by A. C. James
“No, thank you,” Rue said.
Grace looked over at me.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I said.
“No, please, let me get you something. I just put a pot on the stove and was about to have some tea. Do you drink tea? I could make coffee if you like…”
I could tell she was nervous, but she was trying to be nice.
Rue smiled. “Actually, tea would be wonderful.”
“What about you, Holly?”
“Um, sure.”
Grace left to get our tea and I had this sinking feeling. What if her sister had inherited this house and my grandmother really was dead? The grandfather clock near the fireplace chimed and there on the mantle I saw her picture. Chestnut hair, piled high on her head—it had to be my mother. I’d never met her but I’d know her face anywhere. I’d studied it so many times after Rue showed me the photo hidden in my locket behind the only baby picture I had. I couldn’t believe that I had a picture of my mom the whole damn time but never knew it.
“Are you okay?” Rue asked.
She put her hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze.
“Yeah. So you never met her? Grace, I mean.”
Rue shook her head. “Charlotte and my mother were close. We were just girls when we used to play up in the attic.” Rue pointed to the ceiling overhead. “I remember there used to be this big glass case with a ship in it; I was fascinated by it. And there were old photographs that hung over the desk where the ship was. Charlotte and a woman that looked very much like Grace were in the picture, but I never heard her talk about having a sister. Not in all the years I knew her.”
“But she wouldn’t talk about that with you, right? I mean, you were just a kid.”
“I suppose you’re right. But we lost touch after your mother died. My mother would come visit her, make sure she was okay, but one day she just stopped answering the door.”
“My grandmother?”
Rue nodded.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she do that?”
“I wish I could tell you,” she said after a pause. “It’s strange being in this house again after so many years. When we weren’t playing in the attic on rainy days we lived in the forest out back. There used to be a trail that led down to the lake. We’d climb trees and skip stones until it got too dark, but it didn’t matter. We knew that trail blindfolded.”
“What was my mom like?”
Rue laughed. “She was kind and smart, but she definitely didn’t take any crap off of anyone. She used to paint. I always figured she’d go to art school someday.”
“And what was my father like?”
“I never understood how she dated your father, because they were so different. He was a jock, but I liked him. He was funny and he could always make your mom laugh. I still remember that day at the hospital and the look on his face. I got angry at a nurse who told him not to hold you until he made up his mind. He was devastated when Sara…”
Rue looked sad and I couldn’t stand it. I’d wanted to ask her this before, but part of me didn’t want to deal with the pity, or make someone else feel bad by drudging up the past. But I couldn’t let it go anymore. I had to know. I needed it more than I’d ever realized. Eventually I’d given up, because if I kept dreaming that one day I’d meet my family it would eat me up inside.
“Well, he did,” I said, my voice seething with bitterness.
“Holly, his father couldn’t help him, and his mother was gone. You have to understand that he was just a kid himself. When he found out your mother was pregnant he supported her every step of the way. They were going to raise you together, despite how angry his father was that he would give up his scholarship to stay here.”
I didn’t want to believe what Rue was telling me, but I knew in my gut that it was true. At the moment I just didn’t care or want to hear what his reasons were. I’d much rather keep viewing them as excuses. It was easier that way.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care where he is or what he’s doing with his life. He had his chance. I don’t want to meet him.”
Rue folded her hands in her lap and looked down. I was glad she didn’t get the chance to disagree with me about my father. Grace reappeared, carrying a tray of teacups that rattled in their saucers and a little bowl of sugar.
“Careful, Holly, it’s hot. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” she said as she placed cups of tea on the coffee table in front of me and Rue.
“Rue.”
Grace pursed her lips. “Charlotte mentioned you. You were friends with Sara, right?”
“We were best friends. We grew up together. I was just telling Holly how we used to play in the attic.”
“Sara used to pretend she was a princess trapped in a tower up there. Charlotte would have to bribe her to come down. She was a very imaginative child,” Grace said as she sat in a wing chair across from us. “I wish I could have known her better.”
“I wish…I could have known her,” I said.
Tears welled up in both Rue and Grace’s eyes. I swallowed. I wouldn’t cry. At least not yet. I’d wait until I was back at the loft with Arie’s arms wrapped around me.
“I don’t mean to be rude, and you may not know the answer, but what happened? I mean, why didn’t my grandmother or…” I didn’t want to place blame, and I didn’t know how to say it any other way. I didn’t want to come right out and ask why Grace had never stepped in either. “How come I never knew my family?”
Grace looked pensive and hesitated before answering. “I never knew you existed until a few years ago, when I found your grandmother’s journal while I was cleaning out a desk. I think your grandmother felt like she had no other choice. At the time we weren’t close. We hadn’t spoken in years. In fact, the last time I saw your mother she had to be about five, maybe six.” Grace folded her hands in her lap. “I never understood the way Charlotte lived her life. Having a child but never getting married, and the witchcraft… she said it ran in our blood, but I never believed in any of that blasphemous nonsense. So I stopped coming to see her.”
Grace’s apologetic smile did little to hide her guilt. I could feel Rue stiffen beside me but she didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry. I still don’t understand. Why did she feel like she didn’t have a choice? Because my mother died and she—”
“No, she would have taken you in if she could.”
My throat was closing. I pushed past the tears stinging my eyes, because if I cried it would be a bloody mess all over the place and then I’d have to dazzle her.
“Then why didn’t she?”
“Your grandmother was only forty-one when your mother died. She was only forty-one when she was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s.”
“No, so she’s…” Gone. My voice broke and I couldn’t breathe.
It was a good thing that I didn’t have to. I didn’t understand. Rue was so sure with the locator spell… Then it dawned on me that she could be buried somewhere on the property, although I wondered how that could be possible.
“I read it in the diary that I found in her desk. She started forgetting things almost seven years before she was diagnosed. Well, as best as I can tell from the mixed-up dates, but she was diagnosed around the time your mother got pregnant.” Grace looked down.
“I can’t believe it…” I said, trailing off. My hands shook.
“The state found out about her condition and pressured her to let your father give you up for adoption or else be found incompetent by the court. They told her you would be better off with a real family rather than a teenager or someone who would forget to give you a bottle.” She paused to take a sip of tea. “It was decided that your father would sign away his rights, and it was supposed to be a family adoption by your grandmother, until the courts started evaluating her.”
I was stunned. I’d thought that she
didn’t want me. That her grief over losing a daughter was too much to bear and that she blamed me for her death. God knows I blamed myself more times than I could count.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
Rue put her hand on my arm.
“My husband had cancer by the time I found out about her diagnosis, and by then my sister had progressed. I ended up taking care of them both, but he’s gone now.” Grace took another sip of tea. It seemed like it comforted her. How awkward it must be for her to have to tell me all this. “And he’s in a better place. He was in so much pain toward the end.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Rue said.
“So am I…” I paused. “When did my grandmother pass?”
“What?” Grace put her tea cup back in its saucer, shaking her head. “No. I’m sorry. Your grandmother is sixty-three and she’s still here. Today is one of her good days, but not for much longer. As the day goes…so does she.”
I gulped. “Can I see her?”
Grace leveled me with a sympathetic look, her gaze steady. “You have to understand. She won’t know you.”
I paused to consider this. It didn’t matter. I came here to find out the truth and now that I knew I had to see it through. “I’d like to meet her anyway. If that would be okay with you.”
Grace smiled. I wondered how old she was and how long she’d been taking care of my grandmother. It had to be a tremendous burden and I couldn’t believe that she hadn’t put her in a nursing home. No one could possibly blame her if she couldn’t handle it. Taking care of someone with Alzheimer’s had to be a full-time job.
“Come with me. Try not to press her with too many questions, and if she starts talking about the past just go along with it. She likes to tell stories…it’s the present and the everyday living that she has a problem with.”
I nodded. “I won’t stay too long.”
“I’ll be just outside the door in case she starts to get agitated.”
“I’ll wait here for you,” Rue said, taking another sip of her tea.
Never in a million years and all the pretend stories I told myself about my family did I imagine that the moment I’d finally find out the truth would be so bittersweet.
Chapter 12
We trudged up the stairs, which were covered with an oriental runner that looked just as dusty as the furniture in the living room. I bit my lower lip as I followed Grace. I didn’t know what I expected. On one hand I couldn’t believe that I’d have the chance to meet my grandmother, but part of me felt so sad and empty that it had to be this way. Before, when Grace turned toward the stairs she had looked so nervous. Part of me felt guilty and hoped to God that my visit wouldn’t upset my grandmother and make it harder on Grace after we left.
“She likes to sit in Sara’s room in the afternoon. Please don’t move anything. She gets upset if you do.” Grace nodded over her shoulder to me. “This house used to belong to our parents. I gave up trying to change anything after I remodeled the kitchen and Charlotte threw a fit. She hasn’t set foot in the kitchen since then, but it’s just as well. When I first moved in to take care of her she’d still try to cook and then leave the stove on.”
“I won’t touch anything. Thank you for letting me see her. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been taking care of her all this time…”
Grace sighed. “She begged me once not to put her in a home, and I just couldn’t do it. But if she gets worse…” Grace paused. “Listen, if she says she has to go to the bathroom, I’ll go in with her. You can’t turn on the facet in the sink. I give her hand sanitizer now because she’s terrified of water.”
“Can I ask you a question? I don’t mean to pry, but if she’s afraid of water then how does she shower?” I asked.
“I have a nurse’s aide who comes to help me bathe her. I can’t handle it by myself anymore. Not when she refuses and fights me.”
I swallowed. Grace sounded weary. This had taken its toll on her. It had worn her down, but it wasn’t too late for me to help.
“I understand.”
Grace stopped at the top of the stairs, and I stepped onto the landing next to her. She hesitated. It looked like she wanted to say something but she seemed reluctant as she shifted to her other foot.
“Grace?”
“Holly, I want you to know that if I had known about you I would have done something,” Grace said, her voice turning soft. “By the time I found out and tried to contact the state they wouldn’t tell me anything. You’re my niece, and I’m so glad you came. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”
I tried to smile. “Grace, you don’t have to apologize. You didn’t know. There’s nothing to apologize for. I didn’t mean to come here when you didn’t expect any of this. Rue tried to call before we came, but the number—”
“Was disconnected. It was one of the first bills I took over.”
“You’ve had to deal with so much. It’s okay. I’m just glad that we’re here now, and I know there’s nothing you could have done. Nothing anyone could have done. And I promise you won’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”
Grace nodded.
And I really meant that. I wanted to help her with my grandmother but I’m sure Grace just thought I felt guilty. Guilt was a far better measure of honesty. Maybe we both felt that way, but for different reasons. Me for not being here to help her, and Grace for not being there when I was a kid. It was almost laughable, because there was nothing either of us could have done but it didn’t change that we wished it could have been different.
“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” she said.
I nodded and followed her when she turned and continued to walk down the hall, even though I had no idea what she meant by that. It didn’t matter. I wanted the chance to meet Charlotte anyway. Grace stopped in front of a bedroom door and tapped gently before nudging it open.
“Charlotte, there’s someone here to see you.”
She sat on the edge of a white four-post bed, looking down at her hands and twisting a tissue in her lap. My throat clenched when she looked up. Recognition lit up her face as soon as she saw me. Charlotte pushed herself off the bed, walked across the room, and before I could move her arms were around me, hugging me like she didn’t want to let me go.
“Sara, you’re home early. I thought you were going to Rue’s house after school.”
“Um—”
I turned and Grace stood in the doorway.
“Just go with it…” she whispered.
She nodded at me encouragingly and I wrapped my arms around Charlotte’s slight frame. I took a jagged breath before answering her. Not only did she not know me but she couldn’t tell that I was twenty-two and she thought that I was my dead mother. My chestnut hair and heart-shaped face resembled the photo of my mother in my locket. So I tried to think of an excuse.
“Rue had to stay after for detention. So I took the bus home.”
Charlotte frowned. “You never ride the bus. Danny drives you. And why did Rue get detention?”
I went blank. I hadn’t thought the lie that far ahead.
“Um, I think she mouthed off to her teacher.” I shrugged.
“That’s not like her at all.”
Charlotte took two steps back and sunk into the flowered bedspread. I sat next to her. She looked perplexed but she wasn’t agitated. Grace gave me a nod as she left the door open a crack and exited the room. Now that I was sitting here with her I had no idea what I should say.
“I’m so glad to…be home.” My voice cracked.
I was going to say how wonderful it was to finally meet her, but I thought it was best to just play along since she thought I was Sara. I didn’t want to make her upset by telling her the truth and reminding her that her daughter was dead. I didn’t know if she’d even remember if I told her I was her granddau
ghter.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“Is Danny coming over later?”
I paused. “I don’t know. I have to call him. I guess so.”
Charlotte sighed. “What are you going to do next year when he goes off to college and leaves you behind?”
Her eyebrows knitted together and I didn’t know how I should respond. Instead I figured it would be better if I just said something to agree with her, something I thought she’d want to hear.
“I was thinking we should break up.”
She stared at me like I’d said something flip, like I was trying to be a smartass. And I swallowed when she looked at me like she might throw the half-eaten bowl of cereal sitting on the nightstand straight at my head.
“That’s not what you said before. You said you loved him and he loved you and there’s nothing I can do about it.” She shook her head and grabbed my wrist, her eyes filled with confusion and anger.
When she grabbed my wrist her voice faded to the background and the Sight took over. Not now. But there was nothing I could do to stop it. The force of the vision hit me. My mother was laying on top the flowered bedspread with her hands behind her head. Her sweater was bunched around her ribcage and a boy sat beside her, rubbing her flat stomach.
“Hello, in there?” The boy grinned. “Do you think he can hear me?”
She laughed at him. “Oh? And what if it’s a girl?”
“I’ll teach her how to play football too.”
“No, seriously—you want a boy, don’t you?”
Suddenly, his expression turned serious. “If it’s a girl she’ll be smart and beautiful…” He bent down and kissed Sara. “…just like her mom,” he murmured against her mouth.
Sara smiled. “And what do you think we should call her?”
“I kind of like Beth.”
“I like Holly. And if we have a boy?”
Holly Beth.
My father must have named me before giving me up for adoption, but I’d ended up in the foster care system instead so it never changed.
