Somebody to Love (Gideon's Cove #3)(86)

Mary Elizabeth found this pretty funny, because she stopped twining her fingers and laughed, a big openmouthed laugh that ended in a squeak. “James! That’s your name!”

He smiled and reached up to smooth her curly hair. “Hey, Mary Elizabeth, I brought someone to see you,” James said. “This is my friend, Parker. Parker, my sister.”

Mary Elizabeth looked at her a bit warily.

“Hi, Mary Elizabeth,” Parker said.

“Hi,” she said, glancing back at her brother. The finger twisting began again. “Okay, bye, James’s friend.”

“She’s gonna stay a little while,” James said. “You know the Holy Rollers, right?”

“Duh, James. The Holy Rollers and the Blind Little Bunny. You gave me a Spike doll. He’s the head angel.”

“Well, Parker here, she wrote those books,” James said.

Mary Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “You did?” she breathed. “You wrote those books? You wrote the Holy Rollers books?”

“I did,” Parker said.

The girl’s—woman’s—mouth dropped open, her fingers moving faster now.

“You like those books, right, Mare?” James asked.

“I like those books. I love those books! I have a Spike doll! They live in a tree fort!”

“We saw the movie, Mare. It was great. I’ll take you next week, okay?” James offered.

Mary Elizabeth Cahill had all the Holy Rollers books on a shelf. James had given them to her, she said. For the next hour, Parker fielded the girl’s—woman’s—questions as best she could, agreeing that yes, The Holy Rollers and the Big Mean Bully was the best of all the books, and yes, angel food cake was her favorite dessert, too, but no, she had never had a tree fort.

Throughout the interrogation, Parker kept looking at James, who sat on the window seat, his face neutral as Mary Elizabeth chattered. Occasionally, he made a joke, but mostly he was quiet.

Finally, an aide of some kind knocked on the door. “Sorry to break this up, guys. Mary Elizabeth, it’s time for dinner, hon. James, you and your friend gonna stay?”

James glanced at Parker. “Not this time.”

“I’m starving,” Mary Elizabeth announced. She stood up and looked at Parker. “You’re my best friend now.”

“Thanks, Mare,” James said with an exaggerated sigh. “I thought I was your best friend.”

“You’re my brother. You can’t be best friends with your brother.”

“So true, Mary Elizabeth,” Parker said. “Don’t listen to him—he’s just grumpy.”

Mary Elizabeth seemed to like that. “You’re just grumpy, James,” she repeated. “You’re grumpy.” She looked at Parker, a gleam of conspiratorial delight in her eyes. “I love you, James’s friend,” she added, hugging Parker hard.

“I love you, too,” Parker said. Then Mary Elizabeth detached and hugged her brother. “Bye, James! See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Mare. I love you.” James hugged his sister back, kissed her twice, then waved as she and the aide walked from the room.

“See you tomorrow?” Parker asked.

“She doesn’t really have a sense of time.”

“Oh.”

James stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “Well. Thank you for making her life.” He grinned, but it was a pale imitation of the usual. “Want to take a walk?”

“Sure.”

James clearly knew the place well, and several people, clients and staff alike, said hello, calling him by name. They walked through the campus, down a wide brick pathway to a little garden. There was a fountain in the middle, and two sparrows were taking a bath. The grounds were quieter now, and Parker could smell garlic and roast chicken.

“Food’s pretty good here,” James said, as if he heard her thoughts.

“That’s a plus.”

He was staring at the birds. “The technical term is anoxic brain injury. Deprived of air during a near drowning.”

Parker bit her lip. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

He leaned back, took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. Then he told her the story.

Mary Elizabeth had been a surprise baby—the four Cahill boys had been born within six years of each other, with Mary Elizabeth coming five years after James, the youngest son. She’d been as spoiled as a little girl could be; if one brother failed to obey her command, surely another would. She had them all wrapped, James said. Especially their father, who viewed Mary Elizabeth as a reward for enduring four boys. Her brothers would give her piggybacks, ride her on the handlebars of their bikes, even play princess tea party with her. She was the light of the family, everyone’s favorite.

Then, when James was twelve and Mary Elizabeth was seven, Tommy graduated from high school. The school gave out only four tickets per family, so James volunteered to stay home and babysit. The Terminator was on, and his mother hadn’t let him see it when it was in the theaters. The rest of the family went off to the high school. Mary Elizabeth asked to go swimming; the Cahills lived on a lake, and the kids swam almost every day.

James said no. Gave her some popcorn, made her a fort out of blankets in her bedroom, left her there playing with her dolls. Then he went into the living room and sat in front of the TV.