dawn to get to work.
“Is he guilty?”
“How do I know?”
“You’re usually pretty tuned in to these things.”
“As I proved with my adept handling of the Eaton James defense,” she mumbled.
“No one’s right all the time.”
She sighed, fiddling with the bottom hem of the almost threadbare T-shirt she was wearing. “I don’t know if he’s guilty or not.” She finally gave in and let herself think about the situation head-on. “My heart tells me he’s not, but logic tells me he probably is.”
“I sure wish I’d met this guy!”
“Why?”
“He’s the only man who’s even got close enough for your heart to hear.”
Juliet took the next three minutes listing several men in her life who’d been closer to her than Mary Jane’s father had ever been.
Marcie mostly let her get away with this small refusal to face the truth as she saw it. Juliet hoped that meant her twin wasn’t really sure about the state of Juliet’s heart. Because she couldn’t afford, in any way, shape or form, to have her sister right on this one.
“Do you think there’s a chance Blake Ramsden will call you?”
Marcie’s question was another one she’d been trying—without success—to avoid. “I don’t know,” she said.
“Do you want him to?”
“I don’t know the answer to that, either.” Part of her did. If he was charged, as she knew he would be, he’d need her—if she could convince Eaton James to sign a waiver allowing her to represent Blake. Not only was she one of the most successful defense attorneys in the state, she had an intimate grasp of the details of this particular case.
And she wanted to be there for him.
He’d given her the most precious gift of her life. Just because he didn’t know that didn’t mean she didn’t owe him something in return.
Maybe even, because of that secret, she owed him.
And another part of her, the frightened, lonely part, wanted him to stay as far away from her and her happy little life as humanly possible.
MARY JANE DIDN’T GET scared that often. Which was why when she did get scared, it really scared her.
Something was up that was worse than anything at school or stupid people who didn’t like her. All weekend her mother had done normal stuff with her. She hadn’t cried, or asked for time alone, or forgotten that she’d promised to take Mary Jane for ice cream after they cleaned the bathrooms this week. She just hadn’t argued. Even when Mary Jane had brought up some of the craziest things she could think of, just to get her mother talking.
What if Mom was sick? The thought made her feel as if she was going to throw up. What would happen to her if something ever happened to Mom? She could go live with Aunt Marcie in Maple Grove, of course, which wouldn’t be all that great, but it wouldn’t be horrible like going to an orphanage. But no one would love her like Mom did. No one.
No one would think she was the most special thing on earth. Or tell her about important things even though she was just a kid. No one else, not even Aunt Marcie, would argue with her about things that had no answers like whether or not a chicken came first or an egg.
They’d all say she was just a kid and wait for her to grow up.
Turning over in her bed, Mary Jane bunched up the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut. Tomorrow was Monday, and school was even worse when she was sleepy.
She was being dumb. Mom wasn’t sick. If she was, she’d tell Mary Jane for sure. Besides, she’d had lots of energy and made Mary Jane clean the bathrooms twice while she scrubbed the kitchen floor, even though they hadn’t spilled anything.
Feeling a little better, Mary Jane was almost asleep when she remembered that still didn’t tell her what was wrong.
It must be really horrible.
It had to be or they would’ve talked about it. The only other time Mom hadn’t talked to her at all was when her grandma had died. Mary Jane had been really little, only about three, but she could still remember. Mostly she remembered that summer when she was going into first grade and had asked her mother what Grandma had died of and her mother had talked a lot but never really told her. Only, Mary Jane hadn’t figured that out until later.
Someday she was going to ask again. Maybe. When she was bigger.
So who died? It couldn’t be Aunt Marcie. They’d just talked to her on the phone that afternoon. And there wasn’t anyone else who mattered that much. Was there?
Her stomach hurt and Mary Jane turned over, but that didn’t help. She thought about the book she’d been reading, about the horse and the race and how Bonnie was going to win the race and get to keep her very own horse. But then she remembered that Bonnie didn’t have a mom and that made her scared all over again.
One time, on a night before the first day of school, Mom had told her to count sheep when she couldn’t sleep. Mary Jane hadn’t wanted to tell her she didn’t see any sheep when she closed her eyes.
Maybe they were having trouble paying their bills and they’d have to leave the cottage on the beach and Mom didn’t want to tell her because she knew how much Mary Jane loved living on the beach. But at school once, when she’d told a couple of the kids where she lived, the one girl, Corinne, who was mostly nice to her, had said that it cost a lot of money to live on the beach.
She wasn’t really worried about staying in this house on the beach. As long as she and Mom were together, she didn’t care if they were like the homeless people she saw on the benches along the road to the airport. But did they let kids live like that? She didn’t think so.
So did that mean if they couldn’t pay their bills someone would say that Mom couldn’t keep her? Surely then Mom would be willing to go back to Maple Grove and stay with Aunt Marcie, even though Mom hated Maple Grove so much.
Her head hurt and Mary Jane rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling though mostly she couldn’t really see it. Just shadows.
She was being dumb again. They had lots of money. Mom was almost famous and got paid a lot for her job. But maybe she was losing a big case and then people wouldn’t come to her anymore.
Mary Jane tried hard to sleep. As hard as she could. But it just didn’t come. The more she couldn’t go to sleep, the more scared she got.
Finally, when she couldn’t stand staying in her room all alone, she climbed out of bed, tiptoed down the hall to Mom’s room, lifted the covers quietly and slid in so gently the mattress hardly moved. She’d just lie there on the side of the bed, without even a pillow, so Mom wouldn’t know she was there.
Even if her neck hurt, she figured this was better than being in her own room. But then Mom’s arm came around her and pulled her close. Mom didn’t say anything. Just kissed her lightly by the eye and went back to sleep.
