Книга - Our Fragile Hearts

Our Fragile Hearts
Buffy Andrews


‘a very well written story which will tug at your heartstrings.’ - Fiona WilsonThree lives. Three broken hearts…Piper loved her mommy. So when she loses her, her world is confused and sad. But she has Rachel now. She won’t leave her as well, will she?Rachel finds out she has a 5-year-old sister on the same day that she is told her mother has died. Having been in foster care for years, she never really knew her mom, but she knows for sure she doesn’t want the same thing for Piper. She knows she has to take care of her – but how?Mary never even got to see her baby. They took it away as soon as she gave birth. And the hole in her heart has never healed. So when she meets Rachel and Piper, two lost girls looking for a family, her broken heart skips a beat…What readers are saying about Our Fragile Hearts‘a lovely, heartwarming story about second chances’ – For the Love of Books‘Buffy Andrews has hit a homerun with Our Fragile Hearts and I just loved it!!’ – Sharon Kirchoff (Goodreads)‘This story is full of hope and love, and eventual peace. It is one to remember for a long time to come.’ – Jennifer (Goodreads)







Three lives. Three broken hearts…

Piper loved her mommy. So when she loses her, her world is confused and sad. But she has Rachel now. She won’t leave her as well, will she?

Rachel finds out she has a five-year-old sister on the same day that she is told her mother has died. Having been in foster care for years, she never really knew her mom, but she knows for sure she doesn’t want the same thing for Piper. She knows she has to take care of her – but how?

Mary never even got to see her baby. They took it away as soon as she gave birth. And the hole in her heart has never healed. So when she meets Rachel and Piper, two lost girls looking for a family, her broken heart skips a beat…


Also by Buffy Andrews (#ulink_2b962411-1146-5ba0-9a41-254c64b96606)

The Christmas Violin

The Moment Keeper

It’s in the Stars


Our Fragile Hearts

Buffy Andrews







Copyright (#ulink_316948e4-fb60-50ca-9e47-e3943f449382)

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016

Copyright © Buffy Andrews 2016

Buffy Andrews asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © May 2016 ISBN: 9781474054881

Version date: 2018-07-02


BUFFY ANDREWS

is an author, blogger and journalist.

She leads an award-winning staff at the York Daily Record/Sunday News, where she is Assistant Managing Editor of Social Media and Engagement.

In addition to her writing blog, Buffy’s Write Zone, she maintains a social media blog, Buffy’s World.



She is also a newspaper and magazine columnist and writes middle-grade, young adult and women’s fiction.

She lives in southcentral Pennsylvania with her husband, Tom; two sons, Zach and Micah; and wheaten cairn terrier, Kakita. She is grateful for their love and support and for reminding her of what’s most important in life.


Sometimes our heart breaks into a million pieces and we think it will never be whole again. But then a hand reaches out and steadies us and we know with all certainty that our fragile heart will heal.



I thank the hands that have steadied me during my darkest hours, the arms that have carried me when I was too weak to walk and the hearts that have saved me from brokenness and despair.


To wonderful friends who fill my life with love and laughter: Stacey Zambito, Shonna Cardello, Laura Schreiber, Renee Maderitz and Lilli Horn.



I love you girls!


Contents

Cover (#ue3226828-9305-528b-857b-93a5d4a37011)

Blurb (#ub263bb57-993e-5206-bde7-861dc5506687)

Book List (#u07aef43e-7407-55bc-a080-088e9a514514)

Title Page (#uc4bcac44-5438-5d51-ae38-25aa8f47536b)

Copyright (#ud8996649-176f-5c2e-a374-2fafc57355da)

Author Bio (#u0a328107-d770-5b9a-82ce-451c3561e65b)

Acknowledgements (#u63c5fe44-9456-5c13-8f27-a83262d5369c)

Dedication (#u4f419316-2b00-571d-8787-121f54d960a7)

Prologue (#u28060a64-d45d-500d-9464-276879228de1)

Chapter One (#ua7c7c32d-d3a9-507a-8610-f5709b7c0825)

Chapter Two (#uf9de71bc-3a65-503e-9710-84c6d1c58022)

Chapter Three (#ud13558e9-057c-5357-b2eb-5a9005f1cdfd)

Chapter Four (#u94fbb5f4-ed36-5299-8fec-297c3989da03)

Chapter Five (#u058d4e2b-98dc-579c-8aca-76e3bc190035)

Chapter Six (#ub79ed7b7-1759-5118-811c-62df423d8168)

Chapter Seven (#ue1751be1-32ed-5dfc-bb28-fdc2c45b1956)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Forty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher


Prologue (#ulink_ed20d488-21b6-5534-b474-ee800b13a84a)

Mary

June 30, 1957

I hate Mother. I hate Father. They’re sending me away. They said I brought shame to the family, that no decent man will want me. They have forbidden me to see Teddy. He doesn’t know I’m carrying his child. He thinks I don’t love him. My life is over.

Love, Mary Katherine

***

I lay in my hospital bed trying to remember. I remembered the cold, sterile delivery room and the doctors and nurses dressed in white and wearing masks. I remembered seeing the delivery table and the bassinet, the sterile towels and drapes and rubber gloves. I even remembered seeing the scissors and string the doctor would use to tie my baby’s umbilical cord.

But I didn’t remember seeing my baby.

I didn’t even know if I’d had a boy or a girl. The nurse had given me something for my pain, and when I woke up I was in this hospital room with another mother who had given birth to a stillborn. I listened to her cry for the child she’d lost. And she listened to me cry for the child I had but would never see.

My baby was in someone else’s arms. My father, who was an attorney, had arranged a private adoption. “You shamed our family,” he’d said. “Your baby is a bastard.”

So he sent me away to a strange place in a strange town where no one knew me and few, except for the other “troubled girls,” cared.

I was alone and sad and I wondered if I’d ever see Teddy again. Probably not after writing the letter my father had forced me to write. Father even read the letter afterward to make sure it said what he’d dictated. I was certain Teddy would hate me forever.

I heard my mother’s voice before I saw her. She was coming to take me home. I’d been in the hospital for days waiting for her.

“How’s Mary Katherine today?” She walked over and kissed my cheek as if she were greeting me after a week at church camp.

My chin wobbled and I could feel tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. “How could you?”

A flurry of emotion ripped through my broken body and I shook uncontrollably as I sobbed.

Mother patted my back, but her hand felt as hard as the wooden paddle she used on me when I misbehaved as a child. “It’s all over now. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Nothing will ever be fine, Mother. I wish I was dead.”

“Oh, now, Mary Katherine. You don’t mean that.”

I slammed my hand into the bed. “Stop telling me how I feel. You have no idea how I feel. You made me give up my baby.”

Mother sighed. “You can always have another one.”

I felt my anger boil in the pit of my stomach and it inched its way up and exploded in fits and bursts from my mouth. “I don’t want another one. I wanted this one.”

“Well, she’s gone.”

Tears stung my eyes and my mouth dropped open. “I had a daughter?”

Mother mashed her ruby lips together. “I don’t know if the baby was a boy or a girl.”

She was lying. I could tell by the red blotchiness spreading over her narrow neck. I had a daughter. And I knew that for the rest of my life, everywhere I went I’d look for her.

Would she have my blonde hair and blue eyes? Or Teddy’s dark hair and dark eyes?

I blew my nose into the tissues Mother had handed me. “Did he come?”

Mother shook her head. “Your father was too busy.”

“He’s always been too busy for me.”

“Now, Mary Katherine. You know your father cares about you.”

“Stop it. Stop making excuses for him. He’s never been anything but mean to me my entire life. And he’s been mean to you, too.”

Mother’s hand flew to her heart. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Stop. It’s not true.”

“It is, too. I’ve heard you crying at night when you think I’m asleep. I’ve seen the bruises on your arms and legs. He’s a tyrant and I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone.”

“He let me have you,” Mother said. “And a good family will get your baby and provide a wonderful life for her, just like I provided for you.”

“Yes, and just like me my baby will wonder why her birth mother didn’t want her. What kind of person gives their baby away to a total stranger?”

“A young girl who has her whole life ahead of her,” Mother said. “You know, it takes a lot of courage to give up your child.”

“Wrong, Mother. It takes a lot of courage to keep it and to ignore what others say behind your back.”

“But you’ve given your baby a chance to have a loving home.”

“Dear God, Mother. Father has brainwashed you.”

Mother sat on the chair next to my bed. “I’ve never met the woman who gave birth to you, Mary Katherine. I never wanted to. But if it hadn’t have been for her I’d never have become a mother. So, if your father gets a little angry sometimes, it doesn’t matter. I can deal with his anger, but I can’t deal with yours. So, please, stop. I don’t want to spend the entire trip home arguing.”

I didn’t want to spend it arguing either. I was too tired and all I wanted was to get as far away as possible from this hospital and the maternity house where I’d spent the last seven months. I wanted to sleep in my own bed in my own room.

Mother handed me a bag containing the clothes she’d brought me. “Would you like me to help you dress?”

I took the bag. “No. I’d like for you to leave while I get dressed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

I pulled out a black poodle skirt and white blouse. I undressed, rubbing my hand over my abdomen, which had been as big as a beach ball only days before. I wondered if I’d ever feel the tickle of a baby growing inside of me again. If I’d ever feel the tiny fist poking at me from the inside out. I pulled on the poodle skirt that thankfully Mother had bought in a larger size. I buttoned the blouse and tied a black scarf around my neck. I brushed my hair back and put it into a ponytail. I looked into the mirror. The girl staring back at me looked like the one who’d snuck out of the house more than a year ago to meet Teddy. But it wasn’t the same girl. That girl was gone and I knew she would never come back.


Chapter 1 (#ulink_cd6b0248-28b6-5fb7-b578-d77f4051ca73)

Rachel

“Come on, Piper. Hurry up and finish your cereal. You don’t want to be late for your first day of kindergarten.”

Piper shrugged her boney shoulders. “Why can’t I stay home with you, Rachel?”

“Because you have to go to school. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. Besides, you’re always playing school with your dolls; now you get to go to school for real.”

“But what if I don’t like it?” Piper shoveled a spoonful of cereal into her tiny mouth.

“You will. You’ll make new friends.” I filled my coffee mug.

“But what if they don’t like me?”

I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “They will. What’s there not to like about you?”

“Daniel said I look funny.”

“Well, you tell Daniel he looks funnier. Besides, what does he know?”

Piper’s blue eyes widened. “Daniel’s the smartest kid in daycare. He reads books and he knows every single dinosaur.”

I brushed back Piper’s blonde hair. “You’re smart, too. You know way more than I did when I was your age.”

“How old are you?

“How old do you think I am?”

Piper chewed her lip and squinted. “Fifty!”

I spit out the coffee I’d just sipped. “Fifty! No! Twenty-two. I was eighteen when you were born.”

“That’s old.”

“Thanks.”

“But not as old as mommy, right?”

“Right.”

Piper scrunched her freckled nose. “Are you going to be there when the bus brings me home?”

I sat down across from Piper and looked into her eyes. “Yes, I told you I will meet you at the bus stop this afternoon.”

“Mommy said she’d pick me up at daycare but she never did.”

“That’s because she was dead.” As soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth I wanted to stuff them back inside. But it was too late. I have this habit of saying what I’m thinking out loud. It was never a problem before Piper came into my life. I didn’t even know I had a sister until Linda… er, my mom from whom I’d been estranged… died. And now that I’m trying to raise Piper on my own, something I’ve only been doing for a few months, I’m drowning in this new territory, saying things out loud that I shouldn’t and making Piper sad.

Believe me, being a parent is the last thing I wanted, but I hated the alternative even more – putting Piper in foster care. I knew what that was like. I’d spent my childhood in and out of foster homes. I’ll never forget the day I was taken from my home for the first time. I was about Piper’s age and I came home from school to find a strange lady and two policemen at the apartment. Mom was sitting on the couch surrounded by empty bottles of vodka. Her hair was messy and she smelled like she’d been rooting around in the dumpster outside.

“Hi, Rachel,” the tall lady in the black pants and jacket had said. “My name is Miss Helen and I’m going to take you to another place to live for a while.”

“But what about Mommy?”

“We are going to get your mommy some help. And while she’s getting help, you’ll live with a wonderful woman. Her name is Miss Evelyn and she lives in a big house on the other side of town. Is that all right with you?”

I’d bitten my lower lip. “Will she feed me?”

“Yes, of course she’ll feed you. And she’ll make sure you get a bath and brush your hair and help you with your schoolwork. And when your mommy is better, you can come back here to live.”

I loved Miss Evelyn. Her home was the only home I ever felt safe in. It’s also where I met my best friend, Claire. She came to live with Miss Evelyn about a month after I did. We both wished we could live with her forever.

I looked at Piper. Her blue eyes turned glassy and her heart-shaped chin wobbled.

“Sorry, Piper. That came out wrong. I’ll be at the bus stop when you come home. Promise.”

Piper didn’t ask any more questions and managed to finish most of her cereal before we headed for the bus stop in front of the entrance to our apartment complex. I definitely felt out of place standing beside all of the moms and dads. I kept hearing in my head, “One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn’t belong.”

Me, that’s who. I didn’t belong. I had a life. A decent life before I got the phone call that changed it forever.

I watched as parents pulled out their cellphones to take first-day-of-school photos. I imagined Facebook feeds inundated with photos marking the special event. I didn’t want Piper to feel different or any less special, so I pulled out my phone and took a picture of her. I remembered my first day of school. Mom sent me to the bus stop – alone. She was nursing a hangover and never made it off the couch. She was everything a mom shouldn’t be. Her drinking only got worse the older I got. She went into rehab when I left and got sober. Then Piper came along. A new beginning. She had a chance to be the kind of mom she should’ve been to me. Only it didn’t last. Good things rarely do.

Piper tugged on my shirt. I looked down. “What?”

“I have to pee.”

I sighed. “Really? You can’t hold it?”

She shook her head and her blonde curls bounced.

“Come on.” I grabbed her hand and turned to walk back to the apartment. Just then I heard the bus screech as it rounded the corner. I was not happy. I had to get to work and now I’d have to take Piper to school.

“I told you to go to the potty before we left.”

“I didn’t have to go then.”

I opened our apartment door and marched her inside. “Go.”

“And then I can stay home with you, right?”

I counted to ten, trying to keep myself from blowing up. “No, you can’t. You have to go to school. It’s the law. If you don’t go to school, I’ll get in trouble. Now go pee so we can go.”

“I don’t have to pee anymore.”

“Damn it, Piper!”

She folded her arms. “You said a bad word.”

“And I’m going to say more bad words if you ever pull another stunt like this again.”

I grabbed my keys and purse and marched her out to the car. Piper squirmed in her seat as I yanked the seatbelt and buckled her in, tugging on the strap to make sure it was secure.

I was so mad that I didn’t talk for the first mile. But then I started to feel bad because I really wanted Piper to have a good first day and it’d started out all wrong. I looked over at her. “Sorry, Piper. Look. Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t tell me you have to pee when you really don’t. I know you’re worried about school but I think you’ll like it. You’re smart and friendly and you color better than any five-year-old I know. I’ll be at the bus stop when you come home. Promise.”

Piper sniffed. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

I reached over and patted her shoulder. “I know you didn’t, but when you do stuff like that it makes my life more difficult. And it’s difficult enough.”

“Sorry, Rachel.”

“So you’re not going to lie ever again, right?”

Piper nodded.

“Remember the story I told you about the little boy who cried wolf? When a real wolf came, no one believed him because he’d lied so many times before. Don’t be like that little boy. Don’t tell me you have to pee when you don’t.”

Piper squirmed in her seat. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I pulled into the school parking lot, busy with buses pulling in and out. I found a spot near the playground. “Look at the swings and the slide and monkey bars. They look like fun.”

Piper peeked out of the window in the direction I’d pointed. Her tiny bow lips curved slightly upward. “Maybe I can swing today.”

I patted her knee. “Maybe. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun surprises today. Ready?”

She nodded and I got out of the car and walked around to her side and opened the door. She crawled out and I helped her put on her Pink Princess backpack, positioning the glittery straps over her narrow shoulders. We’d started walking toward the main entrance when I felt her delicate hand brush against mine. I wrapped my fingers around hers and we walked hand in hand into the building.

The office was bustling with parents coming and going. We stood in line behind a tall man in a suit and a girl who looked to be about Piper’s age. The girl stared at Piper, her black eyes swallowing her pretty face. She flashed a bright white smile at Piper and Piper turned toward me, mushing her tiny body against my leg. I smiled. “Hi. What’s your name?”

She mashed her lips together as if she was trying to keep from talking.

The man she was with turned around and smiled. “Go ahead, tell the nice lady what your name is.”

She looked up at the man, the tiny black braids hugging her head flopping about.

He arched his eyebrows and nodded. “Don’t be rude. Answer the mother’s question.”

I gasped. It wasn’t the first time I’d been mistaken for Piper’s mother, but it still made me catch my breath, especially since the last time had ended in Piper having a meltdown.

“I’m not her mother,” I explained. “I’m her sister.”

The man extended his hand. “My apologies. This is Jacy.” He patted the girl on her shoulder. And I’m Marcus.”

I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Rachel and this is Piper.”

“I like your hair,” Piper told Jacy.

Jacy smiled. “I like yours, too.”

By luck, it turned out the girls had the same teacher and an aide came to take them to their room. I squatted so I was eye to eye with Piper. “Now remember to keep your special ID necklace on. That way the helpers can make sure you get on the right bus.”

“And you’ll be at the bus stop, right?”

“Right. Just like I promised.”

Marcus smiled and we watched the girls walk with the aide. Jacy reached over and took Piper’s hand.

“It looks like the girls made at least one new friend today,” I said.

Marcus smiled. “That’s good. Jacy was worried she wouldn’t make any friends.”

“Piper, too. I’m glad we ended up in line behind you.”

Marcus and I walked out of the school building together, exchanging some more small talk about the weather. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my purse and read the text. It was from Claire.

Free tonight? How about happy hour at White Rose?

I texted back.

Can’t. Piper’s first day of school.

She responded.

K. Another time maybe? Miss you!

Yeah, sure, I thought. Another time. But we both knew there probably wouldn’t be another time. I had Piper now. Everything was different. I exhaled a heavy sigh. I missed my old life, the one where I was attending college and bartending at Jack’s. I was only a few classes shy of earning my social work degree when I learned Mom had died. So I dropped out of college, hoping to return one day, and scrambled to find a day job so I could take care of Piper.

Mom’s best friend, Judy, who had tracked me down when Mom died, hooked me up with a cleaning agency. She knew the owner, who was looking for help. I wasn’t crazy about cleaning, but the money was good and I could work around Piper’s schedule. I needed that kind of flexibility.

I looked into my rearview mirror and put the car in reverse, slowly pulling out. Damn, Mom, I thought. Why’d you have to die?

I hadn’t realized how expensive it was to raise a child. Mom left us a few dollars in her bank account, barely enough to cover the cost of her funeral. And who knew when we’d have enough to buy her a tombstone. Probably never. I hate saying this, but it wasn’t at the top of my shopping list. There were too many other things we needed. Or rather Piper needed. Shoes. Clothing. And food.

The traffic was backed up from an accident and it was taking me longer to get to my cleaning job than I’d planned. I was at a standstill between exits on the interstate so I called Claire. When she answered, I could tell by the sound of her voice she was still in bed. “I thought you’d be up by now.”

“Are you kidding me?” She yawned. “You know I don’t get up before noon unless I have to. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, guess I just forgot. Hard to believe that was me a few months ago.”

Claire laughed. “Next thing you know you’ll be driving a minivan.”

I’m not sure what came over me but I burst into tears. I sobbed so hard that I could barely see out my front window. Between the rain, which had just started, and my tears, the world was one big blur.

“Rachel, I’m sorry,” Claire shouted. “I didn’t mean it. Honest.”

I sniffed. “It’s okay. You’re right. I’m like a fifty-year-old stuck in a twenty-two-year-old body.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad,” Claire said. “I tell you what. You get a date and I’ll watch Piper. I’ll even come to your apartment so I can put her to bed and you can come home whenever.”

“First, I have to get a date. And the chances of that are slim considering my life revolves around Piper. There’s no time for anything else. I can’t even go for a run anymore.”

“Why?” Claire said. “Have Piper ride her bike alongside you.”

I sighed. “She doesn’t have a bike.”

“What? No bike? What kid doesn’t have a bike?”

“This kid. Look, I’m okay. Sorry for the meltdown. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. I’ll get over it. I have to go. I’m cleaning Howard’s house today.”

“The hoarder?”

“Yes. It seems every week the junk in his house multiplies like my credit card debt. I convince him to trash a pile of newspapers he’s had for a decade and another pile appears. I’ll never understand how someone can live like that.”

We hung up and when I walked into Howard’s house I found him at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. The tiny patch of white hair on top of his head stood straight up. The white hair growing out of his ears resembled wiry rabbit whiskers. He looked out over his thick black reading glasses perched on the tip of his broad nose. “Good morning,” he muttered.

I threw my purse on the kitchen counter, taking up the last piece of vacant real estate. “Hi, Howard. You look well today.”

He muttered something that sounded like a cross between a thank you and a “I know you’re lying just to be nice” comment.

“Anything special you’d like me to tackle today?” I noticed a new stack of travel magazines had sprouted under the table, leaving Howard with a tiny square space for his feet.

He didn’t look up from the newspaper. “Nope. Same as usual.”

“You know, Howard, you should consider getting rid of some of your junk… er, stuff. It’d make it easier to clean.”

He didn’t answer.

“When I moved I donated a lot of things to the thrift store. They were happy to have them. You could do the same. Perhaps your daughter would help you.”

He sucked in a bucket of air and exhaled it slowly through his noticeably chapped lips. “Margaret? I haven’t seen Margaret in weeks.”

“Isn’t that odd? Don’t you usually see her every week?”

“Not since she’s taken up with that bozo. She brought him here a while back and he didn’t impress me none. Sells insurance or something. Wanted to sell me some. I told him I had enough.”

“Well, okay then. But I’d bet Margaret would help if you asked her.”

Howard turned the newspaper page. “She’d want something for her trouble. She always does.”

I wished I hadn’t brought up Margaret’s name. Howard was becoming more belligerent by the moment. “Well, I’d better get started.”

He muttered as I slid away, following the curved path flanked on either side by junk that reached the ceiling, toward the bathroom.


Chapter 2 (#ulink_5ac4a408-a037-573c-a13b-aab164f13d47)

Mary

I made a cup of Earl Grey and called a cleaning agency to see about getting some help. I’d finally broken down after all these years and decided it was time. It’s not that I couldn’t afford to hire help; it was a matter of pride, I suppose. I’d lived in this house for more than fifty years and had always been able to take care of it. Inside and out. But I couldn’t any longer. It’d been in James’s family for more than a century. I thought we’d have children and that we’d pass it on to them. But that was before I knew about James.

I remembered the first time I’d seen this house. It was the most beautiful house I’d ever been in. Grander than I’d even imagined it would be. Mahogany and marble. Rooms full of antiques. Rich tapestries and the finest accessories. It seemed such a shame that a successful man like James lived alone in this big old house. His parents, whom he had lived with, had died in a tragic car accident the year before.

James and I had been dating a few months. He was my father’s business partner and to please my father and keep peace in the house, I agreed to date James. He was twenty-five years older than me and nice enough, but he wasn’t Teddy. I never felt any tingle when I was with James like I felt when I was with Teddy.

Anyway, James had taken me on a tour of the house. When we got to the master bedroom, I thought maybe he’d want to do more than kiss. That’s all we ever did and I was beginning to think he might want to do a little more. But he didn’t. He just continued to show me the house. I thought he was such a gentleman, not taking advantage of me when he clearly could have. And despite not loving him, my respect for him grew.

As James led me on a tour, I began to imagine living in the house. I thought about what colors I’d paint the walls and how I’d decorate the rooms. Which room would be the best one for the nursery. Surely the one closest to the master bedroom. By the time we’d finished the tour, I had completely renovated the house and the grounds in my mind.

I smiled at the distant memories, trying to remember details that had faded over time. After I finished talking to the manager at the cleaning agency, I picked up the morning paper and walked into the solarium. This had become my morning routine. I did some volunteering a few days a week and kept a couple days open for appointments. Today was an appointment day. I’d scheduled my annual check-up with my ob-gyn today. It was hard to believe at my age I still had to get regular check-ups.

I sat down on my easy chair facing the large window that looked out over the beautiful gardens, filled with all my favorite trees and shrubs and flowers. The day was bright and sunny and I noticed a few birds eating from the feeder I’d placed near the window. I opened the paper to the obituary page. It was always the first page I read, mostly because it seemed like more and more people I knew were ending up there.

I scanned the names on the page. When I saw June’s name, I gasped. June was my best friend growing up. We’d lost touch years ago when Mother and Father sent me away to a maternity house to live with other young girls who had “got themselves in trouble.” June was the one who’d introduced me to Teddy, the only man I’d ever loved.

I walked over to the antique cherry sideboard sitting in the corner and opened the door. I reached in and took out my old diary. I patted the red and gold faux leather journal. Every once in a while I’d pull it out and read the entries I’d made a lifetime ago. It made me sad to remember what could’ve been so I didn’t do it often, but seeing June’s obituary stirred a need to remember that sliver of my past.

I’d never been happier than when I was with Teddy. He was the only man I ever loved and the only man I’d ever been with. Even after James died twenty years ago, I couldn’t bring myself to date. Oh, there were plenty of invites, but I felt it was too late for love. It was too late for a lot of things now. Like motherhood.

I opened my diary and began to read:

July 13, 1956

Dear Diary,

I saw you while Mother and I were shopping in the department store and begged her to buy you for me. My best friend, June, has a diary and I wanted one, too. It seems like every girl should have a diary, a place to share our secrets. I’ll have to keep you locked and hidden because Mother is nosey and sometimes goes through my things. I wish I had a brother or sister, someone else to share the burden of having a mother such as mine. She never lets me do anything. I’m the only girl I know who can’t date until she’s eighteen. But I have a plan. I’m going to sneak out of the house and meet June and Henry, who will park down the street and around the corner. Henry is June’s boyfriend. He’s a senior in prep school. Henry’s bringing a friend. My first date! I’ll let you know how it goes. I wonder if he’ll kiss me. I’ve never been kissed.

Love, Mary Katherine

I closed my tired eyes. I’d never forgotten the first time I saw Teddy. He wore a leather jacket, white T-shirt and jeans. And he was smoking. Chesterfields, I think. My heart fluttered just remembering the blind date. We went to the drive-in to see The King and I. Teddy and I sat in the back seat and he put his arm around me. He whispered in my ear and told me to relax. When I saw June put her head on Henry’s shoulder, I put mine on Teddy’s. It felt nice.

When Henry dropped June and I off, Teddy got out of the car. I remember standing on my tiptoes and stretching up and him leaning down. And then we kissed. I will never forget my first kiss and the way it made me feel like I was being tickled from the inside.

I flipped through the entries, reading no one in particular.



July 24, 1956

Dear Diary,

Mother and Father went to see Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis at the Copacabana Club so Teddy came to the house and picked me up in his T-bird. We went to the malt shop and Teddy bought me a vanilla shake. Then we drove around and Teddy took me to Lovers’ Point. We kissed. A lot. I like kissing Teddy, but I think he wants to do more. He started to unbutton my blouse but I stopped him. I’ll have to ask June what to do.

Love, Mary Katherine

August 4, 1956

Dear Diary,

I love Elvis’s new song, “Hound Dog.” Mother and Father don’t like his music. They prefer listening to Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald or Doris Day. Mother won’t stop singing “Que Sera, Sera.”

I didn’t get to see Teddy for a couple of days because he went with his parents to visit relatives in Maine. But he’s coming back tomorrow and I can’t wait. I might let him take my blouse off if he still wants to.

Love, Mary Katherine

August 22, 1956

Dear Diary,

Father and Mother are celebrating President Eisenhower and Vice President Nixon’s nomination for a second term in office. It’s all so boring if you ask me. Who cares about the Republican National Convention anyway? I’d much rather think about Teddy.

Love, Mary Katherine

September 9, 1956

Dear Diary,

June and I watched Elvis on “The Ed Sullivan Show.” When he sang “Love Me Tender” I thought I was going faint.

Mother walked in while he was performing “Ready Teddy” and yelled for Father. They were outraged by the way Elvis shook his hips, but June and I liked it.

I can’t wait until tomorrow. Teddy and I are going to our special place. It’s so special that I can’t even tell you. It’s tippy top secret. I talked to June and I think I’m ready to go the whole way with Teddy. I know he wants to even though he said he’ll wait. But he’s headed back to school and I don’t want to wait any longer. I just hope it doesn’t hurt like June said.

Love, Mary Katherine

I closed my diary and leaned back on the easy chair. I closed my eyes and pictured my and Teddy’s special place. It was in an abandoned cabin in the woods. Teddy was so gentle and made me feel so special. And even though it hurt, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had imagined it would be. I lay in his arms a long time afterward and we talked about our dreams.

“So what do you want to be when you grow up?” I had asked.

He kissed the top of my head. “Your husband.”

I sat up and leaned down until I was staring him in the face. “Do you mean that?”

He lifted his head and kissed me. “Of course I mean it. You know I’ve never met anyone like you before. I’m crazy about you.”

I smiled and we kissed some more.

I lay back down. “So, besides my husband, what do you want to be?”

“Maybe a lawyer.”

“I hate lawyers,” I spit out.

“That’s only because your father is a lawyer and you hate him.”

“True. But I could never hate you.”

“So, what do you want to be, Mary?”

“A mother. I’ve always wanted to have lots of children. Five or six.”

“Five or six? That’s a lot of children. How about three? Maybe I’ll let you talk me into four.”

Teddy and I had agreed on four children that night and he never learned, as far as I knew, that I had one of them.


Chapter 3 (#ulink_232cd435-b3ba-5c1b-ac6c-2fd405fe4726)

Rachel

After I left Howard’s house, I stopped by the cleaning agency to ask for more work. I figured I could fit in another job and sort of hoped that maybe I could find someone to replace Howard. Cleaning his bathroom made me want to vomit. He’d left a pile of yellowed toenail clippings by the toilet, which looked like it hadn’t been flushed in days.

“One just came in,” Annie said. “An older woman. She sounded really nice. Said cleaning her house is just getting to be too much for her.”

Annie wrote down the information and handed the slip of paper to me. I looked at the name and address she’d written. “Mary McAlaster. Three forty-five Berkshire Drive.” I looked at Annie. “Isn’t this that ritzy area on top of the hill across from the college?”

Annie smiled. “Yes. Those homes are big so probably count on a full day.”

I left the agency and stopped at Jack’s Bar. I’d promised Claire I’d drop off the dress she’d let me borrow back when I actually had a life and went on dates. The Before Piper era. I figured I’d see Nick. He usually stopped in for Wednesday’s wing special before heading to his second-shift job at the Harley plant. He built motorcycles and loved riding them. He promised to take me for a ride, but that was before Piper came into my life and turned it upside down. I didn’t blame her, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have moments of resentment.

The bar, located in the neighborhood where I used to live, had its regulars. Nick, a few years older than me, was one of them. I missed bartending at Jack’s. The bar, with its exposed brick walls and creaky wooden floor, wasn’t much to look at but it had a charm all its own. Despite feeling like I was working in a cave, with its lack of natural light, I’d spent more time at Jack’s than I had anywhere else, except college, in the past two years. I was grateful that when I needed a job, Jack had given me one. And he always worked around my class schedule.

As soon as I walked in the door, I saw Nick in his usual seat chewing on wings. He nodded. I waved to Claire, who was slicing limes behind the bar, and slid into the stool next to Nick. “I thought maybe I’d find you here.”

Nick smiled. “Guess I’m a creature of habit.”

Secretly, I liked Nick. His appearance was always a bit messy, but it worked for him. I liked his tousled brown hair, five o-clock shadow, tight gray T-shirt and jeans. And his eyes. His chocolate-colored eyes were like exclamation points at the end of a really great sentence. Come with me! Don’t go! I love you!

Claire walked over, wiping her hands on a white rag. I handed her the bag containing her dress. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to hold on to it?”

I laughed. “Like I’m going to need a dress like that anytime soon. My dating days are over.”

“Yeah, right,” Claire said. “I’m ninety-nine point six percent certain you’ll date again.”

I laughed. Claire always had to look at things in terms of percentages. It was annoying yet somewhat charming. I’m sixty-six percent sure your bread is moldy or I’m eighty-nine percent certain you already bought that shade of nail polish, she’d say. She was the only person I knew who had this peculiar habit. And if I were a betting girl, I’d have listened to her. She was right ninety-nine point nine percent of the time!

Nick picked up a paper towel and wiped off his messy hands. Whenever he ate wings, we knew to pile a half-dozen paper towels on the bar beside him. He hated using napkins. Said they were too thin and always ripped. He took a sip of his beer. “It would be a damn shame if you never dated again, Rachel.”

I have to admit my heart fluttered. I caught Claire’s glance out of the corner of my eye. She knew I thought Nick was sexy. “Why would it be a shame?” I asked.

He shrugged. “You just seem like the type of girl who should have someone special. Settle down. Have kids.”

I held up my hand. “Stop! No kids. I have a kid now and I never want another one.”

“Piper is your sister,” Nick said. “That’s not exactly the same thing.”

I could feel my anger begin to boil. “The hell it isn’t. Who’s raising her? Me. Who gets up in the middle of the night to calm her after a bad dream? Me. Who buys her clothes and food and pretty barrettes? Me. Who takes care of her when she’s sick?”

“Okay. Okay.” Nick held up both hands. “I take it back. I guess you’re a special case.”

“I’m a special case, all right.” I rolled my eyes.

“Look,” Claire said. “I know it’s hard raising Piper and I know it’s not what you planned. But you are doing an amazing job. You know what foster care was like for us. Besides Miss Evelyn, you and I ended up in some pretty crappy places.”

Claire was right. We’d both loved living with Miss Evelyn, but the other homes we’d been placed in weren’t much better than the ones we’d come from, especially the Jordans. They had an older boy and he always wanted to see my private parts. He paid me a nickel to show him and I did it. He never touched me, he just looked. I saved the nickels and, when I had enough, bought a candy bar. Then, one night, Jordan came into my room and he wanted to do more than look. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“You’re giving her a much better home than she would’ve had otherwise,” Claire said.

“I know, I know. It’s just that it’s so hard. I miss my old life.”

“So get some of it back,” Claire said. “Just because you’re Piper’s guardian doesn’t mean you have to give up everything. If you want to go out on a date, get a babysitter.”

I shook my head. “Not now. Maybe in time. Piper is too anxious. I think she’s afraid I’m going to leave her like Mom. She follows me around the house like a puppy. She wants to be in whatever room I’m in. I miss my privacy.”

Claire cleared away Nick’s plates. “Anything else?”

He shook his head. He finished his beer and pushed the pint glass toward Claire. Claire picked up the glass and put it in the small dishwasher behind the bar.

Nick shifted in his stool so he was turned toward me. “Claire’s right, you know? It’s great what you’re doing for Piper. But that doesn’t mean you can’t date.”

“Who’s going to want to date someone that has this kind of baggage? I wouldn’t.”

“I see your point,” Claire said. “But you never know.”

“Yeah, you never know,” Nick said.

The alert on my phone sounded. “I have to go. I promised Piper I’d meet her at the bus stop.” I slid off the bar stool and grabbed my purse. “Thanks again, Claire, for letting me borrow the dress.”

“Anytime. I miss you!”

“I miss you, too.”

Nick ran his fingers through his hair. “Later, Rachel. Take care of the kid. And yourself.”

“Thanks.” I walked out the door and climbed into my car. I heard the text alert on my phone and pulled it out of my purse. Claire had texted me. Nick watched you leave.

I texted back a smiley face emoticon.

I pulled up to the bus stop and parked. I’d planned on parking at our apartment and walking up to the stop, but the traffic was heavier than I thought it’d be and there wasn’t enough time. I got out of the car and walked up to the corner behind a woman pushing a stroller and talking on a cellphone. Two moms were chatting about a TV show and a dad was trying to keep his toddler content by tossing a plastic ball with him. The stroller mom stopped beside me. I heard her say goodbye.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Heather.”

I held out my hand. “Rachel.”

“I’m not looking forward to filling out all the paperwork tonight, are you?”

“Paperwork?”

“Oh, this is your first, huh?”

She didn’t wait for me to reply but jumped right into the next sentence. “There’s always a ton of paperwork to fill out on the first day. I hate it and of course my husband doesn’t want to be bothered so that means it’s all on me. With two kids in school now that’s double the paperwork. Ugh!”

Just as she finished her lament, the bus turned into the apartment complex. The guy tossing the ball with the toddler picked up the boy. The women discussing the TV show stopped talking. All eyes were on the bus as it came to a screeching halt. The kids tumbled out of the door and ran into open arms. A little girl bounced over to Heather and hugged her baby sister and then her mom. Twin boys ran to one of the moms who’d been talking TV only seconds before. Soon every parent had a kid – except me.

My heart started to race. Thump! Thump! Thump! I hated that I felt so parental. I didn’t want to be. I wanted to be the carefree twenty-two-year-old I was three months ago. What was wrong with me? Just as I was about to peek inside the bus and talk to the driver, Piper appeared.

Her cheeks were blotchy and red. She’d been crying. When she saw me, a smile erupted on her face. “You came!”

She ran to me, dropped her backpack and threw her arms around my waist.

“Of course, Pipe. I told you I’d be here when you came home.”

I caught a few smiles from other parents as they glanced in our direction.

I rubbed the top of Piper’s head. She squeezed my waist so tightly I couldn’t move. “Are you ready to go home?”

She let go of my waist and nodded. “It took a long time for that bus to come and get me.”

Piper said the funniest things and I couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go home and you can tell me all about it.”

Piper emptied her backpack onto the kitchen table. Heather was right. There was a ton of paperwork to fill out. I sorted through the papers while Piper ate a bowl of cereal.

“So, did you like school?”

Piper shook her head while continuing to shovel cereal into her mouth as if she were afraid someone would take the bowl away if she stopped.

“What did you eat in school?”

“Nuggets.”

I looked at the school menu. It was the only blue paper in Piper’s stack. “Oh, you like chicken nuggets.”

Piper scrunched her freckled nose. “Their nuggets tasted funny.”

I looked at the menu. “What about the pudding? You were supposed to have pudding. Did you like that?”

“I like Mommy’s pudding. She puts whipped cream on top. I asked for whipped cream but they didn’t have any.”

I decided that perhaps food wasn’t a great topic. “I bet you made a lot of new friends.”

She shook her head.

“Oh, come on. You met Jacy.”

Finally, a smile. I mentioned Jacy and Piper’s face lit up like a slot machine when the jackpot’s won.

“Jacy and I sat at the same table. Mrs. Baker picked us to be line leaders when we walked to the cafeteria. And we swung together at recess.”

Piper finished her cereal and I listened as she told me all about Jacy. I learned Jacy could read an entire book, could go the whole way across the monkey bars without falling and didn’t have any brothers or sisters but a dog named Winnie the Poodle.

“Winnie the Poodle?”

Piper nodded. “Yep. It’s a poodle and she likes Winnie the Pooh. Winnie the Poodle. Get it?”

I smiled. “Then that’s a great name.”

“I wish I could have a dog,” Piper said.

I looked up from the health information sheet I was trying to fill out. It’s really hard to fill out a questionnaire about someone’s health when you’ve only know the person for a few months. “Pipe, we talked about this. No animals. They’re too expensive. There’s shots and vet visits, not to mention food.”

Piper’s face deflated like a balloon popped with a pin. Poof! The happiness gone in an instant. “When I get older I’m going to get a dog. I’ll name her Linda.”

Piper’s chin wobbled and her eyes filled with tears. I knew a storm was brewing in her head and buckets of tears were about to rain down her cheeks. Still, I wasn’t about to agree to a dog. “Come here,” I said.

She slid out of her chair and walked to me. I looked into her eyes and brushed her hair back off her face. “I’m not saying you can’t have a dog because I’m trying to be mean. We just really can’t afford it right now.”

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?”

“I like willow trees. My neighbor had a willow tree in her backyard and we used to play under its draping branches. The shade was nice, especially on a really hot day.”

Mary shifted on the sofa. “Willow trees always reminded me of umbrellas. Or fireworks. What do they remind you of, Rachel?”

“Pom-poms. Like the kind cheerleaders use.”

Mary arched her thin eyebrows, which had been noticeably filled in with brow pencil. “So you were a cheerleader?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fat chance. But I wanted to be. Never made the team. I’m about as coordinated as a moose walking in high heels.”

Mary laughed and returned to talking about trees. “Have you ever seen the giant sequoias in California?”

I shook my head. “I’ve never been outside of Pennsylvania.”

“My, are they big! And old. Thousands of years old.”

Mary’s eyes turned glassy and I wondered if I should change the subject. But she continued.

“Flies might live for days, tortoises and whales for hundreds of years, and trees, like the giant sequoias, for thousands of years. But eventually, they all die. No living thing, no animal or plant, can escape death.”

I listened as Mary poured some more tea. I wondered where she was going with this.

“So often in life we witness beauty too short-lived. Like the fringe tree. We wonder why the fringes can’t hang forever. Maybe what we should ask is why we didn’t enjoy the beauty while we had the chance.”

I mashed my lips together, considering whether to wade into the conversation. “It’s human nature, I think, to believe there’ll always be another day.”

“True,” Mary said. “But sometimes there isn’t. Sometimes wicked weather slams us unexpectedly and we’re caught off guard, standing in the drenching rain and rising water. Oh, I know everything in life has its own season – a time to be born and a time to die. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing the seasons could last longer.”

I sat my teacup on the cherry coffee table. Mary was making me uncomfortable. It was as if she was delivering a sermon meant just for me.

“Would you like more, dear?”

“No, thank you.”

“Rachel, I’m sorry. Sometimes I get carried away in poetic mumbo jumbo. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.”

I held up my hand. “No. You’re fine. Everything’s fine. It’s just that I thought you wanted me to clean.”

“Another day. But today I just wanted to talk, to get to know you a little. Can you come tomorrow to clean?”

“I’m sorry. I have another house to clean tomorrow.”

“Can you come the next day?”

I checked the calendar on my phone. “Yes, that will work.”

“Excellent. We can have lunch together.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. Mary looked like she was about to cry.

“Unless you want to, of course,” I quickly added.

“Well, you have to eat, right?”

I nodded. “But please don’t go to a lot of trouble.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. It’ll be nice cooking for someone for a change. Do you like tilapia?”

“That’s fish, right? I don’t like fish.”

“Oh, you must try tilapia sometime,” Mary said. “It’s mild. Doesn’t have that strong fishy taste. What’s your favorite food?”

“That’s easy. Steak. But I rarely have it because it’s so expensive. I eat a lot of pasta and hamburgers.”

Mary nodded. “I like steak, too. What’s Piper’s favorite food?”

“Pizza and chicken nuggets.”

Mary smiled. “I’ll have to have you and Piper to dinner some evening. I’d like to meet her.”

I held up my hand. “That won’t be necessary.”

Mary’s shoulders sank and her smile flat-lined.

Darn, I did it again. Said something before thinking. “I mean, I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

Mary shook her head. “It wouldn’t be any trouble. Besides, I’d enjoy the company. I hate eating alone.”

“Before Piper came along, I always ate alone. I miss it sometimes.” I looked away, thinking about how I divided my life into two eras, Before Piper and After Piper. I was struggling with the After part.

Mary poured some more tea. “Do you like to cook?”

I laughed. “No! If I could take a pill that had all the nutrients I needed to be healthy I would. I think I was the only kid in my seventh-grade cooking class that burnt the sticky buns. After that, the teacher made sure I was with a more skilled student. Before Piper, I pretty much ate whatever came out of a can or a box. But now I try to cook. For Piper. But she’s sneaky. She hates vegetables.”

Mary sipped her tea. “Was Piper excited for the first day of school?”

“She was scared,” I said. “Afraid she wouldn’t make any friends. But when I dropped her off at school, she met a girl in her class. They became fast friends.”

We talked some more about everything and nothing. I glanced at the antique cherry grandfather clock sitting in the corner. “I’d better go. I have some errands to run before Piper comes home.”

I stood.

“So you’ll come again on Friday, right?” Mary stood.

I nodded.

Mary walked me to the door. “Thank you, Rachel.”

I furrowed my brows. “For what?”

“For listening.”

As I drove away I glanced into my rearview mirror. Mary waved from the crack of the front door. I wondered what she was going to do the rest of the day. It made me sad to think she was all alone in that big old house. It was obvious she loved children and I wondered why she apparently had none.


Chapter 6 (#ulink_3ece85ec-4fd2-5c49-9981-2315fac7907e)

Mary

I watched as Rachel pulled away from the house. I really liked her. It sounded like the poor girl had had it even worse growing up than I did. I’ve always been a decent judge of character, and she seemed like a hard worker. It was a shame she’d had to drop out of college, though. But I admired her for giving up her dreams to take care of her little sister.

And it was nice that she and Claire had maintained their friendship. I wished June and I had. It bothered me that I allowed us to drift apart. We chatted off and on over the years, but it was never the same. Life sometimes unfolds in ways we’d rather it didn’t, and before you know it too much time has passed to go back to the ways things were.

I carried the tea set into the kitchen and washed the dishes. Then I sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out the paperwork I’d picked up at the hospital. I had to fill it out and return it in order to volunteer in the neonatal intensive care unit. I learned that when nurses are busy with other patients and parents cannot make it to the hospital, volunteers step in. They hold the babies, sing and coo to them, rock them and treat them as if they were their own. It sounded like a volunteer position I’d love. But first, I had to fill out the paperwork and undergo a thorough background check. I hoped it wouldn’t take long because, after seeing the teeny tiny babies in the NICU, I wanted to be able to help right away.

I knew James couldn’t have children. He’d told me that the day he proposed to me. We were sitting on the bench in front of the fringe tree.

“Mary,” he had said. “We’ve been going out for months and I know you don’t love me, but I can give you a comfortable life. I need a wife, someone who will be by my side in public and take care of this house and grounds. I promise I’ll be good to you. You can have anything you want. New furniture. New wardrobe. Anything.”

It wasn’t how I’d imagined being proposed to. It was more like a plea or an offer. While James and I were fond of one another, it was obvious neither of us was in love. He continued making his case for why getting married would be advantageous to both of us.

“I’m not home much and I work a lot, so I wouldn’t be in your way and you’d have your own space. As long as everything is taken care of, I’ll be happy.”

I looked into his eyes. “What about children? Can I have children?”

James sighed. “There’s something I have to tell you. When I was young, I got hit hard in the groin. I’m unable to father children.”

I gulped. “But you can, uh…?”

“Yes. But I can’t give you what you most want.”

“But we could adopt, right?”

James nodded. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

That night, as I lay in bed, I weighed my options. Father had been nice to me ever since I’d started dating James. James did have a beautiful house and I really believed he’d take care of me. I didn’t love him, but I doubted I’d ever love anyone as much as I loved Teddy. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And if we adopted children, I could give them a chance at a better life.

Still, it saddened me to think I’d never lie in the arms of someone I loved. And I was desperate to feel a baby growing inside of me again. Night after night I tried to remember that first tickle, the first time I felt the baby’s little fist poke through my abdomen. I constantly wondered about my daughter. She was nearing her first birthday and I wondered if her parents would have a big party for her. Would they make her a special cake and shower her with presents?

I thought about James’s proposition for a few days before accepting. I went back and forth, weighing all my options. In the end, I thought that someone was better than no one and James was nice enough, so I settled. I shouldn’t have. Never in my wildest imagination could I have predicted what was to come. In a few short months, my life would never be the same.


Chapter 7 (#ulink_92502d91-fc2f-574f-9285-59e812262b59)

Rachel

“Can I have dippy eggs for dinner?” Piper had asked.

“Would you like bacon?”

She nodded.

I made Piper’s dinner and arranged the dippy eggs on the plate so they looked like two eyes and the bacon strips so they looked like a mouth, just like Miss Evelyn used to do for me and Claire. I smiled at the memory of Claire seeing the smiley face on her plate. She’d started to cry.

“What’s wrong, Claire,” Miss Evelyn had said. “Don’t you like your breakfast?”

Claire’s chin wiggled. “It’s too cute to eat.”

“Do you want me to change it so it doesn’t look like a smiley face?” Miss Evelyn asked.

Claire shook her head. “No, I just want to keep it. No one’s ever given me a smile on a plate before.”

That morning, Claire had refused to eat her eggs and bacon so I shared mine with her. It was the last time Miss Evelyn arranged Claire’s food in a smiley face. Instead, she bought Claire a smiley face pin. Claire never took it off, even when she went to bed. She still wears it today. Usually it’s pinned to her bra next to her heart.

“Piper! Your food is ready.”

Piper ran into the kitchen and sat down. She looked up at me and smiled. “Two eyes and a mouth!”

“Do you like it?”

She nodded. “Thanks, Rachel.”

I was glad Piper’s reaction wasn’t like Claire’s. Piper gobbled down her food and I took her to the park afterward. I sat on the bench while she swung.

“Look how high I can go!” Piper pumped her legs and went higher and higher.

“Be careful!” As soon as I yelled it she jumped off the swing midair. My heart flipped unexpectedly and I jumped up and ran over to her. “Are you okay?”

She stood up and grinned. “I think that’s my best jump yet!”

A part of me was angry she’d done something so dangerous and a part of me was relieved she wasn’t hurt. But she could’ve been. She could’ve broken a leg or badly twisted her ankle when she landed. What would I do then?

That night, after putting Piper to bed, I went through the photos on my phone. There was Claire and me at last year’s Halloween party at the bar. You were supposed to come as a drink. I came as champagne. I found a cheap sparkly dress at the thrift store and blew bubbles. Claire was a bloody Mary. She dressed as the Virgin Mary using a sheet and covered herself in fake blood. We had so much fun that night.

There were photos from the New Year’s Eve party and the long weekend at the beach with Claire. I looked so much younger in the photos, but it was only a few months ago, before I got The Call. I remember it as if it were an hour ago. I had just returned from shopping for a pair of sandals because the strap on mine broke while we were at the beach. Judy, a friend of Mom’s I didn’t know, called and told me Mom had passed away suddenly. An aneurysm. Poof! She was gone. Two passersby saw her slumped over in her car in the mall parking lot. When they didn’t get a response, they called 911. Turned out she’d been dead a couple of hours and missed picking up Piper at daycare. Judy was the emergency contact and the daycare called her.

A lot happened quickly. An autopsy confirmed the cause of death. I met Piper and moved in with her, making Mom’s bedroom my own. I would’ve preferred staying in the apartment I shared with Claire, but there wasn’t enough room. Besides, that would’ve meant uprooting Piper, and her world had already been turned upside down. She’d just lost her mother. I didn’t have the heart to take away the only home she knew, too.

But I hated being surrounded by things that were not my own. Even though I went through Mom’s stuff and donated what was in decent shape to charity and threw the rest out, the bedroom still didn’t feel like my own. Some nights, I felt like the pale pink walls were closing in on me. This was not the life I imagined, not the life I wanted.

When I learned about Piper, there was a part of me that was jealous. Piper had the kind of childhood I’d always longed for. I guess Piper was one last chance for Mom to get things right. Sometimes it amazed me that something so sweet could come out of something so damaged.

Judy said she met Mom at an AA meeting, where Judy was the leader. Mom started going after I left her. I had begged Mom to go to AA over the years, but she insisted she didn’t have a problem, that she could stop drinking anytime she wanted. Judy said it took me leaving to make Mom realize what a mess her life had become. If I had known that, I might’ve run away sooner. Believe me, I’d thought about it often.

I guess Mom met someone at AA and they hit it off. It was okay for a while. That’s when Mom got pregnant with Piper. But Jason loved the bottle more than he loved Piper and Mom. When he starting hitting the vodka, Judy said Mom kicked him out. Piper was just a baby and she doesn’t remember her dad. I’m glad Mom got the help she needed, and it sounds like she had finally pulled her life together. Piper and I see Judy once in a while. Still, sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if Mom had gone to AA when I’d asked her to. She obviously loved Piper enough to stay sober. Why didn’t she love me?

I checked my newsfeed on Facebook. There were photos of my friends having a great time doing everything that I wanted to do but couldn’t. I clicked off Facebook and set my alarm instead. Maybe things would look better tomorrow. One thing I knew for sure, I was going to paint my bedroom. Something cheerful and bold. Something that was me. Maybe fuchsia or purple. Or a bright sunny yellow. I needed to make the space feel like my own, not as if I was borrowing it temporarily. I didn’t think there was anything temporary about it.

The next morning, I opened Piper’s backpack and stuffed in the questionnaire the teacher had sent home. She asked the parents… er, guardians… to answer questions, such as what’s your child’s favorite activity. I did the best I could, but I was still learning these things about Piper. Actually, answering the questions made me realize how little I did know about my half-sister. “Remember to give these to your teacher.”

Piper looked up from eating her cereal. “And you’ll be at the bus stop when I come home like you were yesterday?”

I nodded. “Yes. Just like yesterday.” I wondered if Piper would ask me this question every day or if at some point she’d trust that I’d be there.

We waited at the bus stop in the car because it was raining. The bus was late.

Piper chewed on her nails. “Maybe the bus driver forgot us this morning. If he doesn’t come, can I stay home with you?”

I sighed and turned toward Piper. “No. If he doesn’t come, I’ll take you to school. And quit biting your nails. Girls should have pretty nails. Why don’t we paint yours tonight?”

Piper held out her hands. “Mommy bit her nails.”

I wanted to say that I hoped she wasn’t like Mom, but I stopped myself before the words flew out of my mouth. I was trying to get better at thinking about things before I blurted them out, especially when it came to Piper and Mom. “Still, hands look much prettier when your nails are longer and painted.”

I heard the bus screech before I saw it. I turned toward Piper. “Have a good day. I’ll see you when you get home.”

“And you’ll paint my nails tonight, right?”

“Right.”

I watched Piper run to the bus and board. As it pulled away, I wondered if I was doing the right thing for Piper. Would she have been better off with someone else, living with a family who might have been able to provide her with more than I could?

As soon as I started the car, my cellphone rang. It was the agency.

I coughed. “What? Howard’s dead? Omigod! I was just there and he seemed his normal ornery self.”

“Margaret just called,” Annie said. “Said he passed away in his sleep. She stopped in to check on him and found him in bed.”

“How awful for her.”

“Yeah, she sounded pretty upset.” Annie was a friend of Margaret. “Well, I wanted you to know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I called Claire as soon as I hung up and told her about Howard. Actually, I needed her to tell me I wasn’t a bad person for feeling relieved I wouldn’t have to navigate his mess of a house ever again.

“It sounds like he went peacefully,” Claire said. “That’s the way I’d want to go.”

“Yeah, I suppose. I pity his daughter, though. She’s the one who has to get rid of all his junk. He’ll probably be the King Hoarder in heaven.”

Claire laughed. “What would he hoard?”

“I don’t know. There has to be something up there to hoard if for no other reason than to make hoarders like Howard feel at home.”

That comment launched us into playful banter over what Howard could hoard.

“Broken hearts,” I said.

“That’s too sad,” Claire said. “Maybe white feathers from wings. Or, I got it! Thongs.”

I laughed. “Thongs? Seriously? They probably don’t wear underwear in heaven. They’re probably underwearless.”

Claire coughed. “Not underwear, dummy! Sandals! The kind you wear on your feet!”

By the time I got off the phone with Claire I was feeling much better. She’s one of the few people who can lighten my mood even when it seems impossible.

I headed to my next cleaning job and met Kenny as I parked in front of his condo. He was pulling out of his driveway and stopped.

“Hi, Rachel,” Kenny said. “Can you do me a favor and throw the laundry into the dryer when it’s done?”

“Sure. Anything else?”

“No, just the usual. And thanks. You’re the best!”

Kenny left for his office and I headed inside. I loved Kenny’s place. It was ultra-contemporary and he had a flair for color. His entry and hallways were a pebble gray with tan undertones that popped with the white wooden trim. And his dining room was the color of an iris.

Kenny’s house was my easiest to clean. The guy was a neat freak. Nothing was out of place. Even the books he kept on his nightstand (all management books) were neatly stacked as if they’d never been read. He was the complete opposite of Howard.

As I cleaned I thought about Howard’s daughter and the mountain of stuff she’d have to go through. Maybe she’d call a junk dealer to remove it. Or rent a giant dumpster that’s dropped off and later picked up when it’s filled. It was sad to think Howard’s life would be defined by the junk he kept. To him, I’m sure it was treasure.

Funny how two people can see the same thing differently. Like the pile of travel magazines that had sprouted beneath Howard’s kitchen table. To me, it was another stack of worthless magazines to clean around. To Howard, it was a window on the world, providing a glimpse of life beyond the quarter acre he inhabited beside a corn field in the rolling countryside of southcentral Pennsylvania.

Did he dream of going to the places he read about? I wondered. Maybe it was his way of seeing places he could never afford to visit. And when I thought about the stack of travel magazines in this way, cleaning around it wasn’t nearly as big of a deal. There was hope and comfort in that stack and for Howard, maybe it was as close to the real thing as he’d ever get.

When I picked Piper up at the bus stop, she was happier than she’d been when I dropped her off. She bounced off the bus and over to me.

“So how was your day?”

“Fun!” She skipped over to the car and I opened the back door so she could crawl in.

“Fun?”

She smiled. “Yeah. Mrs. Baker gave each of us a paper bag with a letter written on it and we had to find items in the room that started with that letter.”

“What was your letter?”

“A, which was easy because I saw an apple on Mrs. Baker’s desk. Jacy had X and she couldn’t find anything, but then I helped her.”

“So what did you find?”

“A xylophone. I saw it on the toy shelf and it looked just like the one in the alphabet book Mommy bought me. It was different colors, like a rainbow.”

“Sounds like a fun game.”

I pulled into the parking space in front of our apartment building and turned off the car. Piper continued talking about the alphabet scavenger hunt. “And tomorrow is letter A day,” she said, opening her backpack and pulling out a piece of light-blue paper. “Mrs. Baker said we’re supposed to bring in an item that starts with the letter A.”

I smiled. “Why don’t you look for something while I take care of some things?”

Piper went to her room and I went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. I remember when I was in kindergarten. We had alphabet days and most of the time I couldn’t find anything to take. Mom thought it was stupid and never helped me. I will always remember letter V day. I was so proud of myself. I found the letter V on a bottle sitting on the counter. When it was my turn to share what I’d found, Mrs. Marshal’s eyes popped and she grabbed the nearly empty bottle. When I got home, Mom screamed and called me names.

I cowered in the corner. “Please, Mommy. Don’t hit me. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

Mom held up a bottle of vodka and pointed at me. “Don’t you ever take a bottle of my booze to school ever again. Do you hear me? I don’t need them coming around here nosing in our business.”

“But it was letter V day,” I had explained. “And we were supposed to bring something with the letter V on it for show and tell. I didn’t know it was bad.”

“It’s not bad.” Mommy collapsed on the couch. “You’re bad. Now go to your room and stay there. And don’t come out until I tell you to.”

I ran to my room and closed my door. It was the third time that week I’d come home to find Mom drunk. She was a mean drunk, too. She hit me and said things that no parent should ever say to a child.

Later that night, when I was sure she’d fallen asleep, I sneaked into the kitchen. I was hungry and ended up eating some carrots and a banana that was mostly black. The next morning, Mom was still asleep on the couch so I ate some more carrots and another black banana and walked to the bus stop.

Dana, who was a year older than me and lived in the same apartment building, was there. She pointed to my clothes. “You wore that yesterday. And you stink.”

I sniffed. I didn’t think I smelled funny. I smelled like I always smelled. I looked down at my red shirt and black leggings. Dana was right. I hadn’t changed my clothes since putting them on the morning before. But that’s because I didn’t have clean clothes. Mom hadn’t done the laundry in days.

When I got to school, my teacher took me down to the nurse’s office.

“Hi, Rachel,” Mrs. Bee said. “Let’s see if I can find you some nice clothes to wear for the day.”

“But I have clothes.”

“Yes, you do. And they’re very pretty clothes. But aren’t those the clothes you wore yesterday?”

I nodded.

“Well, why don’t we find you clean clothes?”

I could feel my heart beat faster. “But you’ll give back my clothes, right? Because Mommy will hit me if I don’t bring my clothes home.”

“Hit you?”

“Yes. She hits me and then she sends me to my room and doesn’t feed me so I have to sneak out when she falls asleep on the couch.”





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