angry at Missy for not believing her about Lester Shaub; angry at Kim for kicking her out of her cushy au pair gig, for tattling to Jo about that sugardaddy website, and for taking Missy’s side; angry at Jo for a list of sins too long for Jo to even remember most of the time. Leaving Dave, that was one, even though Dave had been the one who’d left her. Leaving their neighborhood—again, Dave’s fault, but Lila couldn’t see it. Finding Shelley and making a life with her. Jo would have to own that one. Not taking Lila’s side against her sisters; not letting her live at home indefinitely, not giving her money, or the car keys when she asked, kicking her out when Shelley discovered that Lila had swiped the Percocet that Jo had been prescribed after her mastectomy. “Who does that?” Shelley had demanded, and Lila had pouted, standing hipshot at the front door, and said, “Someone who figured out she can sell them for twenty bucks apiece.” Lila was angry, and if Lila did not want to be found, there’d be no finding her. Jo had prayed that her sister’s money and connection to her youngest daughter could work some magic, and that she’d be able to say goodbye to Lila, to send her on her way with some advice, or at least the knowledge that her mother loved her and always had. She was leaving Lila her estate, such as it was, the money she’d saved and the money she’d invested over the years. Kim and Missy would administer the trust fund. Jo knew that Lila would be furious when she found that out. “I know how to handle money! I don’t need a babysitter!” Jo could hear her shriek, but handing her youngest daughter a pile of cash, all at once, would surely end in disaster.
Lila swept across the floor, tall and glamorous, smelling like perfume and strong mouthwash, as if no more than a week had elapsed since they’d last seen each other, as if Lila had spent the last weeks and months taking Jo to her doctors’ appointments and visiting her in the hospital, rubbing her back and moving the heating pads and offering her sips of water from the bendy straw, as devoted a daughter as Jo could wish.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, bending down to kiss Jo’s cheek, and, finally, Jo started to cry.
* * *
“So what do you think?” It was nine o’clock at night. Outside, the Atlanta sky was dark velvet. Jo could hear crickets chirping and cicadas humming, and the faint murmur of the air conditioner that kept the temperature bearable.
“About what?” Her voice was slow and slurred.
“Your youngest.” Shelley had climbed into bed with Jo, had tucked her body around Jo’s, and was holding Jo’s hand. “You know there’s something going on.”
“I’m just glad she’s here.” Jo knew that Shelley was right. There was always some drama with Lila, and this would be no exception, but Jo had just taken one of her pills. Her body felt deliciously ethereal; the world and its troubles seemed very far away. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.”
“You mean when it’ll make the most impact,” Shelley said.
“Or then.” Jo adjusted herself against the warmth of Shelley’s body. “I’ll bet you’re glad that you didn’t have kids.”
Shelley gave a dramatic shudder. “Yours have been plenty, thank you very much.” Smiling, Jo squeezed her beloved’s hands.
“Whatever it is, we’ll manage it,” Shelley said. “Me, and the girls, and your sister.”
Jo nodded. She was tired, so tired, and soon she’d be beyond help and beyond care. All she could do now was hope. She hoped that Kim would stop hating herself for leaving her husband, for wanting to be free. She hoped that Matt would be a good father to his girls. She hoped that Melissa would forgive herself. She hoped that Lila would find her way, somehow. She hoped that things had changed, but she knew that they hadn’t changed enough. All the demonstrations, all the consciousness-raising, all the protests, all the pickets, all the books she’d read, all the conversations she’d had, all the ballots she’d cast, all the work and here they were, still.
The door opened, admitting a spill of warm light onto the floor. Lila, barefoot, bare-legged, dressed in a T-shirt, with her face scrubbed clean and her hair pulled up in a messy topknot on her head, came traipsing into the room. Without a word, she padded across the carpet