Where The Heart Is Part 44

"You're wrong, Novalee. I knew. I knew she was okay and I knew she was with you. In Sequoyah."

"How? How did you know that?"

"I called your house."

"You what?" She was fighting for control, but the words crackled with anger.

"Oh, I never said nothin' to her. Anyway, you usually answered the phone. But a few times, she did." He seemed to drift away, then he smiled. "I heard her voice . . . and that was enough. Got me through some bad times."

"You were coming for her, weren't you?"

"Coming for her? What do you mean?"

"You were going to try to take her." Novalee could feel the muscles of her face tighten. "You were going to take her away from me."

"How could I do that?"

"What? w.i.l.l.y Jack Pickens do something so low as to steal a child?"

"Steal her? That's what you think?" w.i.l.l.y Jack grabbed the rails of the bed and pulled himself up. "What the h.e.l.l you think I'm gonna do, Novalee. Run away with her?"

He yanked at the sheet that was covering him and threw it on the floor. "I'm not doing a h.e.l.l of a lot of running these days."

His legs ended just below the knees. Novalee wanted to look away, but she didn't. She knew that's what he was after. He wanted to 350 shock her, but she wouldn't let him get by with it. She wouldn't let him get the best of her. Not ever again.

She walked to the end of the bed and looked, without flinching, at the puckered flesh. The thick, ugly scars.

"How did you know I was here, Novalee?"

"I read about you in the newspaper."

"What did it say? Poor pitiful cripple can't get off the floor of the john?"

"Something like that."

"Well, if the cripple can't even manage to get out of the toilet, how the h.e.l.l's he gonna get in your house and steal your girl? 'Course, if he finds a phone booth and changes into Superman, then-"

"Don't try to get funny. Don't try to change this."

"And how would the cripple take care of her once he got her? Now if he could grow legs and if he could get a new liver, then maybe . . ."

"If you think I'm going to feel sorry for you, you're wrong."

"Then maybe maybe he could run Disney World." he could run Disney World."

"Why did you come back here?" Novalee's voice was growing louder.

"Or maybe maybe he'd go into banking." he'd go into banking."

"If it wasn't for Americus, then why?" She knew she was losing it, but she couldn't stop.

"I suppose he could could become a judge." become a judge."

"Why?" she screamed. "Why are you here?"

The only sound came from the hall, cus.h.i.+oned footsteps and the swish of nylon as a scowling nurse marched in.

"You have a problem in here?" She looked from w.i.l.l.y Jack to Novalee. "I could hear you all the way down the hall."

"Sorry," w.i.l.l.y Jack said.

351.

Then she saw the sheet on the floor. "What in the world is going on?"

"It just slipped off."

"Oh." She gathered up the sheet and dropped it beside the door, then pulled a fresh one from the top of a closet. "I thought maybe you were jumping on the bed." She flipped the sheet open and let it settle over w.i.l.l.y Jack, then she checked his IV. "I've got a shot for you if you need it."

"I'm doing all right. Let's wait."

"You let me know," she said. "And no more rough stuff down here." Then she wheeled and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Novalee went to the window and stared out. The sky, almost cloudless, appeared to be a strange shade of green through the tinted gla.s.s.

"Novalee." w.i.l.l.y Jack's voice dropped nearly to a whisper. "I done a bad thing to you. The worst I ever done to anyone, I guess.

But then, most of what I've done's been bad."

Novalee was listening, but she didn't trust what she was hearing.

She knew better.

"Now I know there's not much to redeem me. Not much at all 'cause I only done two good things in my whole d.a.m.ned life. And I don't suppose it took much to do either one . . . but they was both my doin'."

Novalee listened for the snarl, then turned to look for the smirk he could never hide, but she couldn't see it.

"I fathered a child, a sweet child, I imagine, if she's anything like her mother. And I wrote a song. A d.a.m.ned good song. But, of course, I screwed around. Messed myself up. I ran away from one of them . .

352.

. and I got the other stole from me. h.e.l.l, I probably deserved it. But that don't change the goodness of either one of 'em. And I hope that counts for something."

"w.i.l.l.y Jack . . ."

He held up one hand, a gesture for a little more time. "Now that don't make me good. That won't change anything, won't right all the wrongs I done or help the people I hurt. It's only two things, Novalee, but it means I wasn't all bad. It means it wasn't all a waste."

Novalee didn't want to feel what she was feeling, didn't want to believe what she'd heard. She had been hanging on to the w.i.l.l.y Jack she knew for such a long time, the one who didn't care, the w.i.l.l.y Jack she had taught herself to hate. She knew she could handle him, but this w.i.l.l.y Jack was throwing her off balance. And she knew the worst thing she could do was to lose her balance.

"w.i.l.l.y Jack, you said you came back here to tell me something about Americus."

"Yeah." He scooted around in the bed and grimaced with the effort. "You remember the last day? The last day we was together?"

Novalee nodded.

"You asked me if I wanted to feel the baby and you put my hand on your belly, but I said I didn't feel nothing. You said that if I tried, I could feel the heart."

Can't you feel that tiny little bomp . . . bomp . . . bomp?

"I said I couldn't and tried to pull my hand back, but you wouldn't let me."

Feel right there.

353.

"Your voice was so soft, just a whisper, but I heard what you said."

That's where the heart is.

w.i.l.l.y Jack's face was streaked with tears, but he didn't wipe them away. "I lied, Novalee. I lied to you." His voice sounded heavy and tired. "I said I couldn't feel it, but I did. I felt that baby's heartbeat. I felt it as sure as I could feel my own. But I lied."

"Why?"

"Lord, I don't know. Why does anyone lie? 'Cause we're scared or crazy, maybe just 'cause we're mean. I guess there's a million reasons to lie, and I might've told that many . . . but none like that. I guess there's always that one lie we never get over."

"What?"

"Oh, maybe you don't know about it yet. Maybe you never told a lie so big it can eat away a part of you.

"But if you ever do . . . and if you get lucky . . . you might get a chance to set it right. Just one chance to change it.

"Then it's gone. And it never comes again."

"Deposit two dollars and seventy-five cents."

Novalee fumbled eleven quarters into the slot, then pressed the receiver to her ear as the phone began to ring.

"Oh, please be there," she whispered after she had counted three rings.

one lie we never get over On the fourth ring, she closed her eyes and ran her hand through her hair.

354.

just one chance to change it She twisted the phone cord so tightly around her hand that by the fifth ring, her fingers had turned white.

then it's gone . . .

After the sixth ring, she felt weak and leaned against the phone booth door.

and it never comes again Then she got lucky. He answered on the seventh ring.

"Chaucer's."

When she heard his voice, her throat tightened, choking off breath, choking off sound.

"Chaucer's Book Store."

She tried to say his name, but something hard knotted and swelled in the hollow below her throat.

Then he said, "h.e.l.lo?"

She remembered dreams, bad dreams in which she would try to call for help, but the words would be tangled and trapped inside her.

"Well . . ." he said and she knew he was going to hang up.

She squeezed out a sound, more like a whimper than a word, but he heard it.

"I'm sorry. Can you speak up?"

Then something broke loose and his name tumbled out as she swallowed air and began to cry without sound.

"Novalee?"

"I . . . I called be . . . cause . . ." Her voice, broken with sobs, cracked the words in two.

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"What's wrong, Novalee? What is it?"

"Forney . . ."

"Is it Americus? Is she all right?"

Snuffling breath, Novalee managed to say, "She's fine," though the words sounded pinched and bent.

"Then what's the matter?"

Novalee could feel her heart quicken. Then, squeezed between convulsions of air, the words exploded from her lips.

"I lied, Forney."

Seconds turned into lifetimes while Novalee strained to hear some sound . . . a whisper of voice, an embrace of breath.

"Oh, don't let it be too late, Forney. Please don't let it be too late."

She prayed he was still on the line, prayed they were still connected.

"I lied to you . . . and I'm sorry."