Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Home Tears

Tijan


  me because I know all the other secrets. What’s a few more?”

  “I barfed.”

  Dani closed her eyes as he kissed her cheek, her jaw. He avoided any area close to her mouth, though. “That’s not a secret. You’re drunk, and I’m going to put you to bed after we drop Kate off. You’re going to sleep it off, and you’re going to hurt so much tomorrow that you won’t want to move.”

  “Sounds heavenly.”

  “I’ll bring you hangover food tomorrow.”

  “Ugh. Food. No.” Dani lurched forward. Jonah let her go. When she was done, he helped her back into the car. She murmured once they were on their way again, “Jonah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m messed up when it comes to guys.” It needed to be painted on a billboard.

  Jonah took her hand and entwined their fingers. “You’ve just got some of the puzzle pieces messed up. That’s all.”

  “I mean…I can’t…” She fell silent. The words escaped her.

  “I’m not asking, Dani.”

  “Okay.”

  She fell asleep like that, still holding his hand.

  Dani woke, gagged, and immediately covered her face with a pillow. Her entire body felt like it’d been rubbed raw against a tree. Her throat had digested the bark. Beside her, she heard a low chuckle as Jonah turned and pulled her against his side. He hid his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder.

  “Not funny,” Dani rasped out into the pillow.

  “It is.” Jonah lifted the pillow away and grabbed Dani’s hand as she tried to cover herself. He lifted his head and grinned down at her. “Aren’t hangovers the best?”

  Dani curled away from him and hugged her pillow.

  Jonah fitted himself behind her, entangling his legs with hers, and leaned over so his face was beside hers.

  Dani’s breath escaped her as Jonah’s body blanketed her.

  “Aren’t they?”

  “You suck.” Dani breathed on him, letting him have the full force of her hangover breath.

  Jonah laughed. “I brushed your teeth last night so good try.”

  “What time is it?” She looked. Seven thirty in the morning. “What time did we go to bed?”

  “Around three.”

  Dani groaned and tried to pull her blanket over her. Jonah blocked her efforts and tucked her underneath him. She was captivated by the spark in his eyes. It was instant, and just like that, one look from him, and she felt like sunlight fell over her, warming her from the inside out. Startled by her reaction, she blinked a few times as he moved to straddle her. He braced himself with an arm on each side and looked down at her.

  “What are you doing?” She felt the tingles starting. Her fingers enclosed over his as he touched one of her hips. It was an inviting touch. Dani held his eyes. He was asking for permission, and just like that again, one touch and her insides were engulfed with longing.

  She wanted him.

  She nodded, so slight, but it was enough. He bent down and pressed his lips to her stomach.

  Dani closed her eyes.

  Jonah lifted her shirt and pressed a second kiss to her flat stomach. Then he shifted so he lay between her legs. He glanced up, held her eyes, and lifted underneath her waist to fit her against him.

  Her heart was thumping hard, pressing against her chest, and she bit down on her lip. She had woken in pain, but with a few touches he took over her body. She was in a different pain, but she was waiting. She was anticipating. She wanted him to do more.

  She couldn’t wait.

  And she sighed, surrendering to what would happen. It felt right, and she didn’t think about it. She answered his body’s urgings because her own was switched to autopilot. She wasn’t going to think of the ramifications, consequences, or what-ifs. She let her body take over. Shutting everything off, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “Dani,” Jonah murmured. So soft. She heard his own aching, and then he was pushing her shirt the rest of the way. She sat up, letting him slip it off. They both paused, suspended in the air, chest-to-chest, face-to-face. It was just the two of them, and whatever was happening between them. Then he dipped his head to take her lips in a soft kiss. They paused again, their lips on each other’s, and she felt he was asking for permission once again. A groan came from her, and it was enough. His tongue swept in.

  Yes.

  Dani laid her arms on his shoulders, falling back to the bed as his hand helped guide her. She pulled him with her. Then he was kissing her neck, the corner of her eye, her lips again. Jonah was weaving a spell only her body could answer. His fingers swept around her breast as another caressed her leg.

  Heated sensations speared through her, all the way to her little toes. They curled, and she gasped, just wanting more. The aches and pains vanished. A throbbing replaced them, and pleasure had her body writhing. She needed more. Desire like she’d never experienced had her answering his body’s urgings, meeting her lips to his, and demanding her own entry.

  They kissed, caressed, and teased each other until finally the ache was too much for both of them. Time stood still for a moment, when he paused right before sliding inside. He looked up, poised at her entrance, and her hand tightened over his arm.

  Then he moved inside of her, and she came alive.

  The rhythm built between them. She was blind, turning to him for everything she needed, every touch she wanted, her body feeling an addictive high. She sought his mouth, and he met her. Their mouths fused together as he continued thrusting into her. She trembled, meeting him, answering his strokes with her own. She was right with him. They were riding this moment together, until she arched her back, coming to the edge. She sucked in air, and still Jonah kept going.

  As they climaxed, he pulled her tight against him. She clasped on, and both shuddered as their bodies were feeling the waves crashing over them. Dani sighed and curled into Jonah. He ran his hand up and down her body, a soft and tender caress.

  Nothing was allowed in her mind.

  It was only the two of them, and their pleasure and heat. She moaned, reaching for his hand. Their fingers entwined again, and Jonah laid his arm across her body, one leg rested over hers.

  Her body was humming, and soon her eyelids closed. A peace rested over her. Later, much later, she woke. The bed was empty as she glanced behind her. Jonah’s welcoming weight no longer sheltered her. She yawned, but her body felt alive.

  She felt alive.

  A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, as if she’d been given a secret no one else was worthy to know. Filling a mug, she returned to her bed and pulled the comforter over her. She could still feel him. She wanted to savor that, but her eyes moved to her dresser…

  …to her mother’s picture.

  A conversation came back to her.

  “The asylum. I already told you. A secret to the grave, that was our agreement… St. Francis over in Petersberg. You’ve been visiting her all your life.”

  She remembered Mrs. Bendsfield’s comments.

  Maybe it was time she found out some other secrets.

  She didn’t make a conscious decision, but she was soon dressed and back in her car. She wanted answers, and she was going to get some. She wasn’t going to hide from this part of her life, unlike Boone. She could bask in bed all day, but somehow Jonah had become entwined with her family and her need to find out more answers. Maybe she got an extra amount of strength from Jonah, but she headed to Petersberg and on to St. Francis.

  Three employees sat behind a large counter when she entered the bricked hospital. Her sandals echoed against the tiled flooring, and a middle-aged woman with graying hair and a nametag that said Marge looked up with a pleasant smile. “Good morning. How may I help you?”

  “I’m here to see my grandmother.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Sandra O’Hara.”

  Marge turned to the computer, and a moment later, she murmured, “And your name?”

  “Dani—Danielle
O’Hara.”

  “Right.” She placed a blank nametag onto the counter alongside a black marker. “You need to put your name on here. The staff will know you’re a visitor then. You’ll head straight back down the hall, and at the elevator, you’re going to want to go to the second floor. Phyliss should be at the front desk. She’ll help you from there.”

  “Okay.” She took a breath. Her hands trembled. She didn’t move.

  “Your grandmother’s quite popular around here. This will make her day.”

  Might’ve helped if she had known her grandmother. She didn’t, but Dani dragged in some more air and headed forward. A lady wearing a nametag that said Phyliss smiled at her when she got off on the second floor. A woman was in the corner, hunched over in a seat, and humming. Her eyes, glossy and glazed over, snapped to where Dani was. They didn’t move.

  Phyliss cleared her throat. “Who are you here for, sweetie?”

  “My grandmother. Sandra O’Hara.”

  Phyliss nodded and stood up. “Follow me. I’ll take you to her.”

  The lady was still humming.

  “Um…is she…” But Phyliss was walking away, and Dani followed. She glanced over her shoulder. The woman’s eyes followed her.

  Phyliss said once Dani caught up, “You’ll have to excuse Henrietta. Sandra’s nothing like that one. She just sits and hums. And watches. That’s about it. Sandra’s—well—you’ll see for yourself.”

  They stopped at a closed door, and Phyliss knocked twice. She opened it. “Sandra? You have a visitor.”

  Dani heard something fall inside the room and frowned. There was a quick shuffling on the floor, and Phyliss stepped back. The door opened.

  Sandra O’Hara had the wrinkles that artists loved to capture. Long white hair was pulled into a messy braid, and her eyes were like Dani’s. Almond color. No, Dani had her grandmother’s eyes. For a moment, the two looked and studied each other. Raking each other up and down. Not a word was spoken.

  She was short, like Erica.

  “Who are you?”

  Dani saw intelligence then. She heard it in her voice. Clear and strong. “I’m your granddaughter.” She tried to match it.

  “Which one?”

  “I’m Dani O’Hara. Daniella was my mother. She—”

  “My daughter’s dead. I know that much.” Sandra gestured to Phyliss. “I’ll visit with my granddaughter in the reading room. Can you get Lawrence out of there?”

  Phyliss patted Sandra on the arm. “Of course. Of course.”

  “How’d you know I was here?”

  “I heard you were crazy.”

  Sandra barked out a laugh. “Oh—I’m crazy. Crazy, senile, and old, just not today.” She raised her head to Dani. “You’re my granddaughter. Spitting image of your momma.” She turned and sat in a chair. “Let’s hope you ain’t nothing like your momma.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because she had awful taste in men, that’s what. She died, leaving you young’uns alone. And because she wasn’t alright in the head either. A little cuckoo, and that’s coming from a crazy lady.” Sandra leaned back in her chair. “So, what are you doing here?”

  “I found out about you from Mrs. Bendsfield. I never knew you were alive.”

  Phyliss knocked on the door. “The reading room is open, Sandra. I told the kitchen where you’ll be, and I ordered an extra tray.”

  Sandra heaved a deep breath, standing up. “Come here.” She waved impatiently for Dani to move closer and clasped her arm. “You can help walk me there. Make sure I don’t go face first and break a hip.”

  Dani was looking for the craziness. She was looking for why her grandmother was locked up and never spoken of, but the elder who sat before her was sane, logical, and a little too intelligent.

  She said, “You don’t seem crazy.”

  Sandra snorted and patted her granddaughter’s arm. “I am, girly. I am. You’re just seeing me on a good day. Trust me. These days don’t come by so often. Believe it or not, I’m needed behind these white-ass walls.”

  “You talk like Mae.”

  The smile vanished from Sandra’s face. “Yeah. Guess I do.”

  The reading room was a small library with two coral plush couches on one side. Three bookcases framed the walls with a narrow window above them. In one corner, a light-stained wooden desk stood bare with two moss-green lounging chairs placed before them. The upholstery’s stitches were coming apart at the seams, but Sandra didn’t mind as she dropped down on one of the chairs. She motioned with a brisk hand to the other chair. “Sit.”

  “The couches look more comfortable.”

  Sandra shook her head, a grimace adding more wrinkles to her face. “I can’t get up when I sit on those. I’d rather be able to stand than look like a fool when I break a hip.”

  Dani sat. “I have your eyes. And you’re short like Erica.”

  “She’s the one who died? Philly read me the obituary. She was young, wasn’t she?”

  “She had just turned twenty-two.”

  Sandra clasped her seemingly frail hands together. “I got two daughters who don’t speak to me. The one who did is in the ground. And I used to have three granddaughters who didn’t know I existed. One of them’s already dead.” She laughed to herself. “How is it that the crazy grandmother is outlasting them all?”

  “Why don’t they talk to you? Kathryn never talked about you. Neither did Mae.”

  Sandra studied Dani for a moment. Her eyes seemed to pierce straight through, like her grandmother was trying to read inside of her.

  “Let me guess,” Sandra mused, her lips pursed. “You’re closest to Mae, huh?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Because I know my daughters. And I know how they don’t enjoy each other. You talk to Mae. That means you don’t talk to Kathryn.”

  “I thought my mother got along with Kathryn.” They always had. She could remember Sundays spent together. Holidays. Birthday parties.

  “Nuh huh.” Sandra leaned forward and grabbed a pencil awkwardly. Her hands shook, but she managed to keep a hold on it. “Kathryn, Danny, and Mae hated each other. No, that’s not right. Mae loved Danny, but Danny knew who she could be around and who she couldn’t. Your Aunt Mae was wild back in her day. Too wild, but she never listened to me. Hated me, she did.”

  “But Aunt Kathryn and Momma…”

  “No.” She waved the pencil at her. “Kathy and Danny had two things in common. Presentation. And their taste in men. Their taste in men was awful.” Sandra sounded disgusted. The loose skin under her chin was wiggling as she kept waving the pencil in the air. She nodded to Dani. “I see how you been raised. You been raised like Mae. You look like your momma, but you handle like Mae. Not much Kathryn in you.”

  “Why didn’t I know about you?”

  Her grandmomma lowered the pencil to her lap. “You have to come for a second visit for that one.”

  Dani leaned forward. This grandmother spoke of ‘Danny,’ not ‘Dani.’ Dani knew Mae was careful when she talked about her mother, but they shared the same name. She knew they shared the same nickname, but it felt different coming from this woman. This was almost a stranger, and in a way, Dani hadn’t felt closer to her mother than she did at that moment. She wanted to hear more about ‘Danny.’

  “Why were you kept a secret if my mom came to visit?”

  She snorted. “I’d like to know why your momma stopped coming to visit. I’d like to know what my granddaughters were like. I’d like to know how my daughters are doing, if they’re happy or miserable. I’d even like to know if they’re living on the streets. There’s a whole hell of a lot more that I’d like to know than you, I guarantee that.” She paused, then abruptly asked, “You a drinker?”

  “What?”