Fly Away (Firefly Lane 2)

His gaze softened. “There have been more than a few miracles in all of this. ”

Tully didn’t even know what to say. It would have been less surprising to hear that Johnny Depp had nursed her through the long dark months.

And yet, a memory teased her, came close, and then darted away. A slippery combination of words and light. The smell of lavender and Love’s Baby Soft … Billy, don’t be a hero …

Katie saying, Listen. It’s your mother.

Johnny pulled up in front of the house on Firefly Lane and stopped, turning toward Tully. After a long pause, he said, “I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am. ”

The tenderness she felt for this man was so sharp it was almost pain. How could she make him understand what she’d learned in that darkness—and in the light? “I saw her,” she said quietly.

He frowned. “Her?”

She saw when he understood.

“Katie. ”

“Oh. ”

“Call me crazy or brain-damaged or drugged. Whatever. I saw her and she held my hand and she told me to tell you, ‘You did fine and there’s nothing for the kids to forgive you for. ’”

He frowned.

“She thought you’d been kicking your ass about not being strong enough for her. You wish you’d let her tell you she was afraid. She said, ‘Tell him he was all I ever needed and he said everything I needed to hear. ’”

Tully reached over and held his hand, and there it was, between them again, all the years they’d spent together, all the times they’d laughed and cried and hoped and dreamed. “I’ll forgive you for breaking my heart if you forgive me, too. For all of it. ”

He nodded slowly, his eyes glazed with tears. “I missed you, Tul. ”

“Yeah, Johnny boy. I missed you, too. ”

* * *

Marah threw herself into the decorations for Tully’s homecoming, but even as she talked to her grandparents and teased with her brothers, she felt as if she were walking on eggshells. Her stomach was tight with anxiety. She wanted Tully’s forgiveness desperately, but she didn’t deserve it. The only other person who looked uncomfortable with the upcoming celebration was Dorothy. Tully’s mother had seemed to lose mass in the past few days, to grow smaller somehow. Marah knew that the older woman had begun to pack her few things into a bag. While everyone had busied themselves with decorating, Dorothy had said something about needing supplies at the nursery. She’d been gone for hours and hadn’t yet returned.

At Tully’s homecoming, everyone cheered and clapped and welcomed her back to the house. Grandma and Grandpa hugged her carefully and the boys shrieked at her return.

“I knew you’d be okay,” Lucas said to Tully. “I prayed every night. ”

“I prayed every night, too,” Wills said, not to be outdone.

Tully looked exhausted, sitting there, her head cocked in a strange way; the clunky silver helmet made her look almost childlike. “I know … two boys … who have a birthday coming up. I missed a year. Buy two presents now. ” Tully had to work really hard to say all that, and when she was done, her cheeks were bright and she was out of breath.

“Probably matching Porsches,” Dad said.

Grandma laughed and scooted the boys into the kitchen to get the cake.

Marah made it through the party on false smiles and mumbled comments. Fortunately for her, Tully tired easily and said her good nights at about eight o’clock.

“Roll me to bed?” Tully said, taking hold of Marah’s hand, squeezing.

“Sure. ” Marah grabbed the chair’s handles and wheeled her godmother down the long, narrow hallway toward the back bedroom. There, she maneuvered Tully through the open doorway and into the room, where there was a hospital bed, and flowers everywhere, and pictures cluttered on the tables. An IV stand stood beside the bed.

“This is where I’ve been,” Tully said. “For a year…”

“Yes. ”

“Gardenias,” Tully said. “I remember…”