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Chapter Twenty-five
Maybe I shouldhave fired her right then and there.
But hindsight, as they say, is twenty-twenty, and it’s easy to see now all the mistakes I made then. But at the time, I was just so unhappy and confused about my own life, and I desperately wanted there to be a plausible explanation for the presence of my mother’s earrings in Elyse’s jewelry box.
But instead of telling my father or confronting Elyse directly, I simply secreted the earrings inside my purse, making the conscious—and cowardly—decision to remain silent. At least for the time being. Until I had time to figure things out, to decide my next move.
I spent the rest of the morning cavorting in the pool with my children. We even stayed for lunch.
Before we left, I went upstairs to see my mother, hoping she might be able to allay my suspicions and provide me with some much-needed answers, but she was still sleeping. “Does she usually sleep this much?” I asked as we were leaving.
“More and more lately,” Elyse said. “It’s hard, I know. But try to see it as a blessing. This way she’s not in pain.”
“Are you giving her more sedatives than usual?” I asked.
“Just what the doctor prescribed,” my father said. There wasno mistaking the testiness in his voice. He’d never taken well to being questioned.
“When was the last time he saw her?”
“We spoke just this week,” my father said, not quite answering the question.
“And?”
“Jodi,” he said, my name reverberating with rebuke. “Your mother has a terminal illness. At best, she has another six months. There’s not much that can be done at this point, other than to make her as comfortable as possible.”
I nodded, tears filling my eyes.
“Oh, you poor dear,” Elyse said, taking me in her arms and hugging me close.
I wondered if she would feel so warmly disposed toward me when she discovered that the earrings were missing, and when that would be. Would she spend hours frantically searching for them, or would she know instantly that I had found them and taken them?
What would she do then?
“Don’t cry, Mom,” Sam said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What’s terminal?” Daphne asked.
“It means Grandma isn’t going to get better,” I explained softly.
My son was less delicate. “It means she’s going to die,” he said.
“Areyougoing to die, Mommy?” Daphne asked from the backseat on the ride home.
“No, sweetheart,” I answered. “Not for a very long time.”
“I don’t want you to die.”
“I won’t. Please don’t worry.”
I’m worried enough for all of us,I thought.
—
Harrison didn’t get home that night until almost midnight.
I’d tried waiting up for him, but ultimately I’d fallen asleep infront of the TV in the family room at around ten. I woke up and turned it off when I heard his car pull into the garage.
Seconds later, the front door opened and he stepped inside. “How was it?” I asked as he walked toward the stairs.
