parlor. They spared me the heartache of choosing the marker and a small blanket of yellow rose buds.
My arm around Flo’s shoulder held her up. I could only see the shadow of her face under the black veiled hat. Her soft nylon glove gripped the little lamb with glass blue eyes. I looked up to catch my breath and found a familiar face in the crowd. Marianne. My heart skipped a beat more from surprise than the sight a long lost love.
Later, I sat in the kitchen watching Flo stare at a plate of food.
“ Flo, you have to eat something,” Sophia begged.
Flo pressed her right hand to her temple. “I can’t. There are too many people here. I’m going to bed.”
Sophia was on Flo’s heels, not letting her out of sight. There were a lot of people in my mother’s house. They spilt over into the yard and talked in whispers. I closed my ears to their conversations and muffled the sound of them. I couldn’t bear to hear others retell my daughter’s death. Mother never allowed strong drink in her house, but I could have used a nip that day. I stepped out the back door and looked across the barren land where my secret place used to be. Every man needed a secret place, and mine was sold with the timber.
She leaned against the back of the house, her voice barely above a murmur. “Mickey.”
“ I saw you there, at the cemetery,” I said without turning.
“ I had to come. I had to see if you were all right.”
I searched the naked land, one foot propped on the porch banister. “No. I’m not.”
“ I lost my husband last year. Did you hear that Seth was killed in the war? I know how grief feels.”
I turned to look at her. Her green eyes drew me in. I felt myself sinking deeper into the sea of green until I found that familiar place in her heart. That’s the effect Marianne had on me. I felt safe to open my heart to her.
“ Uh-no, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.” My eyes roved over the empty land. “Dottie was five. She liked to swim in the tub. She liked to watch the fringe sway on the pole lamp next to the tub. We left her alone for just a minute…or maybe, two.”
“ I’m so sorry, Mickey. I can’t imagine anything so awful. Time will ease the pain.”
She sat in a rocking chair. I turned and leaned on the banister where I could look at her. I realized how much I’d missed her. Flo was beautiful and flashy. Marianne was plain and pure. Flo had never been my friend, never cared how I felt. Marianne thought of me. She wanted to see if I was all right.
I shook my head. “I don’t know how we’ll get through this. I don’t think Flo has accepted it yet. I don’t what she will do when that time comes.”
Marianne said, “She’s a lovely woman.”
I came back with, “She’s weak. She’s not you.”
Marianne looked at the long tapered fingers folded in her lap. I looked at her hands, too, getting lost in old familiar feelings of what couldn’t be. I fought those feelings and scrambled back to the present.
“ What are you doing these days?”
Marianne shrugged. “I live alone. Dabble in pottery and the watercolors, you know.
“ The other boys are either still overseas or have gone away to work in the automobile factories up north. I look in on Mama and Papa. They’re getting old.”
“ No children?” I asked.
“ No.” Her thick strawberry curls, bobbed just below her jaw line, shook just like I remembered.
The easy, natural silence between us tortured me. I felt good that she was there. I felt bad that she made me feel good. She stood, smoothed the lines of a blue and white pinstripe wrap dress over her tall frame.
“ Nice dress,” I said.
“ Thank you. I made it from a Simplicity pattern. Well, I’d better go. I know there’s nothing I can do or say to make things better. I just had to see you, Mickey.”
I nodded. “Thanks for coming.”
I watched her tall, sleek body drift away. She was the most perfect woman I had ever known. I would have given anything that day
My arm around Flo’s shoulder held her up. I could only see the shadow of her face under the black veiled hat. Her soft nylon glove gripped the little lamb with glass blue eyes. I looked up to catch my breath and found a familiar face in the crowd. Marianne. My heart skipped a beat more from surprise than the sight a long lost love.
Later, I sat in the kitchen watching Flo stare at a plate of food.
“ Flo, you have to eat something,” Sophia begged.
Flo pressed her right hand to her temple. “I can’t. There are too many people here. I’m going to bed.”
Sophia was on Flo’s heels, not letting her out of sight. There were a lot of people in my mother’s house. They spilt over into the yard and talked in whispers. I closed my ears to their conversations and muffled the sound of them. I couldn’t bear to hear others retell my daughter’s death. Mother never allowed strong drink in her house, but I could have used a nip that day. I stepped out the back door and looked across the barren land where my secret place used to be. Every man needed a secret place, and mine was sold with the timber.
She leaned against the back of the house, her voice barely above a murmur. “Mickey.”
“ I saw you there, at the cemetery,” I said without turning.
“ I had to come. I had to see if you were all right.”
I searched the naked land, one foot propped on the porch banister. “No. I’m not.”
“ I lost my husband last year. Did you hear that Seth was killed in the war? I know how grief feels.”
I turned to look at her. Her green eyes drew me in. I felt myself sinking deeper into the sea of green until I found that familiar place in her heart. That’s the effect Marianne had on me. I felt safe to open my heart to her.
“ Uh-no, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.” My eyes roved over the empty land. “Dottie was five. She liked to swim in the tub. She liked to watch the fringe sway on the pole lamp next to the tub. We left her alone for just a minute…or maybe, two.”
“ I’m so sorry, Mickey. I can’t imagine anything so awful. Time will ease the pain.”
She sat in a rocking chair. I turned and leaned on the banister where I could look at her. I realized how much I’d missed her. Flo was beautiful and flashy. Marianne was plain and pure. Flo had never been my friend, never cared how I felt. Marianne thought of me. She wanted to see if I was all right.
I shook my head. “I don’t know how we’ll get through this. I don’t think Flo has accepted it yet. I don’t what she will do when that time comes.”
Marianne said, “She’s a lovely woman.”
I came back with, “She’s weak. She’s not you.”
Marianne looked at the long tapered fingers folded in her lap. I looked at her hands, too, getting lost in old familiar feelings of what couldn’t be. I fought those feelings and scrambled back to the present.
“ What are you doing these days?”
Marianne shrugged. “I live alone. Dabble in pottery and the watercolors, you know.
“ The other boys are either still overseas or have gone away to work in the automobile factories up north. I look in on Mama and Papa. They’re getting old.”
“ No children?” I asked.
“ No.” Her thick strawberry curls, bobbed just below her jaw line, shook just like I remembered.
The easy, natural silence between us tortured me. I felt good that she was there. I felt bad that she made me feel good. She stood, smoothed the lines of a blue and white pinstripe wrap dress over her tall frame.
“ Nice dress,” I said.
“ Thank you. I made it from a Simplicity pattern. Well, I’d better go. I know there’s nothing I can do or say to make things better. I just had to see you, Mickey.”
I nodded. “Thanks for coming.”
I watched her tall, sleek body drift away. She was the most perfect woman I had ever known. I would have given anything that day
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