Homecoming (29 page)

He reached back and gripped her hand. “I’m sorry we lost touch for so many years, Jill. We really dropped the ball.”

“It’s all right, Mike. We built a good foundation all those years ago. We can add to it now.”

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, sounding a little misty. “And I’m especially glad you’re keeping an eye on Beth…Lizzie, I mean. I worry about her up there in Burlington, so far away from her family.”

“We… I’m… It’s good for both of us to be close,” Jill said, desperately trying to figure out a way to state that without it sounding weird. But when your girlfriend was being lectured by her mother just a few feet behind you, it was hard to put coherent sentences together. What in the hell was Janet saying? Jill had no option but to wait and see. And it was driving her crazy!

***

Jill had to use every bit of her leverage and leg strength to push Mike up to Copp’s Hill Burial Ground. He was able to climb some stairs and walk around the site, after Janet called out that she and Lizzie would watch the chair.

Jill caught a glimpse of Lizzie, eyes downcast, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked like a kid being chided for playing ball in the house, something that the young Lizzie could have easily gotten away with. Every one of her older siblings complained that the rules never applied to the baby of the family, but it looked like she was finally getting the lecture she’d deferred for so long. Jill was filled with empathy for her, but it was awful to not know exactly what was going on.

Mike was blissfully ignorant, huffing and puffing his way up the stairs to stand at the top and look out at the old tombstones. “I can just see it,” he said, his face flushed from exertion. “Back when the colonists thought this would be a perfect place for a windmill.” He looked out at the view, able to take in much of Boston and the harbor. “It’s hard to imagine what this country looked like before our ancestors got here.”

“Fewer skyscrapers,” Jill joked.

“It’s a damn shame we couldn’t figure out a way to share the land,” he said, thoughtfully. “But I guess that’s not what people do.”

“No, I don’t think that’s the human instinct. Can you imagine a world where sharing was the default?”

“No, but I’d like to.” He turned to look at the grave site, with weather-beaten tombstones listing to one side, some nearly tumbled over. “Maybe we’ll all be at peace one day.” He put his hand on her shoulder as they meandered around the irregular rows. “That’s a nice dream too.” He squeezed Jill’s shoulder. “Don’t tell Janet I said that. She’s convinced heaven’s real.”

“Maybe it is,” Jill said. “I can think of worse things to believe in.”

“Good point. Damned good point, Jilly. It doesn’t cost a thing to believe, so why not?”

Jill put her arm around Mike’s waist, partly to stabilize him, but mostly because she felt so damned close to him. He was the dad she’d always wanted, and if Janet was convincing Lizzie to sever their tie—she wasn’t sure how she’d ever get over the loss.

***

They spent a long time at the grave site, with Mike pointing out every notable preacher, soldier, and colonist he knew. As they walked back down the stairs, Lizzie was looking up at her, but Jill couldn’t read her expression. It wasn’t happy. That was certain, but Jill couldn’t tell much more. Lizzie had hold of the wheelchair, and she pushed it back and forth a few inches. “I get the downhill portion,” she said, her voice relatively close to normal. That was a good sign, right? Then a hand clamped onto Jill’s upper arm, stopping her.

“Walk with me for a while,” Janet said. She used a tone that left no room for dissent.

“Sure. Great.”

They stood in place, waiting for Lizzie to push her father’s chair out of earshot. Then Janet took a step, her hand still locked around Jill’s arm. She must have been doing hand-strengthening exercises!

“Do you know what Beth said on the day you graduated from college?”

Jill blinked in surprise. “No. How would I know…?”

“She told me when she grew up she was going to marry you.”

Jill stopped on a dime, her arm now at an awkward angle when Janet didn’t release her hold. “She what?”

“She had a schoolgirl crush on you, Jill. I thought it was just that. A little girl’s desire to
be
the older girl.”

“But you don’t think that now?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she said, staring at the ground. “But I know one thing.” Her gaze shifted to lock onto Jill’s. “If you’re playing with her… Or taking advantage of the way she feels about you…”

“I would never, ever do that. Never,” she said, hotly. “And Lizzie’s not that little girl anymore. She’s a mature adult who knows her own mind.”

“And her own mind is leading her to get involved with you. After being perfectly happy with men since she was sixteen.”

“What are you implying, Janet? Do you think I swooped into your house, determined to snatch your daughter away?”

Janet’s cheeks began to flush, putting color into what had been an abnormally pale complexion. “No, of course I don’t think that. But I don’t think you understand what you meant to her when she was young. She
idolized
you, Jill. And you and the older kids just ignored her.”

“She was a little kid—”

“I know that. You were adolescents. You shouldn’t have been interested in her back then. But I think she might be confused. Or trying to make those childhood fantasies come true.”

Given that Jill had no idea what Lizzie had told her mother, she was stuck. She wasn’t about to reveal that Lizzie had been interested in girls all of her life, but she couldn’t let that strange comment just lie there.

They were heading east again, back past the Old North Church. Jill assumed they’d go south, back to the center of the historical buildings. She normally really enjoyed walks like this, and wished she was with Mike, getting his perspective, but she was stuck. Literally.

“I’ve only been getting to know Lizzie since May, and I’ll admit that’s not very long. But I’ve never, not for a second, felt that she was living in the past with me. Or trying to fulfill some old fantasy. She’s not that kind of woman, Janet. Come on. You know that.”

“I don’t know what I know,” she said, her mouth set in a hard line. “My girl’s telling me something about herself that’s important. Very important. And I didn’t have the slightest inkling about it.” She stared at Jill, eyes flashing. “How am I supposed to feel? Have we been close all of these years? What else don’t I know?”

“I’m sorry this is catching you so off guard. I wish Lizzie would have talked to you sooner. I really do.”

Janet’s gaze sharpened. “Did you seek her out before Mark’s party? Did you ever try to get in touch with her?”

“God damn it,” Jill said, her voice rising. “What are you implying?”

“You’re carrying on with my youngest child. Behind my back!”

Jill took a breath, unwilling to let her temper make her say something she’d regret. Quietly, she said, “I’m sure it’s hard to be confronted with your child’s sexuality. And I truly regret you were. But we’re not doing something to you, Janet. We’re figuring things out for ourselves.”

“How long were you going to wait to tell us? You looked like you had everything figured out last night.”

“That’s not true. We’re working things out. But even though this is a work in progress, Lizzie was going to come down and talk to you next weekend.”

“And say what?”

“She was going to tell you that she was…attracted to women.”

Janet stared at her for a long time. Quietly, she enunciated each word. “She wasn’t going to tell us about you?”

“No. We…I thought it would be easier for you to get used to if she just told you she was attracted to women. Later on, she was going to tell you about us.”

“I know you Jill, and I know my daughter. Neither of you would be hiding something you were proud of!”

Jill’s body ached from stress, making her feel like they’d run the Freedom Trail a few times. She desperately wanted to reassure Janet, but that wasn’t her place. It was Lizzie’s.

“I can’t speak for Lizzie, but I’m proud of the way I’ve handled this. I’m trying hard to take it slow and make sure she knows this is what she wants.” She dropped her head, closed her eyes and said what was in her heart. “I’m trying to protect her, Janet. I’d do anything not to hurt her.”

“This is going to be a tough pill for the other kids to swallow, Jill. It won’t be easy for them to accept.”

“I…I don’t know what to say about that. I’m very attracted to your daughter, and she feels the same about me. If her brothers and sisters have issues with homosexuality—they’ll have to get over them.”

“It’s not that easy. It’s just not.” She blew out a frustrated breath, then said, “Mike’s going to know something’s up. Let’s catch up.”

“You’re not going to tell him?”

“No,” she said immediately. “That’s for Beth to do.”

“She prefers Lizzie,” Jill said, wishing she could pull that back in before it reached Janet’s ears.

“Good for her.” Still gripping Jill’s arm, she picked up the pace and they were soon right behind Lizzie and Mike. Lizzie turned and gave Jill a wistful look. One that Jill took to mean “Who’s the idiot who suggested going on a trip with my parents?”

***

Lizzie’s careful foresight became even more evident when an usher escorted them to seats down the first base line, three traditional and one a big space with the seat number painted on the ground. Lizzie pushed the levers to secure the wheelchair, and sat next to her father. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

Jill was furthest down the row, stuck next to the nearly silent Janet. She didn’t mind though. Lizzie was proud of herself for figuring out a way to get her father to a game, and the fact that she got great seats while letting him get around easily just made Jill’s respect for her grow. This was not a woman who was vying for her affections simply because of a long-ago schoolgirl crush. Lizzie was young, for sure, but she was mature. More mature than many people Jill’s age. With any luck, Janet would eventually see that.

***

On the way back to Sugar Hill, Mike sat in the back and provided an almost play-by-play of the Sox’s dismal game. It was not their year. At this rate, they’d finish last in their division, but that didn’t hamper Mike’s interest. He was a true fan, loyal whether his team was first or last.

They were driving up Route 12, just a few dozen miles from home, when Lizzie asked, “Who wants to skip dinner and have a maple creemee?”

“Me,” Janet said immediately.

“I could go for a creemee,” Mike said, making the Davis vote unanimous.

Jill turned to look at Lizzie’s happy smile. “I assume you know where there’s a stand?”

“Next exit,” she said, pointing. “A good place. They don’t bother with regular food. Just the sweet stuff.”

Jill turned off and let Lizzie direct her down the small town’s main street to where a line of people were lingering outside an ice cream shop. “You’re not the first to notice this place,” Jill said.

“Thankfully. In a town this small, they need to lure a bunch of travelers to stay open. I’ll wait in line,” she said, jumping out.

Jill flipped her door open, but Janet exited first. “I’ll help.”

As Jill watched mother and daughter stand in the slow moving line, she realized that Janet didn’t want her and Lizzie to have time alone. She was acting just like a cop investigating a crime. Never let the co-conspirators have a private conversation until you’ve squeezed a confession out of them.

***

Even though he’d spent most of the day in a wheelchair, Mike was drained by the time they got home. Janet got his oxygen tank arranged next to his easy chair in the den, switched the TV on and said, “We’re going to go for a walk to work some of that ice cream off.”

“I guess I can be happy here,” he said, looking around like he’d just seen the spot for the first time. “If Lizzie would get me a beer, all will be right with the world.”

“Coming right up, Dad,” she said, delivering one a minute later.

“Are you girls staying overnight?” he asked.

“Not sure. We’ll see how we feel after our walk.”

If our legs haven’t been broken,
Jill thought, for once in her life dreading an August evening stroll.

They went out the back door, cutting across the yard to go down the gravel road that led to the river. As soon as they were on level ground, Janet threaded her arms through both Lizzie and Jill’s. That was nice. Unless she was just holding on so she could kick them.

“So…” she began. “Where do we go from here?”

“I think you owe Jill an apology,” Lizzie said, hurt coloring her voice. “The thought that she might be trying to…” She growled, sounding supremely frustrated. “I don’t even know what you were implying. But I
know
it was an insult.”

“It’s okay,” Jill said. “I know you’re upset, Janet. I don’t blame you for grasping at straws to try to figure this out.”

“It’s not that hard,” Lizzie jumped in, her voice filled with frustration and anger. “I like women. You in particular. For the record, I didn’t know I liked you until we met up again.” Her cheeks got pinker by the second, until they were cherry red. “I have not been longing for you since I was in diapers!”

“I apologize,” Janet said, squeezing Jill’s arm. “You’re right. I was grasping for an explanation, and I let my mind veer off into some crazy spot.” She turned to Lizzie. “But I can’t ignore your history, honey. You seemed so happy with your boyfriends. Especially Adam and Ben. And you were awfully close to marrying Jon. Don’t act like that isn’t true.”

“It was, Mom, but…”

Jill gave her a pointed look, and Lizzie sighed and told the truth. “I
was
happy dating men. I didn’t tell you the whole truth this morning.”

“Now what?” Janet demanded.

“I’m not exactly a lesbian. I’m bisexual.”

Janet’s attention switched to Jill. “Is that true for you, too?”