Fire and Rain, Season 2, Episode 5 (Rising Storm) (2 page)

“I’ve told you, it won’t be like this forever. I promise you that. Are you at home? Can I come over?”

“You said we were going to take the next step soon,” her voice came out harder than she meant for it to, but she forged on. “When is that going to be?”

“I’m making plans, believe me. There’s nothing I want more than for us to be together. I need you, sweetheart. The sooner the better.”

Finally, she smiled. She shouldn’t have doubted him. What they shared was special. She was confident he’d never wanted his wife with the desperation he showed for her. “You promise? You’re leaving your wife soon?”

“I promise. Now, what are you wearing?”

She could make peace with her role in his life at the moment, as long as she knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
It’s only temporary,
she told herself for the thousandth time.
Someday he’ll leave his wife and when he does, I’ll be here.
“Why don’t you come over and find out?”

* * * *

Travis was practically out the door when something gave him pause. Someone was in the kitchen. Cooking. Which was odd, because it certainly wasn’t Celeste.

His next guess would have been Sara Jane, and he was more than a little surprised to find that it was Lacey. “Hey, there. What are you doing?”

She gave him a wobbly smile that made him want to hug her close. “Am I that hopeless? I was trying to cook. I thought that it might make Mom feel better. Back, you know…before, it’s the sort of thing she’d have done to try to make us feel better. I thought it was worth a shot.”

Travis found himself blinking rapidly. “What a sweet, thoughtful daughter you are. I think that’s a great idea.” He sniffed the air and peered into the pot on the stove. “Um, what is it?”

She laughed, and he found himself laughing with her. It felt so good to see something other than misery written across her beautiful young face. “It’s marinara sauce. I was trying to keep it simple. Apparently not simple enough.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” he told her, and meant it. He knew his daughter had been feeling lost, and this meal, which clearly displayed her sensitivity and concern toward her mother, seemed like a step in the right direction.

Lacey studied him, obviously noticing that he was dressed for work. “I thought it was your day off?”

He grimaced. “You know how it is. There’s always something. Luckily I have you to take care of your mother while I’m gone.”

“Oh, my God.” His other daughter, Sara Jane, rounded the corner and came into view. “What on earth is that smell?”

They started laughing again and Sara Jane joined in.

“I was trying to cook something for Mom,” Lacey eventually got out. “To make her feel better.”

They all stopped laughing, but a smile remained on Sara Jane’s face as she said, “Great idea, but let’s start over. I’ll give you some pointers this time.”

Travis hugged his daughters good-bye, and they both hugged him fiercely back. Neither one of them nagged him about going into work on his day off. They were good girls.

He left to see Kristin with a lighter heart. At least his daughters were both beginning to act like themselves again. Surely, when Celeste realized that, she’d begin her own recovery.

CHAPTER TWO

Payton Rush was worried about her sister. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose her son, and she knew that it would take time for her sister to begin the healing process, but it seemed to her that things were getting worse for Celeste, not better.

Much worse, in fact.

Her sister had withdrawn. Payton couldn’t reach her on the phone, and the last time Payton had shown up at Celeste’s house to check on her, her normally put together sister wouldn’t even leave her bedroom to come greet her.

Payton had left feeling concerned and helpless. But now she was back, and this time she’d brought reinforcements—their mother, Bethany.

Lacey answered the door, looking a little lost, but she smiled tentatively when she saw who was there. “Hi, Aunt Payton. Hello, Grandma. Have you come to see Mom?”

Payton nodded, her gaze soft on her niece. “How is she today?”

Lacey hitched up one shoulder in a shrug that looked awkward on the normally confident girl. “The same. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but nothing seems to help. She’s, um, still in bed. She finally left her room last night, but it was only to grab some photo albums and…a bottle of vodka.”

Payton took a bracing breath. It was worse than she’d thought.

“Is your mother
drunk
?” Bethany asked her granddaughter, and Payton couldn’t decide if she sounded outraged or scandalized. Either way, it wasn’t good.

Lacey shrugged again, looking more unsure of herself by the second.

Payton smiled gently at her niece. The girl had been through too much. “Would you do me a huge favor? Would you mind going out to grab some things from the grocery store while we talk to your mom?”

Lacey looked relieved as she nodded. “Does that mean you’re going up to her room? She’s not herself right now.”

“We understand,” Bethany assured her. “Don’t worry about it for another second. We’re here to help. With any luck at all, we’ll get your mother back to herself in no time.”

Lacey didn’t look convinced, but she did look more than happy to have an excuse to leave for a bit.

Payton took a quick inventory in the kitchen and made out a short list of essentials, wondering all the while why Travis always seemed to be working. Under the circumstances, it seemed like he’d make a point of at least getting basic grocery shopping done.

She had a bad feeling about what her sister’s husband was up to, but that was a battle for another day.

With Lacey off to the store and effectively distracted, Payton began to fix up a tray for her sister. Nothing fancy. Coffee, water, dry toast. Aspirin.

She picked up the tray and looked at her mother. “Are you ready for this?”

Bethany squared her shoulders. “It’s gone on long enough. Let’s go handle your sister.”

Payton felt reassured. Their mother had always been a steady, capable, no-nonsense woman. If anyone could get through to Celeste, she figured it was Bethany.

The two women paused briefly outside of Celeste’s closed bedroom door. The house was deathly quiet.

Payton knocked. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been in her sister’s bedroom. Not for years. A lot of years.

“She might be sleeping,” Payton mused after a few moments of tense silence.

Bethany huffed. “Unacceptable. It’s midafternoon.” She tried the doorknob. It turned easily, and she swung the door open.

What met their gazes was both better and worse than what they’d expected.

The room was relatively neat. The vast majority of it was in order, in fact. Books still on their shelves. All of the knickknacks on the dresser seemed to be in their place. Even the decorative pillows on the chaise lounge by the window were perfectly arranged.

Every out of place thing seemed to be centered on the bed. Strewn across it were photo albums, scrapbooks, and loose pictures.

And most out of place of all was her sister, looking more unkempt than Payton had ever seen. Her normally coifed hair was a tangled rat’s nest and it looked like Celeste hadn’t seen the right end of a shower in days. Her face was gaunt, her eyes open but red-rimmed and swollen, and with no expression at all. Her clothes were a wrinkled mess, and Payton had no doubt she’d been wearing them for days.

There was a bottle of vodka on the bedside table. It was three quarters empty.

“Oh, Celeste,” Payton exclaimed. Things had deteriorated even further than she’d imagined, and she wasn’t sure how to help her poor, grief-stricken sister.

Bethany’s reaction was not quite so sympathetic. Their mother visibly bristled. She’d raised her daughters to honor their obligations and never shirk their duties, so Payton knew this was particularly difficult for her to witness. “What on earth is going on here, Celeste?” Her voice rang out sharply.

Celeste didn’t react. In fact, she didn’t even look at them.

“Wallowing in self-pity is unacceptable! This needs to stop right now!” Bethany’s voice cracked out like a whip. “You still have two children who need you!” She paused, and added, almost as an afterthought, “And a husband.”

“And a sister. And a mother. We miss you, Celeste.” Payton’s voice was as soft with sympathy as Bethany’s was hard with reproach.

Payton moved into the room and set the tray down on top of a dresser. She carefully took a seat at the foot of Celeste’s large bed. She picked up the nearest photograph by its corner, not at all surprised to find that it was a picture of Jacob. It’d been taken at a nearby swimming hole. He was maybe fourteen, surrounded by his friends, clearly about to jump into the water. She smiled at the goofy expression on his face. He’d been such a delightful boy. God, she missed him. She couldn’t even imagine how much worse the pain of his loss would be if it had been Jeffry.

Which brought them here. To her poor sister.

Celeste’s eyes were finally focused on her. Touching one of her precious pictures had clearly gotten her attention.

“Be careful with that,” Celeste warned, the words slurred.

Payton’s eyes moved to the mess on the bed. She didn’t think her sister realized the damage she herself was doing to all of the photographs, but that was clearly beside the point. She set the picture down carefully.

“Would you like something to eat?” Payton asked her gently. “Or drink? I brought you water, juice, coffee, toast. Or if you don’t want that, then maybe you’ll let me help you get dressed, and we’ll go downstairs for lunch? Or is it dinner?” she asked no one in particular, forging on. “Lacey’s gone to grab some things from the store for us. I’ll make you anything you want. A solid meal will help, I promise.”

“I’m not hungry,” Celeste said dully. Her eyes moved briefly to the bottle by the bed. “Or thirsty.”

Bethany had clearly had it. She moved closer to the bed. “Enough is enough, Celeste! You need to snap out of this! Get out of that bed right this minute!”

Celeste didn’t even seem to hear her. She was back to her pictures.

“Come on,” Payton told her, careful to keep her tone steady and patient. “Why don’t you get up, and I’ll brush your hair? And I’m sure a cup of coffee will do you wonders. It’s just how you like.”

Celeste just shook her head.

“Celeste! You heard your sister.”

“No,” Celeste said, her voice empty and final, but she still didn’t so much as glance at Bethany. “No. Just leave me alone.”

Clearly, Celeste wasn’t going to listen.

“I don’t know else to do.” Payton sighed as she and her mother walked back down the stairs. “Nothing we said or did seems to have gotten through. It’s like she’s just given up.”

“I had no idea she was this despondent,” Bethany said. “It breaks my heart to see her like this. Unfortunately, I don’t know what else we can do.”

“Finding Travis might be a good start.” They walked into the usually cheerful kitchen, but somehow without her sister, the place seemed cold and empty.

“I wish your father were still alive,” her mother said. “He’d know what to do.”

Payton reached for her mother’s hands. “We’ll figure something out.” They stood for a moment just holding on to each other and then said their good-byes.

Payton lingered in the kitchen for a time after her mother left. She was waiting for Lacey to return from the store, but her niece was taking her sweet time.

She smiled to herself.
Teenagers
.

Frankly, Payton hoped that something fun had caught Lacey’s attention. Any kind of a distraction would be a welcome relief.  Her niece had also been hit hard by Jacob’s death.

She tried twice more to get her sister to speak to her with no success, and when, after another hour, she found Celeste asleep, she left, her heart breaking over her sister’s condition.

When she found herself knocking on Francine’s door, she didn’t even remember making the decision to come by. It’d been an instinctual move. She needed advice, but more than that, she sought comfort, and her friend had become the best remedy for that.

Francine let her in, and they both headed straight for the kitchen. The other woman poured her a glass of wine, anticipating Payton’s need without her even having to ask.

She took the drink gratefully, and they smiled at each other.

“Tough day?” Francine asked. She always seemed to know.

Payton nodded.

“Come on. Let’s go sit on the sofa. You can tell me about it.”

They sat hip to hip as Payton unloaded on her friend. Francine was the only person in her life that she felt she could share everything with. Every opinion and every burden. By the time she’d gotten all of it out, her head was resting on the other woman’s shoulder. Payton’s free hand was engulfed in both of Francine’s, and her friend was rubbing it soothingly, massaging her palm, working gently at each finger.

Her glass of wine was nearly gone. “Can I get you another?” Francine asked.

Payton was tempted to say yes, but she already felt just a little too uninhibited. “No, thank you. This was perfect. Thank you for listening.”

“Always. I mean that. And as for your sister, I think you just need to keep trying. Don’t give up on her. Everyone deals with grief differently, some better than others, and as long as she knows you’re there for her, I think she’ll come around when she’s ready.”

“I hope so. All of this is so hard. I’m also worried about Travis. He’s withdrawn just as much into his work as Celeste has into herself.” She paused. “This is just the sort of thing that can fracture a marriage, and if you want my opinion, I think they were already on shaky ground to begin with.”

Payton felt Francine’s body move as she let out a big sigh. She entwined their fingers together. “You may be right. But all you can do is be there for your sister. The rest is up to them.”

“What would I do without you, Francine?” Payton asked softly. This woman had become so essential to her that she honestly didn’t want to contemplate the possibility.