She was going to war.

* * *

At one o’clock Jolene called the preschool and arranged for Lulu to stay later, and then she called Michael at work. He kept her waiting long enough that she began to think he wasn’t going to answer, and when he did finally take the call, he sounded preoccupied.

“Hi, Jo. What is it?”

“I need you to come home tonight,” she said.

He paused; she heard him breathing. “I have a lot of work to do. I think I’ll sleep at the office tonight. ”

“Don’t, please,” she said, hating how it sounded as if she were begging. “Something has come up. I need to talk to you. ”

“I think we need some time apart. ”

“Please, Michael. I need to talk to you tonight. ”

“Fine. I’ll be on the six o’clock boat. ”

For the next few hours, she tried not to think about the future, but it was impossible. As the time for carpool approached, she found her spirits lagging. The thought of seeing her children—looking at them, seeing their bright smiles, and knowing the pain that was coming their way—was terrible. She kept losing her balance, stumbling. Once, in the kitchen, she’d looked at the yellow-school-bus framed photo of Betsy’s school years, and she actually had to sit down.

Help me through this, she prayed more than once.

At the preschool, she parked out front and went inside slowly, hearing the high-pitched buzz of children’s laughter before she even reached the gate that led to the backyard.

“Mommy!” Lulu said, shrieked really, throwing her hands in the air and scrambling to her feet. She ran at Jolene, threw herself into Jolene’s arms.

“Do you have something in your eye, Mommy?” Lulu asked. “Cuz I gotted sand in my face at lunch and it made me cry. ”

“I’m fine, Lucy Louida,” Jolene said, grateful that Lulu didn’t hear the thickening of her voice. She carried Lulu out to the car, strapped her into the seat in the back, and drove across town to the middle school. As usual, Betsy was one of the last ones out of the school. She hung back from the other kids, as if she didn’t want to be seen. Then she ran to the SUV and climbed into the backseat, slamming the door shut.

Jolene stared at her daughter in the rearview mirror and felt a flutter of panic. She’s so fragile now …

“Are you going to just sit here all day?” Betsy said, crossing her arms.

How would Betsy get through seventh grade without her mom? What would happen when she started her period? Who would help her?

“Mom,” Betsy said sharply. “Are you brain-dead?”

Jolene drove into the stream of carpool traffic. She meant to start a conversation, say something, but her throat felt tight. When she pulled up to Mila’s house, her eyes stung with tears that didn’t fall.

Her in-laws’ house was a small L-shaped rambler built in the late seventies. It was small in comparison with the newer houses on either side of it, but the land was stunningly beautiful. Set on a deep, treed waterfront lot, it overlooked the placid waters of Lemolo Bay. Giant evergreens studded the landscaping; here and there, mounds of multicolored flowers grew around their rough brown trunks. Mila had turned this yard into a showpiece; every year it was on the local home and garden tour as a magnificent example of Northwest landscaping. The water out front was shallow and clear; in the summer, it warmed enough for swimming.

“Why are we here?” Betsy asked.

Jolene didn’t answer. Instead, she parked in front of the garage and let the girls out of the car. Before they even reached the front door, Mila came around the side of the house. She waved, smiling brightly, wearing a big flannel shirt over jeans tucked into bright orange rubber boots. A multicolored scarf covered her poofy black hair, à la Liz Taylor, and fist-sized silver hoops dangled from her ears. In her left hand was an enameled watering can. “Hey, girls,” she said.

“I’m sorry to call at the last minute like this,” Jolene said, bumping the car door shut with her hip.

Mila shook the dirt from her gardening gloves; it rained onto her boots. “Ah, honey, what’s family for?”

Lulu got out of the car and put on her kitten-ears headband, mewing loudly for attention.

“Not this again,” Betsy said, pushing past her sister.

Mila put down her watering can and glanced around. “Hmmm. Where is my granddaughter, Jolene? Did you leave her at home? In the car?”

Lulu giggled.

Tags: Kristin Hannah Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net