“She’s got something about her, that’s for sure. At seventeen years old, she told us all that she was gay. Normally you’d think that would shock the parents or that they would try and argue she was too young to know for sure what she wanted. Our parents didn’t even blink. They’d given up trying to control or predict Jane, and were just happy for her in everything she did. Sixteen was the age she graduated high school. In college, she managed to overlap enough electives that she was able to get three undergraduate degrees in five years. And she took maximum hours every semester. She loved knowing things, and the more things the better.” A shadow passed over his face, and Heather noticed.
“What? What happened next?”
“I don’t know. If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say academia got to her. When she got into graduate school, all her professors and contemporaries were telling her how smart she was, particularly for someone so young. I guess all those high-minded folks telling her how great she was finally convinced her. She was still a nice woman and I loved her, but she got a little snobby. It was like she believed her own hype. It didn’t much help that she got two Master’s degrees in three and a half years and her Doctorate in a year and a half. At twenty-six, she had more education than our entire family tree before her. But she didn’t seem to love learning as much. It was more like she was obsessed; that she was competing with the entire world to see who was the smartest.”
“I think she might have won, or at least tied,” joked Heather. That made John smile.
“Maybe. But the fire just wasn’t there anymore. She did her post-doc work and moved on to a professorship. She wrote her first book when she was twenty-nine. It was basically a historical look at the role of conspiracies and how they may or may not have shaped world politics. Her peers loved it. I fell asleep after the first ten pages. What can I say . . . history was never my favorite subject.” He took another sip of coffee. “After that . . . well, she met Michelle. I take it you’ve heard the story from there?”
“Yeah.”
“It was weird. The first time I saw those two together, which was before Jane met Freddie, you could see the difference. She was like a kid again. I actually visited her and saw my sister under her car changing her own oil, dirty as hell and having the time of her life. I always liked Michelle after that. Plus she’s lots of fun to watch football with.” He glanced at Heather. “So, Freddie told me some of the story. How do you fit in to all this.”
Heather told him the story of her journey through Texas with Laurie and Alice, leaving out some of the juicier tidbits. John wasn’t stupid. He’d probably figured out some of it. Heather concentrated on how Jane and Freddie helped her and Laurie get together and Alice’s realization of her sexual identity.
“What is it about that ranch? Is it some kind of gay magnet?” Heather laughed. Just then, Freddie showed up, practically dragging Michelle with her.
“I told you that you need to eat,” the beautiful young woman said to the amazon she was attempting to manhandle. And visiting hours are almost over anyway. Now sit here and I’ll got get us some grub.” Freddie deposited Michelle at the table next to John. John grinned and glanced over at her.
“So, when did you become Freddie’s bitch?” he said.
Michelle sighed. Then she calmly stuck her hand against his arm and shoved him off his chair. Heather laughed harder than she had in a long time as John rubbed his now-sore hip and looked indignant. After a few seconds, even Michelle started to laugh, and laughter got louder when Freddie came back, looking incredibly confused.
———– —————-
The next day . . .
———– —————-
Heather had arrived early Saturday morning. By Monday, Jane’s medications had been reduced enough that she was more awake than she had been before, but she wasn’t too coherent yet. They were still keeping her sedated enough that she didn’t move around too much. She opened her eyes a bit and she was obviously aware of what was going on around her. Her room wasn’t very large, so she was only allotted two visitors at a time. One of her parents was always in the room with her, and all the others were able to cycle through one at a time. Each one of them tried to find something to talk to her about. Michelle told her all the stories that use to make her laugh, like the time when she was a rodeo clown and had the flu. She was hiding in a barrel from a very large bull that tipped the barrel over and rolled it all over the arena’s floor. Michelle had thrown up all over herself and had to be helped out by a handsome young cowboy who was also the recipient of some of Michelle’s vomit. The crowd had laughed a lot.
Freddie had grabbed the book that Jane had been reading while waiting for surgery and read it out loud. Her parents talked about what all the old family friends were up to. John discussed possible investments for her financial portfolio. Heather was watching through the glass, and she was sure that Jane tried to flip John off when he suggested trading what was left of her brain as a commodity on the New York Stock Exchange.
Heather’s turn finally came. She was going to be the last visitor before the hours were up. Her parents were going to be allowed to stay, but everyone else had to go. So Jane’s parents left to get something to eat, leaving the dark-haired nineteen-year-old girl alone with Jane. Heather just stared at her for a moment. She seemed gaunt, but there was some color returning to her cheeks. She wasn’t as deathly still as when Heather had first seen her, but rather appeared to be sleeping. Her head was bandaged, and Heather found herself mourning the loss of Jane’s hair. ‘She had such pretty hair. Oh well,’ she thought, ‘it’ll grow back.’ She didn’t have as much history with the woman as the others did. She started to talk about how things were going with Laurie and what all had happened regarding Alice and Jamie. She left out what she had done to discourage Jamie from going anywhere near Alice in the future. Even if she were unconscious, the elder woman probably wouldn’t have approved. Heather found herself getting a little choked up. About then, Heather saw Michelle standing in the doorway and holding Heather’s guitar case. Apparently she had retrieved it from Heather’s car. Heather took it and opened the case. She took the instrument, making sure it was properly tuned. Heather glanced at Michelle again, whom just smiled and walked away. Heather struggled for a moment as she thought of what to sing. She decided to go with “A Devil and an Angel.” It was the most complete of the original songs that Alice had written. And someone looking at the sleeping forms of people that Alice cared for had written it. It seemed appropriate. It was a slow song, but Heather put what she could into it without disturbing other patients. She finished just as her time was running out, so she put the guitar away. As she was locking it up, she heard something.
“Beautiful.”
Heather’s head shot up. One of Jane’s eyes was open and was looking at her, hard and clear. Jane’s mouth twitched then smiled. Then her eye closed again and Jane was back asleep. Heather got up and crept out of the room. She found herself face to face with the entire extended family, all of who were smiling. Jane’s parents just hugged the breath out of her, then went inside to be with their daughter. She was then gang-hugged by Freddie, Michelle and John. Heather was a bit taken aback by it all. She hadn’t really done anything special.
“So,” said Michelle at last, “who’s up for dinner?”
—————— —————–
Later that week . . .
—————— —————–
The next few days were better. Jane was able to stay awake and coherent for longer periods of time. She also was able to engage in conversation. These discussions were brief, but the doctor’s seemed to feel that there had been no loss of memory of cognitive ability. Jane was still on painkillers and even this little bit of exertion tired her quickly. But she seemed to feel it necessary to remain awake for awhile with each of her visitors. Heather smiled at that. Even with tubes and monitors all around her, Jane had regained a very real and powerful sense of elegance and dignity. She wasn’t a patient anymore. She was a queen holding court, one person at a time. Come Thanksgiving Day itself, all of them wished they could spend more time with her. Strangely, the hospital staff suddenly relented in their insistence on only two visitors at a time, moving Jane to a bigger room so that they could all visit her at once, at least for a while. Jane stayed awake and aware throughout the entire meal, though she still wasn’t up to solid foods herself yet. She complained bitterly and at some length about the banal nature of the concoctions they gave her to drink. Yes, Jane was going to be just fine.
The following day, Heather was in for another surprise. Just before the end of visiting hours, she was standing in the hallway outside Jane’s room when she heard a familiar voice around the corner.
“No . . . not James. Jane. Jane Voorhees. She’s about this tall and very articulate. You’re right, maybe that doesn’t help find her. She’s probably surrounded by a lot of lesbians . . .”
Heather poked her head around the corner. “Laurie?”
There was the blonde bombshell, in the warm, wonderful flesh. “Heather!” she shouted as she strode quickly down the hall and embraced her girlfriend, kissing her long and deep. “Am I too late? Can I still see her? Are you actually wearing lipstick that isn’t black? Red looks good on you . . .”