Jar Of Dreams Part 20

"You'll have to do the telling so Aunt Gert doesn't realize Boone was just being his usual clumsy self," Crockett advised Jack. "I would tell her, but I took vows about lying."

"It seems to me, you change those vows you took to whatever is convenient at the moment," Boone complained. "When we were working at the station while Sims was laid up, you said you took a vow not to mop bathroom floors."

"Believe me, sometimes there's nothing convenient about vows." Crockett sounded grim.

Lucy thought she heard his sigh from twenty feet away. She smiled at the priest and stepped onto the back porch to follow Kelly inside.

"If the coffeemaker's intact and there's coffee inside a sealed container, we could probably drink some," Boone called.

"I was going to make it," Crockett added, "but I took a vow-ouch!" He ended on a yelp when Boone threw a handful of leaves at him. "Hey, those might have hurt," he protested when everyone laughed. "There was no telling what he'd loaded them with. And I really did take a vow not to make coffee, way back in seminary days. Mine was so bad, they made me promise."

The damage, in the light of day, wasn't as severe as they'd feared, although the mess was horrendous. Lucy started the dishwasher and the coffeemaker while Kelly swept broken gla.s.s from the pantry. She took trash bags in to clear the shelves.

Lucy stood in the middle of the kitchen, not sure what to do next. It was as though her mind was numb. She washed the cups in the sink-although she had to scrub the sink first-preparing a tray to take outside. A scratching sound made her turn toward the sunroom, expecting Kinsey to be sitting there, asking politely to be allowed inside.

Even before her mind registered the empty spot where the kitten always awaited entry, she remembered. And her legs nearly collapsed under her. She knew Kinsey might have survived the smoke, but it wasn't likely. The more probable scenario was that the cat went off by herself and died.

You've lost your parents, the place you grew up, everything that ever mattered to you. Shouldn't that have been a clue? But, no, you make people who don't belong to you into some kind of pseudo-family. And you fall in love with a silly little cat without any thought of how it would feel to lose her. You're an idiot, Lucy Dolan.

"I can't do this now," she said. "I'm sorry. I just can't." Moving almost blindly, she poured coffee into a thermal server.

"It's okay. We don't have to. The cleaning service will take care of it." Kelly's voice was soothing beside her. "Let me help take this out. And we'll stay out until you're ready."

I'll never be ready. But Lucy didn't say the words, just nodded and picked up the tray. "Will you get the door?"

Tom was there when they went outside, helping Jack with the mess Crockett and Boone made. His blunt features were grim. "Eli said everybody missed you at church this morning," he said. "He told them to stay away until at least Tuesday to give Gert time to settle in."

Lucy set the tray on the wrought iron table. Leaves stirred, and a flock of ducks flew overhead. They sounded querulous in their traveling conversation. Apprehension, unexpected and unwelcome, p.r.i.c.kled on the back of her neck and she s.h.i.+vered in response. What now?

Crockett crossed the yard and poured himself a cup of coffee. "I don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "Gert's never hurt anyone in her life. Why would someone want to damage her home, maybe even cost her her life?"

"Maybe this time," Tom said quietly, "we'll get a viable answer to those questions." He pushed the wheelbarrow to the back of the house and turned to face them, his hands hanging loose at his sides. "What do you think, Jack? Got any answers?"

It took a moment for the meaning of the sheriff's question to sink in, and when it did, the strength left Lucy's legs. "I need to sit down."

It appeared they all did, and they moved to the chairs around the table. Except for Tom and Jack, who were engaged in a stare-down.

The boy looked away first and, for a moment, Lucy thought he was going to run. But he didn't. His shoulders, broad for a boy his age, seemed slim when they drooped inside his ragged denim jacket. She remembered that vulnerability she'd felt in him when she'd hugged him. Oh, Jack.

"How'd you know it was me?" He maintained eye contact with the sheriff. It was probably easier than facing Gert's family-the people who had shown him only kindness. Even as anger flickered to life within her, Lucy ached for him.

"You're sixteen years old and you showed up here in the middle of the night and started working without being asked. There was a first report to the fire department-before Lucy called-made by someone with a young, panicky voice." Tom held something up. "We know where that call came from, and then we found this in the alley behind Gert's house earlier today." He tossed the wallet to the boy. "I reckon you wanted to get caught, didn't you, son?"

"That's just crazy. Why would I want to get caught?" But it was as though Jack was going through the motions of being a tough guy. He seemed tired more than scared, resigned rather than angry. And though he still looked sixteen in his frayed jacket and soot-streaked jeans, his eyes were much older. Older and sadder, surrounded by dark circles of what could have been either stress or fatigue. Or both.

"Jack." It was Crockett's voice, deep and gentle. "Maybe you should tell us what's going on."

The boy spoke directly to Kelly, his voice strained. "It was you. You ruined our family. My dad's in jail, my mom's working all the time, and my little brothers are living with people who don't really know them-who won't even let them have a nightlight. And they're still little. Too little to..." He swallowed hard, his eyes s.h.i.+ny with sudden moisture. "I wanted you to know how it felt."

Kelly, her face drained of color, shook her head in confusion. "But it wasn't me you hurt. It was Lucy. And Gert."

"But it was people you cared about, and that hurts worse than if it was you. I'd be okay, but my little brothers aren't. They're scared and lonesome and they think they must have done something bad to make things turn out the way they have."

Lucy met Boone's and Kelly's eyes in turn, understanding that they'd all felt that way about different circ.u.mstances in their lives. Understanding that whether he wanted to admit it or not, Jack thought he'd done something bad, too. Even before he did.

Kelly's face was ravaged. "I still don't get it," she said raggedly. "Jack, I was doing my job. You know that. I did the best I could, really I did."

"Maybe you did." Jack stopped to take a breath and regain control of his voice. "But my brothers are still in a foster home and my mom's still working double s.h.i.+fts. You're still living in that fancy place by the lake and we're losing ours. Do you know how long and how hard my folks worked for that little piece-of-s.h.i.+t house? How hard I worked to help Mom keep it so they could start over when he gets out of jail? Do you have any freakin' idea? And it's all been for nothing."

"I couldn't make your dad not guilty." Kelly spoke quietly, hopelessly. Tears streaked down her cheeks. "You shouldn't have had to grow up so fast. I'd have given so much to keep it from happening, but I couldn't, Jack. I couldn't."

His shoulders sagged even further in the jacket. "I know. In my head I know it. I always knew it. But I still wanted you to feel as bad as I did. As bad as my mom does."

"Lucy and I weren't even friends," Kelly said. "I was mad at her."

"I know, but Boone liked her, and Boone's your brother. Mrs. Taylor liked her and you love Mrs. Taylor." Jack covered his face with his hands for a painful s.p.a.ce in time. When he took his hands away, his eyes were tearwashed and dark. And still much older than sixteen. "It was the long way around, but I found stories about Lucy on the internet after she got here. I read about the fire in Richmond and I knew if I went through her, I could get to you. She didn't start the fire, but she was scared of it. She won't light candles or anything. Even birthday cakes make her antsy. She had me set buckets of water in the tearoom when there were birthday parties."

She had. She'd decorated the buckets and set weighted champagne bottles in them, but they'd been full of water. Jack had rolled his eyes, but he'd never argued with her about setting them out.

"It was easy to start the first trash fire behind Jenny's," Jack continued doggedly, once again raising his gaze to Tom's impa.s.sive face. "I didn't plan the one at the library, but Kelly and Lucy were both there that morning, so I lit it anyway." The tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, but he didn't wipe them away.

Lucy felt her heart break, the anger slipping away as quickly and quietly as it had come. Boone scooted closer and his arm came around her. She longed to bury her face in his shoulder and wish away the story they'd just heard.

"What about Stan Morgan's garage?" Tom asked.

"I didn't-"

"You don't have to answer that," Kelly interrupted, her voice so crisp everyone started at the sound of it. Her face was still pale and tear-streaked, her hand shaky when she raised it to forestall Jack's reply. "You're not under arrest, nor are you in the official presence of counsel."

"It doesn't matter. I'm done. I didn't start Mr. Morgan's fire. I never meant-" He stopped, tears robbing him of his voice. "No one was ever supposed to get hurt. I didn't want anything to be damaged. Even Lucy's van-I just meant to have a bunch of smoke come out from under the hood. I read how to do that but the instructions were wrong."

"Jack-the house." Tom pointed at the scorched siding and the ash and cinders they'd raked into piles away from the foundation. "Does that look to you like nothing was damaged?"

"I know." Jack flung his arm out as though to encompa.s.s the yard and the back of the house. "I didn't aim for it to burn, just the leaves. Most of them were in bags back there by the alley, so I thought it would be like the trash fire, only somehow it spread and the door to the sunroom was on fire before I knew what was happening. I called the fire department, but the smoke came up faster than I expected. When Kelly and Lucy came out and the fire trucks were coming, I thought it was going to be all right."

"All right?" Tom's voice was quiet, but anger was deep and deadly within it. "Son, Gert was in there. Lucy went in after her. They could have died."

"I didn't know Mrs. Taylor was here. Honest to G.o.d. Her car was gone and I figured she was with Mr. Sims. She stays over there sometimes." Anguish broke through and the tears came faster, making wet, heartbreaking trails on the boy's thin face. "She's going to be all right, isn't she? Isn't she? I wouldn't hurt her for anything. Oh, G.o.d. I wouldn't. I wouldn't."

Lucy exchanged glances with Kelly and saw the same emotion in the other woman's face that she felt. They'd hugged him just thirty-some hours before and wanted to protect him from all harm. There was no denying the fact that they still did.

Kelly pulled a tissue out of her pocket and gave it to him. She stroked a hand through his hair and he didn't pull away.

"She'll be all right." Boone held Lucy's hand. "Lucy's ankle will heal. She'll probably get over losing Kinsey, too, sometime. But how do you get over it, Jack? What do you do next? Torch Kelly's condo? Life's a b.i.t.c.h, son. It's a pain-in-the-a.s.s-sure-as-the-world-gonna-kill-you b.i.t.c.h. But you can't survive on the backs of other people. You just can't do it."

"Like I said, I'm done. I promise. I promise. I'll make it one of those vows like Father Noah has-only for real." He sat down as though his legs wouldn't hold him anymore, wiping his face with the already soggy tissue. "My dad said he got into something and he didn't know how to get out. I didn't believe him. I was-G.o.d, I was so mad at what he did to our family. If he'd said something, you know, I would have helped. I could have quit school and worked. But now I know how it can happen, that you know what you're doing is wrong and someone could get hurt, and you never intend to do it again."

He got up, pacing a short, agitated path. "But then something else comes up, like when they took my little brothers and they didn't want to go. They were crying and promising they'd behave and begging me to come and get them. And I couldn't. I couldn't." His voice broke all the way then, and he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with agonized sobs.

Crockett went to him, but Jack avoided the priest's touch, shaking his head. He accepted the new tissue Lucy offered with a nod of thanks, then stepped away long enough to blow his nose. The gaze he turned toward Kelly was dark with torment and weariness. "Last night, when you and Lucy came to the game and then stood in the parking lot afterward, it was like having a family again. It was that way today too, when we were raking out here and throwing leaves and even when you guys threw me into them...but then I went home and there wasn't anybody. My mom was working and things are packed up because we have to move. My brothers' foster parents won't even let me see them. There's a part of me that understands it's not really your fault, Kelly, but most of me is still mad."

He then met their eyes in turn. "I'll pay for the damages. It might take a while, but I can do it. I swear I can." He turned to Tom, straightening. "I'm ready to go wherever I have to. Can you not call my mom till later this afternoon? She's sleeping now."

Boone's hand tightened on Lucy's fingers so much she tried to pull away. He loosened his grip, but didn't let her go.

"Wait." Four voices spoke at once.

"No charges have been filed, Tom," Lucy said, "and I don't think any of us want to file any. Can't you just let him go home?"

"It's not that easy. Arson's a felony."

"It was vandalism," Boone argued, "and he's going to pay the damages. Every d.a.m.n dime of them, and if he has any thought we won't stand over him and make him do it, he's sadly mistaken."

"You can release him to us," Crockett suggested. "We'll take him home and talk to his mom."

Tom scowled. "You guys aren't even residents."

"Lucy and I are," Kelly said, "and if his mother was able to be here, you'd release him to her, wouldn't you? Or to Aunt Gert if she was home. You're scared of Aunt Gert. She made you and Micah and Eli come and clean the windows when you used paraffin on them that year." Kelly sounded smug, and Lucy shot her an admiring look.

"All right." Tom lifted his hands in surrender. His face was still grave, but his eyes were smiling. "We'll talk about this Monday morning in my office. Nine o'clock sharp. Your mother will need to be there, Jack. Can I count on you showing up or do I need to send a deputy to the high school in a cruiser?"

"Yes, sir. I mean no, sir. I'll be there." His eyes were red from weeping, their expression weary, but hope glimmered in their depths, too. He didn't smile-it wasn't time for that yet-but the hopelessness was gone from his voice. He sounded almost like the kid Lucy had poured ice over. The kid they all loved.

"There's another part to this, too." Boone was somber. "If it hadn't been for the smoke, we don't know if anyone would have found Gert in time-she had the heart attack before the fire. There's nothing that makes what the kid did all right, but that goes a long way."

When it was sorted out, Crockett and Boone took Jack home again, staying to inform and rea.s.sure his mother. When they asked if Jack could come back to Twilight Park Avenue with them to work a few more hours that day, beginning his time of rest.i.tution, she agreed.

Lucy called and suggested they stop at McDonald's to pick up a late lunch for everyone. They bought Jack two Quarter Pounders with cheese and a large order of fries.

"I can't eat," he protested. "I'll get sick."

But he was sixteen. He ate. Including the cherry turnovers Kelly and Lucy didn't have room for and the fish sandwich that had been placed in the sack by accident. And he didn't get sick.

Boone, Lucy, Crockett and Kelly visited Gert in the hospital, telling her and Sims the necessary details. While they were there, Jack came in. He was carrying a bouquet of mums. "Mr. Morgan sent them. There's something I have to tell you, ma'am."

"All right, Jack. Have a seat." Gert regarded her niece, nephews and Lucy over the top of her gla.s.ses. "They were just leaving. They're going to Down at Jenny's to get me a large gla.s.s of sweet tea, because this hospital can't seem to make it so a body can drink it."

When Lucy and Kelly returned to the room with tea for Gert and coffee for Sims, Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed playing cards with the older couple. His eyes were red again. So were theirs. And whatever their conversation may have been, they weren't sharing a word of it.

Lucy and Kelly went back to meet Boone and Crockett at Down at Jenny's. A sense of relief gave them an appet.i.te. The men and Kelly told stories on themselves that had them all helpless with laughter. Lucy recounted tales of growing up in the kitchen of a restaurant, adding Johnny Dolan's brogue to her voice.

Afterward, Kelly returned to her condo and Crockett went to talk to Father Fitzpatrick, the rector at St. Charles. Boone and Lucy walked back to the tearoom, quiet after the emotional night and day.

Inside, at the foot of the front staircase, Boone drew her into his arms, holding her close. "Hey," he said, after a kiss that stole both her breath and the strength from her knees, "I'd like to make love with you. What do you think?" He kissed her again, his hands warm where they touched, eliciting heat even where they did not.

She wanted it more than anything. Wanted the excitement and the joy of being with him. Wanted the exquisite release of... Well, of release. Wanted that few minutes that she was always sure he loved her as much as she loved him. Oh, yes, she wanted it.

And she didn't think she could bear it. Not now. Not when every single feeling she possessed was as raw as if she'd just run her box-grater over each of them. "No," she said. And for the second time that day, "I'm sorry. I just can't."

She ran upstairs, not wanting to see his face if he was angry, because she didn't think she could stand it if he was. A minute later, when she was dropping a soft cotton nightgown over her head, he tapped softly at her door. "Sleep tight," he said through the panel.

"You too," she called.

She took pain-relievers to ease the steady throb of her ankle, then slipped between the sheets of her bed. She lay on her side and took a deep breath to relax. And another. And one more.

Only then did she allow herself to think about Kinsey and weep hot, forlorn tears into the pillow.

Chapter Nineteen.

"It wasn't that bad, ma'am." On Wednesday afternoon, the owner of the cleaning service held open the new door to the sunroom for Gert to step inside. "I had a full crew in here and Sam from the paint store brought in another crew and we got it cleaned up, painted, and fresh-aired in no time flat. You'll want to change your curtains and throw rugs, but other than that and replacing your food, you're good to go." She beamed at Lucy. "You should be able to reopen by Friday, I reckon, and we'll be here for lunch."

"It'll be on the house," Lucy promised. She opened the doors into the kitchen, allowing Gert to precede her, turning to wave at the cleaning crew as they got into their van. "Sit down," she ordered. "You can make a list of what we'll need."

Gert took her usual seat at the island, reaching for a pen and her notebook. "Are you going to spend the next six months telling me to sit down?"

"Probably."

"You're staying, aren't you? There's no longer a reason to leave, not that there was ever a rational one, anyway."

Lucy peered around at the big kitchen, amazed. If she hadn't known the room had been full of smoke, water, and broken gla.s.s only a few days ago, she'd never have believed it. But the notes that always covered the refrigerator were gone, the pantry was empty. Even her pickle jar had been removed from the counter. She hoped it was around somewhere, but it was hard to think about dreaming right now anyway.

"We need all the staples." Gert was scribbling busily. "You can go to the wholesaler for those." She looked up. "Lucy? You didn't answer me. You are staying, right?"

Lucy went to stand at the window, gazing out at the driveway. Jack was there, having come straight from school. He was wheeling the power washer out of the garage. He met her gaze through the wavy old gla.s.s and smiled tentatively.

In this family that had become hers, he was the wayward little brother as surely as Gert was the mom and Sims the dad. Crockett was the handsome older brother, Kelly the grouchy sister. Boone was...he was...

He was back in Chicago is what he was, drawing cartoons and finding himself a new life without the wife he'd loved. It remained to be seen if there would be room in that life for Lucy.

And what if there wasn't? What if they ended up as "just friends," that cla.s.sification Crockett and Kelly were trying to attain? Could Lucy stand it? For a minute, the thought made breathing difficult, made her eyes sting.

But the alternative-moving on down the road until she found another place that might be like home, saying goodbye to Gert and Sims and the kid in the back yard and even to Kelly-that would be worse.

She smiled back at Jack and raised a hand in greeting. "Yeah," she said, going to sit at the island with Gert. "I'm staying."

Boone peered into the kitchen area of the old Knights of Pythias building, then checked the restrooms again. The plumbing was good, Sims'd said, but the fixtures needed replacing. Did they ever-all that was missing were chain-operated toilet tanks on the walls. The wiring, on the other hand, needed a complete redo. He was pretty sure k.n.o.b and tube wasn't even legal, plus G.o.d knew that if anyone could electrocute himself with it, Boone was that person.

The meeting room was perfect for a studio, and there were smaller rooms along the west side of the building that would work for private offices. There was a storage area upstairs as well as a s.p.a.cious three-bedroom apartment complete with two fairly modern bathrooms. The "bones" of the building were st.u.r.dy, with recently replaced windows and roof.