Epilogue

Joyce O'Neal Rafferty was in a rush and thoroughly bitched out as she headed into the nursing home. Baby Sean had spent all night throwing up and it had taken three hours of waiting at the pediatrician's before the doctor could squeeze them in. Then Mike had left a message that he was working late, so he didn't have time to go to the supermarket on the way home.

Goddamn it, they had nothing in the refrigerator or the cupboards for dinner.

Joyce hitched Sean up on her hip and raced down the corridor, dodging meal carts and a gang of wheelchairs. At least Sean was asleep now and hadn't thrown up for hours. Dealing with a fussy, sick baby as well as her mother was more than Joyce could handle at once. Especially after a day like today.

She knocked on the door to her mother's room, then went right in. Odell was sitting up in bed, leafing through a Reader's Digest.

"Hey, Mom, how're you feeling?" Joyce went over to the Naugahyde-covered wing chair by the window. As she sat down, the cushion squeaked. And so did Sean as he woke up.

"I'm good." Odell's smile was pleasant. Her eyes vacant as dark marbles.

Joyce checked her watch. She'd stay ten minutes, then hit Star Market on the way home.

"I had a visitor last night."

"Did you, Mom?" And without a doubt, she was going to buy enough for a week straight. "Who was it?"

"Your brother."

"Thomas was here?"

"Butch."

Joyce froze. Then decided her mother was hallucinating. "That's nice, Mom."

"He came when no one was around. After dark. He brought his wife. She's so pretty. He said they're getting married in a church. I mean, they're already husband and wife, but it was in her religion. Funny… I never figured out what she was. Maybe a Lutheran?"

Definitely hallucinating. "That's good."

"He looks like his father now."

"Oh, yeah? I thought he was the only one who didn't take after Daddy."

"His father. Not yours."

Joyce frowned. "I'm sorry?"

Her mother assumed a dreamy expression and looked out the window. "Did I ever tell you about the blizzard of 69?"

"Mom, go back to Butch—"

"We all got stuck at the hospital, us nurses along with the doctors. No one could come or go. I was there for two days. God, your father was so upset about having to care for the kids without me." Abruptly, Odell seemed years younger and sharp as a tack, her eyes clearing. "There was a surgeon there. Oh, he was just so… different from everyone else. He was the chief of surgery. He was very important. He was… beautiful and different and very important. Frightening, too. His eyes, I see them still in my dreams." Just as suddenly, all that enthusiasm evaporated and her mother deflated. "I was bad. I was a bad, bad wife."

"Mom…" Joyce shook her head. "What are you saying?"

Tears started to fall down Odell's lined face. "I went to confession when I got home. I prayed. I prayed so hard. But God punished me for my sins. Even the labor… the labor was terrible with Butch. I nearly died, I bled so badly. All my other births were fine. Not Butch's…"

Joyce squeezed Sean so hard, he started to wriggle in protest. As she loosened her hold and tried to soothe him, she whispered, "Go on. Mom… keep talking."

"Janie's death was my punishment for being unfaithful and carrying another man's child."

As Sean let out a wail, Joyce's head spun with a horrible, terrible suspicion that this was…

Oh, come on, what the hell was she thinking? Her mother was crazy. Not right in the head.

Too bad she looked really frickin' lucid right now.

Odell started nodding as if responding to a question someone had asked. "Oh, yes, I love Butch. Actually, I love him more than any of the rest of my children because he's special. Could never let that show, though. Their father bore too much of what I'd done. To favor Butch in any way would be an insult to Eddie and I couldn't… I won't embarrass my husband like that. Not after he stayed with me."

"Dad knows…?" In the silence that followed, things started falling into place, an ugly puzzle coming together. Shit… this was for real. Of course Dad knew. That was why he hated Butch.

Her mother grew wistful. "Butch looked so happy with his wife. And oh sweet Mary, she's beautiful. They are perfect for each other. She's special like his father was. Like Butch is. They're all so special. It was a shame they couldn't stay. He said… he said he'd come to say good-bye."

As Odell teared up, Joyce reached out and grabbed her mother's arm. "Mom, where did Butch go?"

Her mother glanced down at the hand that touched her. Then frowned a little. "I want a saltine. May I have a saltine?"

"Mom, look at me. Where did he go?" Although why that suddenly seemed important she wasn't sure.

Vacant eyes shifted over. "With cheese. I would like a saltine. With cheese."

"We were talking about Butch… Mom, concentrate."

God, the whole thing was all such a shock and yet no shock at all. Butch had always been different, hadn't he?

"Mom, where is Butch?"

"Butch? Oh, thank you for asking. He's doing so well… he looked so happy. I'm so glad he got married." Her mother blinked. "Who are you, by the way? Are you a nurse? I used to be a nurse…"

For a moment, Joyce almost pressed the issue.

But instead, as her mother kept babbling, she looked out the window and took a deep breath. Odell's mindless prattle suddenly seemed comforting. Yes… the whole thing was all nonsense. Only nonsense.

Let it go, Joyce told herself. Just let it go.

As Sean stopped crying and settled against her, Joyce hugged his warm little body. Amidst the nonsensical ramblings coming from the bed, she thought of how much she loved her baby boy. And always would.

She kissed his soft head. Family, after all, was the staff of life.

The very staff of life.

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