Dallas, she was like oil to Warren's water. They married mostly because she was pregnant with Phoebe." Mommy smirked. "According to Dallas, she named her daughter Phoebe because of the phoebe bird outside the window of the maternity ward. Lucky it wasn't a crow." she added. and I laughed,
It was the first time I had laughed since Daddy's death. I thought, and it felt as if I had taken off a jacket made of lead.
Mommy smiled. "I've always loved your laugh. Grace. No matter how old you will be, when you laugh it will always sound innocent and true and make other people feel good about themselves."
I stared at her, at the warmth in her eyes, the love in her face. Would anyone ever see as much good in me and love me as much as she did?
"Anyway," she continued. "while Warren became involved in business and began to develop a nice little fortune for them. Petula, better known as Pet, continued her self-centered ways, leaving the baby with a sitter far hours and hours while she associated with her unmarried friends, a group of whom were into motorcycles. Warren refused to buy her one, so she went out and bought it herself. A year later she lost control going, they say, about eighty, and broke almost every major bone in her body. It was one of those accidents where you hope the victim died instantly. And she did.
"There he was, left with an infant. Dallas was working for an associate of his, and they began to see each other. She never said so. but I had the sense that they were seeing each other romantically before Pet's inevitable date with death.
"She gave me details slowly over the years. We had a few hours together four years ago when I was connecting flights. I had met your father for that weekend in San Juan. He had some shore leave, and we thought it was a good opportunity for a little holiday. Remember?"
"Yes"
Every time Mommy mentioned Daddy in a passing reference, her smile deepened and warmed. I was jealous of her cherished memories, even though I had so many of my own.
"Dallas met me at the airport in West Palm Beach, and we had a nice time reminiscing, looking at each other's family photographs."
She paused when our food was served. She stared at her plate for a moment and then shook her head.
"Fate. I read once that we're all crossing paths, intersecting in ways we don't even realize. Here I am coming full circle and meeting up with Dallas again, something neither of us thought would ever be." She smiled quickly. "But you'll love her. honey. She's dawn-to-earth and always lots of fun."
I nodded. If Mommy said so, I was sure it would be.
"Eat up, and let's get on our way," she said with more enthusiasm. It was infectious. I felt a surge of interest and expectation. We were like two swimmers, pushed under the sea and held down in the dark cold until we almost drowned, and then permitted to come up for air, finding ourselves in an entirely new world.
I think Mommy and I were closer to each other than other mothers and daughters because Daddy had been gone so often and for such long periods, especially during the earlier years. However, even she and I. a mother and a daughter who couldn't be much closer, had much yet to learn about each other, mainly me learning about her. The reason became clearer to me as we traveled and she talked more and more about her own youth, her first boyfriend, her youthful adventures.
Mothers have to wait until their daughters are mature enough to appreciate and understand what they will tell them about themselves. She could have told me all she did now years ago, but I wouldn't have valued her revelations as much or understood as much. We really become different people, changing as we grow older, I thought. Mommy's confessions and descriptions of herself were far more frank and detailed than they would have been if she had told them to me even a year earlier.
Daddy's death had somehow plunged me into a stage of maturity perhaps years ahead of my time. It had certainly washed away much of my
It was the first time I had laughed since Daddy's death. I thought, and it felt as if I had taken off a jacket made of lead.
Mommy smiled. "I've always loved your laugh. Grace. No matter how old you will be, when you laugh it will always sound innocent and true and make other people feel good about themselves."
I stared at her, at the warmth in her eyes, the love in her face. Would anyone ever see as much good in me and love me as much as she did?
"Anyway," she continued. "while Warren became involved in business and began to develop a nice little fortune for them. Petula, better known as Pet, continued her self-centered ways, leaving the baby with a sitter far hours and hours while she associated with her unmarried friends, a group of whom were into motorcycles. Warren refused to buy her one, so she went out and bought it herself. A year later she lost control going, they say, about eighty, and broke almost every major bone in her body. It was one of those accidents where you hope the victim died instantly. And she did.
"There he was, left with an infant. Dallas was working for an associate of his, and they began to see each other. She never said so. but I had the sense that they were seeing each other romantically before Pet's inevitable date with death.
"She gave me details slowly over the years. We had a few hours together four years ago when I was connecting flights. I had met your father for that weekend in San Juan. He had some shore leave, and we thought it was a good opportunity for a little holiday. Remember?"
"Yes"
Every time Mommy mentioned Daddy in a passing reference, her smile deepened and warmed. I was jealous of her cherished memories, even though I had so many of my own.
"Dallas met me at the airport in West Palm Beach, and we had a nice time reminiscing, looking at each other's family photographs."
She paused when our food was served. She stared at her plate for a moment and then shook her head.
"Fate. I read once that we're all crossing paths, intersecting in ways we don't even realize. Here I am coming full circle and meeting up with Dallas again, something neither of us thought would ever be." She smiled quickly. "But you'll love her. honey. She's dawn-to-earth and always lots of fun."
I nodded. If Mommy said so, I was sure it would be.
"Eat up, and let's get on our way," she said with more enthusiasm. It was infectious. I felt a surge of interest and expectation. We were like two swimmers, pushed under the sea and held down in the dark cold until we almost drowned, and then permitted to come up for air, finding ourselves in an entirely new world.
I think Mommy and I were closer to each other than other mothers and daughters because Daddy had been gone so often and for such long periods, especially during the earlier years. However, even she and I. a mother and a daughter who couldn't be much closer, had much yet to learn about each other, mainly me learning about her. The reason became clearer to me as we traveled and she talked more and more about her own youth, her first boyfriend, her youthful adventures.
Mothers have to wait until their daughters are mature enough to appreciate and understand what they will tell them about themselves. She could have told me all she did now years ago, but I wouldn't have valued her revelations as much or understood as much. We really become different people, changing as we grow older, I thought. Mommy's confessions and descriptions of herself were far more frank and detailed than they would have been if she had told them to me even a year earlier.
Daddy's death had somehow plunged me into a stage of maturity perhaps years ahead of my time. It had certainly washed away much of my
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