The Four Seasons by Mary Alice Monroe Page A

slam.
    â€œWell…” Birdie said, exhaling and unbuttoning her suit jacket.
    â€œI was afraid that would happen,” Rose said.
    â€œWhat did you expect? How could you have done this to her? Do you have any idea what she went through back then? The decision to search for an adopted child has got to be one of the most painful, not to mention personal, decisions a woman can make. It’s one thing for Merry to go on about her doll and her idea of a lost baby, but it’s quite another to couch it in terms of a last request.”
    â€œBut that’s exactly what it was,” Rose exclaimed, rising to her feet. “I knew this would cause a furor, but who was I to deny her? Birdie, you always saw Merry as someone broken who needed fixing. Something half and not whole. Just another responsibility. And as for Jilly…Who knows? I love her, but I haven’t seen her but a few times in twenty years. She never made the effort to get to know Merry. Merry was a rare, beautiful individual. She was my dear friend. And when my sister, my friend, begs me to make a last request to her sisters, you better believe that I’m going to do it.”
    â€œWell, good for you,” Birdie snapped back. “Except did you consider the consequences?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, I did.” Rose lifted her chin and squared off with Birdie. “I’ve spent a lifetime in this house. I was theone who left college to stay here and take care of Merry. I watched you and my friends get married and have children, have lives of your own while I watched the years go by. I don’t need you to tell me about consequences, thank you very much.”
    She paused to collect herself. “You forget that I was Mother’s caretaker, too, and when she drank, she liked to talk. I know every dirty little secret that’s been swept under the rug, and frankly I think it’s time to clean house. We have to, or we’ll let it fester and rot. Our parents are gone. Merry is gone. There’s nothing left to hold us together, to force us to keep contact. It’s time for us to talk, at last.”
    Birdie rubbed her eyes. “I’m not sure that’s always for the best.”
    Mr. Collins stepped forward to stand between them. “I think it’s time that I go. Whatever you decide, on this issue or concerning the house, is strictly up to you. However, my course as executor of the will is clear. The money and the property will be distributed equally among you as stipulated in your father’s will. If I hear otherwise, then we’ll have to have legal documents drawn up. Certainly, you don’t have to make those decisions tonight. I suggest you sleep on it. Goodbye, Birdie. Rose. Please extend my sympathy to Jilly and tell her that I regret any pain she has experienced.”
    â€œI will,” Birdie said, rising to take his hand. “Let me walk you to the door.”
    Rose brought him his briefcase. When she handed him the video, he shook his head.
    â€œNo, that’s for you to keep. You may want to watch it again.” He paused and his gaze swept the living room. He appeared lost in thought, as though seeing ghosts of a happier time long gone.
    â€œIt was a difficult decision for me to agree to Merry’s request,” he said. “Highly unusual, needless to say. I feel sure that if you look at the tape again you will see that Merry hadonly love in her heart for all of you when she made her request. Oh, that reminds me.”
    He bent to open his briefcase. His long hands, pale and gnarled with age, pulled out a child-size shoe box. It was brightly painted and wrapped with tape, over and over again, creating a tight seal.
    Birdie recognized the box immediately and held out her hands. “The time capsule,” she said on a breath.
    â€œQuite right,” he replied. Then, handing it to her, he said in utmost seriousness, “As co-executor of the will, I hand it