Roses Are Red

Chapter Seventy-One

I came home very late from the East Capitol Dwellings project. I wasn't feeling too hot about a lot of things: Working too much; Christine; the arrest that night of Mitchell Brand.

I needed to wind down so I played Gershwin and Cole Porter on the piano until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. Then I climbed upstairs. I fell fast asleep as soon as my head collided with the pillow.

I actually slept in the next morning. I finally joined Nana and Damon for breakfast around seven-thirty. This was a big day for the Cross family. I wouldn't even be going into work. I had better things to do.

We left the house at eight-thirty. We were on our way to St. Anthony's Hospital. Jannie was coming home.

She was waiting for us. Jannie was all packed up and dressed in blue jeans and a Concern for the Earth T-shirt when we arrived at her room. Nana had brought her clothes the day before, but of course Jannie had told Nana exactly what to bring.

"Let's go, let's go. I can't wait to get home," she giggled and motor mouthed as soon as we walked in the door. "Here's my suitcase, what's the hurry." She handed her little pink American Tourister to Damon and he rolled his eyes, but took the overnighter from her, anyway.

"How long is this special treatment supposed to last?" he asked.

"Rest of your life." She set her brother straight about men and women. "Maybe even longer than that."

Suddenly, a storm cloud of fear crossed Jannie's face," I can go home, can't I?" she asked me.

I nodded and smiled. "You sure can. But what you can't do, is walk out of here by yourself. Hospital rules, little sister."

Jannie looked a little crestfallen. "Not in a wheelchair. My grand exit."

I reached down and picked her up. "Yes, in a wheelchair," I said. "But you're all dressed up now. You look beautiful for your departure, princess."

We stopped off at the nurses' station and Jannie said her goodbyes and got some big hugs. Then we finally left St. Anthony's Hospital.

She was well now. The tests on the removed tumor had come back benign. She had a clean bill of health and I had never felt so relieved in my life. If I had ever forgotten how precious she was to me, and I doubt that I had, I never would again. Jannie, Damon, and little Alex were my treasures.

It took us less than ten minutes to ride home and Jannie was like a frisky little pup in the car. She had her face out the open window and was gazing wide-eyed at everything, and sniffing the smoky city air, which she proclaimed spectacular, absolutely brilliant.

When we got to the house and I parked the car, Jannie climbed out slowly, almost reverently. She stared up at our old homestead as if it were the Cathedral of Notre Dame. She did a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turn, checked out our neighborhood on Fifth Street, and nodded her approval.

"There's no place like home," she finally whispered, 'just like in The Wizard of Oz." She turned to me. "You even got the Batman and Robin kite down out of the tree. Praise the Lord."

I grinned and I could feel something good spreading through my body. I knew what it was. I wasn't petrified of losing Jannie anymore. "Actually, Nana climbed out there and got the kite down," I said.

"You, stop. "Nana Mama laughed and waved a hand at me.

We followed Jannie inside the house and she immediately picked up Rosie the cat. She held Rosie close to her face and got licked with Rosie's sandpaper tongue. Then she slowly danced with the family cat for a magical moment or two, just as she had on the night of little Alex's christening.

Jannie softly sang, "Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm so happy I'm home, I love all of you."

It was so fine and good to watch and be a part of and yes, Jannie Cross, you're right, there is no place like home. Maybe that's why I work so fiercely to protect it.

But then again, maybe I'm just rationalizing about the way I am, and probably always will be.