I left the agency and stopped at Jack’s Bar. I’d promised Claire I’d drop off the dress she’d let me borrow back when I actually had a life and went on dates. The Before Piper era. I figured I’d see Nick. He usually stopped in for Wednesday’s wing special before heading to his second-shift job at the Harley plant. He built motorcycles and loved riding them. He promised to take me for a ride, but that was before Piper came into my life and turned it upside down. I didn’t blame her, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have moments of resentment.
The bar, located in the neighborhood where I used to live, had its regulars. Nick, a few years older than me, was one of them. I missed bartending at Jack’s. The bar, with its exposed brick walls and creaky wooden floor, wasn’t much to look at but it had a charm all its own. Despite feeling like I was working in a cave, with its lack of natural light, I’d spent more time at Jack’s than I had anywhere else, except college, in the past two years. I was grateful that when I needed a job, Jack had given me one. And he always worked around my class schedule.
As soon as I walked in the door, I saw Nick in his usual seat chewing on wings. He nodded. I waved to Claire, who was slicing limes behind the bar, and slid into the stool next to Nick. “I thought maybe I’d find you here.”
Nick smiled. “Guess I’m a creature of habit.”
Secretly, I liked Nick. His appearance was always a bit messy, but it worked for him. I liked his tousled brown hair, five o-clock shadow, tight gray T-shirt and jeans. And his eyes. His chocolate-colored eyes were like exclamation points at the end of a really great sentence. Come with me! Don’t go! I love you!
Claire walked over, wiping her hands on a white rag. I handed her the bag containing her dress. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to hold on to it?”
I laughed. “Like I’m going to need a dress like that anytime soon. My dating days are over.”
“Yeah, right,” Claire said. “I’m ninety-nine point six percent certain you’ll date again.”
I laughed. Claire always had to look at things in terms of percentages. It was annoying yet somewhat charming. I’m sixty-six percent sure your bread is moldy or I’m eighty-nine percent certain you already bought that shade of nail polish, she’d say. She was the only person I knew who had this peculiar habit. And if I were a betting girl, I’d have listened to her. She was right ninety-nine point nine percent of the time!
Nick picked up a paper towel and wiped off his messy hands. Whenever he ate wings, we knew to pile a half-dozen paper towels on the bar beside him. He hated using napkins. Said they were too thin and always ripped. He took a sip of his beer. “It would be a damn shame if you never dated again, Rachel.”
I have to admit my heart fluttered. I caught Claire’s glance out of the corner of my eye. She knew I thought Nick was sexy. “Why would it be a shame?” I asked.
He shrugged. “You just seem like the type of girl who should have someone special. Settle down. Have kids.”
I held up my hand. “Stop! No kids. I have a kid now and I never want another one.”
“Piper is your sister,” Nick said. “That’s not exactly the same thing.”
I could feel my anger begin to boil. “The hell it isn’t. Who’s raising her? Me. Who gets up in the middle of the night to calm her after a bad dream? Me. Who buys her clothes and food and pretty barrettes? Me. Who takes care of her when she’s sick?”
“Okay. Okay.” Nick held up both hands. “I take it back. I guess you’re a special case.”
“I’m a special case, all right.” I rolled my eyes.
“Look,” Claire said. “I know it’s hard raising Piper and I know it’s not what you planned. But you are doing an amazing job. You know what foster care was like for us. Besides Miss Evelyn, you and I ended up in some pretty crappy places.”
Claire was right. We’d both loved living with Miss Evelyn, but the other homes we’d been placed in weren’t much better than the ones we’d come from, especially the Jordans. They had an older boy and he always wanted to see my private parts. He paid me a nickel to show him and I did it. He never touched me, he just looked. I saved the nickels and, when I had enough, bought a candy bar. Then, one night, Jordan came into my room and he wanted to do more than look. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
“You’re giving her a much better home than she would’ve had otherwise,” Claire said.
“I know, I know. It’s just that it’s so hard. I miss my old life.”
“So get some of it back,” Claire said. “Just because you’re Piper’s guardian doesn’t mean you have to give up everything. If you want to go out on a date, get a babysitter.”
I shook my head. “Not now. Maybe in time. Piper is too anxious. I think she’s afraid I’m going to leave her like Mom. She follows me around the house like a puppy. She wants to be in whatever room I’m in. I miss my privacy.”
Claire cleared away Nick’s plates. “Anything else?”
He shook his head. He finished his beer and pushed the pint glass toward Claire. Claire picked up the glass and put it in the small dishwasher behind the bar.
Nick shifted in his stool so he was turned toward me. “Claire’s right, you know? It’s great what you’re doing for Piper. But that doesn’t mean you can’t date.”
“Who’s going to want to date someone that has this kind of baggage? I wouldn’t.”
“I see your point,” Claire said. “But you never know.”
“Yeah, you never know,” Nick said.
The alert on my phone sounded. “I have to go. I promised Piper I’d meet her at the bus stop.” I slid off the bar stool and grabbed my purse. “Thanks again, Claire, for letting me borrow the dress.”
“Anytime. I miss you!”
“I miss you, too.”
Nick ran his fingers through his hair. “Later, Rachel. Take care of the kid. And yourself.”
“Thanks.” I walked out the door and climbed into my car. I heard the text alert on my phone and pulled it out of my purse. Claire had texted me. Nick watched you leave.
I texted back a smiley face emoticon.
I pulled up to the bus stop and parked. I’d planned on parking at our apartment and walking up to the stop, but the traffic was heavier than I thought it’d be and there wasn’t enough time. I got out of the car and walked up to the corner behind a woman pushing a stroller and talking on a cellphone. Two moms were chatting about a TV show and a dad was trying to keep his toddler content by tossing a plastic ball with him. The stroller mom stopped beside me. I heard her say goodbye.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Heather.”
I held out my hand. “Rachel.”
“I’m not looking forward to filling out all the paperwork tonight, are you?”
“Paperwork?”
“Oh, this is your first, huh?”
She didn’t wait for me to reply but jumped right into the next sentence. “There’s always a ton of paperwork to fill out on the first day. I hate it and of course my husband doesn’t want to be bothered so that means it’s all on me. With two kids in school now that’s double the paperwork. Ugh!”
Just as she finished her lament, the bus turned into the apartment complex. The guy tossing the ball with the toddler picked up the boy. The women discussing the TV show stopped talking. All eyes were on the bus as it came to a screeching halt. The kids tumbled out of the door and ran into open arms. A little girl bounced over to Heather and hugged her baby sister and then her mom. Twin boys ran to one of the moms who’d been talking TV only seconds before. Soon every parent had a kid – except me.
My heart started to race. Thump! Thump! Thump! I hated that I felt so parental. I didn’t want to be. I wanted to be the carefree twenty-two-year-old I was three months ago. What was wrong with me? Just as I was about to peek inside the bus and talk to the driver, Piper appeared.
Her cheeks were blotchy and red. She’d been crying. When she saw me, a smile erupted on her face. �
��You came!”
She ran to me, dropped her backpack and threw her arms around my waist.
“Of course, Pipe. I told you I’d be here when you came home.”
I caught a few smiles from other parents as they glanced in our direction.
I rubbed the top of Piper’s head. She squeezed my waist so tightly I couldn’t move. “Are you ready to go home?”
She let go of my waist and nodded. “It took a long time for that bus to come and get me.”
Piper said the funniest things and I couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go home and you can tell me all about it.”
Piper emptied her backpack onto the kitchen table. Heather was right. There was a ton of paperwork to fill out. I sorted through the papers while Piper ate a bowl of cereal.
“So, did you like school?”
Piper shook her head while continuing to shovel cereal into her mouth as if she were afraid someone would take the bowl away if she stopped.
“What did you eat in school?”
“Nuggets.”
I looked at the school menu. It was the only blue paper in Piper’s stack. “Oh, you like chicken nuggets.”
Piper scrunched her freckled nose. “Their nuggets tasted funny.”
I looked at the menu. “What about the pudding? You were supposed to have pudding. Did you like that?”
“I like Mommy’s pudding. She puts whipped cream on top. I asked for whipped cream but they didn’t have any.”
I decided that perhaps food wasn’t a great topic. “I bet you made a lot of new friends.”
She shook her head.
“Oh, come on. You met Jacy.”
Finally, a smile. I mentioned Jacy and Piper’s face lit up like a slot machine when the jackpot’s won.
“Jacy and I sat at the same table. Mrs. Baker picked us to be line leaders when we walked to the cafeteria. And we swung together at recess.”
Piper finished her cereal and I listened as she told me all about Jacy. I learned Jacy could read an entire book, could go the whole way across the monkey bars without falling and didn’t have any brothers or sisters but a dog named Winnie the Poodle.
“Winnie the Poodle?”
Piper nodded. “Yep. It’s a poodle and she likes Winnie the Pooh. Winnie the Poodle. Get it?”
I smiled. “Then that’s a great name.”
“I wish I could have a dog,” Piper said.
I looked up from the health information sheet I was trying to fill out. It’s really hard to fill out a questionnaire about someone’s health when you’ve only know the person for a few months. “Pipe, we talked about this. No animals. They’re too expensive. There’s shots and vet visits, not to mention food.”
Piper’s face deflated like a balloon popped with a pin. Poof! The happiness gone in an instant. “When I get older I’m going to get a dog. I’ll name her Linda.”
Piper’s chin wobbled and her eyes filled with tears. I knew a storm was brewing in her head and buckets of tears were about to rain down her cheeks. Still, I wasn’t about to agree to a dog. “Come here,” I said.
She slid out of her chair and walked to me. I looked into her eyes and brushed her hair back off her face. “I’m not saying you can’t have a dog because I’m trying to be mean. We just really can’t afford it right now.”
Piper sniffed.
“I need to finish filling out this paperwork. Why don’t you go play for a while?”
Piper nodded and went into the living room but positioned herself on the floor so she could see me while she played with her doll.
“Don’t worry, Linda.”
Every time I heard my dead mother’s name it startled me. It’s like that name is associated with fear and no matter how many times Piper says it my reaction is always the same. It makes me jump and wince. I looked up and watched as Piper hugged her baby doll. “I’ll take good care of you. And you can get a dog. What kind would you like? A Yorkie-Poo? They’re cute.”
I bit my lip and returned to filling out the paperwork. A form sent home from the PTO requested help for school activities. Spirit wear sale. Fall festival. Christmas candy fundraiser. I remember when I was in school I’d always wished my mom would be one of those parents who volunteered for homeroom activities. I remember one time we were going on a field trip and my teacher was looking for chaperones. I begged my mom to volunteer but she said she was too busy, and that was for moms who didn’t have anything else better to do. She did. She had to work two jobs to take care of me. That was a constant reminder. I looked down at the form and checked all of the boxes. I didn’t want to become my mother.
Chapter 4
Mary
The cleaning agency called to tell me they were sending someone the next day. They didn’t tell me much, other than that she was twenty-two and very thorough. I finished reading the paper and then called the florist to have flowers delivered to June’s funeral. She’d moved to Arizona shortly after my parents sent me away and the service and burial were there.
She still had relatives living in the area, which I guess is why the local newspaper carried her obituary. I didn’t plan on attending the service, but I thought a basket of flowers would be a nice gesture.
I showered and made it to my doctor’s appointment with five minutes to spare.
The nurse opened the door to the waiting room. “Mrs. McAlaster?”
I stood and followed her down the hall.
“You’re in room seven today. Do you think you could give me a urine sample?”
I nodded.
She pointed to the bathroom. “There are cups in there. Just leave the cup on the sink when you’re done and I’ll get it. Then go into the room and put on the gown. I’ll be right in to go over your family history.”
By the time I’d undressed and put on the soft pink cover-up that snapped in the front the nurse was knocking on the door.
“Come in,” I said.
“How have you been feeling, Mary?”
“Can’t complain. Little aches and pains here and there, but that’s to be expected for my age.”
The nurse proceeded to go over my family history. Ovarian cancer?
“No.”
“Breast cancer on your mother’s side?”
“Yes.”
“And you had one breast biopsy but that was, let’s see…” She scrolled up the laptop screen. “In 1997. And since then your mammograms have been normal.”
“That’s correct. The 1997 biopsy showed no sign of cancer. I had calcifications but was told they were nothing to worry about.”
She proceeded to go over my history. “And you’ve never been pregnant, correct? No miscarriages or abortions?”
I’ve always said no to this question, but something made me want to say yes. What did it matter now? Hadn’t I kept this secret long enough? Besides, Mother and Father and James were long gone. I kept the secret because they’d asked me to. They’d always been so worried about what other people would think. And I’d kept their secret, too. Again, because they’d asked me to. But the world had changed in the last fifty years. Nowadays women had children out of wedlock and men and women had same-sex partners and some of them had children, either biological or adopted. Sometimes, I wondered what it would’ve been like had I been born twenty years later.
I never had the chance to tell Teddy I was carrying his child. Mother found me throwing up one morning and cornered me in the bathroom. Teddy was on vacation with his family and by the time he’d returned my parents had sent me away. But sometimes I wondered what would’ve happened if Mother hadn’t found me and I had been able to tell Teddy. Would my life have turned out differently?
“Mary?” the nurse asked.
“Yes.”
She looked out over her glasses. “Yes, you’ve never been pregnant?”
“That’s correct,” I said, knowing that even now I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone the truth. The ghosts of Mother and Father and James still haunted me and I guess they would forever.
I suppose never having children is one of the reasons why I’ve done so much to help them now. I think about my daughter. What became of her? Did she grow up and become a mother? Was I a grandmother and didn’t know it? Did she ever try to find me? I’d thought about finding her a time or two, but gave up. I reasoned that not knowing anything about her might be better than learning something terrible. I had enough terrible in my life.
My doctor’s office was located next to the hospital. I’d often go over when I was out this way to look at the babies in the nursery.
I followed an older man into the elevator. “Third floor, please.”
He smiled. “That’s where they keep the babies, right?”
I nodded.
“Are you one of those grandma rockers?”
He must have noticed the puzzled look on my face. “You know, those older women who volunteer to cuddle the sick babies?”
I shook my head. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I’d plan to find out.
I walked down the hall painted a creamy yellow and turned the corner. I wasn’t the only one visiting babies today. There were four others with their noses smashed against the glass wall. I walked over and peeked through the glass. There were seven babies lined up in two straight rows. The boys had blue caps on their heads and the girls wore pink.
“Aren’t they just darling?” a woman in a wheelchair said.
“Very.”
“Is one of them your grandchild?” she asked.
“No. I just came to visit. How about you?”
She shook her head. “Our grandson is in the neonatal intensive care unit.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
She held up her finger as if she were about to lecture me. “But he’s a fighter. He’s getting stronger every day. He was just born a little too soon.”
The woman wheeled away and I went back to watching through the window. Their hands were so tiny and they all had such cute little bow lips. It still amazed me that something so beautiful had come out of me but I never got to see her. Oh, how I would’ve loved to hold my daughter’s tiny hand in mine. To cuddle and kiss her to pieces. A tear slid down my cheek. I turned and saw a nurse headed in my direction.
Our Fragile Hearts Page 3
