Galilee Rising(30)

My phone buzzes and I check it, smiling when I see who it's from. Jem's text reads, "How's it going?" At lunch yesterday I mentioned how nervous I was about this lunch. He's so sweet for checking on me. I type back, "Not here yet. Fine. Will call later." As I put the phone away, I spot a familiar face.

Lucy Helms has barely changed since I first saw her poking her head out of that limo, telling her nephew to get back in and leave me to die on that bridge. She was just worried I'd take him over with me. She's still stick thin, with a sharp nose, cheekbones, and brown eyes. Her more salt than pepper hair is shorn in a pixie cut. She doesn't smile when she sees me. "Hello, Lucy."

The maître pulls out her chair, and she sits. "Joanna."

"Thank you for meeting me. You look great."

"As do you. Much improved."

"Thank you. I feel good."

We order drinks and lunch, and the waiter leaves.

"So, how did the meeting with Sen. Dumphy go? Will he propose the amendment?"

"Yes. We were very persuasive. The Ward and areas like it could use more free clinics, that's for sure."

She stares at me for a second. "You have become quite the deft power player, Joanna."

I shrug. "A lot of it's common sense and hiring the right people. Half the time I just wing it. I don't know what the hell Justin was thinking giving me the company."

"He thought you were up to the task. Someone had to carry the torch, and he knew you'd rather die than let it extinguish."

I gaze down. "I almost did."

"But you licked your wounds, picked yourself up, and kept carrying on. Have you stumbled since?"

"No."

"Then it's over. No use beating yourself up about it. It's wasted energy."

She always cuts to the quick. I like that in a person. We sit across from each other in silence for a few seconds before I work up the courage to say, "I know I told you this already, but…thank you. For kicking my ass, for taking me to that place, for putting up with that therapy session, all of it. You didn't have to--"

"Of course I did," she cuts in, sounding offended. "I've invested too much time and energy in you to let you drink it all away during some pity party. Besides…we're family. He would never forgive me if I let something happen to you."

We let those words hang between us like a hangman's noose. I gaze down again, and she glances around the room anywhere but at me. "It'll be a year next week," I say.

"I know."

"Mayor Miracle organized a rally in the park. They're unveiling a statue, and I'm supposed to give a speech," I say, rolling my eyes. "I don't have a clue what to say. 'Look how much the town has gone to hell since he sacrificed himself for me. Sorry, my bad?'"

Her thin lips purse with disapproval. "If this lunch is going to turn maudlin, I'm leaving. I don't want to hear about your misplaced shame. He loved you. He did what he had to to protect you. And I doubt if he was presented the situation over again, he would make a different choice."

The waiter returns with our salads and leaves. Like a chastised child, I pout and pick at my food. "I keep dreaming about him."

She stops eating. "And I definitely don't want to hear about that."

My eyes narrow. "Nothing sexual. We just talk. He always seems so…happy. He says he's proud of me a lot." I set my fork down. "Jesus Christ, even when he's dead I need his approval. How fucked up is that?"

"He may not have always liked your choices, but he was always proud of you. Even now. As am I."

"Thank you," I say, humbled.

She clears her throat. "Now, may we please change the topic? This lunch has become far too gloomy for comfort. What else have you been up to besides communing with the dead?"

I fill her in on the latest business deals, gossip and scandals in Galilee. That last one takes awhile. She tells me about her volunteer work at the National Museum and new girlfriend, Amelia. "Ernest Miracle must be kissing the Triumvirate's feet for arriving two months before the election," Lucy says. "I heard that crime went down two percent in a month."

"That's what the paper says."

"I heard what happened at the Historical Society."

"Yeah, thank God Liberty showed up when she did," I say.

"So you approve of supers now? My, what a difference a year makes."

I start picking at my food. "Actually, I'm, uh…working with them."

Her fork stops midway to her lips. "I'm sorry?"

"They just appeared one night wanting to use the computer. Justin must have told them where to find it. I offered to help, and after some persuasion, they agreed."