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Piper sniffed.
“I need to finish filling out this paperwork. Why don’t you go play for a while?”
Piper nodded and went into the living room but positioned herself on the floor so she could see me while she played with her doll.
“Don’t worry, Linda.”
Every time I heard my dead mother’s name it startled me. It’s like that name is associated with fear and no matter how many times Piper says it my reaction is always the same. It makes me jump and wince. I looked up and watched as Piper hugged her baby doll. “I’ll take good care of you. And you can get a dog. What kind would you like? A Yorkie-Poo? They’re cute.”
I bit my lip and returned to filling out the paperwork. A form sent home from the PTO requested help for school activities. Spirit wear sale. Fall festival. Christmas candy fundraiser. I remember when I was in school I’d always wished my mom would be one of those parents who volunteered for homeroom activities. I remember one time we were going on a field trip and my teacher was looking for chaperones. I begged my mom to volunteer but she said she was too busy, and that was for moms who didn’t have anything else better to do. She did. She had to work two jobs to take care of me. That was a constant reminder. I looked down at the form and checked all of the boxes. I didn’t want to become my mother.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_c0a67e34-5329-5ac1-a54d-dd1aa8ec9eef)
Mary
The cleaning agency called to tell me they were sending someone the next day. They didn’t tell me much, other than that she was twenty-two and very thorough. I finished reading the paper and then called the florist to have flowers delivered to June’s funeral. She’d moved to Arizona shortly after my parents sent me away and the service and burial were there.
She still had relatives living in the area, which I guess is why the local newspaper carried her obituary. I didn’t plan on attending the service, but I thought a basket of flowers would be a nice gesture.
I showered and made it to my doctor’s appointment with five minutes to spare.
The nurse opened the door to the waiting room. “Mrs. McAlaster?”
I stood and followed her down the hall.
“You’re in room seven today. Do you think you could give me a urine sample?”
I nodded.
She pointed to the bathroom. “There are cups in there. Just leave the cup on the sink when you’re done and I’ll get it. Then go into the room and put on the gown. I’ll be right in to go over your family history.”
By the time I’d undressed and put on the soft pink cover-up that snapped in the front the nurse was knocking on the door.
“Come in,” I said.
“How have you been feeling, Mary?”
“Can’t complain. Little aches and pains here and there, but that’s to be expected for my age.”
The nurse proceeded to go over my family history. Ovarian cancer?
“No.”
“Breast cancer on your mother’s side?”
“Yes.”
“And you had one breast biopsy but that was, let’s see…” She scrolled up the laptop screen. “In 1997. And since then your mammograms have been normal.”
“That’s correct. The 1997 biopsy showed no sign of cancer. I had calcifications but was told they were nothing to worry about.”
She proceeded to go over my history. “And you’ve never been pregnant, correct? No miscarriages or abortions?”
I’ve always said no to this question, but something made me want to say yes. What did it matter now? Hadn’t I kept this secret long enough? Besides, Mother and Father and James were long gone. I kept the secret because they’d asked me to. They’d always been so worried about what other people would think. And I’d kept their secret, too. Again, because they’d asked me to. But the world had changed in the last fifty years. Nowadays women had children out of wedlock and men and women had same-sex partners and some of them had children, either biological or adopted. Sometimes, I wondered what it would’ve been like had I been born twenty years later.
I never had the chance to tell Teddy I was carrying his child. Mother found me throwing up one morning and cornered me in the bathroom. Teddy was on vacation with his family and by the time he’d returned my parents had sent me away. But sometimes I wondered what would’ve happened if Mother hadn’t found me and I had been able to tell Teddy. Would my life have turned out differently?
“Mary?” the nurse asked.
“Yes.”
She looked out over her glasses. “Yes, you’ve never been pregnant?”
“That’s correct,” I said, knowing that even now I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone the truth. The ghosts of Mother and Father and James still haunted me and I guess they would forever.
I suppose never having children is one of the reasons why I’ve done so much to help them now. I think about my daughter. What became of her? Did she grow up and become a mother? Was I a grandmother and didn’t know it? Did she ever try to find me? I’d thought about finding her a time or two, but gave up. I reasoned that not knowing anything about her might be better than learning something terrible. I had enough terrible in my life.
My doctor’s office was located next to the hospital. I’d often go over when I was out this way to look at the babies in the nursery.
I followed an older man into the elevator. “Third floor, please.”
He smiled. “That’s where they keep the babies, right?”
I nodded.
“Are you one of those grandma rockers?”
He must have noticed the puzzled look on my face. “You know, those older women who volunteer to cuddle the sick babies?”
I shook my head. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I’d plan to find out.
I walked down the hall painted a creamy yellow and turned the corner. I wasn’t the only one visiting babies today. There were four others with their noses smashed against the glass wall. I walked over and peeked through the glass. There were seven babies lined up in two straight rows. The boys had blue caps on their heads and the girls wore pink.
“Aren’t they just darling?” a woman in a wheelchair said.
“Very.”
“Is one of them your grandchild?” she asked.
“No. I just came to visit. How about you?”
She shook her head. “Our grandson is in the neonatal intensive care unit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
She held up her finger as if she were about to lecture me. “But he’s a fighter. He’s getting stronger every day. He was just born a little too soon.”
The woman wheeled away and I went back to watching through the window. Their hands were so tiny and they all had such cute little bow lips. It still amazed me that something so beautiful had come out of me but I never got to see her. Oh, how I would’ve loved to hold my daughter’s tiny hand in mine. To cuddle and kiss her to pieces. A tear slid down my cheek. I turned and saw a nurse headed in my direction.
“Can I ask you something?”
She stopped.
“How do you go about volunteering to cuddle the sick babies?”
She smiled. “Follow me and I’ll get you some information on it.”
So I did just that.
Chapter 5 (#ulink_8345e731-dcd9-5e08-b07a-f9c06ecf2baf)
Rachel
The next day, I pulled up to the ornate wrought-iron gate, which looked like it belonged around a cemetery instead of a mansion. The huge house sat on top of a hill overlooking the city. I’d wondered about Mary. What was her story? Everyone has one. What was hers? Why did she live alone in a house bigger than a hotel? From the little I’d learned, her husband, who was at least twenty years older, had died long ago. She had no children but was a huge philanthropist in town. I’d googled her name and found a ton of stories about her donating huge sums of money to the library and various cultural arts organizations. But who was she really? I wondered.
I followed the long private road, which led to a cobblestone circular driveway, and pulled up in front of the massive stone steps leading up to the main entrance. I parked my car, feeling embarrassed my old Honda Civic with rust spots was sitting in front of such a grand house. It looked as out of place as I felt. I glanced left, admiring the beautiful three-tiered stone fountain hugged by pink flowering shrubs in the grassy area, and opened my car door.
I paused, gazing at the stately columns and imposing brick façade. I felt like I was about to enter a castle. I walked up the stone steps and approached the carved mahogany door. Just as I was about to ring the bell, the door opened.
“Hi! You must be Rachel.” Mary smiled.
Mary was elegantly dressed in white slacks and a periwinkle sweater that matched the color of her eyes. She wore her hair in a bob and it was cotton white, sprinkled with strands of gray.
I held out my hand. “It’s so nice to meet you!”
She waved me in. “Now, don’t look too closely or you’ll see why taking care of this house has been too much for me.”
I followed her across the polished marble foyer, crème colored with black diamond shapes sprinkled throughout. We walked past the sweeping staircase, down the hall and into a sitting area. I did see some dust, but it honestly didn’t look too bad for a woman who had apparently been doing all of the work herself.
Mary sat down on the floral sofa and patted it with her long, slender fingers. “Please, sit.”
I chewed on my lip, puzzled by Mary’s strange request. She was paying me to clean, not to sit and chat.
“Are you sure you don’t have a floor that needs washing or a bathroom that needs cleaning?”
She pursed her lips, the color of a faded red rose. “Rachel, please. Sit. I thought we’d get to know each other first.”
I walked over and sat beside her. Mary pointed to the antique tea set on the cherry coffee table. “Would you like some tea?”
I didn’t want to be rude, even though I prefer coffee, and accepted the fine china teacup rimmed in gold and accented with pink roses.
Mary lifted the sugar bowl. “Would you like a cube or two?”
I picked up the tiny sugar tongs and dropped a cube into my cup, stirring it with the silver spoon Mary had handed me.
She sat back and sipped her tea. “Did you hear that storm last night?”
I nodded. “It woke up my sister. She hates storms. When it storms she usually ends up in my bed.”
Mary smiled. “I hate storms, too. Tell me about your sister. Does she look like you?”
I nodded. Despite having different fathers, my sister was a mini me, with her blonde, curly hair that hung in ringlets and framed her heart-shaped faced.
“A lot of people say we look alike, except her eyes are as bright as bluebells. I’d much rather have her blue eyes than my muddy brown.”
“Nonsense!” Mary waved her hand, adorned with a diamond the size of the sugar cube I’d just dropped into my tea. It caught the sun’s rays coming through the large window and glistened. “You have beautiful eyes. And they aren’t muddy. They’re chestnut.”
I sipped my tea. “Thank you.”
“Now, about your sister. What’s her name?”
“Piper Rose. She’s five and in kindergarten.”
Mary’s lips turned up. “Piper Rose. What a pretty name. And did she end up in your bed last night?”
“Yes. I didn’t sleep very well. She moves around a lot and always seems to end up sideways, her tiny toes digging into my back.”
The small smile on Mary’s face grew. “Enjoy those moments. They’re fleeting. One day here and gone the next. Just like the fringe tree in front of the carriage house. Yesterday, it was in full bloom. Then we had that terrible storm last night. Pea-sized hail and wicked wind so fierce it rattled my bedroom windows. And when I walked outside this morning, the fringes were gone. Poof! Just like that they were torn from the tree and scattered all over the ground.”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” I said, “when Piper’s tiny toes are scratching my back.”
Mary laughed. “Were you scared of thunder when you were little?”
I nodded. “Actually, my friend Claire and I spent some time living with an older woman. Her name was Evelyn. You remind me a lot of her, actually. Anyway, one night not long after Claire came to live with us there was a bad storm. Claire and I practically ran into each other when we’d both jumped out of bed to go to the other’s room. We ended up in my bed and we played a game to take our minds off the storm.”
Mary smiled. “A game?”
“Yes, sort of. Claire came up with it. She called it the alphabet game. We’d take turns drawing letters on each other’s backs. The one not drawing had to guess what the letter was. E’s and F’s and J’s and I’s were sometimes hard. You really had to pay attention.”
“Sounds like fun,” Mary said. “And are you and Claire still friends?”
“Yes. Miss Evelyn’s was the first foster home we were in together. We only got to stay with her once, though. The foster homes that followed weren’t much better than the places we lived in with our moms.”
Mary’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh, Rachel. I’m so sorry to hear that. Do you live with your mom now?”
“Oh, no. She died. That’s how Piper came to live with me. Or rather, I moved into the apartment she shared with my mom. I didn’t want Piper to end up in foster care like me. That’s why I dropped out of college so I could take care of her. Working for the cleaning agency allows me a more flexible schedule, which I need if I’m going to be there for Piper.”
“It’s great that Piper has you,” Mary said.
“I didn’t even know I had a sister until my mom died. I fled home when I was seventeen, as soon as I graduated from high school. I hated my mom for choosing the bottle over me, for not caring enough to stay sober so my life wouldn’t be a revolving door of foster homes.”
Mary hadn’t taken her eyes off mine. And in those eyes I saw shock and pity.
Mary sighed. “I’m sorry you had such a difficult childhood. I never lived in a foster home, but I didn’t have an easy time growing up. My father was very strict and, to be perfectly honest, he was a mean man. I was always amazed by how nicely he treated Mother and me when we were out in public. Everyone thought we had the perfect family. But they didn’t see what went on behind closed doors.”
“Sounds like we both got shortchanged on childhood,” I said. “So, yeah, like you said. Enjoy the little moments because they don’t last forever. Just like the fringes on your tree.”
Mary smiled. “That tree is probably my favorite spring-flowering tree. I love the Bradford pear trees lining the driveway and the weeping cherry trees circling the gazebo. And the dogwoods and saucer magnolias are pretty, too. But there’s something so dainty and fragile about a fringe tree. What’s your favorite tree, Rachel?”
