Paradise Lost

We can be back here tomorrow morning whenever you want us to be.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Joanna said. “I’m perfectly capable of sleeping on the couch. And I want to be up and out early, by seven or so.

“Not the couch,” Eva Lou objected. “I won’t hear of it.”

“Me, either,” Jim Bob put in. “Those hide-a-bed things are never comfortable. There’s always that danged metal bar that hits you right in the middle of your ribs.”

Jenny gazed at her mother from under a fringe of long blond eyelashes. “If you want,” she offered quietly, “you can sleep on the bottom bunk, and I’ll sleep on top.”

There was nothing Joanna Brady wanted more right then than to be near her daughter. “Thanks, Jen,” she said. “What a nice offer. I’ll be happy to take you up on it.”

Half an hour later, still warmed by the hot cocoa, Joanna lay in Jenny’s bed, peering up through the glow of the night-light at the dimly visible upper bunk. She was thinking about all that had hap­pened. In a little over twenty-four hours, Jenny had been through a series of terribly traumatic experiences and yet she really did seem fine.

They had both been quiet for such a long time that Joanna assumed Jenny had drifted off.

“Mom? Are you still awake?”

“Yes.”

“You never said anything to me about the cigarettes.”

Butch’s counsel came back to Joanna. What was it he had said? Something about not making a federal case of it. “Should I have?” Joanna asked.

“Well, I mean, you never bawled me out about them or anything. “

“You already apologized to me about the cigarettes,” Joanna said. “Remember last night on the phone? You told me then you were sorry about that. It’s true, isn’t it? You are sorry?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t plan on trying another one anytime soon, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then, I don’t guess there’s any reason to bawl you out.”

 “Oh,” Jenny said. “Well, good night then.”

“Good night.”

Minutes later, Joanna was half asleep when Sadie crept onto the foot of the bed and flopped down between Joanna’s feet and the wall. She had long suspected that Sadie sneaked up onto Jenny’s bed once the bedroom door was safely closed behind them. Care­ful not to waken Jenny, Joanna shooed the dog off, only to have her clamber back on board just as Joanna herself was about to doze off. The third time it happened she gave up. The words Let sleeping dogs lie were drifting through her head as she finally fell asleep.

When Joanna awakened out of a deep sleep hours later, she was briefly disoriented by being in a strange bed and room. Then, gath­ering her faculties, she realized that what had roused her was the tantalizing smell of frying bacon and brewing coffee. The alarm clock on Jenny’s bedside table said six forty-three.

Joanna stumbled out of bed and hurried to the kitchen, where she found both Eva Lou and Jim Bob up and dressed and busily engaged in fixing breakfast. “You two!” she said, shaking her head. “You didn’t need to do this. I could have stopped off for breakfast somewhere along the way.”

Eva Lou looked back at her and smiled. “Yes,” she returned. “You could have, but you shouldn’t have to. Now come sit down and eat something. There’s no sense in waking Jenny this early.”

While Jim Bob left to do one more outside chore, Joanna settled into the breakfast nook.

“Oh, my,” Eva Lou said, as Joanna mowed through her very welcome bacon and eggs. “I forgot to tell you. Olga Ortiz called last night about Yolanda.”