But she loved Frank and his ponytail and his dropout lifestyle. And she was starting to love those high-maintenance girls. They were young. With the right kind of guidance, they could be okay.
She called Meg and told her she was staying in the city until the girls were discharged and on their way home with their father. Then she drove to the flower shop that Jo managed and found her behind the counter. Thankfully there were no customers in the store. Jo smiled when she saw Charley enter.
“Is your helper here?” Charley asked.
“Not yet. She doesn’t come in until eleven.”
“Good. I have a very complicated story to tell you. It’s family business.”
Jo’s smile faded. “This doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good news. Is Meg okay?”
“She’s hanging in there. This is more about your family. Hope and the girls came to the lake.”
“They did?” she asked, wide-eyed. “They actually came?”
“It didn’t last long,” Charley said. “It didn’t go well.”
Charley carefully went through the details, mapping out as best she could all the disjointed family relationships Hope had concocted. It was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. Jo was calm and listened raptly, even asking a few questions, but it was Charley who felt a tear spill over as she explained Trude and Bobbi didn’t even know who their grandmother was. “All this time Hope has given me billing as her sister, apparently you’ve become a distant relative and Grandma Berkey is the woman who raised her. I was so furious I thought I’d strangle her. But it isn’t just her fantasy life. It turns out she’s legitimately delusional. With John’s help, she’s in the temporary care of the psych ward, where she’s being evaluated. She’s going to need someone to see after her, legally if nothing else, and I’m afraid it’s not going to be me.”
“Of course not,” Jo said. “I suppose that should be my responsibility. But first, I have to see the girls. Let me call Margie and see if she can come early. Are you going back to the lake now?”
“Not just yet. I’ll be glad to take you to the hospital.”
“Do you mind if we stop by my apartment?” she asked. “I’d like to put on my nicest summer pants and top.”
“Of course we can,” Charley said.
It was nearly noon by the time they arrived at the hospital. Frank stood up from the end of Trude’s bed as they entered the room.
“Frank, this is Josephine Hempstead, Hope’s mother. I’m sure you met at least once...”
“Yes,” he said, sticking out a hand. “But—”
“I know,” Jo said. “You were told Hope was raised by her grandparents. That wasn’t entirely true. She did live with them for a couple of years in high school and they sent her to college. I wasn’t there for Hope in the ways she wanted or needed. I regret that I let her just have her way about that. Maybe all this confusion is really my fault. I thought it might hurt more than help if I demanded you and everyone present know the truth. She wanted a more proper and more financially able family to present to your family and my parents were only too happy to conspire in that. I was a great disappointment to them in those ways.”
“I’m afraid the girls think you’re an aunt,” he said.
“And I’m here to explain if I can,” Jo said. She looked at the girls. “My darlings, you are so beautiful, so perfect.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Hempstead, but I was told you and Hope were estranged, that you hadn’t been in touch in years,” Frank said.
“I wrote and called every month,” Jo said. “I sent little gifts for the girls. Nothing flashy, but... But let me see if I can start from the beginning and explain what is real and what isn’t. Hope has always exaggerated and fantasized, but when she was fifteen, when our family was at the lowest, when one of the cousins died suddenly, the youngest one, when Hope’s father abandoned us and the girls and I were left poor and emotionally crippled, that’s when Hope seemed to decide she wasn’t just going to wish to be someone else, she was going to become someone else. She moved in with my parents, where they were happy to do everything they would do for a daughter—buy her beautiful dresses, give her a debutante’s ball, pay for a prestigious college, an expensive and showy wedding—all the things Hope seemed to crave and need. I admit, I was angry. I felt rejected and had two other daughters who needed me. But I promise you, I never knew she was beginning to believe it. And now maybe I can see...she needed me most of all.”
Charley listened in wonder and admiration as Jo explained in vivid detail each small fantasy Hope concocted and how everyone in the family called them her “castles in the air.” How no one took her seriously.
Jo explained the whole family tree—Jo and Louise marrying brothers, having a daughter each year until there were six, summers at the lake where they were protected from the real world for three months. How it hurt her so much when Hope rejected her, how she longed to be with her granddaughters. “I didn’t realize for years that we were all in such a bad place. There’d been a family tragedy, you see, leaving every single one of us so badly unable to cope. Hope’s irritating refusal to face reality honestly seemed like the least of our troubles. In fact, I thought she’d somehow escaped the craziness that seemed to oppress the rest of us. I had no idea...”
“She’s crazy,” Bobbi boldly put in.
Jo nodded solemnly. “I’m told by your cousin Charley—Hope is ill. I’m going to visit her today, but I’m not optimistic that she’ll snap out of it. She’s going to need help. I admit, I don’t know what to do. I’ll ask Megan’s husband, Dr. Crane. He’s always so willing to help. But I promise I’ll do what I can.” Then she smiled so sweetly. “I’ve lost so much time with you,” she said. “Hope always sent me pictures. But if I asked to visit she said you were going to Europe! So many trips to Europe.”
“We went once,” Trude said. “We went to France with Dad and Pam. To see the Tour de France. Dad and Pam are big cyclists.”
“I sell bikes. We make custom bikes,” Frank said.
“But...I thought you were with an investment firm,” Jo said.
“I left that firm years ago,” he said.
“Oh, my God, it’s going to take a lifetime to untangle everything!” Jo just shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”
Bobbi laughed and said, “Why even bother!”
“It comes in handy later,” Frank said. “When you’re trying to decide exactly who you want to be. Reject some of this, keep some of that, laugh at some, cringe at others... I’m the last person to poke fun. My family had some pretty wacky characters. I heard my father talk about a family feud a few generations ago, back when there were wakes in people’s houses. Two sides of the family hated each other so meanly and fought so bitterly they put the casket on wheels and rolled it between rooms—the Hatfields in the parlor and the McCoys in the dining room.”
Bobbi giggled. “You’re making it up!”
“There are a million stories like that,” Charley said. “Some families are doomed to keep repeating their problems. The Hatfields and McCoys can’t even remember what started their feud.”
“I heard it was a pig,” Frank said. “One of them stole a pig from the other one and ate it before they’d get caught.”
“I’m totally going to barf,” Trude said.
“I thought it was a marriage situation,” Charley said. “A Hatfield son ran off with a McCoy daughter who was engaged to someone else.”
“That came later,” Jo said. “After the feud got started. They intermarried a lot—it was probably just a matter of forbidden fruit being so desirable. At least that’s always been my excuse.” She stood up. “I should never have left you all alone just because Hope was being herself. I should have come to Pennsylvania to see you, get to know you. One of my many mistakes. But I’m going to get about the business of trying to get thi
ngs right. First thing on my list, I’ll see what I can do about Hope.” She went to Bobbi’s bed first. “I don’t want you to worry about your mother—I’ll keep you informed but you don’t have to take on this burden.”
Jo opened her arms and Bobbi gave her a hug. “Thank you. Please let us know. We love her but—”
“I understand completely,” Jo said. “I’ll get phone numbers from your dad and I promise to stay in touch.”
She opened her arms to Trude, and while the younger girl hesitated, she finally let herself be hugged. “Don’t be too mad at our mom,” she said.
“I’m not going to be mad at her,” Jo said. “Not now. Now I think it’s time we make up and get well. Right?”
Trude nodded. “We never got any gifts...”
“I know, darling,” Jo said. She kissed Trude’s forehead. “We have lots of time in front of us.”
* * *
Charley had been very reluctant to leave Jo at the hospital, even though Jo insisted she could navigate the bus system. “Believe me, I can manage,” Jo assured her. “I’ve done so many times.”
“You don’t even carry a phone,” Charley said.
“I’m going to take care of that, too,” Jo said. “To tell the truth, I never felt the need before. I have a perfectly good phone in my condo and at the shop and survived many years without a cell phone. Remember, life used to be like that. If we went shopping we made our calls when we got home. What a concept!”
“But, Jo, no car and no phone? What if the bus doesn’t come? Or what if there’s some bad character on the bus?”
“You’re spoiled, Charley. The bus is probably safer than a parking garage. But now that my daughter is at the lake, I’m rethinking the car also. Suddenly I have a lot of running around to do. And a lot of people to call. For today, I’ll be perfectly fine. Go back to the lake, see if you can explain all this to the girls while I dig a little deeper.”
“I don’t want you taking the bus after dark...”
“Go! I’m as capable of taking the bus or a train as you are! I don’t know how long I’ll be in trying to see Hope and talk to a doctor.”
“I can see Jo home,” Frank chimed in. “I’ll even tell John she’s loose on the mean streets of Saint Paul—I’m sure he’d be happy to provide car service, as well.”
“Everyone is being ridiculous,” Jo groused. Then she turned and went to the elevator, trusting everyone she was leaving behind to go about their business.
Her first mission was extremely frustrating. Hope was in a locked ward, listed as a patient in observation. She was an adult, a single adult making her own decisions unless a psychiatrist said otherwise. And she wasn’t to have visitors for forty-eight hours while she was being evaluated.
She went back in search of Frank and eventually John. Charley was thankfully gone. To her relief she found that Frank was more than willing to help in any way he could but he didn’t think it would be beneficial to Hope or the girls for him to step in as a legal guardian. But he did offer to help Jo in that capacity if necessary. John was friendly with a couple of the psych doctors and could find out when she’d be able to visit and what she could do to help. Then John drove her home.
But Jo didn’t stay there. John had barely pulled away when she was off again, on the bus. This line she was quite familiar with—she rode to the stop nearest her sister’s house. She rang the bell and rapped on the door. It was a long moment before there was a shadow over the peephole and the lock slid.
Louise towered over her. The expression on her face was equal parts surprise and displeasure. “What are you doing here?” Louise asked.
“I’ve come to ask for your help.”
The corners of Lou’s lips turned up. “Well, isn’t that a surprise.”
“We’re losing our children, Lou,” Jo said. “And our grandchildren. It’s time to put this bitterness behind us and pull it together.”
“And how do you suppose we’re going to do that?”
“I imagine it will take hours if not days of negotiation but I believe we can do it. We have to for the sake of our family.”
“I see. You’re willing to negotiate? And what do you have to offer in the bargain?”
“The truth,” Jo said, standing as tall as she could. “We’ll work some things out or I’ll tell.”
Louise flinched. “No one would believe you!”
“I’ll risk it,” Jo said. “But what I’d rather do is talk. Louise, I’m sorry for what I did, and though you haven’t said so, I know you have your own regrets. Let’s end this. We’ve already lost so much, not the least of which—each other.”
Louise seemed to think about that for a long, difficult moment. Then she backed up and held the door open for Jo to enter.
* * *
Krista was not surprised to see her boss waiting near the lot with the swing. He walked her most of the way around the lake every day. Sometimes he held her hand for a few seconds. He smiled when he saw her coming. She smiled back, knowing it was a little crooked.
“Want to talk about it?”
She laughed a little. “You really don’t have time.”
“Long story?”
“About three generations. Listen, why do you hold my hand? Are you coming on to me or something?”
“I know you’ve been locked up for twenty-three years but you said you had television. Don’t you get it? I like you. I like your determination. Your boldness.”
“Boldness,” she said with a laugh. “I’m hard, that’s what I am. Didn’t your mama tell you not to get mixed up with hoods?”
“You’re no hood,” he said. “Are you having some kind of PTSD about jail or something? Anything wrong with work?”
“The work is great,” she said. “My family is a wreck, that’s all. And I’m sure I’m part of the problem. A large part of the problem. Can you imagine what it must be like to have your sister or your auntie be an ex-con? And you know me—I don’t soft-pedal it. They get squeamish and I have to shove it right in their faces.”
“Really on a roll, aren’t you,” he said with a laugh. “What happened?”
“You really want to hear this? My sister came with her daughters and was acting so crazy that her girls borrowed her car in the middle of the night, got in an accident and everyone’s in the hospital. They’re okay but it turns out Hope isn’t just an uppity bitch—they put her in the psych ward because she’s delusional. Maybe bipolar or something. And man, I was so hard on her. She’s crazy and in need of help and what did I do? I came down on her.”
“But they’re okay now?” he asked.
“They’re going to be fine. Except Hope. Hope’s going to need help and who knows if she can get better.”
“I’m sorry, Krista. You must have so many adjustments to make. And families, by their very nature, get messy regularly. I can relate. My own family has had similar ups and downs. We had some messes to clean up...”
“What kind of—Oh, I’m sorry. That’s none of my business...”
“I brought it up, you didn’t. No one went to jail or anything, but not for lack of trying. I got into trouble when I was a kid—I didn’t want to be a poor farm kid. I wanted to be a rich city kid, one whose way was paved with money. So I tried to hang with the rich guys, tried pretending to be one, then took it out on my family when dishonesty didn’t work out for me. I drank too much, drove too fast, partied with the best of them, and once I finally made my way to college, I got tossed out for not only failing but getting into trouble.”
“What kind of trouble—I’d love to know.”
He took her hand and they walked a bit. “Well, let’s see—on a drunken dare, I streaked through a Gophers’ football game. A couple of friends of mine and I put a skunk in the dean’s office. And there were multiple instances of disorderly conduct.
It just took me a longer than average length of time to figure out the world didn’t owe me anything. Meanwhile, my parents were furious and confused, my sister was ashamed of me—she didn’t invite me to her wedding. I married the first girl who would have me, had a couple of kids I couldn’t support, stumbled from job to job and messed up every one until my wife did the smart thing and divorced me. That’s the condensed version.”
She stopped walking for a minute and looked up at him. She was fascinated. He was such a stellar boss, such a supportive and understanding man; it was hard to picture him that stupid. That irresponsible. She smiled at him. “Kid stuff,” she said.
He laughed.
“What turned you around?”
“Well, busted, a broke failure in all the ways I thought I knew better, I just went home to the farm. And of course I didn’t make that easy on anyone. There was an adolescent piece of me that tried to make it all their fault, but they’re old-school country people and didn’t take the bait. Instead, they put me to work. Little by little, year by year, I guess I built myself up morally, got an education. My wife remarried and took the kids out of state and I wanted to be close to them so I got the only job I could find in Arizona—at a resort. And that began the resort trade for me. Many disappointments and failures led to me finally landing on my feet, after being bounced on my head many times.”
“How old are you, Jake?”
“Me? Forty-six.”
“Where will you go from here? Another resort?”
“I might have one or two more in me,” he said. “But I kind of like it here. I bought a lot on this lake. Someday I’ll put a house on it. This is where I’m from—I grew up around here. My mom and dad are gone now but my sister and brother are here and my kids are pretty much raised.”
“What happened to the farm?”
“My sister’s husband farms. Sometimes I help, like around planting and the harvest, but they bought me out. I always thought it was a poor farm, that we were poor. We weren’t poor but my folks didn’t indulge—you never know when a bad year is going to just about wipe you out so you don’t go buying your kids fancy things when you need a new combine.”