“Oh, we’d better move,” Aunt Florence said. She pulled out into the traffic again. She talked about how great the day had been and how she was so glad to have me with her and then she started talking about the weather. The sky was so blue and everything was so green, things were growing well this year since it hadn’t been too hot, thankfully. Then there was silence like I was supposed to answer something. I felt so uncomfortable that I just looked out the window and said nothing.
“Colette, do you want to go to the Dairy Queen?” Aunt Florence asked.
“Sure.” I wouldn’t turn down a free Dairy Queen if my life depended on it.
“Okay. We’ll go over the Lake Street Bridge to the Dairy Queen in Minneapolis. Then we’ll sit by the river, eat our ice cream, and talk. How’s that sound?”
I didn’t know how it sounded. I mean, I did want a Dairy Queen and all but I simply didn’t know what to say to her. She had just dropped a bombshell and then started talking about the weather. I continued looking out the window.
Aunt Florence drove over this scary, shaky bridge. I thought the bridge had all the shuddering it could handle until a bus started coming across. There wasn’t a lamppost, a railing, or a car that was spared shaking while the bus was on the bridge. A person who had been foolishly walking across the bridge was hanging onto a rail for dear life. I tried not to think about the fact that if the bridge broke in two, we would end up in the Mississippi River.
If the bridge bothered Aunt Florence, she sure didn’t show it. Now she was talking about how much she loved the Mississippi and even though Lake Pepin was spectacular, this part of the river was really pretty and, if you could believe it, the beginning of the river was in Minnesota too and you could actually walk across it. Aunt Florence had gone to Lake Itasca with her campfire group in ninth grade and had never forgotten it. She told me that I had to go there someday since it was so beautiful and so wonderful. I said I’d like to go there and then we were at the Dairy Queen.
“What would you like?” Aunt Florence asked.
“A cone would be fine.”
“It might melt by the time we drive to the place by the river. How about a malt?”
“Really?” I couldn’t believe it.
“Really. That’s what I’m going to have. A chocolate malt.”
“Could I have strawberry?”
“Of course. Strawberry, it is.”
Aunt Florence marched up to the window and ordered two malts, strawberry and chocolate. We got back in the car, drove over the rickety bridge again, and then turned onto a street named the River Drive. I would have enjoyed how pretty it was except all I could think about was the fact that Aunt Florence was a mother. She had a son named Daniel.
In no time Aunt Florence parked. “Here’s the Monument. Isn’t this a nice view? Let’s eat our malts before they melt,” she said.
The Monument was a simple tall cross. Gray stone benches sat on each side so they made a circle around the cross. Aunt Florence said it was a remembrance to those who had died in World War I. We walked in front of the Monument where we could see the high banks on both sides of the river and the shaky Lake Street Bridge.
“I often come down here when I’m in St. Paul,” Aunt Florence said. “I feel at peace here. I told you we would talk, didn’t I?”
I nodded.
“I asked your mom if it was okay to tell you about my son, Daniel. She said it was fine with her. I want you to know that. But I suppose the story really begins with my brother, Daniel.”
We walked back towards the Monument. Aunt Florence chose a bench. We both sat down. I slurped my malt because it was so good. Aunt Florence didn’t seem to mind. “My brother loved the river. Did Gramps tell you that?” Aunt Florence asked.
“Yes. So did my mom.”
“Daniel was such a positive personality that when he walked into a room it actually brightened. Everyone who talked to him was talking and laughing within a few minutes. He literally lifted my soul when I was with him.” Aunt Florence stared straight ahead for a few seconds.
She continued softly. “I can’t describe what it was like after my brother died. I lost my best friend, my protector, the person who could make me laugh. I didn’t know what to do without him.”
I didn’t know if I should look at Aunt Florence or concentrate on my malt. I decided on my malt because it was so good. I gave another slurp.
“We were in the process of planning your parent’s wedding when the news came. Gramps and my mother said the wedding had to go on. It was a diversion for all of us because my parents had something to talk about. But it was the only thing they talked about. When the wedding was over, the two of them passed each other silently in the house. It was awful to be at home. I spent as much time as I could with your mom and dad but I had to go home sometimes. I started being away from home more and more.
“I met a man named Roy. He came into the store selling pharmaceutical supplies. He was handsome, charming, and fun. I thought he was wonderful.”
Chapter Nineteen
Roy
“You knew that your mom, dad, and I worked at the store?” Aunt Florence asked.
“I knew that.”
“Well, about three months after Daniel died, a man came into the store who introduced himself as Roy. He sold pharmaceutical supplies and asked who the owner of the store was. I showed him to the pharmacy where Gramps was. Roy came back to tell me that Gramps was going to buy supplies from him so he would be seeing me every couple of weeks,” Aunt Florence said.
“The next time Roy was in town he asked me to join him for dinner. I said no. I thought about it and after I finished work, I walked over to the diner. He saw me through the window and motioned to the chair across from him.”
I sipped my malt and didn’t move a muscle.
“He was so easy to talk to. I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk. I told him all about Daniel. I told him about my parents and how sad and silent it was at home. I told him about your mom getting married and how much I missed her even though I was so happy for her.
“I told him I simply didn’t know what I wanted to do. If I went to college, I had to leave Red Wing and I didn’t want to leave my parents. But I didn’t want to work at the store my whole life either. Roy assured me I would work it out.”
For the first time in my life, I felt sorry for Aunt Florence. She lost the brother she adored. Daniel was her best friend, according to my mom and her. Her parents weren’t talking to each other. Her sister got married and moved away. And she had no idea what she wanted to do in her life. How lonely she must have been.
“He listened. When he came into town we would go for long walks down by the river. I told him how much Daniel had loved the river; the sounds of the steamboat’s whistles, the eagles swooping down, how the water was always moving and changing. I told Roy how much I missed my brother. He comforted me. I became very dependent on him.”
I had finished my strawberry malt. I opened the cover just to make sure it was really all gone. I slurped a little more and then heard Aunt Florence slurp hers.
“Good to the last drop,” she said.
“Agreed,” I said.
Aunt Florence continued. “I asked your mom how she knew that she was in love with your dad. She said she really didn’t know other than she felt happy when she was with him. She said she always wanted to share everything with your dad and she missed him when he was gone. I told her I knew I was in love because that’s the way I felt too. Your mom got really worried and started questioning me. She asked me how much I really knew about Roy and what kind of a relationship it could be when the guy came into town for a night or two and then was gone, who knows where, for a couple of weeks. I got angry with her.” Aunt Florence looked down at the ground. She took in two deep breaths.
“Your dad took me out one night after I worked at the store. He said that Gemma and he were both worried about me and they didn’t want anything bad to happen to me. I said I was eighteen, plenty
old enough to make my own decisions. He said, ‘Okay, Florence, but you be very careful.’ But I wasn’t careful. I had never been with a person who made me feel the way Roy did.”
Aunt Florence stood up. She took our empty Dairy Queen cups and placed them in a trashcan. She sighed. “Do you want to walk a little bit?”
“Sure.” We walked along the sidewalk away from the Monument.
“Am I boring you? All this talk about myself?”
“No, I don’t mind.” I guess hearing all of Gramp’s stories had made me more patient or something because I really didn’t mind at all.
“Roy had told me that he lived in Wisconsin and that he was on the road five days a week. That’s all I knew about him. I started going to the dances at the St. James Hotel with him.”
I thought about Aunt Florence spinning around in her red dress.
“In August, Roy was gone for three and a half weeks. I was so happy to see him when he came to Red Wing that I didn’t care what happened. I would tell my parents I was staying overnight at a friend’s house and then stay overnight in Roy’s hotel room. It was truly crazy. I didn’t listen to anyone.
“I had the naive idea that I would be with him forever. I suspected I was pregnant and decided that I would tell him the next time he came into town. I thought we would live in Red Wing, raise a family together, and live happily ever after.” Aunt Florence bent down and picked up a rock. She held it in her fist.
She continued. “It was the second week in October. I went to see Roy at the hotel. I couldn’t wait to tell him the good news. Before I could tell him, he told me he was married. I was stunned. I asked him if he had children and he said he had two. I ran out of the hotel.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No, I never did. All I thought about was how in the world I was going to tell my family.”
We had gone quite a distance from the Monument. The sidewalk was on the same side of the street as the river and on the other side of the street were the most beautiful houses. Aunt Florence liked them too. We both decided that we wouldn’t mind living in St. Paul if we lived in one of the houses on the River Drive.
“C’mon, let’s go this way. It’s really pretty,” Aunt Florence said, leading the way along a slender path. “It’ll bring us right back to the Monument.”
Normally I’d be content to just take in the river but I was busting to hear more about Aunt Florence. She must have been ready to bust too because in no time she started talking again.
“I only saw Roy once more after that night. He came in to the store to see Gramps. He tried to talk to me but I walked away.”
“How did you tell Gramps and Grandma Rose?”
“Well, I didn’t tell them for a long time. I was lost and so ashamed that I didn’t know what to do. I kept thinking that they had lost their son and now this. How could I possibly tell my parents how foolish I’d been?
“So, I went to your mother and father. Your dad was so angry that he wanted to find Roy’s wife and tell her what was going on. I told him the only place I had ever heard Roy mention was Wisconsin. Your mom just asked what they could do for me. I asked if they would be there when I told our parents.”
I had so wanted to know all about everybody and everything in my family. I thought about my mom saying Aunt Florence had had kind of a sad life. And that sad things happened to people. They sure did. Agreed.
“I planned what I would say and how I would say that I was pregnant and I was very sorry to have done this to the family. Then my mother went into the hospital. So that wasn’t a good time. We were all relieved that Gramps and my mother were talking again. I didn’t want to do anything to change that. I was afraid.
“When my mother came home and was feeling a little stronger, your mom came over and the two of us went into the sunroom which was where we had put my mother’s bed and her big oxygen tank.”
“Gramps told me that Grandma Rose had a really bad heart. Did she use oxygen all the time?” I asked.
“Yes. She was what they called in those days a ‘cardiac invalid.’ She was in bed most of the time and she got very short of breath without the oxygen. Someone from, I think, the oxygen company came to change the oxygen tanks every few days. It was hard.”
“Poor Grandma Rose.”
“We all felt bad for her. And I had to tell her the awful news. I asked for her forgiveness. She had some questions for me about Roy and how far along I was. I told her I was almost four months. Then she hugged me. She asked for my forgiveness for the way she had been after Daniel died.” Aunt Florence clenched and unclenched the fist that still held the rock.
“My mother told Gramps the news two days after Christmas. He had very little to say to me except that he couldn’t believe I would bring such shame on our family. Two weeks later he told me I would be going to a place in St. Paul until I had the baby. Then I could come back home.”
We were back at the Monument again. We looked out again at the river and Aunt Florence threw the rock. I sat on a bench. Aunt Florence sat on the bench next to me.
She continued. “My mother talked to me every day. Mainly she told me that she wished she could turn the clock back to after Daniel died. She said she wouldn’t shut people out. It was just too lonely for her and for all of us. She told me over and over how much she loved me.”
“She was really nice,” I said.
“The best. One day she told me that if she were stronger, she would help me raise the baby. I knew she couldn’t but it was so kind of her to say that. Your mom and dad discussed adopting the baby but then decided that it just wouldn’t work. I think they were right on that. I would have interfered.
“So in January of 1952 I came up to St. Paul. I had no idea what the next few months would be like.”
Chapter Twenty
St. Paul
Aunt Florence continued. I guess I could say she was on a roll.
“Gramps and your dad drove me to St. Paul on a cold Sunday morning. Your mom stayed with our mother since she couldn’t be alone. The conversation in the car was quiet. I didn’t talk at all. I remember staring out the frosty glaze of the car window at the exposed branches of the trees, thinking how lonely they all looked,” Aunt Florence said.
“We arrived at the home I would be staying at about eleven o’clock in the morning. Gramps carried in my small suitcase and asked for the nun he had talked to on the phone. Your dad and I stood off to one side while Gramps and the nun discussed the arrangements. Gramps gave me a quick hug and then he was out the door. He said, ‘Take care,’ or something like that. Your dad lingered for a minute, gave me a big hug and said, ‘It’ll be okay. It really will.’ He followed Gramps out the door and I was alone.”
“Weren’t you scared?”
“I was terrified. I didn’t know what I would do without my family. I had no friends to talk to. I was totally alone.”
“How terrible.”
“It was terrible. After a while I made friends there because we were all in the same situation and we all needed to talk. I listened to many stories of love, abuse, sadness and heartbreak. As funny as it sounds, it became a healing time for me.
“I was able to tell the girls about my brother, about Roy, about my mother’s illness, and about my guilt. Some of them had lost fathers and mothers; a girl named Maureen had lost both. I felt most sorry for her. She had been living with her sister and wouldn’t tell us who the father of her baby was. She was going to live with her brother in Chicago after the baby was born. I still wonder what happened to her.”
“Poor girl.”
“Oh, she was. She came from a dirt-poor family and she was so sad.”
“Did anyone marry the father of their babies?”
“There were some who did. One girl named Connie talked about running off with the father as soon as the baby was born. Her family hated him and forbade her seeing him. He contacted her whenever he could.”
“Did she run away?”
“They ran away to
New York as soon as she turned eighteen. I got one letter from her when I was in nursing school.”
“Did you write back?”
“No, I didn’t. Even though some of the girls were the bravest people I’d ever met, I wanted to put that sad, lonely time of my life behind me. I had the baby in the hospital as I told you. A wonderful nurse let me hold him for a few minutes. I’ve always been grateful to her. She told me the adoptive parents had agreed to name him Daniel.”
I remembered when Aunt Florence got misty-eyed out in the kitchen. She talked about a nurse who hugged her and showed her compassion. “Is that the nurse who made you want to go to nursing school?”
“Yes. After Daniel left the hospital, I had to stay for another three days. The nurse would come in and talk to me. She inspired me.
“Your mom and dad picked me up from the hospital and brought me back to Red Wing. Now it was Gramps and me who were having trouble talking to each other. No one but my mother ever said a word to me about the baby. I suppose they didn’t want to upset me but I took it that they wanted to erase the whole thing and pretend that it hadn’t happened. I was very bitter,” Aunt Florence said.
Sometimes my mom said that things aren’t always what they seem. I decided right then and there to write down my mom’s sayings in a notebook.
“One day, I told my mother about how kind the nurse was to me, how I would never forget her. My mother asked if I had ever thought about nursing as a career. She said I was plenty intelligent. And science was never hard for me. She got so excited when I told her I would think about it. She said she’d been praying for something to catch my interest and nursing was a career that a person could feel passionate about.
“Well, I wanted to make my mother happy so I did think about it. In fact, the more I thought about it the more I liked the idea. I can still see my mother’s face when I told her I was accepted to nursing school in Rochester. She said, ‘Bravo, Florence. Good for you.’”
They're Always With You Page 11
