Page 51 of Waves of Time

Because Hilary had told the officers about the door to the crawlspace, they soon found the huge duffel bag the dealers had left, filled with money, along with another bag filled with heroin, meth, coke, and speed. Although the cops looked at all the traffic cameras in the area, Frank had selected a house too far away from anything like that, and they hadn’t been able to come up with any names for potential dealers. Whoever had planned to come out for the bag of drugs had obviously decided to get a different career.

It was difficult for Hilary to merge reality with her past. A part of her was still strangely “excited” about the prospect of having met a handsome man named Frank Wilmington. She didn’t want to believe how horrible life could be, so she’d made up a fictional story in her head.

Rodrick called the day after the arrest, one day before the surgery, to gossip about what he’d heard.

“It’s just terrible, isn’t it, darling?” he said, clearly pleased. “I can’t believe I ever thought you should date that horrible man! Although you have to admit, he had a great sense of style. I imagine he won’t look very good in orange, though. It doesn’t suit his skin tone.”

Hilary laughed at that, grateful for Rodrick’s support on the other side of the continent.

“Rodrick, I have to tell you something,” she finally managed as her laughter died out. “I’m having eye surgery tomorrow. I’ll be out for the count for a little while, which means Aria will complete the rest of your design for you. I trust her completely. You are in capable hands.”

Rodrick was quiet for a moment. Hilary was terrified he was going to get upset, that he was going to say she’d been insincere, that she’d kept this from him on purpose. But instead, he said, “Hilary. I thought we were friends. I wish you would have told me about this. I would have sent you something. A gift. Some flowers. Anything!”

Hilary was touched. Although she’d met Rodrick only in a work context, she’d forgotten a fact she’d always known— that, generally speaking, people were good, and they wanted to care. And they showed this compassion in wonderful ways.

“You just take care of yourself,” Rodrick told her, “and let me know how it goes. I’m happy to send you anything you need.”

“Maybe just a new pair of eyeballs,” Hilary tried to joke, although it fell flat.

“Rest!” Rodrick told her. “And I’ll see you back on the west coast soon. Tell that daughter of yours I think she’s amazing, as well. She’s going to go far in this business. Mark my words.”

Not long after the phone call, the doorbell rang. Unsurprisingly, it was Estelle, who carried in three pre-baked lasagnas, a casserole that just needed to be reheated, and boxes of homemade baked goods. Her eyes were manic and bloodshot, but her voice remained cheerful.

“I’ve been cooking and baking for twenty-four hours straight!” she announced.

“Mom, nobody asked you to do that!” Hilary laughed and took several items from her mother’s arms, then led her into the kitchen, where Aria was flipping through an interior design magazine and making notes.

“Grandma!” Aria jumped up to hug Estelle. “I told you not to make everything.”

Estelle waved her hand. “I was just panicking about the next few days, about whether or not you’d have any time to cook anything with real nutrition in it. And Hilary, you’re going to need real fuel to get well again. You can’t get away with a few salads here and there. Your body needs carbs!”

Estelle stacked the lasagnas and casseroles in the refrigerator and smacked her hands together, clearly pleased with herself. In every way, she would always be a mother. But when she turned back toward Hilary, her eyes were rimmed red, and she looked on the verge of tears.

“Your father and I want to help as much as we can,” Estelle added, her voice wavering. “Anything you need, you ask for it. Okay?” She stepped away from the fridge to grab Hilary’s hand. “Promise me!”

Hilary nodded, although she wasn’t sure what she could possibly need from anyone as she recovered from eye surgery. She would just need peace and quiet.

“I love you, Mom,” is what she said instead, and she swallowed Estelle in a hug. For a moment, she allowed herself to pretend that she was much younger, that the year was 1985, and that she was five years old. Oh, how terrifying yet exhilarating it had been to be five when her mother, her father, and her two siblings had been her entire world. Life had a way of twisting itself into complications.

The doorbell rang, and Hilary pulled herself together and headed back to the foyer, imagining the next arrival to be Sam or her father or Charlie. But when she opened the door, she nearly shrieked when she found Marc standing before her— holding a bouquet of flowers, a California tan covering his face, and wearing a nervous smile, as though he was worried he’d done something wrong.

And as Hilary gazed into Marc’s eyes, heavy with disbelief, she thought she’d never seen a more beautiful sight in her life. If this was her final day of being able to see anything— she was glad she could see Marc.

“Hi,” Hilary breathed.

“Hi.” Marc shrugged and lowered the bouquet. “I hope it’s okay that I came. Aria told me over and over again last week not to, but I just couldn’t stay away. I was too worried.”

“Is that Dad?” Aria rushed to the foyer from the kitchen, then threw her arms around her father, which was something Hilary had wanted to do but had held herself back from. “I told you! I have everything handled!” Aria cried, although you could hear in her voice how pleased she was he’d come.

Marc laughed joyously and blinked back tears. Hilary led them both inside as Aria peppered him with questions about his flight and rental car. As Hilary entered the kitchen with the bouquet of flowers, Estelle’s eyes widened with shock, and she hissed, “What is he doing here?”

But before Hilary could answer, Marc spotted Estelle, opened his arms, and hugged her. “Estelle! It’s been too long. You look wonderful.”

Estelle blushed, her eyes dancing. “Marc! Have you come to look after our girls?”

“I have, indeed,” Marc said.

Hilary’s heart swelled. Over the years, Marc had referred to Hilary and Aria as “his girls,” but it had never felt real until now—when he’d gone out of his way to put them first.

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