A/N: Thanks to skzb and Catsluver for beta'ing this chapter. You guys are the best!

Thanks to those of you who reviewed as guests. Just a reminder that I can't reply personally to guest reviews because I can't access them, but that doesn't mean your comments aren't very much appreciated!

Chapter 24

Aunt Joyce was sitting alone in a quaint, white gazebo set a little apart from Jeremy's house when TJ spotted her. It was later in the evening, and the birthday party was beginning to wind down. TJ joined her aunt, sitting beside her on a narrow, wooden bench.

"You okay, Aunt Joyce?"

Aunt Joyce turned to her with tear-filled green eyes that looked uncannily like TJ's mom's and drew in a deep breath, rubbing her hands on her thighs. When she was more composed, she gave TJ a fond smile tinged with sadness. "Yeah. I'm fine, sugar doll."

TJ peered in the direction Aunt Joyce had been looking a second earlier and saw Uncle Joe Mack laugh-wheezing with a group of older men from church. He looked very pale and thin, but he was still trying to keep up appearances, probably telling a silly joke, trying to spare those around him from feeling uncomfortable because of his illness.

TJ hugged her aunt, putting an arm around her shoulders.

Aunt Joyce patted TJ's hand. "You know, your Uncle Joe Mack has driven me crazy for thirty years. Lawsy, he could get under my skin worse than a mess of cockleburs and a rash of poison ivy combined. There's even times I thought about leaving him."

TJ was surprised and raised her brows. She knew her aunt and uncle bickered a lot, but she never in a million years would have believed things had gotten that tense between them.

Aunt Joyce chuckled at TJ's reaction. "It's true. There were times I had less-than-Christian thoughts about that man and could have wrung his neck. But you know what? If I'd left him, I would have come back. Sometimes people are just meant to be together. No matter what happens, you'll always end up finding each other in the end."

TJ sighed. She knew what Aunt Joyce was getting at. "Sam and I aren't you and Uncle Joe Mack."

"No. You two got more going for you than Joe Mack and me. We love each other, but sometimes love alone can't always make you happy. You and Sam not only loved each other, you respected one another's opinions—or you did before everything got all wee-wah. I never saw the two of you together, but I know what you had was special from what your mama and you yourself told me."

Aunt Joyce's eyes narrowed a bit. "Now, you listen to your wise old aunt, girl. That Sam knows how to treat a woman, and he loves you deeply. He stuck by you—spent hours by your bedside just reading and talking to you—when you were in the coma. Tru thought he hung the moon and bragged about him all the time. I think by the time it was all said and done, Sam knew more about comas and what was required for your care than the doctors did."

TJ was touched by that, but she wondered what Aunt Joyce would think if she knew Sam had nearly gotten Other TJ killed by a demon, not to mention all the additional freaky, scary things about his past and the demon blood. She repeated what she'd said to Katrina. "There's things about Sam you don't know."

"I'm sure that's true. Nobody's perfect," Aunt Joyce said sagely. She glanced wistfully at Uncle Joe Mack. "But I'm here to tell you that sometimes you don't appreciate what's right under your nose until it's gone."

XXXXXXXX

"I think it's time to take the twins home," said Sam, intercepting TJ as she headed to refill her plastic cup of tea for the sixth time.

She'd drunk so much sweet tea during the party, trying to make up for not eating, that she was wired from caffeine and would probably have to get up and pee a hundred times tonight. She glanced at her mother and Aunt Liv. Fern was holding Sami Joy, and Liv was holding Robby, who was getting fussy and squirmy. Aunt Liv shifted him up onto her shoulder and started patting his back. He was sucking on his fist, and, although he was quiet again for the moment, TJ knew it wouldn't last long. He was probably tired and hungry.

"Okay," she said to Sam. She set her cup on a nearby table and started to walk toward the babies, Sam pushing himself by her side.

As TJ approached, she called, "Hey, y'all. Are they getting fidgety?"

"Yeah," Fern drawled indulgently. "I think it's past their bedtime."

"Sam and I will take them home," said TJ. "You and Daddy can stay longer, if you want."

Fern smiled. "All right, hon. We'll stay and help Liv and Jeremy get things cleaned up."

Liv, her long black hair pulled up in an elegant bun, shot Fern a look of disapproval that seemed uncalled for and out of place.

Fern handed Sami Joy over to TJ, and TJ automatically kissed the baby on her head, feeling a surge of love. She was bonding more and more with the twins each day, now that she wasn't being so stubborn and rebellious. Every time she held one of them, she felt an intense rush that was sweet and beautiful and very necessary. In fact, she was starting to crave the feeling.

Sam was already rummaging in the backpack that always hung on the back of his chair and pulled out the black baby sling. He situated the two pieces of fabric on his shoulder and across his chest and then raised his gaze to Liv. TJ smiled expectantly at Liv, waiting for her to hand Robby to Sam.

Liv seemed to hug Robby closer to her, and he started to cry. "Oh, baby boy," she crooned. "It's okay. Shhh. It's okay." She swayed, and Robby settled a bit, but he was still fussy.

TJ got a bad feeling. "Aunt Liv," she said cautiously, "why don't you let Sam have Robby? He needs to be fed one more time and put to bed."

Aunt Liv's blue eyes traveled from TJ to Sam, and she frowned, looking bemused. "Who are you people? I've never seen you-all before. I'm not givin' you my baby." Her expression was almost horrified when she looked at Fern. "Why are you lettin' this strange girl take TJ?"

Fern's expression was one of dismay and sadness. She gently put a hand on Liv's shoulder. "Liv, hon, that baby is not TJ. TJ is all grown up. She's the girl holding the baby, and the baby is her daughter. The baby's name is Sami Joy." She indicated Robby. "You're holding TJ's son, Robby." Fern reached across and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, still eyeing Liv. "And this young man is TJ's husband, Sam."

Liv shook her head, and the expression on her face said she thought Fern was crazy. "Ferna Sue, what on earth are you talkin' about? TJ's just a baby. She can't be married. And this baby I'm holding is Jeremy. You know that. I don't know who the heck Robby is."

Sam looked uneasy, his brow furrowed. TJ searched the remaining crowd of party-goers for Jeremy. She saw him talking to Katrina and caught his eye, giving him a beseeching look and tilting her head toward Aunt Liv. He seemed to get the message. He gave Katrina a quick hug and a wave goodbye and headed toward TJ. Katrina had a sympathetic look on her face, and she mimed like she was talking on the telephone, signaling that TJ should call her later.

TJ nodded and waved as the tall, athletic Darius offered his arm to Katrina in a gentlemanly gesture and led her toward the cars.

When Jeremy was near, Liv spoke to him. "Ross, I don't know what's goin' on here. These people want to take Jeremy and TJ away, and Ferna Sue seems to be goin' along with them."

Jeremy stood next to Liv, not quite a head taller, and put his arm around her. He appeared to immediately grasp what was going on. "Mama," he said with gentle patience, "it's time to give the baby back to his parents."

Liv blinked in surprise. "Ross Suggs, I am not your mama, and you know it. Quit foolin' around. This isn't funny!"

Jeremy cast a look at TJ, features desolate. He swallowed and looked back to his mother. "Liv," he said with authority, sounding like his dad used to, "let's take the baby inside and talk about this." It was clear he was trying to avoid a scene in front of the people who were still lingering at the party.

Liv glowered at TJ and Sam, then huffed at Jeremy. "Not until you make these people leave our property!"

Robby started crying again, more urgent and angry. Liv was squeezing him to her chest, and the more he wiggled, the tighter she held him.

Sam's mouth was pressed into a thin line, his shoulders rigid. To his credit, he kept his cool, although TJ knew he was as on edge as she was.

"Liv," Fern said, trying to be reasonable, "maybe the baby is cranky because he needs his diaper changed. Let's take him inside and take care of that." She put her hand lightly on Liv's arm.

Liv shook her off and peered at Fern with contempt. "I'm not fallin' for that, Fern. I don't know what you're about. You may be willing to let strangers handle your baby, but they're not gettin' near my Jeremy."

At that point, Vern walked up. "What's goin' on here?" he said, a frown on his face and concern in his voice.

"Don't you get in on this, too, Vernon Nelek," Liv warned. "No one is gettin' near my son except me and Ross."

Vern's questioning eyes went to Jeremy.

Jeremy was pale, his voice hollow. "She's confused. She thinks Robby is me when I was a baby." He placed his hands on Liv's shoulders and turned her to where she was facing him. "Liv, listen to me," he said in his dad's authoritative tone, "I'm going to take the baby, okay? Give him to me. You know he'll be safe with me."

She stared at him and, for a moment, it appeared she might do what Jeremy said. She loosened her hold on Robby, but, at the last second, she hugged him to her chest again and took a step back, out of Jeremy's reach. "No. I heard what you said to Vern. You're goin' along with this chicanery. I don't understand any of this, but you-all are not gettin' my baby boy." She scanned them all with a fierce wariness.

Robby's face was red and livid, and he was struggling against Liv. TJ realized with horror that Liv was pressing his little head into her bosom, and TJ was afraid it was hard for him to breathe. She reached out a hand, palm up in a supplicating gesture. "Aunt Liv, please. You're suffocating him."

Liv took another step back. "Don't you try to trick me. I would never hurt my own son."

Jeremy's voice was full of anguish. "Mama, please," he begged.

Vern looked at Jeremy. "We're gonna have to force her to let go." His manner was ominous and apologetic at the same time.

TJ's heart was pounding. Sami Joy started to cry too, either picking up on Robby's distress or feeling the fear in TJ. TJ kissed the baby's cheek and began to sway, crooning softly into her ear.

Jeremy looked sickened that he and Vern would have to manhandle his mother but nodded. The two men approached Aunt Liv, and she looked terrified, her eyes searching around wildly for an escape.

"Wait," called Sam to Vern and Jeremy. His voice was unnervingly calm and sliced through the chaos and tension of the moment. Both Vern and Jeremy halted.

"Mrs. Suggs," said Sam above the din of the crying babies, "what color are Jeremy's eyes?"

Liv tilted her head and raised her brows, like the question had taken her off guard, considering the circumstances. "A—a light blue, really more of a gray. Very unusual for a baby." She tossed a reproving look at Jeremy. "Just like his daddy's."

"Right, Mrs. Suggs," Sam agreed politely, but there was intensity just under the surface of his placid demeanor. "Tell me, the baby you're holding—what color are its eyes?"

"I just told you. Light gray."

"Are you sure?" asked Sam. "Please. Just take a look. If you can prove his eyes are the same color as Jeremy's, we'll all leave you alone."

She hesitated.

"I promise." Sam's hands were in the air, nonthreatening, and his forehead was creased into a sincere, earnest expression.

TJ watched the scene with bated breath and was suddenly aware that tears were sliding down her own cheeks. She'd gotten Sami Joy to stop crying, but Robby's distress was heart-wrenching.

Liv gave a curt nod and pulled Robby away from her chest, holding him so she could see his face. Robby was wailing, his arms and legs stiff with fury.

Liv's delicate black brows knitted together.

"What color are the baby's eyes, Mrs. Suggs?" Sam prompted.

"I—I don't understand. Jeremy's eyes—this baby—his eyes are a darker blue." She looked up, and the utter confusion on her face was pathetic and tragic. "I don't understand how that could be."

They were all silent, and TJ again held her breath, hoping that Aunt Liv would finally comprehend. At last, Liv's eyes welled with tears, and she stared at Robby with a mixture of guilt and horror.

"Please, Mrs. Suggs," Sam said over Robby's crying, "can I have my son?"

She sobbed, her shoulders slumping and the fight going out of her. Fern approached her and reached for Robby, gently prying him from her arms. Bereft of the baby, Liv's arms fell limply, numbly, to her sides.

Fern jiggled and crooned to a still-livid Robby until she could hand him to Sam. Sam reached up and took him, immediately soothing and holding Robby in the "football" hold and shushing loudly in his ear like TJ had seen him do the day she came home from the hospital.

After a minute, Robby began to settle, his hysterical crying subsiding into hiccups and little sniffles.

"I'm sorry," said Aunt Liv, sounding breathless. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand. "I'm so sorry." Tears ran down her cheeks. She clearly realized that she'd been in the wrong but, at the same time, she looked scared, like she still wasn't sure exactly what was going on.

TJ didn't condone what Liv had done. She shuddered when she thought of how Liv had pressed Robby's face to her chest and nearly suffocated him, but the Aunt Liv that TJ knew never would have done such a thing if she'd been in her right mind. TJ could identify with feeling lost and confused and couldn't help but feel sorry for Jeremy's mom—this woman who had been like a second mother to her growing up.

Robby was calm now, his eyes glazing over on the verge of sleep, and Sam got him secured in the baby sling, wrapping him in the black fabric close to his chest.

Jeremy put his arm around his mother's shoulders. "You want a cup of chamomile tea, Mama?" he asked softly.

Liv swallowed convulsively and looked at Jeremy with uncertainty, like she still wasn't sure who he was. He kissed her on her temple, a son showing affection to his mother, and she nodded, seemingly resigned to her fate.

As they walked toward the back porch of the stately farmhouse, Jeremy glanced over his shoulder, his face a mixture of apology, sorrow, and even gratitude when his eyes rested briefly on Sam. Then he caught TJ's gaze and held it. The grief she saw in his gray eyes was stark and barren. She felt it settle like a cold stone in the pit of her stomach.

She looked around and saw that those who were left at the party had all stopped talking and watched the scene play out, and she knew things could have gotten really ugly if Sam hadn't talked Aunt Liv into giving up Robby. Jeremy and Vern would've had to forcefully hold Liv and wrest Robby from her arms. It would have shamed and traumatized everyone involved. Sam had been trying to save Robby, but he'd done more than that. He'd managed to salvage at least a small shred of Jeremy and Liv's dignity.

TJ thought of her own mom and felt sick at heart when she realized how hard it must be for Jeremy to see his vibrant, doting mother reduced to such embarrassing and—TJ hated to think it—dangerous behavior.

Both of TJ's parents' faces were etched with deep sadness. Vern had put his arm around Fern and her arms were wrapped around him, head buried in his chest, seeking solace. TJ felt bad for her mother. Fern and Liv had been close friends since before Jeremy and TJ were born.

"TJ?" Sam urged gently.

She glanced down at him, almost in a daze in the aftermath of everything. Robby had fallen asleep, content now that he was safe with his daddy, and TJ felt Sami Joy's little body relaxing on her shoulder and knew that she was about to join her brother in dreamland. Sam nodded toward each of the twins. "We really should get them to bed."

She nodded and followed him as he pushed his chair toward the driveway where her car was. She was profoundly relieved that Robby was okay and grateful to Sam for his quick thinking, but she was torn. She was worried about Jeremy. Here she was, abandoning him when she knew he was hurting and needed her.

After all, he'd promised to always be there for her. Shouldn't she be there for him?

XXXXXXXX

TJ was sitting in a rocking chair, cradling Sami Joy in one arm and feeding her a bottle. Robby, a more enthusiastic eater than his sister, had already scarfed down his bottle, and Sam was changing his diaper at a changing table that had been shortened so that he could reach it. He quickly and deftly got Robby diapered and dressed in a plain white cotton onesie.

TJ was impressed. Sam was a lot better at diapering and dressing the twins than she was, and she didn't have hands the size of baseball mitts. Of course, he'd had a lot of practice, since he'd virtually been a single dad—Fern's help notwithstanding.

When Sami Joy finished her bottle, TJ set it down on the middle shelf of the other, taller changing table in the room that she was sitting next to. She shifted Sami Joy up to her shoulder and began patting the baby's back, trying to pat firmly enough to make Sami Joy burp.

"Could you toss me a SleepSack?" asked Sam. He tilted his head toward the taller changing table and the stacks of diapers, SleepSacks, and onesies on its lower shelves, along with the requisite diaper essentials like Butt Paste and wet wipes.

Instead of tossing it to him, she stood, grabbed the blue blanket-like SleepSack, and took it over to him, still holding Sami Joy securely on her shoulder with one hand. "Here you go," she said, handing the garment to Sam.

He took it and absently set it in his lap, his focus on Robby. He was holding Robby's foot and staring at it, seemingly mesmerized by it. TJ wished she had a camera. It was such a moving thing to see, Robby's tiny foot in Sam's large hand—a moment in time that any professional photographer would be able to recognize and appreciate as a work of art.

Sam rubbed his thumb over the bottom of Robby's foot, and Robby wiggled his mini toes and kicked a little in response. Sam's mouth curved into a small smile, dimples surfacing. "It's beautiful, you know?" he said quietly. "The motion of the human body, the muscles and everything working together. It's amazing that, even in someone so small, it all works seamlessly." Along with the pride of a loving father, there was a wistfulness to his tone.

His manner was reflective as he continued to watch, still enthralled with the way Robby's legs and feet moved. TJ couldn't help but wonder if Sam was thinking about his own body—about his feet and legs that didn't move.

She pictured in her mind his body in action, the confident way he pushed himself in his chair, the efficient way he transferred to and from it, the incredible strength and grace in his movements when she saw him doing the yoga. Just the thought of his ripped upper body made her mouth go dry. "You—your body is beautiful too, Sam."

He looked at her for a long moment, searching her face. Then he looked away for a second, swallowing, and when he spoke, his voice was huskier than usual. "Thank you."

She gave a short, shy nod and shifted her gaze to Sami Joy, patting the baby and blushing furiously.

Once the twins were safe in their beds for the night, Sam asked TJ to join him on the back porch for a talk. She was wary, wondering if there was some other weird or scary thing about his life that he was about to spring on her or if they were going to argue again about Jeremy.

There was a set of worn white wicker furniture with padded, flowery-printed cushions on one end of the porch, and Sam transferred to the small loveseat. TJ kicked off the ballet flats she'd worn to the party and sat in a wicker rocking chair catty-corner to him. If they were going to talk about something important, she wanted to keep a clear mind and didn't want to be distracted by him. She knew that was a very real danger if she sat next to him.

Now that they were seated, his mouth was set and he was quiet, staring out into the backyard. There was a nightlight on a tall pole that stood sentinel over the yard, casting a blue glow. The porch itself was illuminated by a single light that burned near the kitchen door.

She sensed that whatever Sam had to say, he wasn't looking forward to saying it, and she didn't think she wanted to hear it. She rocked in the chair, pushing with her bare foot against the ottoman that sat in the middle of all the furniture, and waited...and waited...and waited. Finally, she grew impatient and decided to break the silence, hoping to distract him from whatever serious subject he was contemplating. "Thanks, you know, for being gentle with Jeremy's mom. The way you reasoned with her, it was a whole lot better than having to tackle her and wrench Robby from her arms."

Sam's forehead wrinkled in that pensive way he had. "I was afraid Robby might end up getting hurt in the fray—and Mrs. Suggs, too. It was worth the effort to try talking to her one more time."

He made a sobering point, and TJ felt a chill at the thought of Robby potentially getting hurt. She felt the need to steer the subject to something less unsettling. "You're really good with the twins."

"Thanks."

"Was it hard at first, learning how to take care of them?"

His mouth quirked, dimples flashing again. "God, yes, it was hard. I couldn't have done it without Fern. We had to be so careful with them, even had to turn away a lot of well-meaning visitors when we first got to Moss Fork to minimize germ exposure. We had to make sure everything was sterile because their immune systems were weaker than normal newborns, and we're still careful about that."

TJ felt a pang of guilt for suggesting they put the twins in daycare.

"Fern and I were so afraid of AOP. The twins never had much trouble with it in the NICU and it was pretty much resolved when we brought them home, but it was still my worst fear."

"AOP?"

"Apnea of prematurity. It's when they stop breathing while they're sleeping."

"Oh, my Lord," said TJ with alarm.

"The doctor told us after they were forty-four weeks old—age not adjusted—if they didn't trigger the alarm, we could take them off the monitor, but Fern and I both were so scared. We left them on the monitor for way longer than we needed to, but we eventually took them off of it right before you came home. Unfortunately," he added with concern, "now they're at the peak age for being at risk for SIDS—Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

"We do everything that's recommended, like making sure there's nothing around them such as stuffed animals or soft bedding that could smother them. That's why we always put them on their backs to sleep; not that they'll be staying that way for long, since they're learning to roll over," he said wryly. "The SleepSacks are approved by a lot of child safety and SIDS prevention organizations. Still, there's no surefire way to predict SIDS. There's no monitor that detects it."

TJ felt a chill of unease.

"I know," he sympathized, apparently sensing her fear. "Fern says the anxiety never ends, that there will always be something to worry about with the twins, even after they're older. It's just part of parenting."

Yeah, TJ thought. Like a demon coming to steal them.

"Then, there was the whole issue of feeding them," he went on, unaware of her dire thought. "When we first brought them home, they were on nasogastric feeding tubes, which, trust me, was a major hassle. It was difficult for them to learn how to suck from a bottle and it took them awhile. They finally got it down enough that we could take the tubes out a month or so before you came home."

He ran a hand absently through his long hair, distracted by his memories. "We had all the extra stuff to deal with because the twins were preemies, and then there was the normal stuff, too, like trying to get them to sleep on a schedule. I've never been so exhausted in my life, and I even had Fern to help. We would try to get Sami Joy and Robby to stay awake longer during the day, but they were both little night owls. Fern and I almost wept for joy the first night they both slept five hours in a row at the same time."

TJ was amused by the idea of hunky Sam weeping for joy like a girl, even though she knew he'd meant it figuratively. "Wow," she said. "Sounds like it was all really stressful." She hesitated a beat. "I think I'm glad I was in a coma."

He huffed a laugh, dimples at maximum depth. "Yeah. You got off easy."

She grinned. It felt good to be able to banter about things that were so serious. It took some of the pain out of it, made it have less impact.

They locked eyes with each other, and something passed between them, something that made her body hum with electricity. She looked down at her cuticles, trying to ward off a blush. "So, um," she cleared her throat, "what did you want to talk to me about?"

He didn't answer, and after a minute, she looked up at him quizzically.

He shifted his shoulders like he was uncomfortable. "I think we should wait for your parents to get home."

"Why?"

He drew in a slow breath through his teeth. "It's something we all need to talk about together."

She was wary. "Just tell me."

Rocket, who'd been roaming around the backyard, began to bark in the distance, and TJ could hear the crackle of tires on gravel.

Sam looked relieved. "That's probably your parents driving up right now."

TJ got a sinking feeling in her stomach. Whatever this was about, there was no doubt she wasn't going to like it.

Her dad pulled all the way up into the driveway, parking the Tahoe near the back porch. Hardly anyone ever used the front door of the house and always went in by way of the kitchen, unless they had visitors. Her parents walked up the steps to the back porch, both looking tired.

"Did y'all get things cleaned up?" asked TJ. "How are Jeremy and Aunt Liv?"

Fern shook her head. "She was still confused when we left. She's not understanding that Jeremy is her grown son, and she's upset. She's back to thinking someone took her baby."

TJ took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling an ache for Jeremy.

Fern joined Sam on the loveseat, and Vern sank down into another wicker chair across the ottoman from TJ.

"Liv's gettin' hostile toward Jeremy," said Vern. "She thinks he's Ross and that he's not doing anything to help her find the baby. I think he finally had to give her a sedative. He's hoping a good night's sleep will lessen her confusion in the morning."

TJ nodded.

Everyone was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, but then the silence stretched out for too long. There was obviously a big elephant hovering over them that everyone could see except TJ. She was starting to feel tired and made a big show of yawning, hoping to put off whatever somber topic her parents and Sam had in store for her. "I'm beat. I'm gonna get ready for bed." She started to get up from her chair.

Sam and her parents all shared a look, and then Fern spoke. "Just a minute, hon. There's something we need to talk about."

TJ plopped down in her chair with a sigh. "Can't we do this tomorrow?"

Vern had his serious face on and gave her a measured look. "I think we should just get this over with."

TJ's eyes traveled over each one of them, and she was getting more and more apprehensive.

"We're worried that you're not eating enough, hon," said Fern.

TJ rolled her eyes and almost smiled with relief that it was something relatively normal—something other than demons and visions. "Mama, I eat plenty."

Again, Sam, Fern, and Vern shared a look, and TJ started to feel a bit defensive, like she was outnumbered.

Sam spoke next, his voice even and rational. "TJ, in some ways, because of the memory loss, it's like you were frozen in time, and the rest of us moved on. It's like we have a crystal ball, and we can see by your actions now what you will do in the future. We can predict what's going to happen."

She didn't say anything, but her mind began to race, began to look for words to convince them she was fine.

"Your parents and I, we know what to watch for now. We didn't before." He was leaning toward her, elbows on his knees and hands clasped loosely in front of him. When she didn't comment, he continued, his eyes narrowed in concern. "We know the signs, Teej, and we're really worried about you."

"You're blowing this way out of proportion." She had to make them understand it wasn't like that. They were wrong.

Sam went on, unfazed. "We've noticed the way you go for days without eating much, how you push your food around on your plate to make it look like you ate more than you did." His tone grew gentle. "I heard you lie to Fern, and I know all you did at the party was drink tea."

How dare he rat her out in front of her mom! She felt herself heat with mortification and sat like a bump on a log, wishing the porch would open up and swallow her. She felt like a cornered rabbit.

"We were all watching you," said Vern. "None of us ever saw you eat. You never even got a plate."

TJ's throat narrowed and she felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. She forced herself to swallow and raised her chin. "So what if I never ate? It's not a big deal. I had a big lunch earlier in the day."

She was met with an accusing silence, and it made her angry. Had they watched every move she'd made—treating her like a child again? "I know what I'm doing," she asserted. "I know about the bulimia, and I won't let it happen again. I'm in control."

Sam sat back against the sofa. "That's part of what it's about—control. Not eating makes you feel empowered and successful, but it never ends, TJ. You'll never be thin enough. It'll never be enough. It'll always be just a few more pounds that you want to lose, and you'll never stop."

She scoffed, trying to hide how deeply shaken she was. "I'm just watching what I eat, Sam. That's all it is. People do it all the time. It's the American way," she said cynically.

"You're too thin, hon," said Fern. "You haven't regained any of the weight you lost from being in the hospital. You're not rebuilding any muscle, even though you've been doing your PT."

"It hasn't even been that long since I came home! You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"We do," Vern insisted solemnly. "We know what you look like when you're at a healthy weight," he looked her up and down, "and this ain't it. You should've gained at least a little bit of it back. Instead, if anything, you look thinner."

She knew what she looked like. No one would look at her now and say, "Oh, TJ, you're just full-figured," which really meant, "You can't help it if you're built like a linebacker."

She was thin for the first time in her life—that she remembered. She wouldn't go beyond where she was now. She would stop losing and show Sam and her parents that she was fine. It wouldn't be like before with the bulimia. But she damn sure wasn't going to start gaining weight, either.

"Daddy, give me a little credit. You think I'm dumb enough to go down that path again? I know about the eating disorder. I won't let it happen."

Vern's mouth was tight and he didn't look convinced.

Fern's manner was cautious. "Hon, we don't think you're dumb. It doesn't have anything to do with how smart you are. It's all about perceptions—how you perceive your body—and those perceptions can get skewed."

"So...what?" TJ said, her tone acerbic. "You want me to go in the kitchen and eat something right now? Will that satisfy you? Will that prove to you that there's nothing wrong with me?"

Again, she was met with tight expressions.

"And if I do eat, then what? Will you think that I pigged out? Will you put a guard on me twenty-four/seven to make sure I don't go barf it back up like I'm a mental case?"

Sam's voice was quiet. "No one thinks you're a mental case, TJ. We just want you to see a counselor. That's all. We just want you to have someone to talk to."

She looked up to the gray beadboard ceiling that covered the porch, frustrated and furious, and then laughed bitterly. "I feel like I'm being convicted of a crime I didn't commit." She pierced them all with a defiant look. "I eat. And, yeah, maybe I've even binged once or twice, but it's nothing out of the ordinary. I've never made myself throw up. Do you hear me?"

Vern spoke. "We're not saying you have, but we've been down this road before, girl. We know what can happen."

"Please, Teej," said Sam. "Put yourself in our shoes. We watched you struggle with the bulimia before. We watched you almost die because of it. We're afraid for you."

She crossed her arms and shook her head in disbelief. They were so overreacting. "I don't need a shrink. I'm fine, so just leave me alone."

"It doesn't just have to be about the eating disorder, hon," said Fern. "You could talk to a counselor about the memory loss and maybe learn to deal with it better. A counselor could help you adjust to all the changes you woke up to."

TJ was scornful. "Right. And what am I supposed to say about my husband who used to fight ghosts and demons? You think a shrink can help me deal with that!"

Sam's nostrils flared and he looked away. She'd struck a low blow, but they all knew it was the truth. The air was permeated with a long, heavy silence. Obviously, there were some things she would never be able to confide to a professional.

Finally, Vern spoke, his voice weary. "We ain't the villains here, TJ. We're doin' this because we love you."

She was adamant. "No. I don't want to go. I don't need counseling." Why couldn't they understand?

"Well," said Vern, his tone taking on a mixture of resolve and fatherly authority, "you ain't got much choice in the matter. We made you an appointment with a psychologist in Lexington that specializes in eating disorders. You're goin' next Wednesday."

"When Hell freezes over," TJ said with attitude. As soon as she said the words, she was slammed with a feeling of déjà vu, like she'd had this conversation before, and it made her feel queasy. Her heart started to race.

Vern was getting angry, unaware of what was going on inside TJ's head, and his blue eyes were bright and penetrating. "Well, long about Wednesday, there's gonna be the biggest ice storm in Hell you ever saw."

"TJ?" Sam was peering at her in concern, but there was an alertness to his gaze, like he was trying to read her. He glanced at Vern and held up a hand to stop Vern from saying anything more and then focused back on TJ. "Are you okay?"

She stared at him. "I..." She licked her lips. "Did we...have we...?"

He nodded. "We had a similar argument like this before. Right before, uh—" He stopped abruptly and frowned, looking guilty. "I wanted you to see a doctor. You refused, and I said some things that upset you. Soon after, you binged and then...purged. It was when you ruptured your esophagus. Did you—do you remember?"

She was horrified. She didn't remember the argument, but she sensed the hurt feelings like they were ingrained in her, and she was overwhelmed with shame that she'd been so self-destructive. "I...no, I don't remember. I..." She didn't know how to describe what she felt. It wasn't a memory, just strong feelings, sort of like imprints.

Sam glanced at Vern and Fern meaningfully and then focused back on TJ. "We can see history repeating itself here, TJ," he explained. "I should have—if I'd convinced you to see a doctor sooner the first time, maybe you wouldn't have ended up in the hospital."

Fern gave a self-deprecating huff. "Or maybe if I'd recognized the signs of an eating disorder before you ever went off to college, I could have gotten you help way before things escalated. I should have seen it. I was your mother."

"Go see the counselor for us, TJ, for our peace of mind," Vern implored. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you've got things under control and we're worried for nothin', but we'd feel better if a doctor told us that."

The shame she'd felt just a moment ago gave way to anger—anger that they were so sure they knew what was best for her, anger that they had so little faith in her. "So I'm guilty until proven innocent?"

Jaw squaring, Sam let out a breath, then let his head fall back against the Pepto-pink, clapboard wall of the house behind him, like he was frustrated that TJ wasn't listening.

Well, screw him. Screw them all. They were the ones that weren't listening. "I don't need to see a counselor. I'll start eating more if it'll make you feel better. I just haven't had much of an appetite since I got out of the hospital. A shrink is overkill and an expense that's not necessary. It's just one more bill to add to the pile."

Sam's head came up, and he, Vern, and Fern all shook their heads and started to speak at the same time.

"Don't worry—"

"That's not an issue—"

"Oh, hon—"

They stopped, and Vern spoke. "Don't you worry none about how much it costs. We'll get you the help you need."

"No! I don't need any help!"

Vern pursed his mouth. "It ain't up for debate. We're tryin' to be respectful of your feelings here, but if you won't listen to reason..."

TJ felt herself tense. "You'll what, Daddy?"

"Vern..." Sam cautioned.

Vern trudged on, heedless of Sam's warning. "I guess we'll strap you on top of the Tahoe like a piece of luggage. One way or another, we'll get you to that damn doctor!"

TJ stood, indignant, fists clenched and hot, righteous resentment coursing through her. "I'm done with this conversation. I'm a grown woman, and no one can force me to see a shrink. I like my body for the first time in my life. I don't feel like a fuckin' Amazon anymore, and I'm not gonna let you three or some damn stranger in Lexington ruin that for me."

Fern looked stricken; Vern looked fierce; and Sam had that soulful, worried expression on his face that might have made TJ melt in other circumstances, but this sure as hell wasn't one of them.

She shoved her feet into her flats, walked over and reached inside the kitchen door to get her car keys hanging on a peg, and stalked down Sam's ramp toward her car in the driveway.

She could hear a commotion of voices from the porch and knew her dad was about to come after her. But it wasn't her dad's voice she heard behind her as she walked. It was Sam's deep rumble.

"TJ?"

She froze for a second and then turned. He was in his chair, coasting quickly and gracefully down the ramp, a black, shadowy figure in the glow of the nightlight. When he got to the bottom, he stopped a foot away from her and looked up, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and intense. "Where are you going?" he asked quietly.

"Where do you think?"

"Don't leave, TJ. We can talk through this."

She was still sorely pissed off. "I'm done talking in circles. I can't talk to you or my parents. You won't listen."

"And Jeremy will?"

"Yes," she said with certainty.

He glanced away, but not before she saw the anger on his face that cracked his stoic mask. "Don't go to him." His voice was lethally calm.

"Jeremy will treat me like an adult and respect my opinion." She turned her back to him and started again toward her car.

Sam's voice cut through the summer night. "In order to be treated like an adult, TJ, you have to act like one."

His words were unfair and hit her like a slap in the face. Incensed, she clenched her fists and felt her keys dig into her palm. "Go to hell," she said darkly, not daring to look back. She would die before she let him see the treacherous, childish tears that were spilling down her cheeks.

TBC