be well,” I told her, but she couldn’t hear me with so many distractions.
When I left heaven I had a clear plan as to how I would help Jenny. In the same way that I had guided my hosts with an invisible touch on the arm, keeping them from stumbling on an unnoticed stone in their path, I planned to lay my hand on Jenny’s shoulder when she was faced with Billy Blake and turn her from him. After all, it was James and I who had been in love, not Billy and Jenny. She should feel no obligation.
When Jenny’s mother treated her with harshness I imagined I would sit between them, holding each by the hand, and act as the conduit for love as I had with my Poet and his dying brother. And if Jenny’s father were to reappear and throw hurtful words, I would stand like a shield in his face and dampen his wickedness as I had when my Knight was confronted by an angry colleague. And if Jenny found the consequences of my time in her life kept her from sleep, I would sit on the foot of her bed and sing to her, or recite verse, as I did when banishing the nightmares of my Playwright.
But what I had forgotten was that those moments with my hosts were the exceptions. It was a rare thing to affect the realm of the Quick.
Cathy’s voice quavered. “Well, tell your mother for me that it’s impossible for your brother and my daughter to continue seeing each other.”
“Tell her yourself. She’s at St. Jude’s Hospital, but she hasn’t said a word in five years.” Mitch enjoyed her surprise. “Or, my dad’s in the county prison. Or you could mind your damn business.”
Cathy took a flustered step backwards, bumping into the car. “Watch your language in front of my child.”
“Fuck you, lady.” Mitch grabbed Billy by the sleeve and pulled him toward their car.
Cathy hurried back into the driver’s seat, white in the face. The car accelerated, then left the driveway at an odd angle, scouring the tailpipe on the curb.
“Billy wants to help,” said Jenny. “He tried to save me.”
Cathy was breathing too fast. She sat with her shoulders high and tight. She should have at least tried to put on a calm front for her daughter’s sake. But Cathy offered not one word of reassurance. I had planned to draw them closer, and I could have sat between them now and taken their hands, but I didn’t want to touch Cathy. It angered me that she offered Jenny no sympathy. I didn’t want to try to make Cathy a better mother. I wanted to comfort Jenny myself. Someone had to protect the girl.
Even though she might not hear, I leaned forward and whispered to the back of Jenny’s head of gold hair, “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”
“Why wouldn’t you open the door?” Cathy asked her.
“The door?” said Jenny. “You mean the bathroom door?”
“Yes, the bathroom door!” Cathy, who hadn’t fastened her safety belt, now tried to force the strap over her chest, but it had locked in place.
“I don’t know.” Jenny peered into the back seat, looking through me. “Maybe I didn’t want to get out of the tub.” Then she asked, “Who else was at the house?”
“What?” Cathy glanced at her. “You mean Billy’s brother?”
“No,” said Jenny. “Wasn’t there someone else in the bathroom?”
CHAPTER 9
Helen
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” said Cathy.
A queer tremor rippled through me. I was the someone who had been in the bathroom with them, standing beside the tub.
“Other than that boy?” Cathy asked.
Jenny caught sight of something outside the car—she pivoted in her seat. I wondered what had captured her attention. We passed store window displays filled with autumn leaves and the silhouettes of crows.
“Why are there pumpkins everywhere?” she asked.
I didn’t know exactly how long Jenny had been away from her body before I entered it, but I knew it must be unsettling to be thrown blindly back into her life. If she could have seen me, I would have smiled at her, because her mother’s expression was far from soothing.
“What is wrong with you?” Cathy demanded. “How many pills did you really take?”
Jenny stared at her mother as if something was missing—I could see it in her blue eyes and feel it in the trembling of her narrow shoulders. She was afraid.
“Mom?” Jenny asked. “Where’s Daddy?”
Cathy started weeping as she drove. “He’s probably at her house.”
“Whose house?”
But Cathy