Double Jeopardy
Page 6
“I agree but that’s the way things work, especially in a corrupt government,” Finn said.
Phineas and Phyl joined us for coffee. I wiped away the tear. My hormones dictated. Explaining grief for someone I’d met for fifteen minutes was not on my evening agenda.
“Did you tell Finn about the lovely split level we found in the Morningside Estates?” Phyl trilled. She was like a little whippoorwill which was usually wonderful but I suddenly found annoying.
“Not yet,” I replied.
“Is it what we want?” my husband asked. He lifted my chin, saw my watery eyes, and decided to leave well enough alone.
Phineas sipped his coffee which was more cream that coffee. He took a cue from Finn and tried to change the subject.
“Finn, do we have the sole rights to the article about the smuggling ring on the Atlantic coastline?”
“I don’t know Dad but I will check with Quin tomorrow morning. Mollie and I are going to do some house hunting on our own, aren’t we dear?”
“Why yes,” I replied. It was as big a surprise to me as to his mother, who stirred her coffee a little briskly and pored over the evening paper.
After retiring to our room, Finn showed me the rest of the package’s contents. Evira had sent a brooch and a ring ‘for our family’ she noted. I had a little crying jag thinking of the family she would never have – just like my beautiful twin, Maggie.
I tried to put that behind me and dwell on the beautiful gift that God had given us – a child of our own.
22
Life continued until the day Finn and I signed the papers to move to our own home. The room in the Anderson household was getting crowded with the two of us plus Nemo. The little puppy we adopted had become full grown. He was a good-natured dog who desperately needed a yard.
I resigned my full-time position at the Beacon and only wrote freelance articles. This arrangement seemed to suit everyone. Finn was full time now but Mr. A was available as a resource.
My in-laws traveled a bit and Mr.A wrote an occasional feature for the newspaper. Phyl was involved in community affairs, various charities, and church. They began a redesign of one of the bedrooms and referred to it as the ‘nursery wing.’
When the property on 8th Street was finally ours, Callie came over to help me unpack. Charlie was three years. It was wonderful to think that our offspring would be playmates.
“On my preliminary visit, the obstetrician asked me lots of questions about me, my twin, and our mother’s pregnancy with us, and typical family history. Questions that I wish I knew. Mother’s doctor died years ago and the records are who knows where? All this has made me grieve all over again. It’s the first time I’ve come to grips with what being an orphan really means.”
I could tell I’d gone too far. Callie began to cry. We held each other and sobbed. Charlie stopped building roads with his Tonka cars and stared at us. If he could express it, he’d probably say ‘Mom and Aunt Mollie are nuts.’
“Damn hormones,” I said.
Callie agreed.
We returned to packing up the kitchen in silence. Callie took Charlie home for a nap. I was placing books on the library shelves when I found Mom’s diary. She had taken her temperature every day for month, I surmise that it was for conception purposes. But there was no date. On the prospect of becoming a mom, I realized that when you lose your parents you not only lose their presence but the wealth of family history that they embody.
In our family, Maggie and I never knew either set of grandparents and very few aunts, uncles, or cousins. When Maggie died, I lost contact with the world for a while. I was still consumed with Maggie’s loss when Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. So in order to make every moment count, I walled out the world and devoted myself to her treatment. I don’t regret anything but it would have been nice to grow up with a lot of family around. When I finished the bookcase, I lay down on the futon in the study.
I must have been still in that in-between awake and asleep stage when Maggie’s voice came through loud and clear.
You’ll be okay sis. You will have the family you desire. Your girls will be like us.
I shook my head. Maggie’s dream message was just telling me what I wanted to hear. I wasn’t very far along and I dared not hope for twins. When I told Finn what Maggie whispered to me. He said, ‘from your mouth to God’s ear.’
God was certainly listening because the Anderson twins were the first newborns of the year. Their grandfather took out an entire page in the Northeast Georgia Beacon to announce their arrival. Phyl floated for the entire nine months.
My mother-in-love cried when we told her the names: Maggie Evira and Phoebe (Phee) Bradford Anderson. In naming the girls, Finn and I decided to honor the women who had touched our lives and were forever in our hearts and minds.
So I had come full circle. It was my turn to say “kiss and make up” to these two angels I held in my arms. Someone once said, ‘grief is love with no place to go’ but I have so much love and plenty of places for the love to go. Finn, Phee, Maggie and I want to enjoy the journey wherever it takes us.
***
Did you miss Kiss and Make Up or Dead Ringer?
Sheila S. Hudson is the author of the Thursday Club series: Murder at Golden Palms, Murder at Sea, Murder at the Mandelay, Murder at the Monastery, Murder on the Marquee, and Murder under the Christmas Tree published by Take Me Away Books.
Sheila is also the author of Classic City Murders: Volumes I and II published by ThomasMax Publishers, Inc. Her first publications were two nonfiction books: 13 Decisions That Will Change Your Life and 13 Decisions That Will Transform Your Marriage (Dancing with Bear Publishing). Sheila has contributed to Not Your Mother’s Book (2), Chocolate for Women (8), Chicken Soup, Patchwork Path (2), Love Stories (2) plus numerous periodicals.
All are available at www.amazon.com or on her website www.sheilahudsonwriter.com
Her byline also appears in Purple Pros and Costumer Magazine. Bright Ideas, the parent company, was established to bring hope and inspiration through the written/spoken word. Since 1983, Sheila has been affiliated with Southeastern Writers Association including two terms as president. Contact her at: sheilahudson.writer@gmail.com; Sheila@13decisions.com or visit www.13decisions.com or www.sheilahudsonwriter.com for information on speaking engagements and forthcoming books.
Sheila and her husband, Timothy L. Hudson, have worked in campus ministry for over 30 years -- 5 years with Christian Student Fellowship at Northern Kentucky University and 28 years at Christian Campus Ministry at the University of Georgia. They have been married for 49 years and have two daughters, a son, and seven grandsons.