The pounding on the door came at 4:17 in the morning, just a few minutes before Krista was supposed to be getting up for work. It jolted the three women awake like the shock of ice water in the face. Charley was the first to get to the door and ask who was there, even though all she had was one flimsy hook-lock on the screen to keep the bad guys out. “Sheriff Tom Doherty. Is this the Berkey-Hempstead residence?”
“Yes,” Charley answered. “Who are you looking for?”
“Well, anyone who might know the Griffin girls—Bobbi and Trude Griffin? There’s been an accident. A pretty bad one.”
With that Charley swung open the door to find it really was the sheriff and he’d been telling the awful truth.
Charley got just the briefest information about what had happened. Bobbi and Trude had taken Hope’s Mercedes and headed for the Twin Cities. To what purpose was as yet unclear. Out for a spin? Hoping to get in a little party time while their mother slept? Running away? If it was Charley, she’d have been running from that crazy mother. Hell, it had been Charley and she had run away. Sort of. She chose the college as far as she could get from Louise and had to be forced to return for holidays.
Bobbi and Trude hadn’t gotten far. They were just south of Brainerd, entering I-10 South, when a drunk driver traveling in the wrong direction on the interstate hit them head-on. They’d probably be dead if not for seat belts, airbags and the fact Hope’s six-year-old Mercedes was built like a brick shithouse. Even so, Bobbi, the driver, had a possible head injury, possible internal injuries and had been flown by medical helicopter to the county trauma hospital in Saint Paul. Trude, banged up pretty good but not as seriously, had been taken to Brainerd’s sixty-bed Saint Catherine’s. The sheriff said that probably the worst of it for Trude was her hysteria over her sister, who had been taken to a different hospital. She’d had to be sedated.
As the women absorbed the news, Hope was useless. Either she was listening and completely unresponsive or she wasn’t listening at all. They really should have named her Hopeless, Charley thought.
“They need to be together,” Krista said immediately. “Anyone can see how they depend on each other, how they seem to be all they really have. Their father is too busy for them and their mother is crackers.”
“I could pick Trude up at the hospital, if they’ll release her, and take her with us to Saint Paul,” Charley said, thinking out loud.
“I’m no doctor,” the sheriff said, “but it’s my guess she’s not leaving the hospital right now unless it’s AMA.”
“AMA?” Krista asked.
“Against medical advice,” Meg said. “But we can get a doctor to have her transferred to Saint Paul. Hope and Frank are rich—it shouldn’t be a problem even if the insurance won’t cover it.”
Charley flew into action, taking charge in the way she knew best. Networking and giving orders and asking favors. She told Meg to call John. He was on staff at the trauma hospital where Bobbi had been taken. John would do anything for Megan; he’d lasso the moon for her. One call from Meg to John started the ball rolling before anyone even left the lake house to head to Saint Paul. John would make it to the hospital right behind the emergency helicopter. Then he would phone Saint Catherine’s and instruct them to transport his other patient, Trude Griffin. In the interim, Charley called Frank. She tried to get Hope to do it but she could barely come up with the phone number. Hope was trembling, panicked, twittering and asking a million questions, very few of which seemed to have anything to do with the accident.
“It’s too soon to even get the emergency room to grade the injuries,” Charley told Frank. “But my brother-in-law is a doctor and has gone to the hospital to look after them and I’ll be taking Hope there shortly. All I know is that Bobbi was driving, and she was unconscious when she was airlifted. Trude is banged up but not hurt badly, they say, but is hysterical about her sister’s injuries, so my brother-in-law is having her transported to the same hospital. John is a pediatrician with lots of pull in the ER and hell of a great guy besides. His name is Dr. John Crane and he’s expecting to hear from you.” She rattled off the phone number.
“What the hell were they doing out driving in the middle of the night?” Frank asked.
“No one knows. You don’t suppose... Could they have been running away?”
“Oh, Jesus.” He sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t have made them go. I was so optimistic.”
“Optimistic about what?” Charley asked. They hadn’t seemed particularly happy to be there, but forced?
“It’s complicated. I’m coming out immediately. Tell the girls to stay calm. I’ll explain when I get there. How’s Hope?”
Now it was Charley’s turn to sigh deeply. “Not good, Frank. She doesn’t seem to have much aptitude for crisis.”
He laughed into the phone but Charley could tell it was not from humor. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can. Meanwhile, see if you can keep her away from the girls. I imagine their stress and anxiety is enough without their mother’s...well...just keep her away from the girls for now.”
“If I can,” Charley said. She noticed that through all the bad news and planning and networking, Hope walked around in circles, twisting her hands and muttering. She let Charley, Meg, Krista and the sheriff make phone calls and decisions. Eventually Hope was told to get dressed if she wanted to go with Charley to the hospital. It turned out she was pretty good at taking instruction. Charley wondered if she was on something—some kind of tranquilizers or something—she was so out of it.
Charley had a fleeting thought—Louise was always complaining that Josephine was completely incompetent. Compared to Hope, Jo looked like she could run Ford Motor Company. But having to put up with bullshit behavior like this? If that’s what Louise had to deal with with Jo, it could certainly be fodder for a feud.
There was only the one car now—Charley’s. Krista and Meg would stay at the lake together while Charley did what only a saint would do—put Hope in the car to take her to the city. And almost immediately she yelled at her to shut up.
“Now look, I don’t really care how crazy you are, Hope. You are not going to mutter and whine all the way to Saint Paul. If you do, I’ll pull over and shove you out and leave you by the road.”
“I wasn’t talking. I was just asking myself a few questions so I can plan, like will Frank be called and will he come and will he tell them we’re married and do they have clothes for the hospital and are they appropriate and—”
“Hope! Shut up!” Her foot tapped the brake as a warning. Only Hope. Her daughter is unconscious and she’s worried whether her clothes for the hospital are the right clothes? Hope quieted. What was this business about Frank telling them they were married? Hope was not silent, but at least she only mumbled absently, like the hum of new tires on coarse asphalt. Good enough.
“Charley?” Hope asked quietly. Meekly. “Do you think they’re alive?”
Charley frowned. It was so strange to have her ask a question like that without any emotion. “They’re very much alive, Hope. John Crane is a wonderful doctor and he’s gone to the emergency room to see what he can do to help. Frank is on his way. For now you should pray. Very quietly so I can drive.”
“I failed them,” she whispered. “I should have planned better. I thought I had everything worked out but I should have planned better.”
Charley just shook her head. She was dreadfully sorry about the accident but she was grateful there would be an opportunity to put Hope back in Frank’s hands. He would have to take them all home. He would surely understand this wasn’t good for Megan.
The sun had risen by the time Charley pulled into the hospital parking lot. She had to wake Hope and pull her along by the hand. It had to be drugs. How else could a mother sleep on the way to the hospital? Once inside the emergency room, Charley found a quiet corner and placed Hope, childlike, on a chair and told her to rest while she found the doctor. Hope did as she was told, curling into herself and closing her eyes. Charley backed away from her suspiciously. When she turned, she ran into John. Literally.
“Oh, God, John! You scared me to death!”
He put his arms around her and hugged her. “Charley, how I hate that this has happened but so glad you were there to take care of things.”
She hugged him back. “You’re so sane. How did someone in our family have such a perfectly normal relationship?”
He laughed. “Nothing about my relationship with Meg has been normal for years. How are you?”
“I was doing real well until I was reunited with my cousin Hope.” She jutted her chin over her shoulder toward the sleeping woman. “This was all Megan’s idea, you know. Opening up the lake house, having the family get together.”
He got a sentimental smile. “Why not? She never liked the status quo. How’d she hold up through this crisis?”
“Like a rock. She’s doing okay, I think. Krista will take good care of her while I’m away. Meg maintains a great sense of humor if you have a strong stomach.”
“Yeah, the death jokes.”
She shrugged. She couldn’t talk about that now. “Tell me about the girls.”
“Bobbi Griffin, sixteen, the driver, has a concussion and they want to observe her for a while, but she looks to be okay. Doesn’t appear to have any spinal cord damage but the orthopedic surgeon is looking at her now. She’s had an MRI. She’s had some abdominal pain but it was a negative CT. She’s been worried about her sister, but all in all they’re two very lucky little girls. The little one has gone to have her knee wrapped and that’s all. Lucky.” He looked past Charley. “They haven’t asked for their mother.”
“Thank God. Their mother is a nutball.”
“Do you want to see Bobbi?” John asked.
“Oh, yes, I need to. Surrogate Mom, I guess. Their dad is on his way.”
Seeing Bobbi lying there, all that heavy makeup washed off, her blond hair smoothed away from her face, she looked so young, so innocent. Harmless and sweet. It was a reflex that drew Charley’s hand to Bobbi’s brow, touching her. The girl’s eyes fluttered open and Charley smiled reassuringly. “How do you feel?” she asked in a tender, maternal whisper.
“I’m okay,” the girl croaked. “Is Trude okay?”
“She’ll be right back—she’s just having her knee wrapped.”
She struggled to sit up. “I should go with her...”
“No, no,” Charley said, gently pushing her back down. “You can’t get up for a while. You hit your head. You’re lucky to be alive.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “You don’t understand, Aunt Charley. My sister can’t handle anything without me. She’s not very strong...”
Aunt Charley? That stopped her for a second. She wasn’t this girl’s aunt. And the girl wasn’t even friendly enough to have chosen the term out of affection. Hope again? Delusional? Or just a liar?
One thing at a time. “Bobbi, I called your dad. He’s coming immediately. First flight he can get.”
All the stress seemed to flow out of the girl’s body and she lay down with a flomp. “Oh, God,” she whimpered. “Thank you! Thank God. When will he be here?”
“Well, it’ll take a few hours. Your, ah, mother is in the waiting area.”
“Oh, please, I can’t deal with her right now. Please? Tell her I’m too sick or something. Is Pam coming?”
“Pam?”
“My step... My dad’s wife. Pam.”
“Wife?” Charley asked in a soft breath. “Your dad said the situation was complicated, but I don’t think he adequately prepared me. What’s going on?”
Her eyes bubbled with tears. “Can I have some water, please?” she asked.
“Sure. Let me ask.” Charley went outside the drawn curtain, hailed a nurse and fixed Bobbi up with a little glass of water. She fluffed her pillow. Then she smoothed her cool brow again. The girl slowly got a grip so she could attempt an explanation.
“We don’t know what’s wrong with my mom. She won’t get counseling. My dad divorced her five years ago. He hasn’t lived with her in six. He’s remarried and I have a little brother and we live with Dad and Pam...but my mom still pretends to be married to him.”
“Oh, for the love of God! What about those Christmas letters?”
“Those letters are so embarrassing. Up to two years ago she drove all the way across town to our school to volunteer and she’d carry on, talking like we all live together. They had to finally ask her to stop volunteering because she was disruptive. She’d talk about vacations we were never going to take. They almost had to arrest her to get her to stop going to the country club where she and my dad used to be members. She had to get checked out by the shrink or we weren’t even going to have to go there for weekend visits, and the shrink says she knows what’s real and what isn’t, but it doesn’t seem like it. She acts so crazy.”
“Oh, Bobbi...”
“Do you know what it was like driving out here with her? We just can’t do that anymore. Trude can’t take it—she’s too fragile. She’s anorexic, anyone can see that. I think my mother’s craziness made her that way. It gets worse every time we’re with my mother. On the way out here Trude could hardly eat anything. When our mother was throwing out our jeans and stuff, buying us this fancy summer wardrobe that we hated and getting us done over, I thought Trude was going to just lose it. Mom had all these rules we had to follow so none of her sisters would know about Dad or Pam or little Matt...”
“Sisters?” Charley asked.
“You and Aunt Meg. We didn’t even know about Krista. And now I hear there’s another one!”
“Oh, honey, I had no idea. I mean, I could see she was pretty strange, but this is just sounding worse all the time.”
“I can take it. I don’t let her get to me. But Trude just can’t handle it anymore. I don’t care what Dad and the counselor say, Trude needs to not see our mother.”
Charley was devastated by this story. She leaned down and pulled Bobbi into an embrace and held her. “Oh, you poor baby,” she crooned, rocking her. She didn’t even bother to tell her the truth, that Hope was her cousin. It only took seconds before Bobbi was crying softly. So much for her being able to take it. “Were you running away? Is that what you were doing?”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry! I hope I didn’t hurt anyone. I never even saw—”
“It wasn’t your fault, Bobbi. It was a drunk driver. And don’t say you’re sorry for running away. It sounds like you had to!”
“We were just going to go home. We have a credit card for emergencies. We had to, that’s all.”
“Of course you had to!”
“You mean...you understand?”
“Absolutely. And I’ll talk to your father about this when he gets here. I don’t care how busy he is...he has to keep you safe from this lunacy.”
“Charley?” John said from behind her. “I’m sorry to bother you, but could I see you for a moment? She’ll be right back, Bobbi. Okay?”
Charley and Bobbi both nodded and wiped at their eyes. Then she followed John.
“Sorry to pull you away, but this is important.” John held her elbow and escorted her toward the waiting area. He stopped in the doorway and let Charley see for herself.
Hope was perched on the edge of her chair, tilted toward the man next to her, talking in an animated fashion. But the man was sound asleep. He was snoring, and with each out-breath, his dentures moved. He looked to be about ninety and, by his clothing, might be homeless. This had no impact at all on Hope, however. She talked in earnest; she waved her hands for emphasis. Her voice was soft but high-pitched and people were staring at her. Charley crept closer to hear. Just as Hope didn’t seem to realize the man was sleeping, she was oblivious to the fact that other people were listening.
“We’ve actually had the house on the Cape since Trude was about three years old, but sometimes we don’t see it for a year. I’d like to spend June and July, but Franklin is just too busy. And if he has business in London or Paris while the girls are on summer hiatus, I like going along, take the opportunity to shop, see a few plays. It’s good for the girls, don’t you think? But no, we’d never rent out the house on the Cape! Not any more than we’d rent out our own home while we’re abroad! I couldn’t bear to have strangers in my house! This summer we aren’t going to the Cape at all, of course, because we’re having our summer at the lake house, just like I did when I was a girl. I don’t know when to expect Franklin. He’s been quite tied up. That’s the price—he’s a senior partner—men in power, you know, have a nasty habit of forgetting they have a family sometimes. But don’t even get me started on that! Fortunately, I have many friends who share that lot in life, women married to powerful, wealthy men. I meet most of them at the club. Some I’ve become close to through my charity work in the city...”
Charley was mesmerized by this speech Hope was giving to a passed-out bum. She gaped and couldn’t seem to look away. After a while she felt someone tugging on her elbow and she allowed John to pull her away. Charley, unlike Hope, was speechless.
“I’ve called for a psych consult, Charley. She doesn’t seem to be causing any real problems at the moment. We’ll keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t wander off.”
“John, what the hell is all that?”
“Not my bag actually, but she’s definitely out of reality. Could she be bipolar?”
“Hell if I know. John, she sounded just like that at dinner last night! It’s all fabricated, Bobbi tells me. All that business about her vacations with her husband and children? Her houses? Her clubs and charities? According to Bobbi none of it is true. She hasn’t been married to their father for years!”
John raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly. “I’ve heard of people not adjusting to the divorce, but that’s a little extreme.”
“She’s been a little like that all her life. One of her sisters attempted suicide and another was locked up in juvenile detention and Hope wondered if lavender would be too springlike a color for the winter formal.” She shook her head. “I had my own problems. I never had the time to think of her as crazy. We all had our own problems. In fact, at the time, her behavior was the least crazy.”
“Not anymore,” he said.
“I’ve got to stay with Bobbi,” Charley said. “I need to talk to her. Can we get her out of emergency soon?”
“As soon as the orthopod clears her. We’ll see if we can find a semiprivate room for the girls. But, Charley, don’t wear the kid out.”
Slightly distracted, Charley ran a hand through her hair. “She thinks I’m her aunt! I’ve got to try to explain our family to her.”
“Jesus, on top of a head injury?” John said. “If she didn’t see stars before...”
“Oh, that’s right. You’ve met my family.”
* * *
By noon Frank Griffin had arrived and the girls were together in a semiprivate room. And Franklin was a complete surprise. He was a youthful and fit forty-five. Though his hair was thin up top, he wore a six-inch ponytail. He was tanned and healthy looking as if he spent a great deal of time outside. After he assured himself that his daughters were all right, he impetuously embraced Charley and squeezed her until she squeaked. When he let go of her he had grateful tears in his eyes.
Hope had prepared Charley for a distracted, insensitive business executive. A picture of a starched white shirt, double chins, abrupt and dismissive behavior came to mind. A man without time for his family—hadn’t she said so? Not true of this Franklin, who preferred to be called Frank. He was sweet, relaxed, casual and attractive. And he wasn’t a business executive.
“Oh, I was. A CPA and vice president of finance for a small but very successful investment firm. I left that job years ago for a quieter, more manageable life as a shop owner. That’s how I met my wife, Pam, also an escaped executive who was tired of the rat race and wanted to have a baby. We’re dropouts. We sell bikes, and also have a large add-on to the store where we sell imported tea, herbs, vitamins and natural supplements.”
“You’re kidding!”
“We’re cyclists. Long-distance riders. I left the job before I left the marriage and I think that’s what did it to Hope, put her over the edge. She’s been like this for years now. Somewhere along the way I must have hurt her very deeply...”
“Hope has been like this since she was a teenager,” Charley said. “If she didn’t like the way things were, she invented something she liked better. And right now I suppose she’s making up a life for a psychiatrist. She’s been escorted to the psych ward.”
“Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head.
After a long afternoon in the hospital, Charley and Frank retired to a restaurant for a badly needed bottle of wine and food. They had permission from Bobbi and Trude—two tired and relieved little girls in possession of their father’s cell phone number if they needed him.
“What makes you think it was your doing?” Charley asked.
He shook his head sadly. “She barely resembles the sweet young woman I married. She was so filled with good intentions. She tried so hard to please my mother, to get her approval. It was impossible but Hope never seemed to understand it had nothing to do with her. My mother was an old snob. No one in the family ever took her seriously. There are only two or three people on the East Coast she truly admired.” He shook his head and laughed. “Hope was so determined. She was going to do everything the Griffin way! She would make us the toast of Philadelphia. I broke her heart when I told her nothing could make me more miserable.”
“Oh, Frank...”
“I finally couldn’t take any more of it. My God, her lists alone were enough to drive me mad. If I’d wanted to marry my mother, I could have chosen from a parade of Philly girls already picked out for me. When we divorced, no matter how many times I told her it was because that uppity lifestyle just made me unhappy, Hope never believed me. She always thought I left her because she just hadn’t done it well enough. There was just no—”
“Frank, it wasn’t you,” Charley said.
“It was mostly pretense with my mother, too, God rest her. My sisters and I, we were usually amused by Mother’s efforts to be...well... We were amused when we weren’t pissed off. Our family has some money from a good furniture business that my father and uncle built plus some clever investments. If you bought land a few generations ago, urban growth being what it is, there was money to be made. But Hope could never quite get that straight, that my mother was just a wannabe rich matron who was born to a farmer. She told people her ancestors came over on the Mayflower. It was rubbish.”
“But, Frank, this has been going on with Hope for years, since she was about fifteen. She moved in with our grandparents about then and pretended they were her parents because they were rich and socially prominent.”
Charley put her hand on Frank’s arm. “Your girls haven’t met their grandmother, Hope’s mother. They’ve only met their great-grandmother. Their grandmother, Josephine, lives a very simple, low-key existence and manages a flower shop. She’s one of the kindest, loveliest people I know. And I’m not Hope’s sister, I’m her cousin. Her sister Krista was just released from prison. Hope had some notion she was coming home to get an inheritance... There’s no inheritance. I could go on but you’d need a chart.”
Frank stared at Charley in disbelief.
“We’ve got some catching up to do,” Charley said. “I hope you’re going to be around for a couple of days. For the girls’ sake, you should hear the reality of our family. They deserve a shot at a normal, healthy life and part of that depends on them understanding their roots. Denial doesn’t make sense anymore.”
“Spoken like a true talk show host.”
“Canceled talk show host. Right now I’m just on the mop and bucket detail...”
“Which means?”
“Cleanup crew. Looks like we’ve got three or four generations to tidy up before summer’s over. And I just can’t imagine how that’s going to be done while keeping Meg’s health as the priority.” She took a deep breath. “I’m tempted to shut the whole thing down right where it is. Krista and I can take care of Meg. But Hope needs more help than we can give.”
“You can count on me,” he said, pouring the last of the wine into Charley’s glass. “She’s the mother of my children. I have responsibility there.”
She smiled at him as she covered his hand with hers. “I’m sorry we never got to know each other, Frank. You’re a good guy.”