a horrific automobile accident on a certain day, I would stay home that day and stay away from cars. In fact, that happened to me once years ago. I saw a vision of me in a car tumbling over an embankment on Valentine's Day. So I stayed home, out of harm's way, that whole day, and that prediction did not come true." McKenna had given a small, derisive snort at what Cheryl said and both Leslie and Cheryl frowned at her. Leslie had told her, "Oh, ye of little faith. One of these days, mom is going to have a prediction about you and we'll see what you say then." Now, lying in the hospital bed, McKenna thought that day had so far never come. Cheryl never spoke to her about anything psychic-related. McKenna appreciated Cheryl's respect for her feelings. She felt a tear trickle down her cheek and brushed it away, wondering which of her many sorrows it represented. At the moment, because of all the memories about Leslie, she thought it was probably Leslie- related. Her best friend's death had been by far the most difficult thing she'd ever confronted in her life. When her brother Jamie died, she was only 10 years old, too young to understand the absolute finality of death. Her mother Traci had died 12 years ago of breast cancer, and McKenna had mourned her loss. But Traci and McKenna had not been close and her while her mother's death had been sad, it had not been devastating, like Leslie's death. After her mother's death, McKenna's father Matt had offered her a home and she'd taken him up on it but not happily or graciously. Matt Mattingly had remarried a couple of years after his divorce from Traci, and McKenna cared nothing for her stepmother. McKenna had been a senior in high school at the time of her mother's death and had kept herself well and truly busy in school activities so that she spent as little time at home as possible. When she went to college, she managed to stay on campus most of the time. She made drop- in visits for holidays but otherwise kept her father and his wife at arm's length. Fortunately for McKenna, she was able to spend a great deal of time with Leslie and her mother. That made all the difference in McKenna's quality of life. They'd stayed in constant touch with the technology of e-mails and text messages. For the last few days of Leslie's life, Cheryl and McKenna had been with her all day and all night. Both of them had adamantly refused to recognize the possibility that Leslie would die. But die she had, at 3:35 a.m. on a summer Saturday morning. Cheryl had been with, sitting in the chair next to her bed, holding her hand. Cheryl had summoned the nurse at the reception desk, then had gone quietly down the hall to the waiting room to break the news to McKenna. McKenna had been sprawled on two chairs shoved together, making a longer bed than the too-short sofa she'd also tried. Cheryl had pulled up a chair next to McKenna's makeshift bed and reached out a hand to touch the girl's shoulder. McKenna had come instantly awake and one look at Cheryl's face told her what had happened. McKenna had tried to cover her sobs but the wracking sounds could be heard up and down the halls of the third floor. For McKenna, Leslie's funeral had been surreal. She put one foot in front of another, said things she couldn't remember to people she couldn't remember. After the funeral, McKenna had gone back to her apartment in downtown St. Louis and buried herself there. She hadn't surfaced from her grief until late in the fall. By the time she was back in the world of the living, Cheryl had left St. Louis. In the fall, Cheryl had contacted McKenna to let her know that she'd moved back to Rivermont, her childhood hometown. Cheryl's mother still lived there, in an assisted living facility. McKenna and Cheryl had talked on the phone every once in awhile. Despite the difference in their ages and interests, staying in touch somehow helped them ease the pain of Leslie's death. Eventually, Cheryl had hired McKenna on a free-lance basis to design and develop a website for the psychic part of her life. Out of her grief over Leslie's death and the ensuing loneliness, Cheryl had turned to her gift and now did readings for selected clients. She never advertised or promoted her business. People came to her on a referral basis by word of mouth. Her business had gained momentum over the years and evolved into a successful although low-key consultancy, as Cheryl called it. Cheryl had expressed her concerns about McKenna's drinking to her many times over the years but to no avail. After Leslie's death, McKenna had turned more and more to the forgetfulness that alcohol provided. Until Leslie's death, McKenna had been an occasional social drinker. But her grief had overwhelmed her and having no family support network, she turned herself over to drinking. After Cheryl left McKenna's hospital room, she took the elevator up to the 12th floor of Barnes, then used the pedestrian overpass to cross over to the high-rise office building where Dr. Rochester, her internist, had his suite of offices. She'd been postponing this appointment for months but now the time had come to bite the bullet and see what was going on. Years ago, Cheryl had developed a bleeding ulcer and had undergone surgery and follow-up treatment with the Barnes-based internist. She made regular trips into St. Louis to see the doctor and really liked his attitude and his support. For the past few months now, she'd been experiencing stomach spasms and cramps and knew she should have come to see Dr. Rochester long before this. In the doctor's office, she signed in at the nurse's desk, then took a seat in the expansive waiting room. Dr. Rochester was one of the leading internists in the city and a stellar member of the staff at Barnes. From the looks of his suite of offices, Cheryl rather suspected that the doctor had had first choice when it came to office facilities and amenities. She looked around the waiting room and saw half a dozen people ahead of her. But she had nothing on her schedule for the rest of the day and didn’t mind the wait. She reached into her tote back and drew out her Kindle, thinking how glad she was that she'd remembered to bring it with her. But instead of powering it on, she just sat there holding it in both hands, feeling a rush of anxiety floor through her. She closed her eyes and took several slow, deep breaths. The anxiety usually signaled the onset of a vision, and she needed to get herself into a receptive state. Still with her eyes closed, she focused her mind on what lay beyond the blackness. Slowly the blackness lightened and she could see figures off in the distance. Then she could smell smoke and hear sirens. One of the figures slumped to the ground and she was shocked to recognize the figure as herself. She felt the sting of tears behind her closed eyes and tried to open her eyelids but nothing happened. The scene in front of her continued to unfold. She saw the fire engines and ambulances, she could see a uniformed paramedic standing over her prostrate body, then kneeling down and beginning CPR. He was joined by another paramedic who was wheeling a gurney. The second paramedic brought with him a portable oxygen tank with a clear plastic oxygen mask attached. The two paramedics lifted Cheryl onto the gurney and one of them fitted the oxygen mask around her head. They rolled the gurney to a waiting ambulance whose lights were flashing and loaded it into the back of the ambulance. One paramedic got into the back with the gurney while the other slammed the door shut and got into the driver's seat and drove off, lights blazing and siren shrieking. Cheryl looked around the scene, trying to identify the location. It looked to her like some kind of nursing home and she realized it was the Rivermont Nursing Home where her mother had lived for years. Flames were shooting out of the roof at one end of the building and smoked poured from shattered windows. Residents of the nursing home were grouped in clusters of wheelchairs on the far side of the parking lot. Snow had begun to fall and she could see the residents shivering in their chairs. Cheryl couldn't tell if her mother were one of the seniors seated in the wheelchairs. She thought she recognized Celia Long, Robert's mother who also lived in the home, standing tall and regal among the wheelchairs, wearing a long black floor-length mink coat. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the vision ended and Cheryl saw only utter blackness behind her eyelids. She opened her eyes and looked around the waiting room, surprised that nothing had changed while she'd been somewhere else. The same people still sat in the same places, doing what they'd been doing when she closed her eyes. An hour later Cheryl was on her way back across the pedestrian crosswalk and into Barnes. She found a bench just on the other side of the crosswalk and sat down there to think about what she'd just heard from Dr. Rochester. During his examination, he'd found a mass in her stomach area. He had expressed concern and had insisted on sending her over to Barnes-Jewish for an immediate series of tests. He personally called the radiology department and arranged for a Doppler echocardiogram, X-rays, and depending on the results of those two procedures, an MRI. As she sat there on the bench, trying to calm her fears, she looked at her watch and saw that she still had almost an hour before she was due in radiology. She decided to go see McKenna again and see if she could be of some help to her friend. She absolutely wasn't going to mention anything about her visit to the doctor and the results of the visit. McKenna had enough on her plate to deal with and Cheryl certainly wasn't going to add to any of her burdens. She took the elevator down to the 3rd floor and walked down the hall to McKenna's room. Everything felt slight off-kilter. She felt as though the hallway was tilting back and forth and she found it difficult to breathe, as though the air was too heavy for her lungs. Outside the door, she hesitated, hearing voices coming from inside the room, one was a man's voice and there was also a woman's voice that wasn't McKenna's. She was surprised to notice that the two voices, for some odd reason, sounded familiar to her. She backed away and stood just inside an alcove next to McKenna's rooms so she could still hear the voices. No matter how intently she listened, she didn't think McKenna was participating in the rather one-sided conversation. A minute later, the door to McKenna's room opened and two people came out. She was shocked to recognize two of the people who had been with her and Robert visiting his mother last night at the Rivermont Nursing Home. The man was Paul, Robert's son and the woman was the family friend, Lily Bannister. Cheryl pressed herself back into the alcove so that they wouldn't notice her. Rather than heading toward the elevator, Paul and Lily had paused in the hall to talk and Cheryl unabashedly eavesdropped. "Paul, it seems hopeless. She won't even talk to us. What are we going to do? If she doesn't let us help her, she's going to end up in jail, or even worse, dead. She won't listen to either of us about this legal trouble she's in for drunk driving, and she certainly won't admit to a drinking problem." Cheryl could see Paul drape his arm around Lily's shoulders and give her a squeeze as he answered. "Well, I'm mot willing to give up. Your granddaughter seems to have inherited your stubborn streak." Cheryl was barely able to restrain herself from gasping out loud at the revelation that McKenna was Lily Bannister's granddaughter. How could she not have known that. But McKenna's name was Mattingly not Bannister. And Leslie and McKenna hadn't become friends until 6th grade, when they were both 12 years old. Cheryl watched Paul and Lily head toward the bank of elevators down the hall. Glancing down at her watch, she saw that she still had half an hour before she was due in radiology. She decided to follow through on her earlier intention to drop in to see if there was anything she could do to help McKenna. And now she knew that her daughter's childhood friend definitely needed help. Drunk driving? A drinking problem? What on earth was going on with McKenna. Cheryl had known that McKenna was unhappy as a girl growing up in a broken home. And she'd known that McKenna was in many ways a troubled young woman. But she'd had no idea that things were this serious. McKenna had never indicated any problems. Cheryl took a deep breath, squared back her shoulders and walked in McKenna's room. She found McKenna sitting up in bed, staring out the window. "Cheryl," McKenna said with a tone of welcome in her voice, "I'm so glad you came back. Our visit was too short before." "That's what I thought, too," Cheryl said, giving McKenna a smile. "So I hung around for a bit, thinking I might get a chance to visit for a few more minutes, and here I am." Cheryl looked closely at McKenna and thought she could detect tear streaks on her face. That might be a good sign. Perhaps McKenna was beginning to realize what trouble she was in. Cheryl pulled a straight-back chair close to McKenna's bed, on the window side. She sat down and reached out to take McKenna's hand. "You know that I love you like a daughter, don't you?" McKenna looked at her, puzzled by the question. "Yes, I guess I know that." Cheryl gave McKenna's hand a squeeze, then let go, leaning back in the chair and closing her eyes. A few moments later, she opened her eyes and looked directly into McKenna's eyes. "I'm going to tell you something I hadn't planned on telling you. But I overheard a conversation in your room earlier and then eavesdropped -- sorry about that -- on a conversation your visitors had out in the hall." "What are you talking about?" McKenna's tone was defensive. "I know I invaded your privacy. But I'm not sorry I did it. McKenna, you need help and it's time you accepted that fact. I won't play the Leslie card but you and I both know if she were still here, you wouldn't be where you are. You wouldn't be drinking, you wouldn't be in trouble with the police." Cheryl paused, watching McKenna, trying to gauge her reaction to her words. McKenna's face was stony, closed. She was staring across the room, not meeting Cheryl's eyes. Cheryl took a deep breath, then began to speak in a soft voice. "After I leave here, I'm on my way to radiology for a battery of tests. My doctor found a mass in my abdomen that he doesn't like the looks of. I'm not sure what lies ahead of me. But one thing I do know is that I need you." She once again reached for McKenna's hand but the younger woman pulled away. She turned her head and wouldn't look at Cheryl. The older woman sat there, looking at McKenna with compassion in her expression. She understood McKenna's rejection of her words. McKenna would not be able to accept any illness on Cheryl's part. McKenna had dealt with so much loss and death in her life. Cheryl sat there quietly for a few minutes, then stood, leaned over to kiss McKenna on the forehead before leaving the room. Out in the hall, she leaned against the wall, sad that her friend had been unable to be a friend to her. Straightening up, she squared her shoulders and headed toward the elevator. Radiology was in the lower level of the hospital and she pressed the LL button on the elevator. No one else was in the elevator, and she was glad to have it to herself. What she had hoped for with McKenna hadn't happened. She'd hoped to break through the wall McKenna had erected around herself. But no such luck. Cheryl pondered what to do next about her young friend. Some solution would come to her, she knew. In the meantime, she would put her concentration on her own situation. She'd been shocked at what the doctor had discovered. All her life, she'd been unusually healthy, something she'd prided herself on. Her good health had been in deep contrast to Leslie's fragile health. There had been so many times when Cheryl had wished she could somehow infuse Leslie with her own health genes. The elevator reached the lower level and the doors whooshed open. Cheryl stepped out into the hallway and looked around for a sign indicating radiology. Chapter 10 Saturday, December 4, 2010 Lily After their fruitless visit to McKenna, Lily and Paul took the elevator down to Ruth Washington's office. Lily had called the social worker that morning before they left Rivermont. Lily told her they wanted to talk with her about next steps for McKenna, and Ruth had gladly agreed to see them. Paul knocked on Ruth's office door, then opened it when he heard her soft, "Come in." She was seated behind the desk, staring off into the distance. Lily took over, knowing that Paul had once again forgotten the woman's name and said, "Miss Washington? It's Lily Bannister and Paul Long." Ruth stood up and gestured toward the chairs in front of her desk. "Yes, hello. Please sit down." Paul and Lily sat and so did Ruth. "We've just come from seeing McKenna," Lily began. "And if it's possible, this was the worst visit of all. She wouldn't talk to us, wouldn't even look at us. We're at our wit's end and are hoping you know of some way to reach McKenna." "Hmmm," was Ruth's response. "Well, I too visited with McKenna today, and I had a bit more luck, but not much. I went to see her shortly after she had a visit from a friend, a first according to the nurse's station. Until then, the two of you were her only visitors. I was quite surprised that McKenna would share anything with me but share she did. Evidently the woman who came to visit means a great deal to her. She was the mother of McKenna's best friend, who died several years ago. Their mutual loss has been quite a strong bond between them. I think McKenna really cares about this woman. McKenna said that in many ways the woman had been like a surrogate mother to her. She spent a lot of time at her friend's house and the mother treated her almost like a daughter. So I'm thinking this woman may be able to help us. I didn't get her name from the visitors' log at the nurse's station but I can certainly follow up on that." Lily said, "Well, at least that's something. And at least she shared that with you. I think that's a good sign. It may also mean that you could be of more help than you thought you might be." "Yes, I'm thinking the same thing. By the way, I talked with McKenna's doctor and he thinks she may be well enough to be discharged on Monday." Ruth then added, "Of course, you know what that means." Paul answered, "Yes, it means she'll have to appear before a judge and answer to the charges filed against her." "If you think it will help, I'd be happy to accompany you all to McKenna's hearing." Lily smiled and said, "Oh, Miss Washington, that would be so kind of you. And I'm certain that it will help. Don't you agree, Paul?" "Yes, it will help. I'm thinking that we can just gently force McKenna to accept our help. On Monday, we'll show up and escort her over to the courthouse. I do think she'll realize she has no choice but to go along with us." Chapter 11 Friday, December 3, 2010 Paul Paul and Lily arrived at Barnes-Jewish Hospital at a few minutes past 8 on Monday morning. They went first to Ruth Washington's office and then up to McKenna's room. Ruth had come in early that morning, at 7, and had already been to McKenna's room to help her pack and get ready to be discharged. By the time they arrived at McKenna's room, the doctor had already been by on morning rounds and had signed McKenna's discharge. McKenna was standing by the window when they entered the room and at first, didn't turn around. Finally, Ruth said, "McKenna, your grandmother and Mr. Long are here." At those words, McKenna turned around and looked at her three visitors. She hesitantly said a "Good morning," in their direction. Paul and Lily glanced quickly at one another, amazed at this breakthrough. They both wondered what miracle Ruth Washington had accomplished. A nurse came to the door pushing a wheelchair. Rather self-consciously, McKenna got into the wheelchair. Paul picked up the plastic bags that held McKenna's possessions, and the group proceeded out of the room and down the hall to the elevator. It was a rather silent trip down to the lobby, with the nurse and Ruth Washington chatting about the weather. Paul, Lily and McKenna were silent. Down in the lobby, Paul excused himself to go get Lily's Escape. His little Ranger wouldn't have accommodated the four of them. He'd parked in the visitor lot adjacent to the front entrance so was only gone a couple of minutes. He drove up to the porte-cochere entrance and parked, leaving the engine running. He opened the rear door of the Escape and helped first Ruth and then McKenna into the back seat. He opened the front passenger door for Lily and helped her in, then stowed the plastic bags in the back compartment of the Escape. The courthouse was only a few blocks away but rush hour traffic was heavy, as Paul knew it would be, and it took almost half an hour to drive three blocks. During the drive, there was no conversation. Paul had the radio tuned to KMOX, and the four of them listened intently to the drive-time traffic report, the local and national news, and then the calendar of upcoming sporting events. Paul grinned as he thought about how none of them wanted to talk. This had to be the most uncomfortable three blocks any of them had ever traveled. Paul let the three women out in front of the courthouse, then drove around the building and into the eight-story parking garage, a new addition to the St. Louis landscape. He quickly parked the Escape o the fourth level and rode the garage elevator down to the ground level. The women had walked up the broad concrete steps in front of the courthouse, with Lily gently guiding Ruth up the steps. Inside the lobby, Paul found the women sitting in one of the sitting alcoves, still not talking. That was amazing to him. Lily was quite the talker and he was surprised she wasn't at least chatting with Ruth. Paul walked up to the group and said, "We'd best go into the courtroom. The judge that's conducting hearing this morning is compulsively punctual. She starts on time and she doesn't tolerate late-comers to the courtroom. In fact, she's been known to bar their entrance if they're late, and that would be bad for your case, McKenna." Paul looked at McKenna as he spoke, hoping for some response or reaction from her but got nothing. The three women stood up and followed Paul as he made his way through the crowd in the lobby to one of the courtrooms on the first floor of the courthouse. Once again, Lily gently guided Ruth. And once again, McKenna ignored all of them, as if they weren't even there. Inside the courtroom, Paul directed Lily and Ruth to the left side of the room, saying, "why don't you find seats as close to the front as you can. The first few rows are roped off and reserved for defendants and their attorneys, but after that, it's open seating. Paul watched as Lily led Ruth up the side aisle of the courtroom. The two women sat on the end of the row directly behind the reserved section. Paul took McKenna's arm and led her down the center aisle of the courtroom and took a seat in front of Lily and Ruth. He put his briefcase down on the floor, then turned to talk with the women behind him. "There's quite a crowd today. We're about halfway down the docket so it's going to be awhile. Unfortunately, if you have to leave the courtroom for any reason, you won't be able to return. Judge Hathaway has her own set of rules, and we all have to rigidly adhere to them. Or at least that's what I've heard. I've never been in one of her courtrooms before." Just then, a uniformed bailiff stood up from a table at the side of the courtroom adjacent to a door. "All rise." The spectators, attorneys and defendants in the courtroom rose, almost in unison. The bailiff spoke again, his voice booming out through the courtroom. "The Honorable Judge June Hathaway presiding." Paul saw a tall, austere-looking woman in black robes enter through the door next to where the bailiff stood. She strode to the raised desk overlooking the courtroom. Paul thought strode was the only word to describe her progression across the courtroom. Her posture was almost painfully erect. He wondered for a moment if she were wearing some kind of back-brace because her back was so straight and rigid. She ascended the two steps at the side of the desk and stood in front of her chair, a huge black leather thing. She gazed out over the courtroom, and Paul felt as thought she were memorizing each of the hundreds of faces out there. Finally, she sat, and the bailiff boomed out, "Be seated." The spectators sat, as did the bailiff. "Good morning," the judge said. "My name is Judge Hathaway, and I will be presiding over today's proceedings. Just a few housekeeping details before we get started." The judge picked up a sheet of paper lying on the massive desk, at which she sat and began reading. "First, there will be no outbursts from the spectators, including no clapping, stamping of feet, shouting, whistling, singing, hooting, etc. In other words, all spectators will be absolutely silent." Judge Hathaway cleared her throat, looked around the packed courtroom, then continued. "Second, if a spectator needs to leave the courtroom for any reason, said spectator will not be allowed back in the courtroom. If an attorney or defendant needs to leave the courtroom, said attorney or defendant will first confer with me and receive permission to vacate the courtroom." Paul shuddered inwardly, thinking that the actuality of Judge June Hathaway was light years worse than her rumored reputation. He wished he'd visited the men's room before entering the court. He just couldn't conceive of asking the judge for permission to wee-wee. "Third," came the droning voice of the judge, Attorneys will address the court as 'Your Honor' and will request permission to speak. Defendants must have their attorneys request permission of the court for them to speak." "Fourth, we will have one morning break at exactly 11:15 a.m. We will break for lunch between 12:30 p.m. and 1:30 p.m. At 3:15 p.m., we will have our one afternoon break. Court will adjourn at precisely 5 p.m., no earlier and no later." She put the paper back down on the desk and looked out at the courtroom. "It's important for everyone in this room to understand that I run a tight ship, and I will not tolerate any deviances. If you can abide by those restrictions, we'll get along fine." She gave the spectators a wide but phony- looking smile, then turned to the bailiff and said, "Bailiff, you may call the first case." Judge Hathaway proceeded to rip her way through 10 hearings without pause. Paul was surprised to see that despite her imposing demeanor and rigorous rules, she seemed to render her decisions as to the disposition of the cases presented to her in a fair and equitable manner. He'd been worried about McKenna's chances but he began to think the judge might look favorably on her guilty plea and throwing herself on the mercy of the court. Of the 10 cases presented, nine of them had the attorney make the plea and do the speaking. That was what Paul intended to do. He didn't want McKenna so much as opening her mouth. He was afraid of what she might say if she did. McKenna's case was number 17 on the docket. As the bailiff called out the case number and McKenna's name, Paul and McKenna stood up and approached the bench. The bailiff read the charges and the judge stared expressionless at McKenna. The judge spoke, saying, "How does the defendant plead?" Paul saw McKenna begin to open her mouth and he squeezed her arm and spoke over whatever she'd been about to say. "Ms. Mattingly pleads guilty to the charges against her and wishes to throw herself on the mercy of the court." The judge glared at McKenna, then looked down at the case file and flipped through the pages. “I see this is the defendant’s first offense.” “Yes, your Honor,” Paul answered. “Mr. Long , it is Mr. Long?” the judge asked. “Yes, your Honor,” Paul answered. “I’m curious. What is your recommendation for your client?” the judge asked. Paul was taken aback by the judge’s question but tried not to show his surprise. “Your Honor, because it’s Ms. Mattingly’s first offense, I would recommend a suspended sentence, with five years on probation plus 1,000 hours of community service. I would also recommend committing her to an alcohol rehabilitation program, plus mandatory attendance at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. And finally, I would recommend remanding c. Mattingly into the custody of her grandmother.” The judge, head down, was writing as Paul was speaking, “Is that it, Mr. Long?” “Yes, your Honor,” Paul answered. The judge nodded and looked down at the notes she’d made. “Mr. Long, is Ms Mattingly’s grandmother in the courtroom today?” “Yes, your Honor,” Paul answered. “She’s sitting in the row behind us. Her name is Lily Bannister.” The judge looked past Paul to where Lily and Ruth Washington sat. “Mrs. Bannister, would you please approach the bench?” Lily nodded and stood, then made her way around the row of spectators and across the front of the courtroom. She stopped in front the judge’s desk and looked up expectantly, saying, “Yes, your Honor?” The judge switched off the microphone, then motioned Lily to step closer to the desk. “Mrs. Bannister, are you willing and able to take responsibility for your granddaughter?” “Yes, your Honor, I certainly am.” “And would you be able to oversee the enforcement of the alcohol rehabilitation, the community service, the attendance at AA meetings?” “Yes, your Honor, I would certainly be able to do that.” “Mrs. Bannister, excuse me for the politically incorrect question, but may I ask how old you are?” “I’m 70 years old, your Honor.” “I see. You appear to be in good health.” “Yes, your Honor, I’m in extremely good health, and I’m physically active My doctor tells me I have the physical condition of someone 20 years younger. Also your Honor, I regularly attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings and understand the importance of sobriety.” “As do I, as do I.” was the quite unexpected response of the judge but which was heard only by Lily and perhaps by the bailiff seated nearby. “I see,” Lily said softly, understanding what the judge was doing. “I assume you’re retired, Mrs. Bannister,” the judge said. “Not exactly, your Honor. I’m a writer , actually.” “Oh?” the judge said with interest. She looked down at McKenna’s case file, then said to Lily. “Thank you for your time and your candor, Mrs. Bannister. You may be seated.” Lily made her way back to her seat, giving Paul and McKenna a quick smile as she passed by them. The judge made a few more notes, then turned the microphone back on. “Ms. Mattingly, please approach the bench.” The judge then once again turned off the microphone. Paul cringed inwardly, afraid of what McKenna would say to the judge. He gave her a gentle nudge and she walked up close to the judge’s desk. Judge Hathaway looked at McKenna for a moment, then asked in a soft voice. “Ms. Mattingly, would you be able to bide by the recommendations Mr. Long made on your behalf?” Paul held his breath, sure that McKenna was now going to blow the whole thing. Just please, please keep your mouth shut, McKenna, he begged silently. Chapter 12 Friday, December 3, 2010 Lily "Thank you, your Honor," Paul said, giving McKenna a nudge. Head down, eyes on the floor, McKenna said in a low, barely perceptible voice, "Thank you." The judge called out "Bailiff, call the next case." Paul led McKenna back to where Lily and Ruth Washington were seated. "Congratulations, McKenna," Lily said, reaching out a hand and putting it on McKenna's arm. McKenna glared at her grandmother, then turned away. Lily turned to Paul and said a simple "Thank you." "Happy to help," Paul replied. "You know I'd do anything in the world for you." McKenna pointedly ignored their conversation, looking off toward the courtroom door. Lily turned to Ruth and said, "We'll drop you back at the hospital. Thank you so much for your help and support." The four of them walked down the side aisle and moved toward the courtroom door. Paul led the way, then Lily, then McKenna, with Ruth bringing up the rear. Part of Lily was concerned that McKenna would bolt, would make a run for it. The girl had nowhere to go but still Lily couldn’t' believe that they were ever going to get her back to Lily's home in Rivermont. Paul told the ladies to wait in the lobby while he retrieved Lily's Es ape from the court parking garage. The three women stood there, silent, each occupied with her own thoughts. Finally, after a few minutes of a strained and awkward silence, Ruth said, "McKenna, I hope you know how fortunate you are that your grandmother and Paul were able to pull this off for you. When we walked into this courtroom, I was convinced that the judge would hold you over for trial. Whatever your grandmother said to the judge or whatever impression she made, was a lifesaver for you, and I mean that in the literal sense of the word. I've not talked with you about your drinking but just let me say this. You were headed down a road where death lay at the end. I hope you'll come back to visit me someday and be able to tell me of your sobriety, of how you turned your life around." McKenna said nothing in response to Ruth. Once again, there was an awkward silence among the three women, broken only by Paul's light signal on the horn to let them know he was parked in front of the courthouse. In the Escape, Lily sat in the front passenger seat, with McKenna and Ruth in the back seat. A few minutes later, Paul pulled up into the entrance at Barnes Jewish. He put the Escape into park, then got out and opened the back door where Ruth was sitting. He helped her down out of Escape and walked her in to the lobby of Barnes. He patted her arm in farewell and then was surprised at the hug she gave him. Back in the Escape, Paul said to Lily, "She's such a nice woman." Lily shook her head in amusement. "Too bad you can't ever remember her name," chuckling as she said it. "I don't know what that's all about," Paul replied. "I'm not usually that bad with names." "Well, dear boy, actually you are. Why else do you think you hardly ever address anyone by their name?" Paul thought for a moment, then said, "I guess you're right. But don't let it go to your head." Their next stop was McKenna's apartment to pick up her things. McKenna lived in a loft apartment on Laclede's Landing and Paul and Lily were fascinated with the architecture and the ambiance of the neighborhood. Paul parked the Escape in a public lot across the street from McKenna's apartment building, and they walked toward the apartment. "We'll have to come back here sometime and sightsee," Lily said. "It's charming. I love the cobblestones and being so close to the river. Still there was mostly silence from McKenna. She'd given Paul her address and terse but easy-to-follow directions on how to find the apartment but that was all she said. The three of them rode the elevator, once again in silence. Inside the apartment, Lily asked if she could help and was rewarded with a brisk, "No," from her granddaughter. Without invitation, Paul and Lily walked into the living room area of the loft and sat down on matching red easy chairs. Lily glanced around, liking what she saw. The furniture was more modern than her taste but it was lovely. She'd been dreading coming in here, fearful that it would be a dump and that it would embarrass McKenna for them to see that she lived in a mess or worse, squalor. But it was far from a mess. A few items of clothing were strewn on the long sofa and books and newspapers were on the massive coffee table in front of the sofa, but it only gave the room a lived-in look, not a messy one. They could hear sounds of McKenna rummaging through drawers, with some slamming sounds involved. Then there was the rattle and clatter of hangers. A few minutes later, McKenna emerged from what they assumed was her bedroom pulling a suitcase on wheels behind her. Slung over her shoulder was a large duffel bag that looked crammed-full. Paul stood up and took the duffle from McKenna and took the handle of the rolling suitcase. "Anything else?" he asked. McKenna looked around the loft and shook her head, saying "No," then adding, "but I need to stop at my next door neighbor's place and let her know I'll be away for awhile." She turned to Lily and said, "Could you write down your phone number and address so I can give it to her?" Lily reached into her purse and pulled out a business card and handed it to McKenna. "Here's what you need." McKenna took the card, then headed out the front door, Lily and Paul trailing behind. Out in the hall, McKenna turned down a corridor and knocked on the door at the end of the hall. A moment later, the door opened and they could see a woman in a wheelchair sitting there. She and McKenna talked for a few minutes, then McKenna leaned down and hugged the woman. They talked a few moments more, the McKenna joined Paul and Lily. They once again rode the elevator in silence and Lily was thinking how much she hated her granddaughter not talking. She realized that the woman had never called her anything, not grandmother, not Lily, nothing. And the same went for Paul and Ruth. Lily feared there was something seriously wrong with McKenna's life skills or lack thereof. Within a few minutes, they were on the highway, headed back toward Rivermont. Paul turned on the radio to the new jazz station that had just gone on the air. "I hope this one will last," he said to Lily. "Me, too," she agreed. "Now if we can only get a classical music station, we'll be set." They drove along in silence, Paul and Lily enjoying the music. McKenna was silent the whole way back to Rivermont, pretty much as Paul and Lily had expected. Every once in awhile, one of them would glance over his or her shoulder at McKenna but she never returned the look. Mostly she sat there with her eyes closed, a stony, unresponsive look on her face. Lily was beginning to feel that this was going to be a more difficult situation than she'd first anticipated. For the past few days, she'd kept thinking McKenna would begin to accept her, would begin to accept the help she and Paul were trying to give. But there had been no indication of that, no crack in the rigid demeanor of rejection McKenna gave off. Lily couldn't even imagine a whole day with McKenna and her unresponsiveness, her silence, her rejection of anything and everything Lily said or did. This could very quickly become unbearable, Lily thought. By the time they reached the outskirts of Rivermont, it was past lunchtime. Paul whispered to Lily, "Should we stop for lunch?" She shook her head and whispered back, "No, that would be too uncomfortable with no cooperation. I have some soup at home. Will you stay for lunch?" "No, thank you. I've had enough of the silent treatment to last a long time. I need to get back to the office anyway. I have a client coming later this afternoon, and I need to do some prep work." Lily grinned over at him, and he grinned back. He whispered, "You're thinking something like, lucky dog, to be escaping from this uncomfortable mess." Lily laughed but didn't reply. Paul pulled the Escape into Lily's driveway and opened the doors for both women, then retrieved the plastic bags holding McKenna's belongings from the back of the Escape. Lily unlocked the front door of her bungalow and stood aside to let an obviously reluctant McKenna go inside. Lily went in next, followed by Paul. As usual, Kitty greeted her guests, winding her blackness around their ankles, paying particular attention to the stranger in her midst, To Lily's and Paul's shock, McKenna reached down a hand to pat Kitty on the back of the head, as she said, "Hi there, kitty. You're a friendly one." Kitty had looked up at McKenna and gave her a welcoming meow. Then she bent over and picked up the cat, stroking her back and murmuring soft words of praise for how beautiful the cat was. Lily, surprised at McKenna's seeming affection for the cat, wasn't sure how to react. Paul, however, had no such qualms. "Well, McKenna, it looks like you have a friend there." McKenna as usual made no response, but Paul ignored her lack of cooperation, and reached out to pet Kitty. He was surprised that McKenna didn't pull away. "I'm off," Paul said in Lily's direction. "Call if you need something. I'll be at my office till about 3, then I'm meeting with a client at his office." Lily came over and gave Paul a peck on the cheek, and said, "Thank you so much for everything you've done for McKenna. We both appreciate your help.' Paul nodded and left. Lily and McKenna stood there in the hallway, McKenna still holding Kitty. "Well," Lily said, "let's get you settled, McKenna, and then we'll have lunch. Follow me and I'll show you your room." She picked up the plastic bags containing McKenna's belongings that Paul had brought in and set on the floor of the entry hall. McKenna set Kitty down and reached out to take the bags from Lily. Lily tried to hide her surprise and pleasure at this gesture, however small, from her granddaughter. Lily turned around and walked through the entry hallway and made a left turn, McKenna following behind. There was a stairway leading up to a small attic room. Lily loved this upstairs room but had long ago stopped using it, not wanting to chance a fall on the stairs. Her bedroom and officer were now on the first floor, and she'd made her peace with no longer using the upstairs. Lily opened the door at the top of stairway, reached in to turn on the overhead light, then stepped back for McKenna to precede her into the room. She was delighted to hear McKenna's gasp of surprise when she saw the room. The room took up the length of the house and had dramatic vaulted ceilings and striking decorations. This room had been Lily's first renovation when she bought the house. The combination bedroom/study had been Lily's refuge until just a few years ago when she decided that stairs might someday prove to be no friend of hers. McKenna walked slowly around the room, Kitty trailing behind her. "This is amazing," McKenna said, almost against her will. She touched the soft blue down comforter covering the king-sized bed, then went over to look out the windows that covered one of the walls. "I've never seen anything so lovely. Why isn't this your room?" Lily was taken aback by McKenna's question. She'd quickly become accustomed to McKenna's lack of response and now had to do an abrupt about face to be able to cope with comments and questions from her granddaughter. "It was my room, for the longest time. I loved it. But a couple of years ago, I thought better of the stairs. I didn't want to chance taking a tumble. So now my room and my office are on the first floor. I still miss this room but common sense reigns in my life now." McKenna looked at her grandmother, absorbing what the woman had just said. She again started to walk around the room, examining each piece of furniture, the wall hangings, fingering the books in the bookcases. "I love this room – it couldn't be more perfect," the words were said softly but Lily felt their sincerity. "I was hoping you would love it as much as I did. I'm happy to have someone here to enjoy the room." Lily felt a sting of tears in her eyes, feeling the sorrow of advancing years that took away the ability to do all the things she was once able to do. She'd never realized what old age meant but now it was becoming clear that it meant she would be less and less herself, less able to do all the things she'd once taken for granted. Blinking back her tears, Lily said, "I'm going to go heat up some soup for our lunch. Why don't you get yourself settled and come down when you’re ready?" Lily walked out of the room and closed the door softly behind her. Chapter 13 Friday, December 3, 2010 McKenna McKenna knew she should have answered Lily, should have said okay, or all right or I'll be down in a minute. But for the life of her, she was barely able to talk to Lily or Paul or Ruth Washington. It was as though her throat was frozen and the words wouldn't come out, no matter how hard she tried. She'd been shocked at being able to say a couple of fairly normal-sounding sentences to Lily about this gorgeous room. Why had she been able to do that but not give Lily the simple courtesy of answering a question. McKenna walked over the king-sized bed and perched on its edge. She put her hand on the pale blue down comforter, brushing her fingers over its softness. She could tell that this room had been created with love and caring and exquisite taste. She slowly shook her head and felt the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. She had screwed up her life big-time. And she didn't know if she was ever going to be able to unscrew it. Despite all the negative things about her grandmother that her parents had told her over the years, McKenna didn't hate the woman. In fact, she was intrigued by her. She like her quiet demeanor and thought there must be such depth to the woman's personality. She'd also liked Paul Long, despite the wretched way she'd treated him. She felt like a prisoner locked inside an evil woman's body, when she was herself actually a nice, fairly normal person. You'd never know it by her behavior with Lily and Paul and Ruth. Without thinking about what she was doing, she leaned back on the bed and closed her eyes. She hadn't slept well at all at the hospital, even with sleeping pills. Within moments, she was sound asleep. Sometime later, she heard a faint tapping noise. She opened her eyes and couldn't figure out where she was and what she was doing there. She sat up too quickly and felt her head begin to spin. For a moment, she stayed rigidly still, hoping the dizziness would go away. She heard the tapping noise again and realized it must be Lily knocking on the door. With the dizziness was gone, she called out in a croaky, sleep-filled voice, "Come in." Lily slowly opened the door and peeked her head in. "Is everything all right?" she asked in a soft voice. "Mmmhmm," McKenna murmured. "I fell asleep." "Oh," Lily said. "Do you want me to let you sleep a little longer? I can heat up the soup later if you do." "No, I'll come down now." McKenna heard herself say in a somewhat unfriendly sounding tone. What was wrong with her? Why did everything that came out of her mouth sound so mean? Without replying, Lily gently closed the door. McKenna stood up, stretched and then went into the bathroom that adjoined the room. She went to the bathroom, washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, and shook her head ruefully She'd gone without make-up or moisturizer or face cream for almost two weeks now, and her complexion showed the ravages of that neglect. Dark circles under her eyes stood out as her most prominent facial feature. Her hair hadn't been properly washed in the past two weeks. The nurses at Barnes had used some kind of dry shampoo stuff that made things worse instead of better. McKenna decided there wasn't much she could do right now. She rummaged through her suitcase for her make- up bag, then dabbed on some lipstick, eyeliner and mascara and quickly ran a brush through her hair. She decided that after she'd eaten some lunch, she'd take a shower and properly wash her hair. She'd also put on some make-up to get rid of her washed-out look. She opened the bedroom door and went out in the hallway that led to the stairs. She saw a door opposite the stairs and wondered what lay behind it. Perhaps later she'd investigate. Suddenly, recognizing her interest and curiosity, she realized she was feeling halfway decent for the first time in forever. That thought brought a quick flicker of a smile to her lips that just as quickly disappeared. She took the stairs one at a time, still feeling a bit wobbly. She'd gotten so little exercise during the past two weeks that her legs felt week and achy. She wondered if Lily had a treadmill or any workout equipment but dismissed that notion as farfetched. What would a 70-year-old woman be doing with kind of stuff? At the bottom of the stairs, she paused, a bit disoriented. She hadn't paid much attention when she followed Lily up the stairs. She wasn't sure whether to turn right or left to find the kitchen. She turned right and headed through an open doorway, realizing too late that it had been the wrong turn. She found herself in another bedroom, this one almost as lovely although not as dramatic as the one upstairs. She took a quick look around, appreciating the swooping window treatments with the matching duvet covering the king-sized bed. Again, one of the walls was all windows, with a built-in room length padded window seat. The windows overlooked what seemed to be a garden, but it was hard to tell in November what would be there in spring and summer. She thought she'd better skedaddle out of here. She didn't want Lily to find her snooping around on her first day as a guest in her grandmother's home. Turning quickly, she almost fell, a rush of dizziness spinning through her. She reached out to hold onto something and accidentally knocked over a bottle of perfume that had been sitting close to the edge of the dressing table. Fortunately, the bedroom floor was carpeted so the bottle didn't break. McKenna reached down to pick it up, still holding onto the dressing table because of her dizziness. She was surprised to see that it was her favorite perfume – Chanel #5. What a coincidence. She put it carefully back on the dressing table and quickly walked out of the room. She headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. This time she ended up in the kitchen, her original desired destination. Lily was standing in front of the sink, rinsing a soup bowl under the faucet. She heard McKenna's footsteps and turned around, with a welcoming smile on her face. "There you are," she said. "Have a seat there." She pointed at the built-in booth in one corner of the kitchen. A place was set with a flowered place mat, a glass of ice water, and a plate of crackers and cheese. McKenna sat down and waited as Lily place a bowl of what looked like steaming hot homemade vegetable soup in front of her. Lily walked over to the sink counter and picked up a mug and carried it back over to the booth and set it down at the place opposite McKenna. "Would you like tea or coffee?" Lily offered. "Water is fine," McKenna replied, picking up her spoon and dipping it into the soup. Lily sat down and watched McKenna as she ate. "I thought we might go grocery shopping this afternoon, if that's all right with you. I'd like to buy some of the things you especially like." Her mouth full, McKenna just nodded. Lily continued the somewhat one-sided conversation. "There's a delightful grocery store not too far from here. It's family-owned and they specialize in an interesting selection of groceries. The owners have become friends of mine and it's always a pleasure to do my shopping there -- quite a difference from the super mart super grocery stores that don't have that personal touch." McKenna had finished the soup, drunk some ice water, and eaten cheese and crackers. She pushed the soup bowl away and head down, said, "Thank you. That was good." :Lily smiled at this small step toward civility by her granddaughter. "You're welcome, my dear. I want you to feel at home here." Lily wanted to say so much more to McKenna but knew this wasn't the time yet. Hopefully, the day would come when Lily could tell her how much it meant to her have McKenna there. Lily stood up and started to pick up McKenna's dishes but McKenna stood also, saying, "I can wash those. You don't have to wait on me." Lily nodded and sat back down, further encouraged by McKenna's words. Half an hour later, the two women were bundled up and in the Escape, ready for their shopping trip. Lily turned on the radio to the jazz station they'd been listening to on their trip back to Rivermont from St. Louis. "Okay?" Lily asked McKenna. "Sure," came McKenna's noncommittal response. It took less than five minutes to reach the grocery store, named Fieldings. It was located on a well-traveled street and the parking lot was nearly full. Lily retrieved a handful of shopping bags from the back of the Escape. Inside the store, Lily selected a shopping cart and headed down the first aisle, which contained the bakery, McKenna trailing behind. "Now for my first question, what kind of bread do you prefer?" "It doesn't matter. Get whatever you usually do." The answer was the same when Lily asked about coffee cakes, desserts and cookies. McKenna would express no preference, and Lily had the feeling that McKenna was not going to be an easy shopping companion. They walked down aisle after aisle, in silence. Lily had given up asking McKenna about her preferences. Lily selected the things she liked and hoped at least some of them would be things McKenna would enjoy. At the butcher counter, Lily got into a conversation with Mac, the head butcher who'd worked at Fieldings for since before Lily had begun shopping there. McKenna stood off to one side, idly glancing around the store, agreeing with Lily's assessment that it had the personal touch. Lily's animated conversation with the butcher was proof of that. To McKenna's surprise, her cell phone began to ring. She flipped it open and saw that it was Paul Long. Her heart began to pound from fear that something had gone wrong with her court case. ON the fifth ring, just before the call went to voice mail, McKenna said a breathless "Hello?" "McKenna, it's Paul Long." "Yes?" "How are you doing?" he asked. "Okay," she answered. "I'm standing in Fieldings by the meat counter, while Lily talks to the butcher." "That's Mac," Paul said, and McKenna could hear laughter in his voice. "It might take awhile." He paused, then continued, "I was calling to see if I could drive you to your first AA meeting tonight." McKenna didn't know how to answer. It was seemingly a kind offer but it also felt like pressure, like he was checking up on her. But maybe that was how he saw his responsibility. Finally she said a grudging, "I guess." "Okay, then. I'll pick you up about 6:30. The meeting at the Catholic Church down the street from Lily's house starts at 7. See you then." He hung up, not giving her a chance to reply. She wondered if that was because he was afraid she would refuse to go. Well, it seemed to be a done deal so she might as well suck it up. Deep in her heart she knew and understood that something close to a miracle had occurred in court today. And it was a miracle that she could attribute to two earth-bound angels: Paul Long and her grandmother. She hadn't asked Lily about her talk with Judge Hathaway, and Lily hadn't volunteered any details. But McKenna could only assume that whatever Lily said had influenced the judge's decision. And Paul -- he was a miracle-working lawyer if she'd ever seen one. Professional, thorough, empathetic, he was all those things. And how devoted he was to her grandmother. He was the only family she had. She found herself wondering how Paul and Lily had become friends. And that thought itself was a revelation to her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had any curiosity about anything. She'd been lost in the self- centered depths of hell for so long that she thought she could no longer think about anyone or anything but herself. God, what a mess her life was. What a mess she was. For as long as she could remember, she'd been screwing things up. The last happiness she could remember was before her twin brother Jamie died. After his death, life as she knew it had fallen apart. Her grandmother had disappeared right away, then a year later her parents had divorced, then a year after that her grandfather had died. Nothing was the same, including her. She had lost the person closest to her, someone who was like a part of her, and she didn't know how to go on without him. And her mother had been so buried in grief that she was unable to comfort her daughter and had left the 10- year-old to grieve alone, something McKenna had been unable to cope with. During her teenage years, she'd fallen in with a borderline group of girls who had started experimenting with the unholy trio of sex, drugs and alcohol. McKenna had been the youngest and most naïve of the girls, and the most vulnerable to their influence. In later years, she'd realized that her parents should have gotten her into counseling to handle the loss of Jamie. But instead, they'd buried themselves in their own grieving and their own problems, leaving her to fend for herself. But by the time McKenna realized what had gone wrong in her life, she was too deeply embedded in trouble to do anything about it. She'd lost her virginity to a high school senior when she was a freshman, thinking theirs was the great love story of the century. He'd eventually dumped her for his next conquest, leaving her heartbroken and bitter. From that time on, she'd taken a different approach with boys and then men, never again allowing herself to fall into the "love trap," as she called it. She'd become quite the party girl with the high school guys and then the college guys. Fortunately, she'd gotten herself on the pill before she could really mess up her life so she never had to worry about getting pregnant from her nighttime escapades. She'd never gotten heavily into drugs, just some marijuana and ecstasy at parties. Alcohol had been her drug of choice. She loved the way it made her feel – happy and warm and safe and comfortable. Of course, the hangovers made her feel anything but happy and all those other things. In college, she got drunk almost every night and she struggled to keep up her grades. It took her a year longer than the rest of her classmates to graduate because of having to make up so many failed courses. For one semester, she'd even been on probation and was close to being booted out of the university. Because of her dysfunctional family situation, she'd always felt alone, despite her hard-partying ways. But one of her party companions had opened the door to the career she now loved – web design. Her friend Rachel had helped her get a job at her father's small, independent ad agency as a general go-fer. After the first year of fetching coffee and cleaning up after the creative staff, she been give the job as assistant to the head web designer. She was fascinated with the Internet and the sites the agency created for clients. She took night classes in web design and programming, and did well in them. She begged for a chance to work in web design, and the head of the department finally took pity on her and let her shadow one of his designers. And, McKenna always said, the rest is history. She had good ideas and a strong work ethic, despite her love of the alcoholic lunch. Somehow she managed to keep it together during the day and not lose her job because of her drinking. Most very one else at the agency did the alcoholic lunch thing, at least some of the time, so McKenna's behavior was not that much out-of-the- ordinary. What was out-of-the-ordinary was that she continued drinking at the office in the afternoons and then at home Recently, just before her accident, she'd read a series of online articles about high-functioning alcoholics and had identified with many of their attributes. Through all her years of drinking, more than 15 in total, she'd never even remotely considered herself an alcoholic, until she read the series. Her one-car collision had been her first alcohol-related incident. She'd driven drunk numerous times but had been fortunate enough to not have any accidents or to cause injury to anyone. She now knew how lucky she had been and how great it was that she'd not killed anyone, including herself. Now standing here in Fieldings, waiting for her grandmother to finish her conversation with Mac the butcher, she thought about Paul's phone call and wondered what the AA meeting tonight would be like. She'd known a few people who'd attended AA meetings but they had not talked much about what went on there. She knew there was a confidentiality, anonymity thing with AA so it made sense to her that her acquaintances hadn't discussed it with her. Finally, Lily had excused herself from Mac and rejoined McKenna, her arms full of packages wrapped in white butcher's paper. McKenna could see various illegible scrawls in red ink across the packages and she wondered what Lily was getting. "I'm sorry that took so long," Lily said. "Once dear, sweet Mac starts talking, he can go on forever, bless his heart," Lily said as she loaded the packages into the shopping cart. "Paul called me on my cell phone," McKenna volunteered. "Oh?" Lily said, interested in what the lawyer was calling McKenna about. "He says there's an AA meeting tonight at 6:30 at the Catholic Church near your house. He's going to pick me up and drive me there." "Really? That's good," Lily said, a thoughtful tone in her voice. Lily finished up her shopping in just a few more minutes, and then they were standing in the check-out lane. The store had been almost empty when they first came in but it had quickly filled up with afternoon shoppers. Probably housewives, McKenna thought, coming in for last-minute items needed for that night's dinner. Lily and McKenna stood in line, not talking. McKenna reached out to the magazine rack at the end of the aisle and lifted out a copy of the latest edition of People Magazine. She was surprised to realize she didn't recognize any of the celebrities whose photos were featured on the cover. How out of it she'd been, she thought. What have I been doing with my life? Lily and the cashier knew each other and once again, Lily was engaged in an animated conversation. McKenna watched her grandmother, seeing a vivacious, energetic woman who looked 10 years younger than her age. McKenna had seen a photo of Lily when she was in her 30s and she'd been a knockout, a real beauty. She still retained vestiges of her former beauty, despite what seemed to be deliberate attempts to hide her attractiveness. McKenna helped load the bags of groceries back into the cart, then pushed the cart out the door into the parking lot. McKenna offered to put the groceries in the back of the Escape, and Lily accepted her offer, delighted at McKenna's gesture. On the drive home, again mostly a silent one, Lily broached the subject of the AA meeting, asking "What do you know about AA meetings?" "Nothing, really," McKenna answered. "Obviously, I've never been to one. I don't consider myself an alcoholic." Her tone was brusque and Lily didn't respond. Chapter 13 Monday, December 6, 2010 Lily Lily and McKenna brought in the groceries. Lily suggested that McKenna go upstairs and rest and let her put the things away. Lily sighed as her granddaughter left the kitchen without a word. Somehow she was coming to accept McKenna's unresponsiveness as the way things were. Groceries put away, Lily went into her office and quietly closed the door behind her. She sat down at the oversized library table she used as a desk and leaned back in the padded leather chair. She closed her eyes and sat there thinking about the day's events. It was only 3 p.m. but it felt like the day had been a hundred hours long already. Lily usually attended the Monday night AA meetings at the Catholic Church but she would pass on this one. McKenna needed to have her privacy. There was another Monday night meeting at the community center on the other side of Rivermont, and Lily would attend that one. Perhaps someday soon, she could share her own alcoholism story with McKenna but not yet. Their relationship was too tenuous to introduce that element into it. Her cell phone rang and she sat up and reached in her pocket for the phone. The LED screen announced "Paul!!" and she grinned as she said, "Yo – what's up?' "Lily, you don't say it right. It's 'Wassup?' You have to get with the program." "Speaking of program," Lily interrupted. "McKenna tells me you're driving her to the AA meeting down the street tonight." "Yup," Paul said. "I'm going to keep a close eye on her. I don't want her violating the terms of her probation on the first day." "Thank you, Paul. Thank you for everything. I usually attend that meeting but I'm going to go to a different one tonight. I don't want to muddy the waters by dragging McKenna into my own story. Time enough for that." "Agreed," Paul said. "I'll drop her off, then come back in a couple of hours to take her home." "You know you're going above and beyond for this client," Lily said softly, smiling into the phone. "I don't think of McKenna as just a client. Because of her connection to you, I sort of consider her family." "Dear boy, that's so generous of you. Well, if I'm back tonight by the time you bring McKenna home, I'll give you a cup of coffee and a piece of leftover pumpkin pie." "Sounds good. See ya." Lily ended the call, and leaned back in the chair again. She sat there for a few minutes, letting her mind drift. Finally, she sat up and reached out to turn on her laptop. She had a couple of hours before it was time to fix dinner, and she wanted to put in some time on her current writing project. Twenty years ago, Lily Bannister had been a "wanna-be writer." Throughout her career, she'd combined her love of writing with her love of computers and the Internet to regularly find or create so-called "dream jobs." She dabbled in fiction, writing short stories and starting a couple of mysteries that she never got around to finishing. Since childhood, she'd had the desire to write. She'd started her writing career at age 7, writing stories for neighbors, charging a whopping 25 cents each. Her parents had been her biggest customers, keeping her in bubble gum money. The Nancy Drew series had been her favorite books and she collected them religiously. She and her mother Beatrice had a ritual they followed weekly where while Lily's mom ironed, Lily would read Nancy Drew to her. Lily had gotten her writing ability and passion from her mother. Lily's mom had been a ghostwriter for a syndicate that produced children's books, similar to the Stratemeyer Syndicate responsible for the Nancy Drew series, in addition to the Bobbsey Twins and the Outdoor Girls, all of which Lily had read. Lily's mom worked on a series about twin teen-aged girls who were amateur detectives like Nancy Drew, who was their idol and role model. The series was titled The Taylor Twins and Beatrice let Lily read her drafts. As a little girl, Lily had emulated her mother, sometimes seating in the room she used as an office. Lily had set up a small folding table in a corner of the room. She had a toy typewriter that really worked and she wrote her own stories on the draft paper her mother had discarded. Those had been some of the happiest memories of her life, sitting there with her mother, both of them typing away. Lily had worshipped her mother and her writing ability and had wanted nothing more than to grow up to be exactly like her. In later years, Lily had wondered why her mother hadn't struck out on her own, rather than continuing to ghostwrite for the syndicate. Her mother had died before Lily had thought to ask her mother that question. Lily had been 22 when Beatrice died. Her daughter Traci was an infant, and Lily had been brokenhearted that her mother had had only a few months with her granddaughter. Beatrice had been a gentle, loving woman, with a streak of fun and humor in her. Beatrice and Lily's husband Josh had been close. At times, they'd ganged up together on Lily, always in good fun. Her mother's death had been sudden and unexpected. One moment she was there, strong, energetic, healthy, in her early 50s with no reason to think her heart would give out with no warning. She'd still been writing for the syndicate, although not as busily and constantly as when she was younger and needed the money. Lily's father had died when Lily was 11, and the money Beatrice earned from the syndicate was desperately important. All through the years, mother and daughter had written together and talked about writing with one another. Lily was devastated by her mother's death and unable to cope with the loss. She'd lapsed into a depression that had gripped her until Traci's first birthday. Mood elevators had just been introduced and the medication helped her get through the darkness of her days. Then when Traci turned one, somehow, the sight of her joyous baby girl, celebrating her first birthday, had brought Lily to the realization that she was letting this depression rob her of another important person in her life. She made up her mind to let go of her overwhelming grief over her mother and concentrate that energy on Traci. It hadn't happened overnight but gradually, Lily threw off the darkness and resumed her cheerful and energetic outlook on life. Twenty years ago, when Lily's life fell apart, she'd abandoned her writing for several years. It was as though she didn't have the fortitude and self-confidence to express her inner feelings. Then, as she gradually began to heal, she got the feeling that she should write about her grandson Jamie. But because it was such a painful subject for her, she helped to hide the pain by creating an alternate persona for him. She made him an angel who'd mistakenly died too young and who had thus returned to earth with the mission of helping those in need, much in the vein of "Touched by an Angel," a television show that was popular at the time. She gave the angel Jamie many of the characteristics of the real Jamie, his sweetness, his quirky sense of humor, the perpetual twinkle he had in his eyes. He'd been a charismatic child, quite different from his more placid twin sister, McKenna. She'd of course loved her granddaughter McKenna but not in the same special way she loved Jamie. Lily and Jamie had formed a special bond, with their similar looks and attitudes. From the moment he was born, weighing only two pounds, he'd tugged at her heartstrings. She had the oddest feeling that she'd known him in some previous lifetime even though she'd never thought she was a believer in reincarnation. Even in the midst of the mess Lily was making of her life with her drinking, Jamie brought her a rare kind of joy. She loved the times when she and Josh babysat with their grandchildren. Sometimes their daughter Traci and her husband Matt would go on weekend getaways, and Lily and Josh would get to spend the whole weekend with Jamie and McKenna. The Bannisters had an A-frame in the woods where they spent many of their weekends, and they loved taking the twins with them out to the woods. During the summer, the four of them would spend hours down at the big lake with its sandy beach, swimming, floating around the lake in their canoe, fishing or sometimes just lying on the beach soaking up the sun. Those had been idyllic times, and after life as she knew it has ended, Lily had to force herself not to think about them, not to obsess about what had been and what might have been. In Lily's new life, after a couple of years of effort, she ended up writing a 100,000-word novel about Jamie, the angel who was here to help. One of the other characters in the book was Jamie's sidekick and confidant, an older woman who was similar to Lily. Once she'd finished the first draft, for the next year Lily proceeded to revise and rewrite the book. As she neared the end of her revisions, she began to get the feeling that she was supposed to do something with the book, although originally she wrote for herself with no plans for trying to get it published.. She shared her book with Celia, who loved it and insisted that Lily get an agent and get the book published. Lily had demurred, not thinking it good enough and not wanting to push herself and her writing into the public eye. Lily and Celia had gone round and round about this for months, till Celia finally took matters into her own hands.. Celia sent Lily's book, titled "Jamie Angel," to a friend whose daughter worked at a small New York publishing firm. The friend passed it along to her daughter. Two weeks later, Celia called Lily with the news that the publishing firm wanted to buy Lily's book. At first, Lily had been indignant that her friend had gone behind her back. Then she went through a brief period of real anger at Celia. The indignation and anger eventually gave way to awe that someone wanted to publish her book. Celia had her son Robert, who was an attorney, help Lily with the legalities of the book contract. Her one condition about which she was adamant was that she insisted on using a pseudonym and keeping her true identity a secret. At first, the publisher had balked at Lily's requirement. But when Lily refused to sign the contract without the confidentiality agreement, the publisher had caved. The editors thought they had a winner on their hands, and they were convinced that the initial book would be only the first in a series. In their parlance, the book had "legs." And so it had begun. The book had been a best-seller, popular with both young and old readers. After a few months on or near the best-seller list, a New York television producer had contacted Lily's attorney about purchasing the rights to the book for a television series. Once again, Lily had hesitated, not wanting her identity to come out. But when the producer promised to keep her real name a secret, she had agreed, although reluctantly. Lily had been relieved that her publisher and the TV producer hadn't tried to get her to reveal her identity. She knew if she did, the story of her past tragedies would come to light, and she didn't want that. At about this time, Celia's grandson Paul went to work for his father's law firm. His emphasis in law school had been intellectual property so Robert turned Lily's legal requirements over to Paul. That had begun their relationship, which turned into a deep friendship. Lily had been impressed by the 25-year-old Paul's maturity and thoughtfulness, and then captivated by his sense of humor and devotion to his grandmother. In her mind, she considered him as a surrogate grandson. He could, of course, never be a replacement for Jamie but he could certainly be someone very special in her life. The publicity surrounding the mystery of Jessica Caviletti's true identity had hyped the success first of the book series and then of the TV program. Both the publisher and the TV producers had latched onto the possibilities of the mystery and had used the secret identity of the author to promote interest in Jamie Angel." The public had been fascinated by the concept of someone who wanted no celebrity, someone who didn't crave 15 minutes or more of fame. The mystery had added a certain cachet to the series, a unique take on today's world where celebrity was valued as a hot commodity. Lily had often marveled at reality shows and the lengths to which some people would go for fame and celebrity. She was unable to watch more than 30 seconds of reality shows, inevitably cringing in embarrassment at the humiliation people exposed themselves to. The "Jamie Angel" television show had been as successful, if not more so, than the book upon which it was based. Lily began receiving royalties in excess of whatever seemed sensible to her. That had been the start of her unique tithing program. Rather than tithing 10% and keeping 90% for herself, she did the reverse, tithing 90% and keeping 10%. Robert's law firm had helped Lily establish a charitable foundation that was the recipient of her 90% tithes. To date, the foundation had given away almost 10 million dollars to Rivermont charities and good causes. Lily, Robert, Paul and Celia comprised the foundation's board, a very closed group because Lily wanted to make sure no one knew that she was Jessica Caviletti, the writer of the Jamie Angel series, and only the Longs knew the source of the foundation's funding. Robert had hired Diana Wells as the director of the foundation. Diana had headed Rivermont's largest charitable foundation for over two decades, until the dissolution of the foundation. In one massive grant to the Rivermont Ecology Center, the foundation had given away all its assets. Diana had been financially independent and wouldn't have had to work but she loved foundation work, and she became an enthusiastic part of the Angel Foundation family. At times, Lily felt badly about not having full disclosure about her identity and the source of the foundation's funds with Diana, but had kept her secret. If Diana suspected anything, so be it. Lily was determined to keep her anonymity and so far seemed to have done so, even in this day and age of anything and everything being fair game on the Internet. Paul had eventually taken over his father's day-to-day foundation responsibilities. Robert remained on the board in an advisory capacity but left the nitty-gritty details to his son. Paul had carved out a specialized niche for himself in his father's law firm. In addition to handling Lily's and the foundation's legal matters, he had several clients who were writers and he did the legal work for the Rivermont University foundation. In a conversation with Lily that day, he told her that McKenna's legal problems were his first foray into criminal law since his first year or two at his father's law firm. After his experience with McKenna, Paul told Lily how much he preferred his contract and foundation work. Lily had chuckled at that but said she understood. Chapter 14 Monday, December 6, 2010 Paul At precisely 6:30 p.m. that Monday evening, Paul rang Lily's doorbell. When no one answered, he knocked on the front door. Still no one answered. Not sure what to do, he called McKenna on her cell phone. It rang three times, then kicked over to voice mail. "Hey, McKenna, I'm standing here at Lily's front door, ringing the doorbell and knocking. Can you let me in?" A minute later, the door opened and McKenna stood there, looking concerned. "I'm sorry. I don't think the door bell works and I didn't hear any knocking." She stepped aside and said, "Please come in -- I'm almost ready to go." In the entry hall, McKenna picked up her fur-trimmed parka that was tossed on a bench and started to put it on. To her surprise, Paul took the coat from her and helped her in to it. She turned to him and said, "What a gentleman you are. I can't remember a man ever helping me with my coat." "My mom was a real stickler for manners and she pounded them into me. Be prepared. I'm also going to open the car door for you." McKenna smiled and said, "Okay, I'll be on the lookout for that." "Where's Lily?" Paul asked looking down the hall as if expecting his friend to come greet him. "She left a few minutes ago. She said she was going out for the evening but she didn't tell me where. We had an early dinner -- a baked chicken she picked up at that market." "Fieldings," Paul said. "They're known for their ready-to-eat food." "Yes, it was delicious. We actually ate the whole thing." "I don't suppose that would be hard to do. Well, ready to go?" McKenna looked around the entry hall and said, "Yes, I'm ready. She reached into her purse for a key on a beaded key chain. "Lily gave me this and asked me to be sure to lock the deadbolt. So let's do it." Paul nodded and opened the front for McKenna. He was surprised at her good mood and seeming willingness to tackle the new experience of an AA meeting. Outside, snow flurries had begun, and McKenna put up the hood of her parka. True to his word, Paul opened the passenger door of his Ranger pickup and helped McKenna in. They drove in silence for a few minutes, then McKenna said, "Paul?" "Yes?" "I'm scared." The words came out in a rush. Paul hesitated, then said, "I understand." "I don't think you do," was McKenna's quick response. "I don't know anything about Alcoholics Anonymous, other than what I've seen in movies. I have no clue what I'm supposed to do or what's going to happen there." "That's sort of what I thought," Paul said. "Listen, I'll go to the meeting with you." "But --" McKenna paused, then continued. "I didn't think non-alcoholics could go to meetings." "That's true for closed meetings. But the meeting at St. Alphonse is what's called an open meeting, in the sense that members can bring friends or family with them. It's still completely confidential with no last names used but non-alcoholics can attend." "That would be great if you would come in with me, at least this first time. But I still won't know what to do." "I can help you with that. I've been to open meetings before. Someday I'll tell you about that." McKenna glanced over at Paul, wondering what the story would be. He was a handsome man, she thought, and a kind one. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in the company of such a nice man. Her relationships were usually with men as troubled and lost as she was. "Well, here we are," Paul announced as he pulled into a snow-covered parking lot adjacent to a magnificent, impressive building. "Wow!" was McKenna's reaction. "That's one beautiful church. Are you Catholic?" she asked. "No," Paul answered, "I'm not much of anything. Your grandmother is always after me to attend her church but so far she hasn't had much luck." He parked in a space close to what looked like a side entrance to the church. Once again true to his word, he came around to open McKenna's door but she'd already opened it and was stepping out of the pickup by the time he got there. "You're ruining my expression of manners," he said with a wide grin. "What would my mom say?' McKenna shook her head and said, "Okay, just lead the way. I want to get this over with." "That's one thing your grandmother did teach me, and I think it has something to do with her church. She taught me to live in the moment, to enjoy whatever it is I'm doing, to never say what you just said about wanting to get this over with. It's been an amazing lesson for me, one of the most important in my life." Paul paused, then gently took McKenna's arm and helped her up the flight of stairs that led to the church's side entrance. McKenna stopped and said, "Really?" disbelief evident in her voice. "Really," Paul responded. "That's another story for another time." "It sounds as though you have lots of stories you could tell me," McKenna said. "You better believe it, young lady." "I'm not that young," McKenna said, as she walked through the door Paul had just opened for her. Paul paused and looked at McKenna, really looked at her. "No, I don't suppose you're that young at all." His words and their tone took McKenna by surprise. It was the first time since she'd met him that she felt he'd really looked at her, really made contact with her. She shoved that thought aside for the moment, focusing all her attention on where she was and what was about to occur. The side door through which Paul and McKenna had entered St. Alphonse led to a hallway that opened into a large, open room. Chairs were set up in the front of the room, 20 or so McKenna estimated. A podium stood in front of the chairs. On one side of the room was a long table covered with books and pamphlets. On the other side of the room another long table held a coffee urn, Styrofoam cups and a platter of what looked like cookies. They walked toward the front of the room and were greeted on their way by a tall, burly man with a Santa Claus beard who boomed at them, "Welcome, folks, take a seat anywhere. And help yourself to coffee and cookies. Paul smiled at the man and reached out a hand to him. "Thanks for the welcome. My name is Paul and this is McKenna." The man shook Paul's hand and then McKenna's. "I'm Tony. This is the St. Alphonse group. Sorry we weren't more creative about the name but whatever works." Paul chuckled at that and then led McKenna to a seat at the end of one of the middle rows. McKenna took the end seat and Paul sat down next to her. He smiled and asked, "Poised for a quick getaway?" To her chagrin, McKenna felt herself blushing. She turned her face away from Paul, hoping that he hadn't seen the color rush to her cheeks. "I guess I always try to sit at the end of a row," she said slowly, still not looking at him. "Me, too," Paul said. "Sometimes I suppose it annoys people because they have to climb over me to get to the middle of the row, especially at the movies." McKenna turned back to Paul, the flush mostly gone from her cheeks. "I know what you mean. I always prefer an end seat, too." By this time, the chairs were all filled, and McKenna noticed two men go over to a closet to get more chairs. "Big turnout, tonight, huh?" she whispered to Paul. "Looks like," he answered. "Do you want coffee and a cookie before the meeting starts?" "Coffee would be great, thanks, but no cookie. I'm still stuffed from that baked chicken." "How do you take your coffee?" he asked. "Cream and sugar, please," McKenna answered. "Me, too," Paul said again, and stood up and edged past McKenna out into the aisle. The table with the coffee and cookies was next to where they were sitting, and he returned in a couple of minutes with two steaming cups of coffee. The tall burly man who'd greeted them walked to the podium and stood there looking out over the group. Gradually the meeting attendees noticed him standing there and the group quieted down. When there was relative silence in the room, the man said, "Good evening. Welcome to the St. Alphonse AA meeting. My name is Tony and I'm an alcoholic." "Good evening, Tony," the group responded in unison, including Paul but not McKenna. She glanced at Paul but he was looking toward the front of the room and didn't see her look. "Do we have any newcomers tonight?" Tony asked, looking directly at McKenna. McKenna bowed her head and tried to ignore his look but Paul gave her a gentle jab in the side. McKenna raised her hand and said softly, "I’m a newcomer." "Welcome," came Tony's booming voice. "What's your name? First name only, little lady. It is Alcoholics Anonymous, after all." Chuckles rippled through the group and Paul joined in, assuming this was an old joke for them. "My name is McKenna," she said, then stopped speaking. There was silence in the room as if they were waiting for her to say more but she didn't. "Well, welcome McKenna. Would you like to talk to the group? You don't have to. It's up to you." McKenna said, "No, thank you," in a voice just barely louder than a whisper. "Very well," Tony said. "Perhaps another time." He looked back over the group and said, "We'll open the meeting up to anyone who wants to share." Thus began an evening filled with a series of speakers, one after another, sharing their stories, their successes and their failures. McKenna sat there engrossed, listening intently to each person as he or she opened and told the most horrific tales of drunkenness, lost families, lost jobs, jail time, an unending march of heartbreaking stories. McKenna felt the tears running down her cheeks and as she brushed them away, she felt Paul press a handkerchief into her hand. She couldn't believe that she'd been listening so closely that she'd forgotten that Paul was sitting there next to her. She smiled at him in thanks and used the handkerchief to wipe away the tears. Toward the end of the meeting, the speakers trickled down till finally no one got up to speak. Tony retook the podium and opened a large blue book that was centered on the podium. He looked out at the group till he found the person he was looking for and said, "Miranda, we're ready for your step 8 presentation" A tall gray-haired black woman stood up and walked briskly to the podium. She hugged Tony and said a whispered thanks to him before turning to the group. "My name is Miranda, and I'm an alcoholic." The group responded with "Hello, Miranda." She smiled, nodded at the group then turned her attention to the big blue book on the podium. She flipped through a few pages, then read in a clear strong voice: "Step 8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all." Miranda reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a folded sheaf of papers. She then reached into the other pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses. Glasses perched on her face, she looked down at the papers in her hands then out at the audience. "Here's my list of all the people I've harmed," she began, waving the papers in front of her. "And as you can see it isn't a short list. It's a long list and to me an important list. They say a woman should never reveal her again but I'm proud to announce that I'm 57 years old. I'm proud to announce that because when I was drinking, chances were I'd never live that long. Yet here I am – 12 years sober and grateful for every moment of that sobriety." She took off the glasses, put them back in her pocket, then refolded the list and put that back in the other pocket. She smiled out at the group and said, "I'll be back next month to talk about Step 9, Make direct amends to the people you have harmed except when to do so would injure them or others." She walked away from the podium to a round of applause from the audience. Tony went back to the podium and said, "Thank you, Miranda. We look forward to next month, as I'm sure you do also." Laughter rippled through the audience. "That's all for tonight, folks. Feel free to stay and socialize and enjoy the coffee and cookies." Tony left the podium and joined a group by the table holding the books and brochures. Paul looked at McKenna and asked, "Stay or go?" "Go, please," she answered. "It's going to take me awhile to feel comfortable here." "I understand," Paul said. "But I promise you, eventually it will happen." On their way out, Paul led them in the direction of Tony and the literature table. He reached out and selected a copy of the Big Book, along with two other books and a brochure. He took them to the woman seated at the end of the table cash box. She totaled up his purchases and he paid in cash. Then he turned back and walked to where Tony stood. He stretched out a hand to Tony, who shook it. "Thank you," Paul said, then turned to join McKenna who was standing off to the side watching his movements. Outside in the hall, she asked, "What did you buy?" "Presents for you," he said. "For me?" "Yup! A little light reading to get you started on the program." As he said program, he waved the big blue book at her and smiled. "I guess it's more heavy reading than light." When they emerged from St. Alphonse, Paul groaned when he saw the snow covering his Ranger. He unlocked the passenger door and helped McKenna inside the pickup, then handed her his purchases. "Just let me start the car to warm things up, then I'll brush off this snow and we'll be on our way." He got into the driver's side, started the engine and then reached around behind the seat and took out a combination ice scraper and brush. He got out and set to work on the windshield and back window of the Ranger. The snowfall was a fluffy one, and it took only a few minutes to brush it off the windows. Back in the Ranger, Paul held his hands in front of the heat vents to warm them up. "It's gotten colder out there," he said to McKenna. "If the snow continues like this, it's going to stick to the ground and we might be in for some accumulation." McKenna looked out the window and said, "I used to love snow when I was a little girl. I can remember the excitement of seeing the first snowflakes fall, begging my mom to let me go outside and play. And the most exciting thing was hoping for a snow day, a day off from school. If it started to snow in the evening, I'd wake up a couple of times during the night so I could go look out the window to see if we'd had enough snow to close school." Paul chuckled and said, "I remember the same kind of things. Sometimes when I had a snow day, Dad would take off work and take me to the park to go sledding. Rivermont Park has a huge, sloping hill that's ideal for sledding. The art museum is at the top of the hill, and Dad would park the car there, along with all the other adventurous souls, and then we'd zoom down the hill. He'd let me sit in front on the sled and help steer it." "I never got to go sledding," McKenna said with a note of sadness in her voice. "My mom was over protective and she kept me on a short leash." "Well, Miss McKenna, I promise you that if we get sufficient snow, I'll take you sledding in the park." McKenna turned to him with a wide grin on her face and said, "Pinky swear?" "Absolutely pinky swear!" Paul answered. They rode the rest of the way home in a companionable silence. Paul wanted to ask her what she thought of the meeting but didn't want to intrude on her privacy. If she ever felt like sharing her feelings, she would. He was surprised at how much he'd enjoyed the evening. Earlier he'd been dreading it and had been beating himself up for offering to take McKenna to the meeting. But it had turned out better than he'd expected, much better. When they reached Lily's cottage, they saw the porch light was on and there were tire tracks in the driveway leading into the garage. Paul pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. "Lily must be back from her -- from wherever she went. She promised me pumpkin pie, if that's all right with you?" "Of course," McKenna said. "But if you don't mind, I won't join the two of you. I'm really beat and I just want to go to bed." "Definitely," Paul said. "This is your first day out of the hospital, and you need your rest." McKenna dug into her handbag and found the key on the beaded key chain that Lily had given her earlier that day. Paul reached over and took the key from her, then got out of the Ranger. Once again, he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for McKenna. This time she waited, letting him do his gentlemanly duty. Paul held her arm as they walked up the snow-covered sidewalk to Lily's front door. McKenna felt a brief sting of tears in her eyes as she thought about how kind Paul had been to her this evening. She'd never before felt taken care of by a man, so protected. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and she didn't know what to think about it. This stranger had come into her life and had shown such concern for her. She put the thought aside for the moment, intending to think about it later when she was alone. The porch light was on and Paul easily unlocked the front door. He stepped aside to let McKenna precede him inside. Once they were both in the entry hall and the door was closed behind them, Paul helped McKenna off with her parka and took off his own jacket and hung them both on the coat tree in the corner of the foyer. Paul called out, "Lily," and then reached down to pet Kitty who'd shown up in the foyer. Lily came into the foyer and gave them a big smile. "Welcome back," she said, looking at McKenna. McKenna gave her a nod and said a soft "Thanks." "Anyone for pumpkin pie?" Lily asked. "You bet," Paul said. "Thanks, but I'm really beat. If it's okay, I just want to go up to bed?" "Of course, dear, that's what you should do," Lily answered. "Is there anything I can get you? Do you have everything you need?" "I'm fine, thanks," McKenna said as she too reached down to pet Kitty, who was twisting around her legs. "Paul, thank you for this evening. I appreciate it." "Glad to help," Paul said. "Sleep well." McKenna nodded and said "Good night to both of you." She left the foyer and headed up the stairs, Kitty trailing closely behind. Lily came over and gave Paul a hug, saying "You're my hero, you know. If I were only 20 years younger..." she let her voice trail off and gave him what passed for a lecherous look. "Promises, promises," Paul shot back. "Come on in the kitchen for that pumpkin pie I promised you." A few minutes later the two of them were seated comfortably in the kitchen's built-in booth, cups of decaf and pieces of pumpkin pie topped with mounds of whipped cream in front of them. "So how did it go tonight?" Lily asked around a mouth filled with whipped cream. "Okay, I guess. I know it was hard for her. I don't think she has accepted the fact that she's an alcoholic but tonight was eye opening for her. She listened to the members' stories and I think she identified with what they were saying. I got the feeling that she recognized herself in what they said." "That's good. I know it's going to take awhile. I remember what I went through. I quit drinking right after Jamie's death but it took a long time for me to deal with my addiction. I was what they call a "dry drunk" -- someone who doesn't drink but who hasn't dealt with the underlying cause of their alcoholism." Paul didn't say anything and just concentrated on his pie. Lily had never before shared all that much of her background and her problems with alcohol, and he didn't want to interrupt her train of thought. He felt she probably needed to verbalize some things for her own understanding. He knew she was eventually going to have to tell her story to McKenna and perhaps a trial run would be good practice for her. "At the meeting I attended tonight, I got up and spoke, something I don't do very often. I talked a little about what I went through 20 years ago, as a prelude to talking about McKenna and the struggle she's going through right now. I think I was talking for my own understanding, so that I know what to do." Lily paused and took the last bite of pie, then shoved her plate away. "Another piece? she asked. "No, I'd better not. It's really good but one piece is enough." Paul got up and brought the pot of coffee back to the table and poured them each another cup. "How is she doing, really?" Lily asked. "Well, I think she's doing better. She talked more tonight than she has in the time I've known her. Did you notice that she even talked to you when we got home?" Lily smiled and said, "Yes, I did notice and it was a good feeling. Paul, she's my granddaughter, my only family, and I don't know her at all. I'm feeling awful now that I didn't reach out to her, that I didn't make an effort to get to know her, to be a part of her life. I guess I was afraid of what everyone had told her about me. I guess I thought she'd reject me, not want to have anything to do with me because, because of what I did, what happened to Jamie." Tears slid down her cheeks and she brushed them away with her napkin. Paul reached out and took her hand. "Lily, don't punish yourself anymore. You've done enough of that, more than enough, to last a lifetime. You have to forgive yourself and let it go." "I thought I had. I thought I'd worked through it and made my peace with it, but being with McKenna has brought it all back." "I was afraid of that," Paul said slowly, still holding Lily's hand. "I really think that the sooner you have that nitty-gritty talk with McKenna, the better. And I want you to tell her about 'Jamie Angel'. I know you don't want to but if you don't, there won't be true honesty between you and your granddaughter. So think about it. And know that I will do whatever I can to help you and McKenna. I know how much she means to you. She's so heartbreakingly lost and alone and she's started to have a place in my heart also." "Paul, that means so much to me. You're such a dear, sweet man and I feel so blessed to have you in my life." "Ditto," Paul answered, then added with a chuckle, "I mean the part about feeling blessed, not about you being a dear, sweet man." Lily laughed in return and shook her head at his silliness. Paul said his goodnights and told Lily not to walk him to the door. "Get some rest," he advised. "And tell McKenna I'll call her tomorrow about our sledding appointment." Lily gave him a quizzical look and he laughed, saying, "Tonight as we were driving through the snow, McKenna told me she'd never been sledding. I told her about that awesome hill at Rivermont Park and promised to take her sledding. I'm going to knock off work a little early tomorrow and introduce her to the excitement of sliding down a hill." With that, Paul left, leaving Lily bewildered at what he'd just told her. It seemed as though Paul was beginning to be interested in McKenna, and she wasn't sure what to think about that. Chapter 15 Monday, December 6, 2010 McKenna The next day, Lily delivered Paul's message to McKenna and was surprised at how her granddaughter's face lit up at the thought of the sledding appointment. Lily told McKenna that she had a doctor's appointment that morning. She asked if she wanted to ride along but McKenna said no, she'd stay at home and do some reading in the book and pamphlets Paul had bought her. As Lily was walking out the door, she called back to say she should be home by lunch. McKenna went upstairs and gathered up the things Paul had bought for her at last night's AA meeting. She decided to read downstairs in the living room. The two long sofas there looked comfortable and soon McKenna was stretched out on one of them. A few minutes later, Kitty joined her, lying right next to her. McKenna had smiled at that and had wondered why in all these years, she'd never had a pet or had even realized that cats could be good companions. The pamphlets looked more engaging than the thick blue book and McKenna decided to dip her toe in the water of AA literature with them. To her surprise, they actually turned out to be interesting. There were stories about members, anonymous of course, first names only. Once again, McKenna felt she could identify with the people telling the stories, much as she had done at last night's meeting. She sat there for an hour and a half, engrossed in what she assumed were true life stories of other alcoholics. The ringing of the telephone startled her. And it startled Kitty also, who leapt from the sofa and ran from the living room. McKenna put down the pamphlet she'd been reading and stood up, feeling a bit wobbly from sitting still for such a long time. She stumbled a bit as she walked into the entry hall to answer the ringing phone. She picked it up and said tentatively, "Hello?" Lily was on the other end of the line saying, "McKenna? Sorry to disturb you but I have a major favor to ask of you. My silly doctor is insisting on checking me into the hospital for some tests. Nothing to be alarmed about but evidently my blood pressure and pulse are much higher than they should be, and she's decided this is a good excuse to get me in for a good check-up. Anyway, the reason I'm calling is that I need to you to put together some things for me for overnight. I've called Paul, and he's going to run by the house to pick them up and bring them to the hospital." "Sure," McKenna said. "Just tell me what you need and where to find it." She picked up a pen and pad of paper that lay on the entry hall table where the phone sat. Lily gave her a list of clothes and toiletries and told where to find each item. Lily thanked her and McKenna asked if there was anything else she could do. "No, thank you, dear. This is all very routine and nothing to be concerned about. Paul said you can ride along with him when he drops my things off and then you can do your sledding thing. He took the rest of the day off from work. He certainly helps that his father owns the law firm he works for." Lily said good-bye and McKenna hung up the phone. She looked down at the notes she had made, hoping she could read her chicken-scratching and hoping she'd gotten enough information from Lily to put together every thing Lily needed. McKenna went into Lily's bedroom, for only the second time. The first time had been accidental when she was looking for the kitchen and made a wrong turn in the hallway. She heard a sound behind her and turned around to see Kitty following her down the hall. "Come on, little Kitty, you can help me get your Momma's things together." McKenna was happy to have the company and happy to have Kitty's undemanding companionship. She stood in the middle of the room, trying to get her bearings. Probably the first thing she needed to do was to find Lily's suitcase so she'd have something to put the things in. Lily had said her luggage was at the very back of her walk-in closet. She'd asked McKenna to bring the red suitcase on wheels. McKenna turned on the light in the closet and walked in. A faint aroma of Chanel #5, evidently Lily's preferred perfume wafted toward her. She quickly found the red wheeled suitcase and brought it out into the room. Next she started searched for the undergarments and other items Lily had asked for, along with toiletries from the bathroom. The most difficult part was locating the change of clothes Lily had requested. Her walk-in closet was packed with clothes and for a moment, McKenna felt overwhelmed by their profusion. But she soon noticed that the clothes were organized by type, such as blouses, slacks, skirts, suits, etc., and then further organized by color. So it became relatively easy to select a red sweater, black slacks and a black jacket. Then came another difficulty – finding the books and papers Lily had requested. On top of the bedside table she found Lily's journal and her Recovery Bible. She put those in the suitcase, then looked down at the note to see if she'd gotten everything. There were a couple of scrawls at the bottom that took a moment to decipher. Then she remembered that Lily had told her she'd find these things in her office. She wanted her laptop and a red file folder that should be sitting in the middle of her desk. McKenna turned out all the lights in Lily's bedroom, zipped up the suitcase and started out of the room, to head toward the office. She turned back and spoke to Kitty, who had curled herself into a ball in the middle of Lily's king-sized bed. "Well, are you coming, Kitty? We're almost done." Evidently Kitty understood because she stood up, stretched, then hopped down off the bed. McKenna hadn't yet been in Lily's office and wasn't sure which room it was. She opened the door next to the bedroom but it was a small guest room, not an office. At then end of the hall was another door and this time when she opened it, she knew immediately she had found Lily's office. Inside the room, McKenna easily located the laptop sitting in the middle of what she assumed was Lily's desk. Rather than a standard office desk, it appeared that Lily used a gleaming mahogany library table for a desk. It was beautiful and McKenna paused a moment to run her hand over the wood, admiring the rich color. She glanced down at her notes and saw that there was one more thing for her to retrieve -- a red file folder supposedly sitting in the middle of the desk. But it wasn't there. A couple of manila file folders were there, along with a green one, but no red one. Then McKenna thought she saw a bit of red sticking out from under the laptop and realized the laptop was sitting on top of the elusive red file folder. McKenna bent over and once again opened the rolling suitcase, this time to put the laptop and red file folder inside. Just as she'd finished zipping the suitcase shut, she heard a loud crash, followed by a screeching yowl and then another crash. Frantically looking around the office, McKenna saw an open closet door. She walked over and turned on the closet light. And there she saw the cause of all the noise. Kitty was sitting in the middle of the closet floor, staring at McKenna, as if to say "So?" And next to Kitty was a jumble of cardboard boxes, whose contents were strewn across the floor. "Oh, Kitty, what have you done?" McKenna mournfully asked the black cat. As McKenna headed in to the interior of the closet, Kitty meowed and made a fast retreat. "Sure," McKenna called after her, "leave me with all the mess. See if I give you any treats." McKenna surveyed the mess, figuring out that the boxes had been stacked at the end of the closet, and Kitty must have taken a flying leap at them, causing them to tumble down. Sighing, McKenna set about straightening things up. She pulled the boxes out into the middle of office so she work more easily. There were five cardboard boxes and at least half of the contents of each box had ended up on the floor of the closet. McKenna started going through the papers, quickly skimming their contents to get an idea about what papers belonged in what boxes. But then she began to slow down, to read the papers more carefully. They were a puzzling lot. They all seemed to pertain to the same subject: the mega-popular television series "Jamie Angel." There were reams of notes, what looked like scripts, photo after photo of the actors on the show. There were video tapes and DVDs, plus a handful of old cassette audio tapes. "What is all this?" McKenna wondered aloud and was answered by a yowl from Kitty, who'd rejoined McKenna in Lily's office. McKenna sat down on the floor in the middle of the boxes and papers, and tried to put them in some semblance of order. She couldn't wrap her mind around what she'd found. What reason could Lily possibly have for possessing all these things? McKenna avoided the obvious conclusion for as long as she could. Lily must have some connection to the Jamie Angel television series but what could that connection be? As she read and as she carefully returned the materials to the cardboard boxes, a suspicion began growing in her mind. She tried to ignore it because it was making her angry. But she couldn't push the thought away. She was beginning to be certain that her grandmother was the mysterious Jessica Caviletti, the woman responsible for Jamie Angel. McKenna could feel her face flushing in anger. How could her grandmother have misused Jamie like this? Wasn't it bad enough that her drunken driving had killed him? With this blatant commercialism of him, she had abused his memory and defiled his death. McKenna stood up, letting the papers tumble to the floor. She kicked at them and kicked at the boxes. Kitty took one look at this enraged human and streaked out of the office. McKenna paced back and forth across the room, taking deep breaths to try to calm herself. But the rage kept building. What a phony her grandmother was. And just to think of all the money she'd made from her deception. How could she! McKenna sat down in the desk chair in front of the library table and buried her face in her hands. Try as she might, she couldn't hold back the tears. She wept for her lost brother and she wept for her lost grandmother. Lily had been so kind and generous these past few days and McKenna had begun to feel that she might not be alone in the world. But this betrayal swept away all the kind thoughts she'd had for Lily. She heard a sound in the hallway and raised her head, saying, "Kitty? Is that you? Come back. I'm sorry I frightened you." The door to the office slowly opened and Paul stuck his head in, saying, "No, it's not Kitty, it's me." "You!" McKenna said accusingly. "You're in on this, aren't you?" Paul started to ask what he was in on, when he saw the papers and boxes strewn across the floor. They were all the Jamie Angel papers and Paul realized that McKenna had discovered Lily's well-kept secret. "Oh, McKenna," Paul said, walking toward. "Don't Oh, McKenna me. This is horrible. This is unbelievable. What a witch that woman is. How could she have done such a horrendous thing – how could she have used my poor dead brother for her own profit?" "It's not what you think, McKenna." Paul said softly, going over to where the papers were heaped on the floor. He kneeled down and began to carefully stack the papers inside the boxes, taking care to straighten them out and pack them gently and respectfully. "Of course, it is," McKenna hissed at him. "My grandmother killed my brother, then made a profit on her crime." "McKenna, it wasn't like that at all. In the first place, it was an accident. Lily was at fault but there was no evil and no intention there. She was brokenhearted about what happened and she's spent the past 20 years atoning for her actions, making reparations wherever she can. And she gives the money to charity. She doesn't keep any of the Jamie Angel earnings for herself. She lives on what she made in web development and from the sales of her websites." "Quit defending her! How can you defend her? How can you condone what's she's done? How dare she take advantage of my poor dead brother!" McKenna stood up and walked over to the nearest cardboard and gave it a kick, causing it to fly into Paul's chest. He said a loud "Ooof!" and stumbled backwards. McKenna gasped and said "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident." Paul stared at her, letting her words reverberate in the room. She looked at him, then nodded her head and repeated, "an accident." She took a deep breath and continued, "Just like my one-car drunk-driving episode was an accident." Paul rubbed his chest where the sharp corner of the heavy-duty cardboard box had struck him. McKenna noticed the motion and asked, "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?" "It'll be okay, I think. It just stings a lot." The two of them stood there in the middle of Lily's office staring at one another. Paul finally spoke, saying, "Well, we've got a fine mess here, don't we? And I'm not talking about these papers on the floor, although those are certainly in a mess." McKenna didn't respond, just started picking up the papers and placing them carefully into one of the cardboard boxes. "McKenna, what are we going to do?" McKenna stopped what she was doing and turned to face Paul. "Well, I guess I know what I have to do and that's face reality. I've been in such deep denial about my drinking that I haven't been able to see what's going on. And I have the feeling that Lily was in pretty much same situation 20 years ago. You'd think I'd finally get something sensible through my hard head. But oh no, not McKenna, the one who knows all." She took a deep breath, then sat down cross-legged on the floor and buried her face in her hands. Paul could hear her crying but didn't know what to do. He wanted to comfort her but he was afraid she'd bite his head off. So instead, he sat down on the floor beside her and continued her task of putting the papers back into the boxes. By the time he had most of papers put away, McKenna had stopped crying and started helping him. They both stood up and looked awkwardly at one another, embarrassed at the emotional maelstrom they'd just shared. Paul started carrying the boxes back into the closet, carefully stacking them in their original location. McKenna trailed behind him with the last box and he took it from her and put on the top of the stack. They both turned at the same time to leave the closet and bumped into each other. Paul instinctively reached out his arms and grabbed McKenna to hold her steady. They stood there for a moment in each other's arms. McKenna looked into Paul's eyes and was surprised to see the concern reflected there. She patted his arm reassuringly and said, "I'm okay, really I am. You don't know me very well but I'm actually a strong, resilient person. The drinking was an anomaly in my normal safe and sane approach to life." Paul looked quizzically at her, then held her closer. He knew it was the wrong thing to do but he couldn’t help himself. Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her, a soft, gentle kiss. To his surprise, she didn't resist, didn't pull back, and certainly didn't slap his face, which he'd half expected. The kiss ended and they stood there staring at one another, neither speaking, both barely breathing. McKenna was the first to move away. She pointed at the red suitcase by the door and said in a soft voice, “Could you please take that to Lily? I can’t see her.” With those words, she walked out of the room and down the hall. Paul started to follow after her, then thought better of it. Paul well understood that what McKenna had discovered had been a shock to her, and he also understood why she refused to see her grandmother. He grabbed the red rolling suitcase by its extended handle and headed toward the front door. There, he paused, wondering if he should go make sure McKenna was okay. In the back of his mind was his worry that she might start drinking again but he dismissed it. Lily kept no alcohol in her home, and McKenna didn’t have a car so there was no way she could go find alcohol. Besides, he needed to have a little more confidence in her. He opened the front door and closed it softly behind him, locking it. Lily was going to be so upset if he told her what had happened. He considered the wisdom of keeping the truth from her, at least for awhile. He didn’t want her stewing overnight in the hospital, especially with her elevated blood pressure. Finally, he decided it would b best to wait until the doctor gave her a clean bill of health and then tell her. And perhaps giving McKenna some time to digest what she’d discovered would lessen her anger at Lily. On the drive to the hospital, Paul decided to tell Lily that McKenna was feeling a bit tired and had decided she needed to rest instead of riding along to the hospital and that they were postponing the sledding. He didn’t like keeping the truth from Lily; it didn’t feel right. But it didn’t feel right to take the chance of exacerbating her already elevated blood pressure. At the hospital, Paul parked in the visitors’ lot, finding a close space. It was the middle of the afternoon and evidently not many people were visiting. It had once again started to snow, and Paul felt a stab of disappointment that he and McKenna wouldn’t be sledding. He’d been avoiding thinking about kissing her. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. He supposed it was the emotion of the moment. And he’d known almost from first meeting her that he felt an attraction to her. What had surprised him was that evidently she felt some of the same attraction. Well, it would probably go nowhere so best to forget it. At the hospital information desk, he inquired about Lily’s room number, then took one of the elevators up to the third floor. He easily found the room and tapped lightly on the door. Lily said, “Come in.” Paul opened the door and pushed the suitcase in front of him. Lily was sitting in an upholstered chair next to the hospital bed. In her lap was a generic-looking Bible, evidently one of the ones found in hospital rooms. "Hi, Paulie, it's so good to see you." She looked past him as if searching for someone, then said, "McKenna didn't come with you?" Disappointment was evident in her voice. "No, sorry. She was feeling really tired and thought it would be best if she rested. We've postponed our sledding date also." He noticed Lily's smile at the word date and decided he would have to be more circumspect in his choice of words so that Lily didn't get the wrong idea. "Where should I put your suitcase?" Paul asked. "I think McKenna found everything that you'd asked for." Lily stood and came toward Paul to get the suitcase. But first she gave him a fierce hug and said, "Thank you so much for being my friend. I'm feeling a bit wobbly at the moment, and it's good to have you here." Paul squeezed her back and said, "I'm all yours. I took the day off work, and since I'm not going sledding, I'm at your disposal." "Want to help me unpack?" Lily asked with a grin, knowing Paul would agree but also knowing he'd rather not. "Sure," Paul said, trying to inject some kind of enthusiasm in his voice but failing, "Not to worry, I can do it myself. Why don't you go get a sinful latte while I get my laptop set up and everything.?" "Will do," Paul agreed, then added, "I think I'll also run out to the truck and get my laptop. I can always do some work while I'm visiting." "Great idea," Lily said as she lifted her laptop out of the suitcase and put it on the small desk in the corner of the room. Fifteen minutes later, Paul was back, with a latte in each hand and his laptop case swung over his shoulder. "For you, madame," Paul said, handing one of the lattes to Lily. He set the other one down on the rolling tray next to the hospital bed, then put his laptop case down on the floor. He sat down in one of the straight-backed chairs near the bed and looked at Lily. "Now, tell me exactly what's going on? What happened?" Lily sighed and sat back down in the upholstered chair. "I'm sure it's nothing, Paul. I had my regular check-up with my internist and for some reason, my blood pressure alarmed him. He took it several times with long intervals between each of the tests, evidently hoping it would go down. I think he thought it was that old syndrome of doctor's office anxiety causing my blood pressure to spike so high. But it didn't go down. In fact, each time he took it, it was a few points higher. I tried my best to talk him out of it, but he insisted I check into the hospital for some further tests. So here I am." "Well, that doesn't sound so dire," Paul said reassuringly. "I'm sure everything will be fine. And a day of rest certainly won't do you any harm. Did you call Gram?" "No, I didn't want to worry Celia. I'll tell her all about it once it's over." "Probably a good idea," Paul agreed. They sat there in a companionable silence for a few minutes, and Paul found himself wishing he could talk to Lily about McKenna. But he didn't want to cause her any undue stress. Once she was back home and had been given a clean bill of health, he'd have a heart-to-heart with her. She needed to know that the time was long past for her to be honest with McKenna, to tell her granddaughter about Jamie's death and about Jamie Angel. However, he was afraid it was too late, now, that Lily had waited too long to be honest with her granddaughter.. Chapter 16 Monday, December 6, 2010 McKenna McKenna lay across the bed, eyes closed, fists clenched at her side. She felt a movement on the bed and opened her eyes to see Kitty staring down at her, golden eyes shining. McKenna sniffed, then reached out a hand to the cat to pet her, saying, "Hi Kitty. You know you may be the only in this whole world that I trust." Kitty moved against McKenna's hand and meowed. McKenna sat and hauled the silky black cat into her lap. As she petted Kitty's back, she heard the rumbling of purring and smiled, thinking how easy it was to please cats compared to how difficult it was to please humans. She was at a loss as to how she felt and what to do. She had started to think she and her grandmother might somehow someday come to terms. But with the discovery of what she considered the Jamie Angel betrayal McKenna felt that was no longer an option. And as for Paul Long, she didn't know what to think about that. Paul kissing her had taken her totally by surprise. And so had her reaction. She had enjoyed the kiss and had even kissed him back. What was up with that? She stopped petting Kitty and got a yowl in return so started petting her again. "Spoiled, are we?" McKenna whispered, as if there were someone in the house who could hear her. After a few more minutes of petting, Kitty moved off McKenna's lap, stretched, then leaped down from the bed. "So much for your loyalty," McKenna said to the departing cat. She stood up, stretched and walked over to the desk at one end of the room. She'd set up her laptop there and now she sat down and logged on. She avoided checking her e-mail, not feeling like communicating with anyone about anything. Instead she Googled Jamie Angel, determined to find out what she could about her grandmother's betrayal. Millions of results showed up on the screen. She scrolled down the list on the first page, clicking on a couple of the links. They didn't tell her much more than she already knew: Jamie Angel had been a best-selling book series that had been turned into a successful cable TV series. She found a link to an Entertainment Weekly article that had explored the mystery of Jessica Caviletti. She thought she remembered reading it a year or so ago when it had first appeared in the magazine. Despite the best efforts of EW's investigative report, Jessica Caviletti's true identity was still a well-kept secret. McKenna clicked the back button and read another article that was a review of the TV series. Evidently the reviewer was quite a fan because the article was superlatively positive, because exclamation points were sprinkled liberally throughout the text. She scrolled down more articles, looking for something negative, for some kind of expose or criticism of either the book series or the TV show but was unable to find anything but praise for both. She thought she'd seen one of the episodes a year or two ago but couldn't remember much about it. Deciding to try to find an episode online, she did another search and found the link to the video section of the Jamie Angle website. One of the components of the site was the number of clicks on each episode. Surprisingly enough, the episodes had had millions of viewers and those were just online numbers, not counting the viewers of the cable series when it aired on television. McKenna selected one of the videos at random and settled down with her laptop to watch the show. It was an hour show, but minus the commercials, took only 42 minutes to watch. When it was over, she sat there thinking about what she'd just seen. Actually, it had been an excellent program, at least this one episode had been well- worth watching. For the next two hours or so, she watched three more shows. Amazingly enough, those shows had also been excellent. McKenna sat there thinking through what she was feeling and realized that she'd been convinced the shows would be exploitive or manipulative but they had been neither. They were down-to-earth, grounded and totally believable, despite the fact that they were about angels. McKenna felt the urge to cry for her lost twin. The actor who played the part of Jamie in the show didn’t' look anything like her brother but he did have a similar sweet smile and loving personality. Jamie had been what she now considered the "good" twin. She herself had been, in her own mind, of course, the "bad" twin. Jamie had been a helpful child while McKenna had been difficult, unwilling to do chores or even to keep her room halfway picked up. There had been times when her attitude had driven her mother to tears and her father to yelling. Jamie, sweetheart that he was, sometimes tried to run interference for his sister but she resented that a much as she resented her mother crying and her father shouting at her. Jamie had always done his homework on time, kept his room shipshape, helped his mom with the dishes and his dad with the yardwork. Despite herself, McKenna had sometimes thought that her parents had probably wished she'd been the one to die rather than Jamie. He'd been such a star child, and she'd been such a failure, at least in her own eyes. At least her Grandpa Josh had loved her a lot. She was somehow the apple of his eye and she'd reveled in the attention he'd showered on her. That had continued until his death five years after Jamie died. After Grandpa Josh's death, McKenna had felt there was no one on her side, no one to stand up for her. Physically worn out and emotionally exhausted, she climbed onto the bed and pulled an afghan up to her chin. In a few moments, she was joined by Kitty who snuggled under a corner of afghan. Soon both were sound asleep. Chapter 17 Monday, December 6, 2010 Lily After Paul left her hospital room, Lily felt at loose ends. She powered up the laptop, thinking she do something with her work-in-progress. But she felt discombobulated, one of her favorite words but not one of her favorite states. She loved writing but sometimes she had to prime the pump, so to speak, to get herself immersed in her work. She thought back 20 years ago when she'd first begun to write in earnest. She had been alone and lonely and only writing offered her much comfort. She'd carved out a small space for herself, with a makeshift desk and chair. She had no typewriter, just a pad of paper and a handful of pencils, but they had served her purpose just fine. At first, she'd done mostly doodles, cartoon figures, stick figures, few if any words. Then, slowly, the words had begun to flow. Her first efforts were more a journal than fiction. But she decided that she would take whatever came. Actually, she had all the time in the world because she had no real life. But she refused to feel sorry for herself or to bemoan her circumstances. She'd done this to herself and had no one to blame but herself. For several months, she covered the paper with her thoughts and feelings, getting it all out and down in black and white. Then, gradually, almost so gradually that she didn't notice, the words started to change. She dabbled with character names, then with locations. Then she scribbled this idea for a plot and that idea for a plot. Finally, she came upon one that really caught her fancy. She had watched a TV program that she never thought she'd watch – Touched by an Angel. To her amazement, the program had resonated with her, why she couldn't fathom. From out of nowhere came the idea of Jamie as an angel put here on earth to help others. She began to toy with this notion and soon and fifty pages of Jamie as an angel. Then she decided he needed an earth-bound sidekick so she created one, Amy Sue, a Chinese woman in her 60s. After that, she could barely keep up with the words as they rushed from her mind and crowded the paper. Soon, she had five hundred sheets of paper covered with pencil scribblings. She knew that somehow she had to get her hands on a typewriter or a computer. One day when she had dropped into the Rivermont Library to pick up a mystery she'd put on request, she was astounded to see something brand new there – an array of shiny computers lined up on a long table, with a desk chair in front of each computer. Seeing the computers, she felt like she'd died and gone to heaven, no disrespect intended. She was on friendly terms with the library workers, and she talked with one of her favorites, a delightful Southern belle red-head about her own age named Savanna. "So anyone can use these computers?" Lily had asked Savanna. "Sure thing, honey," Savanna had drawled in response. "All you need is a library card and some know-how. Have you used a computer before?" Lily laughed and nodded, saying, "Once upon a time not too long ago, I was quite the expert. So how can I get started?" Savanna led Lily over to the first computer in the row and logged her in using her library card number. "Now, you're going to need a diskette to save your work on. Do you have one or do you want to buy one from us?" Lily paused a moment, then asked, "How much does one cost?" Savanna smiled, knowing from past conversations that Lily was on a tight budget and said, "We sell them for a dollar each. You could get them cheaper somewhere else but I’d suppose that right now, right this minute, we're the most convenient for you." Lily said, "I don't have enough money with me right now but next time I come in, I'll buy one. In the meantime, I'll sit here and figure out how to use this word processing program. It's not one that I'm familiar with." From then on, Lily spent every free moment she had at the library, typing her writing into the computer and saving it onto a diskette she’d purchased from the library. She reverently protected her diskette, feeling like it was the most valuable thing she owned. She'd made a handwritten label for it with the title Jamie Angel, which was what she was calling her story or book or whatever it was. The library also provided printing services but at 15 cents a page Lily felt she would have to save up the money to get a print-out. Sometimes it was difficult to wrap her mind around how she'd gone from having enough money for anything she wanted to not being able to afford $15 to print the 100 or so pages she'd typed into the computer so far. But it certainly made her appreciate things more. During her workday cleaning other people's houses, she let her mind wander to her writing as her hands focused on the tasks at hand. To her surprise, she found inspiration and ideas in the homes she cleaned, from the family photos to the books lining the bookshelves to the knickknacks her customers had scatter throughout their homes.. Each home had its own personality and atmosphere. To capture her ideas and thoughts, on her diskette, she'd created a separate file for notes and jottings about location and people and character names. At one point, she'd begun to worry about her diskette and wondered if she should purchase another one as a back-up. She'd approached Savanna about it and the redhead had provided her with a better alternative. "Honey, we'll just store your stuff on our server in addition to it being on your diskette. How about that? We have plenty of room, especially for one of our best customers." Savanna had set up a special directory for Lily to store her work, and Lily had felt relieved at this solution and felt able to stop worrying about her diskette. One day as she sat typing at the library, she found herself humming softly to herself under her breath. Grinning, she looked around sheepishly, but fortunately, she was the only patron at the computer table so her humming wasn’t bothering anyone. But she was so surprised to find herself feeling a low-key happiness, a feeling she hadn’t had in what seemed like forever. It delighted her that the writing brought her happiness. Shortly after arriving in Rivermont, she’d found a nearby AA meeting and had been faithfully each week. At the next meeting, she shared with the group her newly found happiness and the reason for it. After the meeting, several of the members had gathered around and congratulated her on finding what one woman called, “her passion.” As Lily rode the bus home that evening, she pondered the woman’s words. In her previous jobs, she’d felt no passion, no happiness, only a grinding ambition that overshadowed everything else in her life, including her family. This was a different feeling altogether. There was no ambition connected to it, just the desire to do her best. Once she’d reached 200 pages with her manuscript, she reached a point of not knowing how to proceed. She didn’t know how to end the story, how to wrap it up. As she thought about it, she began to realize that there was no ending, not really. It was the story of Jamie’s various adventures. So it would actually be a series. She decided to end this first installment with the disappearance of Amy Sue, the Chinese woman who was Jamie’s earth-bound sidekick. That would keep readers hanging and encourage them to come back for more. Looking back, Lily had realized that writing the Jamie Angel series had saved her life. It had given purpose and passion to her life, two things she thought she'd lost forever. She could have never in a million years guessed that the series would become what it did: a mega popular book series and a hit cable TV program. She'd also developed a Jamie Angel website that she still maintained. It had become a joyful thing to read the messages posted by fans. Many of them had told of life-changing events that had happened to them because of their devotion to either the books or the TV show. Lily had set up an anonymous e-mail account that enable her to respond to fans with thanks for their messages, but which still kept her identity a secret. She wasn't sure why it was so important that no one found out who she was, but she was convinced deep down that Jamie Angel was better served if no one knew who she was. She was concerned that Jamie Angel would be destroyed if anyone found out that a drunk driving grandmother had killed her grandson, then created a character with his name. There were times when she wished she'd selected another name, any other name, rather than Jamie. But it had been one of those things where she knew she had to use Jamie's name and so she had. It had been the time of her life to be able to in some small way pay tribute to her lost grandson and to have his memory be of use to others. She knew she was going to have to tell McKenna about Jamie Angel but she was reluctant to do so. She feared that McKenna would think she was taking advantage of Jamie's death for her own benefit when that wasn't the case at all. She'd not kept one penny of the money she earned from the Jamie Angel series. She'd given it all away to charity. With Paul's help, her contributions had all been made anonymously. She leaned her head back on the mound of pillows propped behind her and contemplated her next steps with McKenna. The time had come to lay it all out on the table for her granddaughter. First, she would have to tell her the whole truth about Jamie's death. Then she would have to tell her about the court case, the probation, her decision to relocate to Rivermont and leave her family behind. One of the main driving reasons behind her coming to Rivermont was that was where Jamie's father Matt had insisted on having him buried. Matt had grown up in Rivermont and his family had a family plot at the beautiful cemetery on the edge of town. Traci had protested having Jamie buried in Rivermont but she was so devastated that she didn't have the will to fight Matt on his decision. For the past 20 years, Lily had made a daily pilgrimage to Jamie's grave, sometimes bringing fresh-cut flowers, sometimes balloons. She'd told no one about her daily visits but she rather thought Celia and Paul knew about them but had held them in their confidence. She was glad that she'd made a quick visit to the cemetery this morning before her doctor's appointment because otherwise she would have missed her daily talk with Jamie. Time to sleep, Lily thought, wondering what the next day's tests would reveal. Chapter 18 Tuesday, December 7, 2010 McKenna Late Tuesday afternoon McKenna was in the kitchen pouring a glass of milk for herself and a saucer of milk for Kitty when the door bell rang. The unexpected sound startled her and she spilled a few drops of milk on the counter. She grabbed a paper towel and threw it on top of the spill, then headed to the front door. To her surprise, Cheryl Hancock stood there, a broad smile on her face. "Cheryl, how wonderful to see you," McKenna greeted the woman. She stepped aside to usher Cheryl inside. In the foyer, Cheryl reached out her arms to hug the younger woman. The gentle gesture tore at McKenna's heart and she couldn’t stop the tears from coming. Cheryl saw the tears and asked, "Sweetie, what's wrong?" McKenna shook her head then burst into sobs. Cheryl led her into the living room and sat down with her on one of the sofas. A few moments later, McKenna managed to stop crying. Cheryl gave her a handful of tissues from her purse so McKenna could mop away the tears and blow her nose. "Now, tell me what's wrong, dear," Cheryl said, patting McKenna's knee. McKenna hesitated, then whispered, "Can you keep what I'm about to tell you a secret? Promise not to tell anyone?" Cheryl considered, then said, "I think so." McKenna accepted that and said, "I don't even know where to begin." "The beginning is always a good place for that," Cheryl said with a smile. McKenna took a deep breath and gave Cheryl a flicker of a smile. She reached out and took Cheryl's hand and looked into her eyes. "First, I'd like to tell you how much you mean to me. You're so special to me, and I don't even have the words to tell you how special." Both women had tears in their eyes. McKenna gave a small sigh, then said, "Okay, now for what's upsetting me. You probably don't know this but Lily is at the hospital having some tests made." "I hope it’s nothing serious," Cheryl said. "Evidently her blood pressure was elevated at her doctor's appointment yesterday, enough so that the doctor hospitalized her overnight. I haven't heard anything from her since yesterday so I don't know the results of the tests." McKenna paused, then continued. "Anyway, yesterday afternoon, Lily called and asked me to put a few things in a suitcase for her. She had arranged for Paul to come by and pick up the suitcase." Here McKenna paused again, then said, "Paul is really a great guy, you know." Cheryl said, "Yes, I do know." "He was going to take me sledding yesterday afternoon. I told him I'd never been so we were going to Rivermont Park, where evidently there's some kind of awesome sledding hill." "Well, that sounds delightful," Cheryl said. "But it didn't happen. You see, while I was gathering up the things Lily had asked for, Kitty, bless her heart, got into the closet and knocked over a stack of boxes. When I went to put things back in order, I discovered a humongous secret that Lily has been keeping from the world." Cheryl looked at her quizzically, and asked, "Surely not the world?" "Oh, yes, the world, exactly," McKenna insisted. "All right, explain," Cheryl said. "The papers in the boxes Kitty knocked over all pertained to Jamie Angel. Have you ever heard of Jamie Angel?" "Of course," Cheryl answered. "The whole world has heard of Jamie Angel. The book series, the television shows, all of that..." "Exactly," McKenna said in a satisfied tone of voice. "The whole world. To make a long story short, Lily is the mysterious creator of Jamie Angel. Her pseudonym is Jessica Caviletti." Cheryl slowly shook her head, saying, "That's really, really hard to believe. Are you sure?" "Yes," McKenna answered. "The papers were very explicit. Then Paul came by and saw me buried in the files, and he verified what I was assuming. He didn't want to because of course Lily had sworn him to secrecy." "I don't know what to say. This is so unbelievable," Cheryl exclaimed. "That's really big. Everyone's been trying to uncover the mysterious Jessica Caviletti's real identity. And here she is in little old Rivermont." "Well, when Paul found me, I was sobbing and furious and everything in between. You know about my twin brother, named Jamie, of course. You also know that Lily killed him in a drunk driving accident 20 years ago." She looked up at Cheryl, hoping she wouldn't see dislike on the older woman's face at her harsh words. But Cheryl's only expression was one of concern for McKenna. "I can understand why you reacted so strongly." Cheryl reached out to hug McKenna. "What can I do?" "Well, I need to confront Lily. I have so many things to say to her. And I don't want to do it alone. Could you be with me when I talk to her? Then, eventually, if it's all right and if we can work it out with the court, I'd like to come stay with you. Feeling the way I do about Lily, I can't stay with her anymore." Cheryl was silent for a long time, and McKenna wondered if she was ever going to answer. McKenna felt herself flushing, assuming she'd overstepped the bounds of propriety. Evidently, she had upset Cheryl by asking to come live with her. Cheryl sat down on the sofa opposite the one on which McKenna was seated. She leaned back against the cushions and began speaking again, still in a soft voice that McKenna had to strain to hear. Finally, Cheryl said softly, "I can't exactly tell you why but that just won't be possible, my dear. If there were any way to make it happen, I would. But that's just not in the cards for us." McKenna bowed her head, not wanting Cheryl to see the pain in her eyes. Cheryl reached out a hand to pat McKenna's arm, saying, "You're misunderstanding what I'm saying. It isn't that I don't want you to live with me. I think I would like that more than anything in the world. But my future doesn't hold that kind of happiness." Cheryl sighed, then stood up and began pacing around Lily's living room. "Let's talk about this in the car, on the way to the nursing home. We're going to meet Robert there and then go on to dinner." Five minutes later, the women were settled in Cheryl's car, a smart little red Mustang convertible. McKenna was delighted with it and told Cheryl so. "Yes, it's a sweetheart of a car, but it's not really mine." She paused a moment, then continued, "To be honest and just between you and me, Robert leased it for me. I'm not in a financial position to have something so fancy. He's such a nice man, and I'm sorry that…" she broke off and turned to look at McKenna. "It's time for me to finish telling you what I stared earlier." She began speaking in a soft, almost inaudible voice, and McKenna had to strain to make out the words. "You know a little about my psychic abilities. I know Leslie shared some of that with you. I don't know how much you believe in psychic powers but let me assure you, from the bottom of my heart and with all the honesty I can muster, they do exist and I do have them." "I hadn't wanted to tell you this, at least not now, but I have no choice. So here goes. I've had a vision that I'm going to die. I don't know when but somehow the things I'm seeing make me think it will be soon. There's a fire involved but that's about all I know. One other thing I know is that I'll be with Leslie again, on the other side, as I think of it. That came through loud and clear in the vision. So although I'll miss you and my life here, I'm overjoyed at the thought of being with my beloved Leslie once again. I can hardly wait. But I'm thinking there are still some things I need to do here, so I'm waiting to find out what those are, to sent in their direction." McKenna sat there thinking over Cheryl's words. They mostly didn't make sense to her. She'd known about Cheryl's psychic abilities but she didn't much believe in that kind of thing. She only believed in what she could see and hear and touch. She was very much a five-senses kind of person. But Leslie had been totally convinced as to the existence of her mother's ability to see the future, to know what was going to happen before it happened. Leslie had never shared any details with her but McKenna knew there had been times when Cheryl's ability had scared her. Leslie was afraid her mother knew if and when Leslie was going to die and Leslie didn't want to know that. Wise Cheryl may have known if and when Leslie was going to die but she'd never said anything to Leslie. They drove along in silence, as McKenna considered Cheryl's words about her imminent death. What would that feel like, McKenna wondered? How would she react if she knew she was going to die in the near future? What would she do differently? How would she spend her last days? As she thought about that, she started to think about Lily. Somehow her anger toward Lily had dissipated. As she thought about it, she realized that she had become sure that Lily had intended no disrespect by using Jamie's name. She had probably used it as a way to continue to feel close to Jamie, even though he was gone. Suddenly McKenna no longer wanted to confront Lily. She wanted to feel close once again to her grandmother, the way she and Jamie had when they were little. Lily had been a good grandmother, despite the long hours she put in at work. On weekends, she and Grandpa Josh always made time for the twins and the four of them had had a wide variety of adventures. Their parents had had their own problems and there were times when the Mattingly home wasn't a very pleasant place to be. The fighting and arguments had started early in the twins' childhood and divorce had been inevitable. Jamie's tragic death had hastened the end of the marriage. When the accident happened, life as the Mattinglys knew it ended. Traci had gotten custody of McKenna, and Matt had done his best to visit his daughter. But the day came when he took a job in Los Angeles and after that, his visits to McKenna had been few and far between. McKenna had suffered from the loss of her father. When she was in college, he died of a heart attack. His parents brought him back to St. Louis for burial, and McKenna was heartbroken over his death. Three years later, Traci had died of breast cancer and McKenna found herself without a family. Her Grandpa Josh had died years ago, and she had no idea where her grandmother was. No one in the family would ever talk about her or the accident that killed Jamie. It had gotten so bad that finally no one would even talk about Jamie. That had hurt McKenna because it was like losing him all over again. McKenna's drinking had started in college, as part of the hard-partying crowd she ran around with at Mizzou. Rooming with Leslie was the only thing that kept McKenna out of trouble and in school. Leslie had laid down the law after the first month when she saw the direction McKenna was taking her life. "You can party on weekends as much as you like. But weeknights you'll be here in our dorm room studying. I'm not going to let you throw away your life. And that's final." And McKenna had followed Leslie's rules. She loved her friend and felt protective of her because of Leslie's heart condition. Both young women had graduated with honors, McKenna with a dual major in computer science and English, and Leslie with a degree in elementary education. Leslie wanted more than anything in the world to teach kindergartners. And she'd gotten her wish for three years before her heart condition hospitalized her. For those three years, McKenna had reveled in her friend's happiness and fulfillment teaching five-year-olds. McKenna thought it would have driven her crazy but more power to Leslie. McKenna herself had not been as fortunate in her career. She drifted from one web developer position to another, never quite finding what she was looking for. Leslie had been forthright with her, telling her it was her fault, not the fault of the jobs. "Sweets, you don't know who you are and you don't know what you want. So it's easier to blame your unhappiness on the job of the moment rather than on yourself. But on yourself is the only place your unhappiness is. I wish I could fix it for you. I wish I could do something for you. But you're the only one who can do that." Leslie never got to see her friend have any happiness, career-wise or love-wise or any-wise. Leslie had died at 25, and McKenna felt that loss more deeply than the loss of her parents and grandparents. It was on the same level as the loss of Jamie. Now, riding along with Cheryl, McKenna said, "I miss Leslie every day. She was my best friend and the only one who ever got me. She saved my life in college by insisting that I control my hard-partying ways. She got me through school, you know." Cheryl had chuckled at that and said, "Actually, I do know. She told me all about it. She was something. A wise old woman in a young woman's body. I miss her every minute of every day. And I feel so blessed to have had her as my daughter, although 25 years wasn't nearly enough." Cheryl paused, then continued. "Do you have any idea how joyous it feels to know that I'll see Leslie again, be with her?" McKenna shook her head, saying, "You know that I don't believe --" she stopped, considering her words carefully. "I don't know what I believe and what I don't believe. What I know is that I don't know anything for sure and no one else knows anything for sure. It's just all opinion. Forgive me if this offends you but even with religion, that's all opinion. No one knows anything for sure and never will. We have the great books of religion to guide us or shape our beliefs, like the Bible and the Koran and the Torah, but they're just guides. No one can prove the existence or the non-existence of God. No one can prove the existence or non-existence of an afterlife. I'm so glad for you that you can believe in an afterlife where you'll be reunited with Leslie. I hope you're right. I hope that's true. I would so love to be with Leslie again. And with Jamie -- oh, how I'd love that. But I just don't know. No one knows." "You're a very bright woman, my dear McKenna. And you're absolutely right, no one knows anything for sure. All we can do is have faith and believe what we believe." They had arrived at the Rivermont Nursing Home, Cheryl parked her Mustang near the main entrance. She started to get out of the car when she exclaimed, "Oh my, God. There's a fire." She rushed out of the car, dialing on her cell phone as she ran toward the front door. McKenna got out of the car and followed after her. But by the time she got to the door, a convoy of fire trucks and emergency responder vehicles had arrived, blocking her path. She walked up to one of the firemen and said, "I have to go in there. A dear friend of mine just raced through the door and down the hall toward the fire." "Sorry, ma'am. It's too dangerous. Don't worry, we'll find your friend. Now, please just step away and let us do our job." The fireman walked toward the building, and McKenna walked down the side of the building toward the end where Cheryl had headed. She stood on the sidewalk, not sure what to do next. Then to her shock, something came flying out of the window closest to her, almost hitting her. As the object hit the ground, she saw that it was a straight-backed chair. Next out the window was an older woman, clutching a gray kitten in her arms. Cheryl was right behind her helping her through the window and onto the ground. McKenna ran over to help, just catching the woman as she collapses to the ground, falling into a snowdrift. McKenna took off her parka and covered the woman on the ground with it. Cheryl called out to McKenna, "Take care of Mrs. Long. I have to go back in and find Robert." McKenna tried to hold Cheryl back but the older woman pulled loose and climbed back through the shattered window. McKenna began yelling for help, and attracted the attention of the nearby paramedics. Two men wheeled a gurney over and lifted Mrs. Long onto it. "Is she all right?" McKenna asked the men. The older of the paramedics said, "Yes, ma'am. I think she's just in shock. We'll take her to hospital and they'll probably keep her overnight. Do you know her? Can you take the kitten?" McKenna said, "Yes, her name is Celia Long and she's a friend of my -- my grandmother. And yes, I'll take the kitten. But you have to go find the woman who rescued her. She went back into the building to find someone else." The younger of the paramedics said, "I'll radio the firefighters to let them know." McKenna took the kitten from the older paramedic and watched as the younger one radioed the firefighters about Cheryl. The kitten was trembling and so was McKenna. Her mind kept flashing on Cheryl's premonition of her death, and McKenna feared that premonition was about to come true. Chapter 19 Tuesday, December 7, 2010 Cheryl As she went back through the window into Celia's room, Cheryl put her muffler around her face to block out the billowing smoke that threatened to overcome her. Where was Robert? Why hadn't he been the one helping Celia out of her room and away from the fire? Suddenly she knew that Robert wasn't in here, wasn't in Celia's room, wasn't in the nursing home. She'd been wrong about his whereabouts. He must not have arrived yet. Celia must not have realized why she'd gone back into the nursing home or else she would have stopped her. Or perhaps Celia had been unconscious. Cheryl stood in what she assumed was the middle of Celia's room, disoriented and having difficulty breathing through the heavy smoke despite the muffler covering her face. What to do? Back out the window, of course. Robert would be out there, not in here. As she turned back to the open window, she tripped over something in the middle of the floor. Bending down, she saw that it was a person lying crumpled on the floor, a small figure lying in a heap at her feet. She bent down and grabbed the person under the arms and began dragging him or her toward the window. Even though the person was small, the body was a dead weight and it was an effort to drag it. And the smoke billowing around her was increasing, making it more and more difficult for her to catch her breath. Inch by inch, she dragged the body toward the window. It seemed to her that the room had become inordinately bigger and that she'd never reach the window. She was overcome by a paroxysm of coughing and halted in her tracks to try to stop the coughs. When she was finally able to get the coughing spasms under control, she began once again to drag the body to the window. With one might effort, she shoved the body through the window, then tried to follow behind. She was able to get her head out the opening but then collapsed in the window frame. Vaguely, she could feel something sharp on her neck and realized that a shard of glass from the broken window had cut her. Outside the window, she could make out flashing lights and a low growl of a siren. She tried to call out for help but only a croak came out of her mouth. Then she felt arms around her, tugging her forward and she thought she'd been rescued. But just then, she felt warmer, gentler arms around her and she smelled the sweet scent of the perfume Leslie had favored. "Mom, it's me. Let go, just let go." And Cheryl let go. Chapter 20 Tuesday, December 7, 2010 Paul Earlier on Tuesday, Paul had called Lily's house from the office to check on McKenna but the phone went to voice mail. He wondered why McKenna wasn't answering the phone but decided she probably didn't feel comfortable answering Lily's phone. He decided to stop by Lily's house on his way home from the office to see how McKenna was doing. She didn't have any transportation so he was sure she'd be there. As he closed up shop for the day, he told his secretary that Lily Bannister might be calling him from the hospital, and he asked her to transfer the call to his cell phone. "How is Mrs. Bannister?" his secretary Linda asked. Lily was one of everyone's favorites. "Well, hopefully, she's fine. She's in the hospital undergoing some tests today, and I'm expecting her to call at any time asking me to take her home." "I'll transfer her call if she calls," Linda said, giggling at how silly that sounded. It was completely dark by the time Paul arrived at Lily's house and to his dismay, the house was dark. Where could McKenna be? He unlocked the front door with the spare key Lily had given him and was greeted by Kitty's yowl. He switched on the foyer light and bent down to greet the cat. As he raised backup, he spotted a piece of paper on the floor under the entry foyer table. He reached down to pick it up and saw that it was a note addressed to Lily and signed by McKenna. He debated about reading it because it was for Lily but quickly put aside any qualms about invading her privacy. The note read: Lily. A dear friend of mine came by for a visit this afternoon, and she's taking me out for a bite to eat. McKenna. Hmm, Paul thought. Certainly a bare-bones note. No welcome home. No sorry I'm not here to greet you. Well, at least she wrote a note. That's a step in the right direction., he told himself. He knew there would be some rough going when Lily realized that McKenna had discovered her secret, especially when she learns how McKenna reacted to the knowledge. Paul debated what to do next. Might as well go home and wait for Lily's call. Or maybe he should try her at the hospital. Yes, that's what he would do. Just then Lily's phone rang. Paul hesitated, wondering whether he should answer it. He let the call go to voice mail but quickly picked up the receiver when he heard his grandmother's voice begin to leave a message. "Hi, dear Lily. Just checking to see how you're doing and if you're home yet." "Hi Gram, it's me Paul, here at Lily's house." "Paulie, how delightful to hear your voice. Did you just bring Lily home from the hospital>" "No, Gram, I'm still waiting to hear from her about picking her up. I stopped by her house to check on McKenna but she's not here." "I know, dear. She's here. It turns out that she knows that friend of your Dad's, Cheryl Hancock, and the three of them are here visiting me before they go out to dinner." Paul was momentarily speechless at this news. In a puzzled voice, he said, "McKenna knows Cheryl?" "Yes," Celia Long replied. "It's really an interesting story and quite a coincidence. It turns out that McKenna and Cheryl's daughter were best friends in school and after, up until –" Celia paused then lowered her voice, "until the daughter died." "Oh," had been Paul's only response as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that McKenna knew Cheryl. "Anyway," Celia continued, "I'm concerned about Lily. Can you call her at the hospital and see what's going on and then let me know? Please?" "Of course," Paul answered. "I'll call the hospital now and then call you right back." Paul took out his cell phone, intending to dial the hospital's phone number and found that his phone was dead. He must have forgotten to charge it. He resorted to the old-fashioned method and used Lily's landline to call information for the hospital's telephone number. He let the automated system connect him with the hospital. He asked the operator for Lily's room and waited impatiently as Muzak trill in his ear. Finally, after what seemed like an interminable wait, the operator came back on the line and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but that patient has been discharged from the hospital. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Paul thought for a moment, wondering why Lily hadn't called him and where she was. Then he realized that she probably had called him but couldn't reach him because his phone had died. "Yes, can you please connect me with the nurse's station on that floor?" After another seemingly interminable wait wading through drippy Muzak, a chirpy voice came on the line saying "Third floor South nurse's station. How may I help you?" In a peripheral part of his mind, Paul thought how bizarre it was that even hospital personnel were doing the chipper customer service routine. "Yes, I'm trying to find out about a patient on that floor, Lily Bannister. I was supposed to pick her up to take her home but the switchboard operator told me she'd been discharged." "Let me check, sir," the nurse said, putting him into hellacious Muzak once again. He just barely restrained the urge to bang the phone on the desk. After a comparatively short wait, the nurse was back on the line. "Is this Mr. Long?" she asked. "Yes, this is Paul Long." "Well, Mrs. Bannister left a message for you. She asked us to tell you that she'd tried to call you to tell you she was being discharged but was unable to reach you. So she called a taxi to take her home." "What time was that?" Paul asked. Once again, the nurse said, "Let me check, sir." To Paul's relief, this time she didn't put him on hold but evidently covered the receiver with her hand because he could hear the sound of murmuring voices in the background but couldn't make out what they were saying. Then the nurse was back on the phone, saying, "The discharge nurse says it was just a few minutes ago." Paul thanked the nurse and hung up. He thought for a moment, then tried Lily's cell phone. The phone rang and rang but never went to voice mail. He wondered what that was all about. When cell phones worked as they were supposed to, they were one of the greatest inventions since sliced bread, as the saying goes. But when they don't work correctly, they're horrid, just like the nursery rhyme girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead. Not knowing what to do next, he called Celia but her phone went to voice mail also. He next tried the nursing home and got no answer. That worried him because the nursing home had someone on duty 24/7 to answer the home's main phone line. His next call was to his father, and Paul was so grateful to hear his dad's rumbling voice say, "Yes, son?" "Dad, I just tried to call Gram and got her voice mail and then I called the home's landline and there was no answer. Do you have any idea what could be going on?" "No, but I'm just a couple of blocks away from the home so I'll be able to find out what's going on. Do you want me to call you back when I get there?" "Actually, no, Dad. Could you stay on the line with me? I can't locate Lily either. I'm at her house and there's a note here from McKenna saying that Cheryl picked her up and they're meeting you at the nursing home, and then you're going on to dinner." "All true," Robert Long said. "Oh my God!" "Dad, what is it?" Paul demanded. "The nursing home is on fire. The place is surrounded by fire trucks and police and emergency vehicles. You'd better get over here right now." With that, Robert Long ended the call, leaving Paul talking into a dead cell phone. Without wasting another moment, Paul was out the front door of Lily's house and into the driver's seat of his Ranger. Ten minutes later he was at the nursing home, or as close as the emergency responders would let him. He parked the Ranger a block away from the nursing home and set out on foot, heading toward the end of the nursing home where his grandmother's room was located. He saw McKenna standing off to one side, behind the caution tape strung around the building. She spotted him and ran to him. Paul automatically opened his arms to her and she just as automatically let him enclose her in his warmth. "What's going on?" he asked. "Where's Gram?" McKenna stepped back and looked up into Paul's eyes. "She's on her way to the hospital. The paramedic says she'll be fine. She just inhaled some smoke. The paramedic said they'll probably keep her overnight." "I'll go over there in a minute. Have you seen my Dad?" Paul asked. "I was on the phone with him when he got here a few minutes ago." "No, I haven't seen him. But I've been staying close here, waiting to see if anyone's found Cheryl." "Cheryl? What do you mean about finding Cheryl?" "She rescued your grandmother – and this little kitten here," McKenna said, taking the shivering kitten from under her coat. "Then she went back inside, saying she was looking for Robert." "But Dad wasn't in there. She must have been confused." McKenna groaned and edged closer to the building. "She was convinced he was trapped in there somewhere, and she was determined to save him. Oh Paul, this is awful. This is worse than awful." "Let me go see what I can find out. I'll look for my Dad too. You stay here and I'll be back in a moment." Chapter 21 Tuesday, December 7, 2010 Lily Earlier that day, by the time Lily had finally gotten back to her hospital room, it was almost 5 p.m. She sat perched on the edge of chair next to the bed, waiting for her doctor, and feeling as if she'd undergone every medical test known to mankind. This whole thing was annoying her. She felt fine, in fact, she felt great. She took good care of her body, with healthy food, a boatload of vitamins, regular exercise, all the things doctors recommended. She wondered if her concern over McKenna could have been the cause of the high blood pressure. Well, she'd soon know what the verdict was. A few minutes after 5, Dr. Ridgeley came in the room, a broad smile on her face. She came over to the chair where Lily was sitting and held out her hand, saying, "Congratulations! You're most likely the healthiest 70- year-old in the city." Lily shook the doctor's hand and grinned up at her, saying, "Maureen, you've brought the sunshine back to my day." Maureen shook her head and nodded toward the darkness outside. "No sunshine there, sweetie." "Can you visit for a moment? Or do you have to rush off somewhere?" Lily asked. "Actually, I have a few minutes to spare and I'd love to catch up with you. I've already stopped at the nurse's desk and signed your discharge papers so you might want to call someone to pick you up." Maureen sat down on the edge of Lily's hospital bed while Lily made a quick call to Paul to ask him to come pick her up when it was convenient for him. When she'd hung up the phone after leaving a message on Paul's voice mail, Lily asked, "So I'm thinking the spike in my blood pressure was an emotionally induced thing?" "That seems to be the case," Maureen answered. "It was down considerably today, and your other test results were excellent. Your heart is in good shape, no blockages, and there was no build-up in your arteries. So I'm giving you a clean bill of health, so to speak, with only one caveat. I want you to buy one of those home blood pressure machines, one of the digital ones. Then take your blood pressure on a weekly basis, and give me a call if it goes over the numbers I've entered on your discharge sheet." After a few minutes of chit-chat about Maureen's rather eclectic family, she said good-bye to Lily. "Now remember, at any rise in your blood pressure, give me a call." The doctor leaned down and gave Lily a quick hug. They'd known each other almost 10 years and had a friendship in addition to their doctor-patient relationship. Lily smiled up at Maureen and said, "I owe you and your family a home-cooked dinner. I'll give you a call." "I'll hold you to that," Maureen snapped back and waved good-bye as she walked out of the room. Lily gathered her things together in preparation for Paul's arrival. She'd only had him bring a few things to her last night so there wasn't much to pack. She looked at her watch, wondering what was taking Paul so long, then wondering if he'd received her message. She decided she'd wait a few more minutes before calling him again. She certainly didn't want to be a pest. Paul had been her dependable right hand man for so long that she was afraid that perhaps she expected too much of him. He'd never complained, and she knew he never would but still, she needed to not take advantage of him. Everything packed but her iPad, she once again sat down in the comfortable upholstered chair next to the windows and began surfing the Internet to see what was going on in the world. She loved the feeling of connectivity her iPad afforded her. Paul had tried to convince her to get an iPhone but she somehow didn't want to mix her tools together. Phones were for phone calls and text messages; the iPad was for surfing the Internet and taking pictures, still and video, playing games, reading books, listening to books, all the fun things. She wanted the two tools separate, and Paul was unable to change her mind. After checking her e-mail and reading the latest news updates on Yahoo, she settled back to continue reading the final installment in the Twilight series. Her addiction to the Twilight series was a closely guarded secret, known to only one person. That person was one of the employees at the library, a delightful college student who'd told her she couldn't go wrong by getting involved in the series. Lily had listened to the first book on the CD player in her Escape. Then she'd decided to check one of the hard cover books out of the library. Then, for the final two books, she'd checked out online versions from the library's database of books. The iPad was a perfect size and weight for easy reading and it also had an awesome feature where you could be reading along and then switch to the audio version of the book. She liked that flexibility. Half an hour later, she surfaced from her reading, realizing Paul still hadn't arrived. Biting the bullet and deciding she had to call him again, she put away the iPad and took out her cell phone, a plain-Jane, no-frills model. Paul's cell phone rang and rang, with no answer. Lily hung up and debated what to do next. She could try his office and see if he picked up there. Or she could call a cab. She decided to try the office because she knew he would want her to try every avenue to locate him. But the result was the same as she'd gotten with the cell phone, the office phone rang and rang, with no answer. Lily's next phone call was to the Rivermont taxi service. The dispatcher said he could have a taxi at the hospital's main entrance in 15 minutes. Lily said she'd be there. She gathered up her things and headed out of the hospital room and down the corridor to the nurse's station. She stood waiting at the nurse's station, trying to get someone's attention. She knew she had to pick up her discharge papers, and she was fairly certain that the head nurse would insist that she be transported to the hospital's front lobby by wheelchair. Lily hated the idea of sitting down in a wheelchair and having someone push her around. But she also realized that it was hospital policy and no matter how vociferously she argued against it, she would have no choice but to be wheeled around. She was worried about Paul. He always answered his cell phone. This was not like him at all. She debated about calling McKenna but decided she didn't want to. She'd see her soon enough when she arrived home. She finally cleared her throat rather ostentatiously and managed to grab the attention of one of the nurse's aids, who at Lily' request went in search of the head nurse on the floor. In a few minutes, the head nurse come to the desk, talked to Lily about her discharge and as expected, wheeled her into the elevator and then into the lobby. The taxi was waiting in the hospital portico, and the nurse took Lily right to the door of the vehicle. The taxi driver helped her out of the wheelchair and into the back seat of the taxi, then put her suitcase in the trunk. Lily thanked the nurse, then leaned back to relax and enjoy the fact that she was in good health, out of the hospital and on her way home. The taxi driver was a young black man who chatted with her about the weather and the upcoming holiday season. He had a musical, pleasant voice and Lily enjoyed hearing him talk about Devonne, his two-year old son. Evidently, Devonne was the greatest thing since sliced bread and his father was eager to tell the world about this miracle child. The taxi driver introduced himself as Jermaine, then handed his iPhone to Lily so she could see the pictures of Devonne. "He's precious," Lily agreed, handing the phone back to Jermaine. "How old did you say he is?" "He's almost two years old," Jermaine replied. "He was born on Christmas Eve. And when I call him a miracle baby, he really is. He was born almost three months early. His momma was in a car accident that triggered her going into labor. At first it was touch and go for both of them. But God was good and gave us two miracles. Momma and Devonne are right as rain, now. 'Course, it took awhile. Devonne was in the hospital for almost two months. Thank the good Lord that our health insurance covered most of the costs of that." "That's a wonderful story," Lily said, "and you have a wonderful attitude, Jermaine." In about 10 minutes, Jermaine arrived at Lily's home. He parked in the driveway and got her suitcase out of the trunk. Then he accompanied her to the front door, pushing her wheeled suitcase ahead of him. Lily unlocked the door and Jermaine followed behind her with the suitcase. "she reached into her handbag for the fare and a generous tip, and then took out a hundred dollar bill from a secret compartment in her billfold. "Jermaine, please buy Devonne a special Christmas present from one his poppa's customers," Lily said, handing the bill to Jermaine. "Oh, ma'am, I can't take this," Jermaine protested. "Please, it would make me happy to think of your little boy having something special, in addition to his special parents." Jermaine hesitated, then took the bill from Lily's hand and carefully put it into his own billfold. The young man thanked Lily and said good-bye. Lily stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to get her bearings. She felt there was something she was forgetting but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was. Then it hit her. The Escape was back at the hospital. She'd completely forgotten that she'd driven there following her doctor's appointment. She quickly opened the front door to see if Jermaine was still out front. And yes, his taxi still stood in her driveway. She walked over to the car and Jermaine lowered the driver's side window. "Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?" With a rueful expression on her face, Lily shook her head and said, "Well, Jermaine, do you have time for another fare?" "Sure," the young man replied with a wide grin. "Who's the fare and where are they going?" "Well, I'm embarrassed to say that the fare is me and I have to go back to the hospital. I forgot that I left my car there, parked in the hospital parking garage." Jermaine tried somewhat unsuccessfully to hide his snort of laughter, but Lily heard it and laughed in return, saying, "I know, I know, I'm such a doofus." A few minutes later, they were on their way back to the hospital, Lily having returned to the house to grab her handbag and lock the front door behind her. As they drove along, she wondered where McKenna was, if she'd been home and hadn't heard Lily's return or if she was out somewhere. I should have gone looking for her, Lily thought. She hadn't talked to her granddaughter for more than 24 hours, and she hoped things were all right with the girl. Even in this short time they'd had together, Lily had started to feel an almost overwhelming sense of responsibility for McKenna. It had been so long since Lily had any family in her life, and she'd forgotten how family could overtake your feelings. As Jermaine turned onto the highway, Lily noticed plumes of smoke off in the distance. She pointed them out to Jermaine and asked if he had any idea what they were. "No, ma'am, I don't. But I do have a police scanner here. Let me just turn it on and see what I can see." A moment later, Lily heard the crackle of the police radio and listened carefully to the staccato tones of the police dispatcher. Most of it she didn't understand. The codes they used were baffling and they spoke in shorthand, making the broadcast even more obscure. "Sounds like there's a major fire across town at some nursing home," Jermaine finally interpreted for her. Lily sat up straighter in the back seat of the taxi and asked in a tremulous voice, "Did they say which nursing home it is?" Jermaine turned quickly around to look at Lily, then turned back to keep his eyes on the highway. "Do you know someone who lives in a nursing home?" Jermaine asked, concern in his voice. "Yes, one of the dearest people in the world to me lives in the Rivermont Nursing Home," Lily answered. "Is that where the fire is?" Her voice trembled slightly as she asked the question. Jermaine hesitated before answering, and Lily knew what his answer was going to be. Chapter 22 Tuesday, December 7, 2010 Lily Fifteen minutes later, Jermaine arrived at the Rivermont Nursing Home. He parked as close as he could and then insisted on accompanying Lily on foot as she went in search of her friend. As they approached the crowd of people surrounding the nursing home, Lily spotted Paul and called out to him. "Paul, over here! Where's Celia?" Paul hurried toward her. "She's fine. McKenna says she inhaled some smoke and the paramedics took her to the hospital. They say she'll be fine. As soon as I find Dad, I was just going to head over there." "McKenna is here? And your father? What's going on? Why is everyone here?" "It's a long story," Paul answered. "Plus, there's someone else here who we fear is trapped inside the nursing home." "Who, for heaven's sake?" Lily demanded. "Cheryl Hancock, Dad's friend from the grief workshop. You met her at Gram's." "Yes, I remember," Lili\y said. "How did she get trapped inside?" "Another long story but the gist of it from McKenna is that Cheryl saved Gram's life, got her out of the room through the window. But then she was convinced that Dad was still inside so she went back in and hasn't been seen since." Lily took a deep breath and held on to Paul's arm. "What do you mean, saved your grandmother's life? Was she in any danger?" "Again, according to McKenna, Gram would have died if Cheryl hadn't gotten her out through the window." "Oh my God, this is unbelievable. Can you take me to find McKenna?" Paul reached out to take Lily's arm but she stopped him for a moment. She dug through her purse for her billfold and took out a sheaf of bills. She turned to Jermaine who standing behind her and shoved the bills into his jacket pocket. "Thank you so much, Jermaine. I just can't thank you enough for rushing me over here." "Ma'am, I can't take this." He tried to give the money back to Lily but she refused to take it. "Please," she said, "It would mean so much to me for me to do something for that precious little Devonne of yours. Now you go on home to your family." Jermaine turned to go then looked back at the fire and at Lily and said, "I'll keep you all in my prayers." "Thank you, dear boy," Lily answered, then walked off with Paul toward the side of the nursing home. They found McKenna where Paul had left her. But now Robert was with her and they were talking to one of the firemen. Paul and Lily stood quietly to one side, listening carefully as McKenna explained what had happened with Celia and Cheryl. Lily thought from the impatient tone in McKenna's voice that she'd probably told the story more than once already. Paul and Robert both began speaking at once, and Paul deferred to his father. "Sir," Robert began, speaking to the fireman standing with them, a man more than 30 years Robert's junior. "We think a dear friend of ours is trapped inside. Is there anything being done about people trapped inside?" Lily marveled at Robert's calm voice and knew he must be at his wit's end in trying to find out what was going on with Cheryl. She'd had the impression from seeing them together that they were a couple but knew that might have been her imagination. The fireman had radioed to someone, telling them the situation, that there might be someone still inside. He turned to Robert and said, "We have some men still inside looking for your friend. We'd thought we got all the residents out but were unsure of how many visitors might have been in the home. I'll go see what they find and I'll come back to give you an update." As the fireman walked away, McKenna turned to Robert Long and said, "Thanks for taking charge there. I got the feeling that he wasn’t paying much attention to me." "Sometimes it takes an old geezer to get some attention." "Nonsense, Mr. Long," McKenna retorted. "You've anything but a geezer." "Good girl," Paul interjected. "Dad is a good one to have on your side." "Agreed," Lily concurred. "Now if you don't mind, Paul, can you take me to the hospital to check on your grandmother?" "Sure," Paul said. He turned to McKenna and asked, "Do you want to come with us to stay here?" He knew what her answer would be but felt he'd had to ask. "I'll stay here," McKenna had answered as Paul expected. "I'm so worried about Cheryl, especially – ." She broke off and turned away so Paul couldn't see her face. "Especially what?" Lily had asked, her first words to McKenna since she'd arrived. Paul drew in a deep breath, afraid that McKenna would lash out at her grandmother. But to his surprise, McKenna walked over next to Lily and took her hand in hers, asking, "First, tell me how your tests turned out?" Paul tried not to stare, amazed that McKenna was speaking civilly to a woman who as of yesterday's discovery, she supposedly hated. What could have happened to make McKenna not hate Lily? Lily looked up at her granddaughter and said, "Everything's fine. The doctor thinks the high blood pressure was just an anomaly. She wants me to get one of those home blood pressure things so that's what I'm going to do. Now, can you please explain what's causing you to be so concerned about Cheryl?" "Well, I don't believe in the supernatural or anything like that, but Cheryl told me she had a vision of herself dying, in a fire of all things. I don't know what to think. I guess I'm afraid that it might be a self-fulfilling prophecy." "Oh God, that must be what she was so upset about," Robert broke in. "For the past day or two, she hasn't been herself. It was as if her mind was somewhere else." "She told me she was going to be with Leslie again," McKenna said slowly. "I thought it had to be her imagination." The four of them stared at one another, no one knowing what to say. Finally, Paul broke the silence and said, "I think Lily and I are going to the hospital to see about Gram." He turned to his father and said, "I'll call you after I talk to Gram. And please call me if you hear something about Cheryl." They said their good-byes and Paul took Lily's arm to lead her over to where the Ranger was parked. Once they were seated in the truck, Lily turned to Paul and asked, "What's going on with McKenna?" Paul hesitated and then took a deep breath before answering. "Well, I'm not sure what you mean?" "Oh, Paul, don't play the fool with me!" Exasperation rolled off Lily "You know exactly what I'm talking about. The whole time we were all standing there together I could tell that you were afraid about what McKenna might do or say. And then when she did that sweet concerned thing with me, I saw the shock in your face. So, 'fess up, what's going on?" Again, Paul hesitated before answering. Finally, he sighed and said, "I don't know whether it's the right thing to do, to tell you about this, but I'm all for honesty and openness." He started the Ranger and turned on the heater but didn’t go anywhere. He turned sideways in the seat so he could look at Lily. "You're not going to like hearing this so prepare yourself. Yesterday, when I went to pick up your things to take them to you in the hospital, I found McKenna in your office. Kitty had knocked down a stack of boxes in the closet, and McKenna had tried to straighten them up." He heard Lily's gasp of dismay and knew she understood exactly which boxes had fallen over and what was in the boxes. "Yes, that's right. Kitty knocked over your Jamie Angel boxes and when McKenna tried to put the papers away and she couldn't help seeing all the Jamie Angel references. And then she couldn't help reading the papers. And it didn't take long for her to figure out that Jamie Angel is your creation, that you're Jessica Caviletti. Suffice it to say, McKenna was beyond furious. She was sobbing and yelling and carrying on something fierce. She said she felt that you betrayed the memory of her dead brother and that infuriated her. She was ready to give you your head on a platter. So to hear express solicitude about you today was mind-blowing. I have no idea what happened to turn her around like that." Lily sat there silently absorbing Paul's words. She covered her face with her hands and Paul wondered if she was crying. He couldn't remember every seeing Lily cry, not in the 20 years he'd known her. Finally, she put her hands back in her lap, and Paul could see no trace of tears on her face. "So?" Paul said, wanting her to indicate what she was thinking and feeling. "So nothing, dear boy. I should have told McKenna right away about Jamie Angel but things were so tense between us that I thought I'd wait a bit. I knew this would be how she'd react when I told her and I wanted to give her a chance to get to know me, to feel comfortable again with me. But it's too late for that now, I guess. Although she certainly didn't seem angry or upset with me just now. Something must have happened to her to change her mind." They sat there a moment, then both burst out at the same time: "Cheryl!" Paul said, "That has to be it. Somehow when Cheryl was talking to McKenna about dying, that changed McKenna." "Well, whatever it was," Lily said, "I'm grateful for it. Just a few minutes ago, McKenna was the granddaughter I'd always wanted. I hope it stays that way." "Me, too," Paul agreed, finally putting the Ranger into drive and pulling onto the street. Half an hour later, Paul and Lily were in Celia's hospital room, one on each side of the bed, each holding one of her hands. "So the doctor says your fine, Gram? That you can go home sometime tomorrow?" Paul asked. "That's what he said. I told him that I didn't think I needed to spend the night but he was adamant. He seems to think I'm an old woman who needs to be coddled." The three of them laughed together at that. Coddling was something no one could ever do to Celia. As they were talking about Paul picking Celia up the next day, the hospital door slowly opened and Robert came in. He looked awful, rumpled and pale. "Dad? Are you okay?" Paul asked, walking toward his father. "You don't look so good." Robert came up to the bed and leaned down to kiss Celia on the forehead. "Are you okay, Mom? Sorry it took so long for me to get here. There were -- there were complications." "Complications? What do you mean, Dad?" Paul asked. "Well, it's Cheryl. You know how, after she got your grandmother out of the nursing home, she went back in? Well, she saved another person's life, one of the nurse's aides. But she didn't make it out herself. By the time the firemen reached her, she'd been overcome by smoke, and she was gone." "Oh, Robert, I'm so sorry. I know how close you two were. And I can't begin to express how I feel about Cheryl saving my life. That was a miracle for which I will be forever thankful." Paul pulled a chair up next to his grandmother's bed and insisted that his father sit down. Lily came to stand by Robert, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry about Cheryl." Suddenly she exclaimed, "Oh my God! McKenna must be devastated. Cheryl was the mother of McKenna's best friend. Where is McKenna?" Robert looked up at Lily and said, "She's just outside in the waiting room. She's not doing so well but she didn't want to intrude." Lily headed toward the door, saying over her shoulder, "I'll go take care of her." Paul called after her, "Do you want me to come with you?" But Lily was out the door and evidently didn't hear him. The waiting room was just a few steps down the hall, and Lily found McKenna sitting on a love seat in a corner, her face buried in her hands. Lily walked over and sat down beside her, putting her arm around McKenna and pulling her close. "I'm so sorry about Cheryl. I know how much she meant to you." "Oh, Gran, she's gone and it's so awful." Lily felt her heart jump at McKenna's use of her old childhood name for her grandmother. "I know, sweetie. And she did such a wonderful thing, saving Celia's life. I'll be forever grateful to her for that." McKenna leaned against her grandmother, trying to stop crying. Lily reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of Kleenex and handed them to McKenna. McKenna smiled at her grandmother, then blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "You've always had Kleenex in your pocket. I remember that from when I was little." They sat there quietly for a few minutes, then McKenna began to talk. She told Lily about Cheryl's psychic powers and the vision she'd had about her impending death. "And her premonition came true. The only thing that makes it even remotely bearable is that Cheryl was convinced she'd be seeing Leslie. And that made her so happy." 119