Winter in Full Bloom

by Anita Higman

  I rose to help her, but she stayed me with her hand.

  “Here, girl, pour yourself some water,” Mother said.

  My sister complied and then sat back down with a defiant plop.

  I wasn’t sure how long I could swallow my anger toward Mother and her insensitivity toward Camille. I felt a craving to pick at my fingers but instead dug my fingernails into my palms.

  “As I was saying,” Mother went on, “a couple came forward who agreed to adopt you, even though they knew about your sickly constitution. I stayed in touch with your adoptive mother, Naomi, for a while, to make sure they treated you well. From all appearances you were in good hands. But then your parents moved around so often, I lost track of you. In the end, I thought it was best to let you go. To let this family take care of you.”

  An eerie silence settled over Camille, and then she said, “In a way, this is much worse than I imagined. I was traded in for an inheritance like a person cashes in chips at a casino.”

  “Oh, such a gift for drama, just like Lily,” Mother said. “You are identical to your sister. For your information, I didn’t care that much for the money, but your father was keen on it, since he couldn’t hold down a decent job if his life depended on it.”

  Camille shook her head as she rose. “So many excuses, so little love.” She walked over to a bookshelf, pulled out a volume, and opened it. “You could have said no to your mother. Pure and simple.”

  “Bah. No one said no to her.” Mother took another sip from her water glass. “And it did seem like the most humane way to handle the situation.”

  Camille slammed the book shut. “But I was your flesh and blood, not some mongrel dog to dump at the pound!”

  “There is more to the story if you can be silent for a moment.” Mother tried to set her water glass on the end table, but it slipped slightly and nearly toppled. She righted the glass, and then her face contorted into a glare as she looked at the portrait of our father on the wall. “Maternity was forced onto me by my husband, you see. I had told him right from the beginning I never wanted to have children. I didn’t have enough motherly instincts for it … but you know how men can be when they want their way about things. So, Camille, be grateful you had Naomi. And Lily, be glad you had some good nannies over the years, especially Nanny Kate. Well, of course none of that came to be until after my mother passed away and we were able to afford it, but my point is there are things to be thankful for in all of this.”

  “More excuses. Nothing more.” Camille slipped the book back on the shelf, walked over to the solarium, and placed her palm on the glass the way she’d done the day on the tram. “I feel sorry for Lily, to have had you for a mother … someone who didn’t care about her own children. You didn’t have to follow in your mother’s footsteps, you know. You could have been different. You could have been a great mother, but you chose not to be. It’s as simple and as heartless as that.”

  “Watch what you’re saying, girl. I did give you life,” Mother said. “I deserve to be—”

  “No. You’re wrong.” Camille said softly. “God gave me life.” This time she didn’t turn around.

  “Oh, let’s not go down that road,” Mother said. “Leave God out of it.”

  I couldn’t restrain my indignation any longer. “That’s been your problem, Mother. You have left God out of everything, including the decisions you made long ago and even now. You’ve come up with explanations today for what happened all those years ago … money problems, illness, lack of natural longings to mother, pressure, whatever. But your reasoning is like a serious crack in a priceless vase. With your excuses you’ve reduced the precious blessing of motherhood into a piece of garage sale rubbish.”

  I stood, looking at Mother without turning away. “What Camille didn’t tell you was that she was physically abused by the man you handed her over to. One time she almost died from one of those beatings. Does that rouse any motherly instincts in you?”

  “How could I have known that someone who acted like a good father would turn out to be a hooligan?” Mother asked. “How could that possibly—”

  “He was far more than a mere hoon, Mrs. Gray,” Camille said from the window. “He belonged in prison.”

  “Yes, that’s true.” I turned back to Mother. “My point is … you and Father could have found a way to keep this family together. When I think of my own daughter, Julie, there isn’t anything that could have taken her away from me. Not illness or poverty. Or threats from you or anyone. I would have fought for her until I had no breath left in my body.” My hands tightened into fists until they went numb.

  Mother grinned. “So, the Land Down Under has given you some real backbone, I see.”

  “No,” I said, “it was always there. I inherited it from you.”

  The room got quiet while Mother mulled over a reply that surprised even me.

  I wasn’t sure if my last comment was a compliment or a criticism.

  Someone tapped on the semi-closed door, making me jump.

  I frowned at the interruption. “Please not now, Dragan,” I muttered.

  “Hellooo,” a man’s voice could be heard from behind the study door. “Some woman named Dragon said I should let myself in.”

  I knew that voice, but it wasn’t possible. “Marcus, is that you?”

  “Lily?” The door swung open, and there stood Marcus, as handsome and sunny and cheeky as ever. Even though it had only been a short time since I’d seen him last, oh how I had missed that blue-eyed twinkle.

  “Marcus.” I strode over to him, and he took me into his arms. “What are you doing here?” I folded into his embrace, a place that felt good and right and safe. Even his green silk shirt felt inviting. He’d brought Australia with him, and every memory made there.

  “I’m here because of the weather,” he said.

  I chuckled. “What does that mean?”

  Marcus pulled away and held me by my shoulders. “The weather got too cold without you. Couldn’t stand it for one more minute.”

  I laughed a laugh brimming with delight. I felt like a child on Christmas morning.

  My mother cleared her throat. “So, who are you?”

  Her voice shook me back to reality.

  As Marcus walked toward Mother, he nodded to my sister. “Good to see you.”

  “Hi, Marcus. What a happy surprise,” Camille said.

  Marcus gave my sister a wave. “Thanks.” Then he bowed slightly to Mother. “You must be Mrs. Gray. I can see where the twins get their beauty.”

  Mother laughed, but it was more blustery than buoyant. “Who are you, besides being a liar?”

  “I am Marcus Averill from Melbourne. And I have been called many things in my life, but never a liar.” He reached out his hand so decisively that Mother reached out and allowed him to give her hand a small shake.

  “Mother, Marcus and I became good friends while I was there.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “We are a bit more than good friends, Lily, dear.” He turned back to Mother.

  Mother shifted in her chair, examining Marcus as if he were a specimen in a jar. “Are you here on business?”

  Marcus looked back at her with a curious glint. “No, I’m here for Lily. She took Australia by storm, you see, and the continent has not quite recovered. At least I haven’t.”

  “Bah.” Mother flubbered out a mouthful of air. “Are you really saying that you came all the way here from Australia for Lily?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Gray,” Marcus said, “that is exactly what I’m saying.”

  Mother donned a dubious expression. “Why in the world?”

  I wanted to groan at Mother’s insensitive response, but Marcus simply replied, “Because when Lily left me we needed more time to explore our feelings for each other. By coming here … I’m giving us that time.”

  “Mother, aren’t you going to invite Marcus to sit down?”

  “No worries.” Marcus put up his hands. “I see that I’ve intruded, so I’ll be on my
way back to the Silver Bayou Inn. Lily, I’m hoping to see you later today for dinner. We have each other’s cell phone numbers.” Then he turned to my mother. “It was good to meet you, Mrs. Gray.” He gave Camille a friendly wave, and then after a wink directed at me, he quickly made his departure.

  All I could think to do next was escape from Mother’s stuffy old mansion and spend the rest of the day with Marcus and Camille. I couldn’t believe that he’d come so quickly—that he cared that much. My whole body felt like one enormous grin.

  “Well, I’m zonked,” Camille suddenly said. “I’d like to go back to your house, Lily.” She turned to Mother. “Mrs. Gray, it’s been… well, enlightening.”

  Mother made a snuffling noise I hadn’t heard before. Did she have the beginnings of a cold? “Well, you’ve come all this way,” she said. “You might as well visit me once more before you go back to Melbourne.”

  “It depends on how I feel,” Camille said, sounding more weary than usual.

  “So, you never recovered your health in all these years?” Mother asked.

  “No, I never did. But I’m alive and grateful.” Camille pulled a small package out of her pocket. “I almost forgot. I brought you a lamington. I wanted you to have something sweet from Melbourne. Thought you might like it.” She set the little Aussie cake down on the coffee table.

  “Lamington?” Mother said, gaping at the little sponge cake. “I don’t usually indulge in such nonsense, but maybe this one time.”

  “Well, hoo-roo,” Camille said.

  “What did you call me?” Mother asked.

  Camille grinned. “It means goodbye.”

  “Oh. Goodbye then.” Mother leaned forward and watched Camille walk out the door with more curiosity than I would have imagined. She even reached for the cube-shaped cake and placed it on her lap.

  But Camille never glanced back to see the inquisitive expression on Mother’s face.

  “Goodbye, Mother.” A “thank you” for finding her daughter would have been appreciated, but it certainly wasn’t expected. I walked out of the study and shut the door. Dragan had vanished like a dust devil in a rain shower. We were more than happy to let ourselves out.

  “Well, what did you think of Mother?” I asked Camille when we were settled in my car. “It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

  Camille laced her fingers together on her lap. “I do feel sorry for you. To have grown up that way. It really must have been difficult. She is a hard woman with some serious issues. And I agree that somehow, even though she doesn’t admit to any guilt over what happened, the past has made her bitter and miserable. She needs a good cleansing of the soul.”

  I turned on the engine. “Maybe now that you’re here, it will be the impetus she needs to take a good look at the past, to see the truth. Maybe light can come to this dark gray forest after all.”

  Camille’s shoulders drooped. “It would take a miracle.”

  “She did ask us to visit again. I was surprised about that.”

  “I don’t know, Lily. You want this so badly… all this reconciliation and restoration. But I’m just glad to have a sister. It might be too much trouble to make Mrs. Gray come around. And too much pain.” Camille rubbed her stomach. “Speaking of pain, I don’t feel that well. I need to go to bed when we get home. Must be traveler’s malaise.”

  I reached over and felt her forehead. “No fever. That’s good. We’ll get you right to bed with some chicken soup.”

  “Thanks.”

  I grinned. “Since Julie’s gone it’s nice to have someone to pamper. But I’m sorry you don’t feel well. I’ll get you fixed up. No worries.”

  Camille smiled at my attempt to sound like an Aussie.

  “I’m not worried. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder how I managed without a sister all these years.” Her eyes and voice softened into earnestness. “Say, you know that day on the tram when you showed up, running after me?”

  “How could I ever forget it?” I grinned.

  “Well, I’d just prayed … an hour before … that if my life wasn’t going in the right direction, that God would rescue me from myself. That He would provide me a way out of the life I’d created. And then there you were.”

  “I’m glad I was there. I’ve needed you my whole life and never even knew it.”

  She chuckled.

  I gave her hand a squeeze and then said, “Say, I didn’t know you had a degree in botany.”

  “There’s still a lot you don’t know about me. But I’m sure I will tell all … in good time.”

  I guess Camille didn’t know all my secrets either, but hopefully we’d have lots of moments in the future to pick through the old trunks of our pasts.

  After I drove Camille back to my house and got her all snug in bed and sipping on a mug of chicken soup, she patted my hand and singsonged, “Okay, Mommy, you’ve done your best.”

  I grinned at her reference to me as mom. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Yes, I do. I want you to go visit Marcus. He’s probably at his hotel, watching reruns of some awful reality TV show and bored out of his mind, counting the minutes until he can have dinner with you tonight.”

  “It still amazes me that he followed behind us so quickly.”

  “Handle him with care,” Camille said. “It must be very serious on his part if he couldn’t do without you for a few hours.”

  “I missed him too.”

  “Well then, I expect to be a maid of honor soon.”

  “Whoa.” I laughed. “I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here, but thanks for your confidence.”

  “One more thing.” Camille went somber on me. “Maybe I’m becoming a worrywart like you, but—”

  “Hey—”

  “Now, now.” She held up her hands. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, but I hope you don’t ruin your chances with Marcus.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Camille shrugged. “If I say it out loud it might sound silly, but okay … well, when an eagle loses a feather on one side of its wings, it drops a feather on the other side. Sort of a balancing act. It just happens. One of the mysteries of nature.”

  “Obviously, you must have a deeper meaning here.”

  “I hope since I lost Jerald that you won’t somehow lose Marcus.” She gave her head a little shake. “I told you it would sound silly. I’m just afraid you might do something, even if it’s subconsciously, that might make Marcus go away … you know, in an effort to make me feel less lonely or—”

  “Please don’t think that. I’m plenty selfish enough that I wouldn’t break things off with Marcus to make you feel better about Jerald. We’re fine. I promise.”

  “Good honest answer. I’m glad to hear it. So, in that case, go, Lily.” Camille shooed me. “Go put him out of his misery, and go have a good time. You always look like you’re in need of a fun day.”

  “Are you sure you’re not just trying to get rid of me so you can polish off the last of the cookie dough ice cream in the freezer?”

  “What? You’ve got cookie dough?”

  “The good kind.” I smiled. “It’s yours if you want it.”

  “Okay, thanks. But go.”

  I went to the bedroom door and turned back. “You have my number if you need me. I’ll have my cell phone right with me, so—”

  “Gooo, Lily.”

  I chuckled. “Okaaay. I’m going.”

  I thought I’d surprise Marcus by dropping by his hotel, although surprises had never been my thing. But I gave myself a nudge and did it anyway.

  The Silver Bayou Inn turned out to be a lovely boutique hotel located in the heart of Houston. After I parked and made my way inside, I excitedly pushed in the numbers to Marcus’s cell number to tell him of my unannounced visit. I glanced around the lobby, and my breath caught at the sight of Marcus sitting with a woman. To be more exact—a beautiful red-haired woman with big Texas hair and enough curves to make an overstuffed couch envious.<
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  The woman leaned her head toward Marcus as they stared at a book. The picture of them together, looking so intimate—hair touching hair—pierced me through. It didn’t look like Camille would have to worry about Marcus being at the hotel in any kind of misery, waiting for me. He looked far from woeful.

  So, who was this woman, and what were they looking at? Had he already found someone else in the short hours I was away? Was he a man a little too much like my husband? I hadn’t known Marcus long after all. In fact, we had what some people would call a whirlwind romance—a phrase I never would have imagined attaching to my life. But there it was.

  Feeling suddenly embarrassed about being there and a little lightheaded, I walked and then sprinted toward the main double doors of the hotel. Just when I thought I might make a clean escape I took one more glance back at them, which made my foot catch on the base of a potted palm. I landed, sprawled out on the slick ceramic-tiled floor like a flattened turtle. For a second I remained that way—in one of the most unladylike poses imaginable.

  Then as if things couldn’t get worse, in the seconds I raised my head to gain my equilibrium, I looked up to see Marcus and the red-haired woman gazing down at me like I was an alien who’d just landed in the hotel lobby.

  “Lily, what in the world happened?” Marcus scooped me up faster than I could say bombshell. “Are you all right, Love?”

  “I will be in a minute or two.” Humiliation had never been so ripe for the plucking. I tried the act of breathing again. My lungs appeared to be functional.

  “We both glanced up as you were taking your tumble,” Marcus said. “Did you sprain anything?” He didn’t let go of his firm hold on me.

  “No, I don’t think so.” I dusted off my blue silk dress, the one I’d worn to impress Marcus. To make him think I was the most beautiful woman in the world. Hmm. I was obviously delusional. My dress now had a tear. And so did my pride.

  The woman said, “You must be the Lily.” She gave her big hair a shake. “What a delight to meet you. I’m Pamela Sky.”

  Pamela shook my hand so hard I thought my arm might jerk right off like a loose limb on a Mr. Potato Head toy.