The Second Man (2 page)

Chapter 1

Santa Barbara, California

April

Jill Farrell picked up her ringing cell phone and checked the caller ID. Despite the tough day she was having, a smile pulled at her lips.

“Carly! Hi!”

“Jill? Can you hear me?” The woman’s voice sounded far away, but as comforting as a church bell.

“Yes, I can.” Jill forced some cheeriness into her voice. “What a great surprise to hear your voice. Where are you?”

“We’re in Rome at the airport. Hamilton had business in Milan, and I made him take me along. But I wanted to check in and see how things are going. How’s Dorothy doing? Any decision yet on the assisted living plans?”

Jill pursed her lips and glanced across the room where her mother sat on the couch, her eyes half-closed, her face showing no sign that she was aware of her surroundings.

“Mom’s no different.” Jill swallowed. “I’m moving her to Friend’s House today, as a matter of fact. In a couple of hours.”

“What? Oh my god, not on Good Friday? I thought you were going to wait until the summer.”

“That was the plan.” Jill leaned back and hugged her arm to her chest. “But Mom’s doctor was adamant we take the first slot that opened-up. She has been roaming around at night, not sleeping. The doctor felt it was time to consider a locked facility because one night, a couple of weeks ago she actually got out of the house and scared me to death. She could have been hit by a car or worse, so I didn’t have much of an argument to postpone it any longer.” Emotion tightened her throat. “I can’t believe things have worked out like this.”

“Oh, Jill, I’m so sorry. But we’ve talked about this so many times. You are doing the right thing. Assisted living will give Dorothy a level of care you can’t provide, and frankly, shouldn’t even try to provide on your own. You have to work, and have a life. You know your mom would agree this is the best option for her, don’t you?”

Carly was right, Jill knew. Her mother would never have wanted to be a burden. But still . . . “I know that. I do, but it hurts. She’s so young, you know, only sixty-three.”

Static crackled on the phone and then Carly’s voice cut back in. “. . . What time is it in California?”

“Ten-thirty a.m.”

“At least I didn’t wake you up. Now look, there’s another reason I’m calling today. A happier one. The reunion.”

“What reunion?”

“St. John’s college reunion! It’s in two weeks, remember?”

Jill stood and raked her hand through her hair, checking the clock on the fireplace mantle. She already had her mother’s things organized, but she felt like there were still a million things to do. “I remember talking about it with you months ago, and agreeing we were not going.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind. Hamilton and I have been discussing it, and we decided this morning he could work it into his schedule and travel with me. Which means you need to change your mind. Now. Especially because I just heard . . .”

Carly’s voice was obliterated by several seconds of static. “Carly, are you still there?”

“Can you hear me?”

“Hi. Yeah, you keep breaking up.” Jill sat next to her mom and pulled a throw blanket over her mother’s legs. Gently she patted her knee to wake her but Dorothy continued to doze.

“Isn’t that exciting?” Carly asked.

“Did you just say you’re coming to the reunion?” Jill replied. “You’re coming to California?”

“Yes. Next week!”

“That’s fabulous news. Are you bringing baby Julia? Your dad will be thrilled!”

“He is. Although I told him we’re staying at the Biltmore, not with him. I’m bringing the nanny, too. Anyway, I wanted to ring you first thing so you can call and change your regrets to an RSVP, because I am not going to that thing without you. Especially if Max Kallstrom is going to be there.”

Jill put her hand on her chest. “What did you say?”

“Didn’t you hear me a minute ago? Max Kallstrom is coming to our reunion! God, after all these years we can find out what the hell happened with him after the car accident. Do you think he can walk? I know all we heard was that his pelvis was broken, or something in the smash-up.”

An image loomed in front of Jill’s eyes like a ghost.

It was Max Kallstrom, the first day she met him.

She had driven from Santa Barbara to LAX in her dad’s old jeep, and had stood for an hour holding a sign with Max’s name on it outside the international arrival gate.

Glancing at the guys walking out of the terminal, Jill was expecting a blond, ski-god type, but Max was dark haired with green-flecked eyes. He had a wide-shouldered, lanky frame, and that brilliant smile.

“Are you Max Kallstrom?” Max asked when he stopped in front of her, his accented voice tentative. He had a huge backpack slung over his left shoulder.

She pointed to the sign in her now clammy hands. “No, I’m Jill Farrell. I’m here to pick up Max Kallstrom. Are you Max Kallstrom?”

They had collapsed into laughter and had been inseparable from that day on.

Until . . .

“Jill? Are you there? I just asked if you think he can walk.”

There was a long pause, then more static.

“Max is coming back to the States?” Jill asked. “Who told you that?”

“The person running the reunion, Marissa something, told Hamilton a couple of days ago when she called to be sure we weren’t attending. Ham couldn’t wait to tell me the news, because he remembered about you and Max being a big item, and how Max, poof, disappeared right before we graduated. Anyway, you see my point, right? You have to go to the reunion now.”

Jill shook her head, feeling slightly sick. “I honestly don’t know if I want to see him, Carly. I mean, he never ever tried to contact me. Maybe he doesn’t want to even now. I’m not sure I want to risk being rejected all over again.”

“Rejected? Oh, come on. The most he’ll be is embarrassed the he acted like such a jerk all those years ago. I bet he’s coming just to see you.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I know. And if you’re worried about running into Andrew Denton, don’t be. We can handle that little creep, if he is ballsy enough to show up.”

Jill’s eyes widened. She hadn’t considered the fact that her ex-husband might also be in town due to the reunion. “Ugh. Let’s not go there. Surely Andrew wouldn’t come, after all that happened?”

“I doubt he would, but if he does, we can handle it. So just get tickets. This is going to be a blast. Okay?”

“I’ll call and see if I can still go to the final dinner, at least. Although I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Carly. We can talk about it more when you get here.”

“Hang on a minute, Ham wants to talk to you,” Carly said.

“Jill?” Hamilton’s deep, lovely voice came over the airwaves. “Did I hear Carly say you’re thinking of missing the reunion? You have to come. You’re the biggest reason she wants to fly all the way around the world to California.”

“Hamilton, how are you?” Jill smiled. Even though she had only seen him a couple of brief times in the few years since he and Carly married, it was nice to know her best friends’ husband was coming, too. “Well, like I told Carly, I’ll call and see if I can get tickets to the dinner. But no matter what, I’m so glad to hear you guys will be in town. I can’t wait to see you all.”

“We’re not taking no for an answer about the reunion. Carly needs her best friend by her side.”

“I’ll try, Hamilton. I will. Have a safe trip back to London.”

“Jill?” Carly’s voice came back on the phone. “Look, I have to run. Love you and I can’t wait to see you!”

“Me too, dear friend. Safe flight.”

“Oh, and we’ll need to go shopping.” Carly suddenly sounded like she did when she organized prom boot camp in high school. “Don’t buy anything until I get there. And make us mani-pedi appointments. And hair appointments, okay? Cut and color for me. Nothing starts for a few days after I get in, so we’ll have time to get gorgeous.”

“Okay.” Jill doubted there was enough time in life for her to get gorgeous, but she smiled. “Will do. I’ll see you soon!”

Three hours later, Jill pulled into the sunny lot of the Friends Manor House, a long-term care facility on the edge of Santa Barbara, and parked clumsily near the entrance. At the front door stood a six-foot, purple blow-up Easter bunny.

Good Friday
.

Jill winced.
Of course it is.
A holiday that seemed to provide the worst of times to her family. The troubles began many years ago on another April 17, when her infant sister Rosie died in her sleep, a victim of SIDS. No one understood that syndrome then, or believed in it, except those victimized.

The very next year, she was stung by a bee and had nearly died of anaphylactic shock.

Then, three years later, her dad fell from the roof on this holiday, dropped headfirst into a thicket of bird of paradise. He walked into the house covered with scratches and debris, his face bruised and bleeding.

That night at dinner, Jill announced the day was cursed for them. Her mother made the sign of the cross and told her to say a rosary and stop being silly, but her father had nodded briefly, his face frozen as if he had seen a monster at the window.

Her dad told her later that they shared the ability to look at life for what it was, while her mother tended to see things as she wanted them to be.

Jill got out of the car and walked around to the passenger’s side. She opened the door and leaned in to undo her mother’s seatbelt. “Hey, Mama. Are you hungry? Or thirsty? You didn’t eat much today.”

Her mother stared at her as if she had never seen her before.

“We’ll get something soon as we get you settled, okay?”

“What day is this?” Her mother pulled the seatbelt back toward her chest nervously, as if it were a vine she had somehow entangled herself in.

“Friday. It’s Good Friday.”

“What’s good about it?”

From anyone else this would have been a wisecrack, but her mother did not wisecrack anymore. Jill patted her hand. “Lots of things. The sun is shining, and we love one another. A bounty of blessings.”

Dorothy blinked, but there was no sign she remembered that bit of family sentiment she had repeated to Jill a hundred times when she was growing up.

Jill parted her mother from the strap of the seatbelt, relieved Dorothy did not physically resist her effort. Her mother was heavier now than she had ever been, and when she did not want to move, it was difficult. Jill took Dorothy’s hand and gently tugged so she would know to step out of the car.

Her mother did not budge.

“Who’s that man?” Dorothy jerked her arm toward the front entrance of the facility.

Jill turned to look. “No one is there.”  

Despite this reassurance, Jill saw that her mom seemed frightened. Her mother had added this query about an invisible man to her list of repetitive questions this last week.

Jill feared the paranoia the doctor warned her would get worse was increasing. “Come on, Mom, it’s okay. Let’s go in.”

Dorothy didn’t move. “What day is it?”

“Friday. The Friday before Easter.”

“I need to go to church,” Dorothy whispered.

Faint hope gathered in Jill’s heart, even as logic scolded that Dorothy did not understand what she had just said. “Do you want to go to mass? I’ll take you this afternoon if you want to go.”

Dorothy looked down. After a moment, her eyes started to close.

Jill gripped her by the elbow and the older woman finally leaned forward and stepped out of the car. Her mom blinked in the sunshine as they walked slowly together toward the front door.

"This is going to be a great place to go out walking. It’s beautiful here.” Jill led her into the building and down the long central hallway. She wanted to show Dorothy around her one hundred and eighty-four square-foot private room before they did the final intake interview with the director.

She had brought most of her mother’s things over earlier, thinking the less unpacking, the less upset the move would cause. They stopped at the entrance to her room and Dorothy froze.

“What’s wrong?” she asked Jill.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Jill pushed open the door of the apartment. “This is your new home. The place I’ve been telling you about. Look, you’ve got two windows that face out on the bird feeder. I’ll bring you some suet and we can nail it up there.”

Dorothy turned the opposite way and stared into the clothes closet. “Birds?”

“Birds. Yeah, a lot of them.” Jill pointed out that her clothes were already hanging in the closet, and her toiletries in the cabinet in the door-less bathroom. She described all the family portraits on the wall, her eyes aching briefly at the one of her dad and baby Rosie.

But her mom was not listening. She was shuffling around in circles in the center of the room. She had not reacted to any of Jill’s slow, loud explanation of where everything was, or to her gently spoken reassurance as to why this move was a good thing.

Jill took her arm and guided her back to the doorway. “Now that you’ve seen the place, let’s go get you officially signed in. Then we’ll go to the dining room. You hungry?”

“What day is it?”

“Friday, Mom. It’s Friday.”

“It’s awful.”

“I know, honey, I know. Change is tough, but you’ll settle in. And I’ll come every day to see you.” She patted her mother’s arm, hoping what she was saying would comfort them both.

They walked in silence for several seconds.

“Don’t cry,” Dorothy whispered at the end of the hallway.

Tears burned hot against her eyes but Jill refused to let them fall and upset her mother even more. “I won’t, Mama.” She smiled at her mother in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

But Dorothy’s expression held only confusion.

With a stab of anguish, Jill realized her mother was talking to herself.