Yanecia - Nora Roberts- Garden Trilogy - Red lily
“It was brave, and it was right.”
It was so simple, his response, and nothing like what she’d prepared for. “It was crazy.”
“Brave,” he repeated. He stopped, by deliberate design, next to a patch of small yellow lilies. “And right.”
“Turned out right. I was going to name her Eliza. That was the name I had picked out for a girl. Then you brought those red lilies into the room, and they were so beautiful, so bright. When she was born, I thought, she’s so beautiful, so bright. She’s Lily. So . . .” She let out a long breath. “That’s the big circle, from the beginning around to the end.”
He leaned down, touched his lips to hers. “The thing about circles? You can keep widening them.”
“Is that a way of saying you weren’t so bored by my personal soap opera you might want to do this again?”
“One thing you’ve never done is bore me.” He linked his hand with hers so they could continue walking. “And yeah, I’d like to do this again.”
“Away from the house. Away from her.”
“We can do that. The thing is, Hayley, we live there. We work there. We can’t avoid her.”
TOO TRUE, HAYLEY thought when she walked into her bedroom. All the drawers on her dresser hung open. Her clothes from there, from the closet, were all heaped on the bed. She crossed over, lifted a shirt, a pair of jeans. No damage, she noted, so that was something.
There’d been nothing amiss in Lily’s room when she’d checked, and that was even more important. Curious, she walked to the bathroom. All of her toiletries had been shoved into a pile on the counter.
“Your way of reminding me this isn’t really my place?” she wondered aloud. “That I may be told to pack up and go any time? Maybe you’re right. If and when, I’ll handle it, so all you managed to do was give me an hour’s annoying work before I go to bed.”
She began to put away the creams and colognes, the lipsticks and mascaras. Discount brands mostly, with a couple of splurges tossed in. And maybe she did wish she could afford better, just for the fun of it.
The same went for the clothes, she admitted as she went into the bedroom to deal with them. What was wrong with wishing she could afford really good fabrics or designer labels?
It wasn’t like she was obsessed with it.
Still, wouldn’t it be wonderful to be hanging up fabulous dresses instead of knockoffs and discount rack. Silks and cashmere. It would feel so good against her skin.
Roz had all those incredible clothes, and walked around in old shirts half the time. More than. What was the point in having so much, then taking it for granted? Leaving it hanging when someone else could use it. Use it better, too. Someone younger who knew how to live. Who deserved it, who’d earned it instead of just having everything handed to her.
And all those jewels, just going to waste, sitting in a safe when they’d look so beautiful around her throat. Sparkling.
She should just take them, take a few pieces here and there. Who’d know the difference?
Everything she wanted was right here for the taking, so why not . . .
She dropped the shirt she’d been holding. Holding, she realized in front of her the way a woman holds some lovely gown. Swaying in front of the mirror. And thinking of theft.
Not me. Shaking, she stared at her own reflection.
“Not me,” she said aloud. “I don’t need what you need. I don’t want what you want. Maybe you can get inside me, but you can’t make me do something like that. You can’t.”
She dumped the rest of her clothes in a chair, then lay down on the bed fully dressed. And slept with the lights on.nine
SHE WAS GLAD to be working the counter, grateful to the steady trickle of customers who kept her busy. Amelia didn’t appear to be interested in her when she was working. At least not so far.
She’d made a list, documenting every incident she remembered clearly for Mitch’s files. She’d noted down the locations: the pond, her bedroom, the nursery. She wasn’t absolutely sure, but she thought there had been other times her thoughts weren’t really hers. In the garden at Harper House, when she’d been daydreaming at work.
Once it was down on paper, she decided, it didn’t seem that enormous.
At least not during the day, when people were around.
She looked over as a new customer came in. Young, good shoes, good haircut. Healthy disposable income, Hayley decided, and hoped to help her dispose of some.
“ ’Morning. Can I help you find something today?”
“Well, I . . . I’m sorry, I think I’ve forgotten your name.”
“It’s Hayley.” She narrowed her focus while keeping her expression pleasant. Swingy, streaky blond hair, narrow face, pretty eyes. A little bit shy.
Then her own eyes popped wide. “Jane? Roz’s cousin Jane? Holy cow, look at you.”
The woman flushed. “I . . . got my hair cut,” she told her, and fluffed a hand over the flattering swing.
“I’ll say. You look great, totally great.”
The last time she’d seen Jane, she’d helped Roz and Stella move the woman’s few possessions out of the over-stuffed, overheated city apartment ruled by Clarissa Harper. The woman they’d smuggled out—along with journals Clarissa had nipped out of Harper House—had been dull and dowdy, like a pencil sketch that barely showed up on the paper.
Now her plain, dishwater blond hair had been lightened, highlighted, and shortened to a sassy length that didn’t drag down her long, thin face.
Her clothes were simple, but the cotton shirt and breezy cropped pants were a far cry from the dumpy skirt she’d been wearing when she’d made her escape.
“I’ve gotta say: Wow. You look like you’ve been on one of those makeover shows. You know, like What Not to Wear. And oh boy, what just came out of my mouth was really rude.”
“No, it’s okay.” Her smile spread even as her blush deepened. “I guess I feel made over. Jolene—you know Jolene, Stella’s stepmother?”
“Yeah, she’s terrific.”
“She helped me get the job at the gallery, and the day before I started, she came to my new apartment. She just . . . highjacked me. She said she was my fairy godmother for the day. Before I knew it, I was getting my hair cut, and they were putting aluminum foil in what was left of it. I was too terrified to say no.”
“Bet you’re glad you didn’t.”
“I was in a daze. She dragged me out of there to the mall, and said she was going to start me off with three outfits, top to toe. After that, she expected me to fill out the rest of my wardrobe in a like manner.”
Her smile wreathed from ear to ear even as her eyes went damp. “It was the most wonderful day of my life.”
“That’s the sweetest story.” Hayley teared up as Jane did. “You deserved a fairy godmother after being kicked around by that wicked witch. You know, historically fairy tales were women’s stories, passed orally in a time when women didn’t have many rights.”
“Um. Oh?”
“Sorry, trivia head. It’s just that this is all such a girl thing, I guess. I’ve got to get Stella.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt anything. I just hoped to see Cousin Rosalind, and thank her.”
“We’ll get her, too.” Hayley hurried over to Stella’s office door. “But Stella’s really going to want to see this.” She poked her head in without knocking. “You’ve got to come out here a minute.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, just take my word and come out here.”
“Hayley, I’ve still got half a dozen calls to make before I . . .” She trailed off, automatically putting on her greeting-the-public face when she spotted Jane. “Sorry. Is there something—Oh my God. It’s Jane.”
“New and improved,” Hayley said, then winced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s just how I feel.”
“Jolene said she’d given you the Jo Special.” Delighted, Stella walked a circle around Jane. “Boy, didn’t she just. I love your hair.”
“So do I. Your stepmother, she’s been so good to me.”
“She’s enjoyed every minute of it. I’ve had reports, but I have to say, a picture’s worth a thousand. I hope you’re doing as well as you look.”
“I love my job. I love my apartment. I really love feeling pretty.”
“Oh.” Stella’s eyes filled.
“Same thing happened to me,” Hayley said as she got a two-way from behind the counter. “Roz,” she said into it, “we need you at checkout.”
She clicked it off on Roz’s staticky complaint about being busy.
“I don’t want to drag her away from her work.”
“She’ll want to see you. And I want to see her see you. God, this is fun!”
“Tell us what else you’ve been up to,” Stella said.
“Work’s number one. I really love it, and I’m learning so much. I’ve made a couple of friends there.”
“Male types?” Hayley wondered.
“I’m not ready for that yet. But there is this man in my building. He’s very nice.”
“Is he cute? Shoot, customer,” Hayley grumbled as one came in through the back with a loaded cart. “Don’t talk about anything sexy while I’m busy.”
“I thought I’d be embarrassed to see the two of you again.” Jane turned to Stella as Hayley waited on the customer.
“Why?”
“That time, when I met you, I was so whiny and horrible.”
“You were not, you were scared and upset. For good reason. You were taking a big step, letting us in so Roz could get those journals.”
“They belonged to her. Clarissa didn’t have the right to take them from Harper House.”
“No, she didn’t. But it was still a big step for you, to let Roz get them back, to move out, start a new job, a new life. I know how scary that is. So does Hayley.”
Jane glanced over her shoulder to where Hayley rang up sales and chatted with her customer. “She doesn’t look like she’d be scared of anything. That’s what I thought when I met her, and you. That the two of you would never be afraid to stand up for yourselves, never let yourselves get pushed around like I did.”
“We all get scared, and we don’t always do something so radical and positive about it.”
Roz came in, the only sign of irritation the slap of her gardening gloves on her thigh. “Is there a problem?”
“Absolutely not.” Stella gestured. “Jane wanted to see you.”
Roz’s brows lifted, and her smile spread slowly. “Well, well, well. Jolene is a woman of her word. Aren’t you just blooming.” She stuck her gloves in her back pocket, then lost her breath as Jane threw arms around her. “I’m glad to see you, too.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll never be able to tell you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m so happy.”
“I can see that. Feel it, too.”
“Sorry.” Sniffling, Jane released her. “I didn’t intend to do that. I wanted to come, to thank you, and to tell you I’m doing a good job at work. I got a raise already, and I’m making something of myself.”
“I can see that, too. I don’t have to ask if you’ve been well. I’m happy for you. And, however small it might be of me, I’m downright delighted to see you looking so pretty, so excited about your life because that must just burn Cousin Rissa’s bony ass.”
Jane gave a watery laugh. “It does. It has. She came to see me.”
“What’d I miss, what’d I miss?” Hayley demanded as she hurried over. “Go back and repeat all the good stuff.”
“I think we’re just getting to it.” Roz angled her head. “So Rissa got her broom out of storage and came to see you?”
“In my apartment. I guess my mother gave her my address, even though I asked her not to. It was about a month ago. I looked through the peephole and saw her. I almost didn’t answer the door.”
“Who could blame you?” In support, Hayley patted Jane’s back.
“But I thought, I can’t just sit here like a rabbit hiding in my own apartment. So I opened the door, and don’t you know she walked right in, sniffed the air, ordered me to fetch her some sweet tea, then sat down.”
“Bless her heart,” Roz drawled. “Her ego never withers.”
“What floor’s that apartment on again?” Hayley squinted as she tried to remember. “Third or fourth, as I recall. She’d’ve made a nice splat if you’d tossed her out the window.”
“I wish I could say I did, but I went and got the tea. I was just quaking. When I came back with it, she said I was an ungrateful, wicked girl, and I could cut off my hair, get myself into some rathole of an apartment, fool some brainless ninny into giving me a job I was certainly unqualified to handle, but it didn’t change what I was. She said a number of uncomplimentary things about you, Roz.”
“Oh, tell.”
“Well, um. Scheming harlot for one.”
“I always wanted to be called a harlot. People just don’t use the word enough these days.”
“That’s what started getting my back up. I thought maybe she was entitled to call me ungrateful, because I was.” Jane fisted her hands on her hips, jutted her chin in the air. “My apartment’s not a rathole, it’s just sweet, but with her tastes it might seem like it, and she didn’t know Carrie—my boss?—so she might think she’s brainless to give me a chance. But she had some nerve calling you names when she’s the one who stole from you.”
Jane squared her shoulders, gave a decisive nod. “And I said so.”
“To her face.” Hooting out a laugh, Roz framed Jane’s face in her hands. “I couldn’t be more proud.”
“Her eyes almost bugged out of her head. I don’t know where the words came from. I don’t have much of a temper, but I was so mad. I just cut loose on her, said all the things I hadn’t hardly let myself think when I was living with her, and waiting on her hand and foot. How she was mean and spiteful and no one had an ounce of affection for her. How she was a thief and a liar, and she was lucky you hadn’t called the police on her.”
“Get you.” Hayley gave her an elbow nudge. “That’s better than tossing her out the window.”
“And I wasn’t even done.”
“Keep right on going,” Hayley prompted.
“I said I’d beg on the street before I’d come back and be her whipping girl. Then I told her to get out of my apartment.” Jane threw out an arm and pointed. “I gestured, just like this? Sort of over the top, I guess, but I was wound up. She said I’d regret it. I think she might’ve said I’d rue the day, but I was so stirred up I didn’t pay much mind. And she left.”
She blew out a breath, waved a hand in front of her face. “Whew.”
“Why, Jane, you’re a Trojan.” Roz took her hand, gave it a squeeze. “Who’d have thought?”
“It didn’t end there, exactly. She tried to have me fired.”
“That bitch.” Hayley’s face darkened. “What did she do?”
“She went to Carrie, told her I was a woman of loose morals, how I’d had an affair with a married man, and that I’d stolen from her when she’d graciously taken me into her home. Said she felt it was her Christian duty to warn Carrie about me.”