The Secrets Mothers Keep

by Jacquie Underdown

  “Mary,” she says, inspecting her sister, first her chest. She’s breathing. Thank god, she’s breathing. She touches her face, lightly slapping against her sallow, clammy cheeks. “Mary. Mary. Can you hear me?” Her words are frantic now. Her pulse is rocketing.

  She will never forgive herself if she has hurt her sister.

  She was only trying to help.

  “Mary,” she says louder.

  Mary’s eyes slowly open and she groans.

  “I’m calling the ambulance. You hang on there.” All Grace can assume is that perhaps she’s had a stroke or … or …

  She pulls her phone out of her pants pocket and dials triple zero. Tears swim in her eyes, her lips tremble. She explains to the operator what has happened and offers the address.

  Grace reaches for a pillow from the couch and places it under Mary’s head. She holds Mary’s hand, willing her with all she is to be please be okay. “The ambulance is on their way. We’ll get you to a hospital and you’ll be taken care of.” She pats the back of her hand, then lurches to her feet and races out of the library to the top of the stairs.

  “June!” she screams as loud as she can. “June! Come here. Quickly. June! June, I need you.”

  June rushes through the back door and towards the staircase. She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands.

  “It’s Mary. She’s had a spell. I’ve called the ambulance.”

  June’s face empties of colour as she races up the stairs. “What happened?”

  “Come. Quickly.”

  Grace doesn’t explain until they are both in the library. June crouches beside Mary. She’s awake but is staring up blankly, eyes unfocused.

  “What happened?” June asks again, terror in her tone.

  “She went to stand and she tipped over. I barely caught her in time. She would have fallen flat on her face.”

  June looks up at Grace. “Was she doing anything weird beforehand? Slurring?”

  Grace shakes her head. “She was quiet. Pale …” she hesitates and says in a softer tone, “I told her what I said to Lily-Rose.”

  June glares at Grace with flared nostrils, rage and disbelief burning in her eyes. Grace can’t maintain eye contact for long. June shakes her head and looks away. “We need to worry about Mary now. So you called the ambulance?”

  “They are on the way.”

  “You better get a hold of Lily-Rose and tell her what’s happened. She needs to come home right now. And call Pia. She’ll want to know too.” June's eyes are glossing and her throat is clogged, making each word deeper, breathless.

  “I’ll ring them both now.”

  Grace rushes out the door and leans back against the wall just outside the library. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to calm her nerves. When she has gained some composure, she calls Lily-Rose first, but there is no answer. So she sends a text.

  GRACE: Call me urgently. Mary has had a spell. We’ve called the ambulance. You need to get back ASAP.

  She scrolls through her contacts for Pia’s number. Pia answers immediately. “Aunt Grace?”

  “You need to head back. Mary has had a fall.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “I’m not sure. We’re still waiting for the ambulance.”

  A male voice sounds in the background. Pia’s muffled words come through the phone as though her hand is over the mouthpiece. “Nan has had a fall.”

  The male voice again. “We’ll head straight over.”

  “We’re five minutes away,” Pia says.

  Grace shakes her head, two lines of tension between her brows. “Where are you?”

  “I’m with Luca. We’re on our way. See you soon.”

  Grace ends the call, confused but not in any headspace to figure out the comings and goings of Pia’s life.

  The phone rings as she starts back to the library.

  “Lily-Rose. Thank god you called. You need to come home. Your Mum has had a fall.”

  “What happened?” Lily-Rose screeches.

  “We’re not entirely sure. But it looks serious.”

  “It’s not because of me, is it?”

  Grace shakes her head with frustration. “It doesn’t matter who or what caused it. Try to get home as soon as you can.”

  “Is she in hospital? What is wrong with her?”

  “We’re still waiting for the ambulance,” Grace says. “We don’t know what’s wrong yet.”

  “I’ll try and book a flight now. I’ll call you when I get in.”

  A knock comes at the front door. Grace shoves her phone back in her pocket and jogs down the stairs, breathless as she opens the door.

  “Upstairs,” she says to the young man and woman dressed in blue uniforms and with big cases in their hands.

  They rush up the stairs behind her. Panting heavily, Grace leads them to the library.

  “Okay, so this is Mary?” the woman asks.

  June slides out the way, so they can get to Mary’s side.

  “Yes,” Grace says from the back of the room. “She went to stand and fell over. She was out of it for a few moments. But then she opened her eyes, but she isn’t responding to any of us.”

  The man gloves up and takes her pulse, while the woman says, “Mary, we’re here to help you. Can you hear me?”

  No response, only that vague staring into space.

  “Pulse is forty-two bpms,” says the man, strapping a blood pressure band around Mary’s arm. It inflates with a whirr.

  Meanwhile, the woman listens to Mary’s chest with a stethoscope. “I’ll go get the stretcher.”

  The man nods.

  Within moments, the woman is back and they are lifting Mary onto the gurney and strapping her in. “Who will be riding with the patient?”

  Graces waves June forward. “You go. I’ll follow in the car.”

  Downstairs, out the front of the house, as they are wheeling Mary into the back of the ambulance, Pia pulls into the driveway in Luca’s ute. They both rush out.

  “How is she?” Pia asks.

  Grace shakes her head. “The same. They’re taking her to the health centre. They may need to transfer her to Launceston after that.”

  The ambulance officer shuts the back doors, locking Mary and June and the other officer inside.

  As the ambulance rushes away, Grace leans forward, hands on knees, and releases a long anguished moan.

  Pia is beside her, a hand on her back. “She’s in good hands now.”

  The burden of guilt and responsibility is warring within her. She should have kept her big bloody mouth shut.

  “Come on. We’ll head there in my ute,” Luca says.

  They arrive at the health centre a short while later and take a seat in the waiting room—a square room with stark white walls, pale blue plastic chairs and the scent of antiseptic.

  The chair beneath her is cold and digs into her hips. All through her body is a tight sensation of impatience. Will Mary be okay? She can’t bear to lose her.

  Pia and Luca sit to Grace’s left. Luca’s leg bounces up and down. Pia’s hand rests on his thigh. She hadn’t realised they were that close, but she is in no frame of mind to ask questions now.

  A doctor comes out after a half hour with June by her side. Grace looks up at her anxiously.

  “What’s the news?” Pia asks, words quick.

  The doctor smiles. If it were dire, surely the doctor wouldn’t be smiling. “She’s fine. But she was dehydrated and has a severe urinary tract infection. We’ve given her a drip to hydrate her and some strong antibiotics. It shouldn’t take long until she’s back to her old self.”

  Grace sighs with relief.

  “She will be lethargic and weak for a while yet, so we’ll keep her in for a couple days to make sure she’s responding to the antibiotics.”

  Grace nods.

  “I’ve given her strong painkillers to help with the pain, so she’s sleepy at the moment. But you can go in and see her if you like. Keep it to two visitors at a time, tho
ugh.”

  Again Grace nods.

  “You go in with Pia,” June says to Grace.

  Grace stands, wipes her palms on her pants.

  She and Pia follow the doctor to the room. A single room with a single bed. White walls. Pale blue linoleum floors. Various gadgets line the walls—blood pressure machines, lights, a heart monitor.

  Grace sits beside Mary on the bed. She strokes her sister’s hair from her forehead. Mary’s eyes are closed. How frail she appears.

  Pia kisses Mary’s head. “Hi, Nan,” she whispers, then takes a seat on the chair.

  When someone has been so strong for so long, it’s difficult to believe that they would ever become frail, but Grace can see the reality of that now.

  “I’m sorry,” Grace says. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave the past where it belongs.”

  Mary stirs, grimaces, but doesn’t open her eyes.

  Chapter 44

  Lily-Rose

  Lily-Rose’s heart is thumping up into her throat as she follows the nurse to Mum’s room. She isn’t sure what will happen when she looks at Mum knowing that this woman isn’t her biological mother.

  She rounds the corner into the small, plain room, the bright lighting casting an unnatural glow over everything as though mockingly amplifying reality. Reality, which in one single day is so different from the reality she had awoken to yesterday.

  Mum is sitting up in bed. Pale. Frail. The lines on her face and neck are more prominent.

  When had she gotten old?

  Lily-Rose swallows down the lump in her throat and meets Mum’s blue gaze. The anticipated stern reflection is not there. Instead, Mum’s eyes are glistening with tears. An expression of glass—every facet fragile.

  “Mum,” Lily-Rose says, but the word is caught in her throat and it comes out weak and husky.

  Tears swell and one rolls down Mum’s cheek. “Lily-Rose.” She reaches for a hanky in her dressing gown pocket with a shaking hand and dabs her eyes. An IV is taped to the back of her hand connecting her to a long tube that pumps fluid from a clear bag.

  Lily-Rose steps forward slowly and sits on the bed beside her. “How are you feeling?”

  Mum smiles, but her expression is slack, her eyes dull and wet. “Not the best.”

  Lily-Rose closes her eyes, her heart squeezing, unused to this admission of frailty. She can’t recall a single moment of frailty since Dad died.

  Dad. Mum. To call them that now is tainted with doubt like she no longer has the same rights where those monikers are concerned.

  “How are you?” Mum asks, unable to keep her gaze firmly on Lily-Rose’s.

  A half-smile. “I’ve been better.”

  Mum looks away, hunches. A deep ache pounds through Lily-Rose. Despite everything, the lies and secrets, she loves this woman as a child loves a mother, with all of her heart. And that simple fact is never more evident than now because to have lived, breathed and felt within every cell of her body over the last twenty-four hours the threat of losing the only woman she has ever called mother has been torturous.

  “I’m so sorry, Lily-Rose. I never ever meant to hurt you.” Tears fill Mum’s eyes again. Her words shake as they fall from her lips.

  “I know. But I need to hear your side of the story, so I can understand why better.”

  Mum closes her eyes—a lifetime of memories shifts in her expression. Her lips and brows twitch. She looks at Lily-Rose again. “June was so very young. You have to understand in those days, they would have taken you from her and adopted you out. I … hadn’t been able to have my own children; it felt right that we did everything to keep you with June, even if that meant pretending that I was your mother.”

  Lily-Rose takes Mum’s hand with both of hers and holds it tightly. As a mother herself, she is more than capable of understanding their motivation. “And you hid the truth all this time?”

  “Yes,” Mum says, merely a whisper. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought I was protecting you.”

  “That’s why you held back?”

  Guilt twists Mum’s features. “For June. It was difficult for her. She sacrificed so much.”

  Tears prick the back of Lily-Rose’s eyes. These two women were so selfless—all for her. All so she could grow up with her true family. And here she was believing that she was never good enough in her mother’s eyes, never pretty enough, never capable enough, when all along, it was the exact opposite. “My entire life, I felt like something was missing, you know?”

  Mum nods.

  “I thought it was because we lost Dad, but I think I felt it even before he died. Since I was a little girl. It’s like I’ve always sensed something wasn’t right.”

  Mum swallows, runs her tongue over her dry, cracked lips. “I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for not showing you how much I love you.” She stops and takes a deep breath. “Because I do. I always have. Probably more than you’ll ever know. To me, you were my entire world. You still are.”

  Tears fall down Lily-Rose’s face. Those sweet words are all she has ever wanted to hear. Her entire life she has wanted to know that she was loveable by the one person that means the most to her—her mother.

  “I love you too. And I know you’re not my biological mother, but to me, you always will be. You raised me. You and Dad. And that’s not going to change, okay? I can’t let it.”

  “I don’t want it to change.”

  She sinks against Mum and hugs her tightly. Tears fall in great waves. Tears of joy. Joy that the truth has been set free. Joy at the recognition of how much they mean to one another. Joy to know that no matter what, the bond of a lifetime will never be shattered.

  After a long moment, Lily-Rose leans back. “You did the right thing, Mum. And I’m grateful. I wouldn’t want it any other way. But I’m also glad that I finally know the real story. Things that didn’t make sense now do.”

  A soft exhale sighs from between Mum’s lips as though a life of shame and regret has found an exit. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  A deep shuddering breath in and out. “I love you, and I’m so proud of you. And I will never hesitate to show you that from here on out.”

  Lily-Rose manages a watery smile. “Thank you. I love you too.”

  Footsteps sound from the hall. Lily-Rose turns to face the entry and when she finds Aunt June standing in the doorway, it’s as though she is seeing her for the first time. This woman is her biological mother.

  Aunt June baulks, clears her throat. “Um … hi. Is everything okay here?”

  Lily-Rose stands, wiping her palms on her jeans. “It’s fine, but maybe you and I need to have a talk.”

  “Of course. How about we go outside for some fresh air?”

  Lily-Rose glances back at Mum.

  Mum gestures with her hand that they go. She plants a kiss on Mum’s head, then follows Aunt June out and along the hall.

  They don’t speak, not one word until they are outside, seated on a long bench that overlooks the health centre’s green garden. Bees and dragonflies buzz around the tall flowers. The sun is dimmed by a thick layer of burnished clouds.

  Aunt June sits with her hands in her lap, wringing them together. “So Grace told you the truth?”

  Lily-Rose nods.

  “I apologise. Deeply. You should have heard the truth from me.”

  “Would you have ever told me?” Lily-Rose asks, a brow arched in question.

  June shakes her head. “I always thought it best you didn’t know. I thought it would be too painful after all this time. And that it would complicate matters.”

  Lily-Rose shrugs. “I think the opposite might be true.”

  June’s eyes widen a fraction. “You do?”

  “It’s been hard to learn that you and Mum have lied to me all my life.” Aunt June flinches on the word lie, but Lily-Rose continues. “It’s been hard to find out that the woman I thought was my mum is actually my aunt and that my real mother is…” she st
ops and really looks at Aunt June. “That you’re my mother.”

  To see her aunt in such a different light now sends a ripple of confusion straight down her centre. It reminds her of when she had to bear down during labour with Pia—that full body contraction that starts in the throat and ends in her toes.

  Aunt June’s chest is rising and falling. Her eyes close. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to hear those words? So damn long, I thought I would go mad with waiting.”

  What can Lily-Rose say to that? Nothing. It’s not her place. Not her untruth. It’s Aunt June’s.

  “All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I’m so sorry if this decision made all those years ago has given you any pain.”

  Lily-Rose shakes her head. “Some pain, of course. But mostly questions that have gone too long unanswered. Until now. But I’m sorry too because…” She hesitates—the next admission could be crushing for Aunt June. She softens her voice. “I don’t think I can ever see you as my mother. It’s been too long.”

  Two quick blinks. A beat in her jaw. “I understand. And I’ve never expected it to be any other way. I knew right back then as a scared fifteen-year-old girl what I was sacrificing. But it’s a sacrifice I had to make. You were worth that. The only other option was one I couldn’t face, nor make. I could never have given you up completely. I wouldn’t have survived that.”

  That punch of reality is like a powerful fist slamming into Lily-Rose’s heart. She can’t believe Aunt June did this for her. “Mum mentioned that you sacrificed a lot for me. I don’t want you to do that anymore. I can take care of myself now.”

  “I didn’t want to lose you.” Then her voice is a whisper as she says, “I still don’t.”

  Lily-Rose shakes her head. “You won’t ever lose me. I’m not going anywhere. But you also have to live your own life.”

  Aunt June’s chuckle is sardonic. “I’m afraid I’m a bit too set in my ways for anything different.”

  Lily-Rose bumps her shoulder against Aunt June’s playfully. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I think a very sexy man called Damien might think you have a whole lot of living and loving left in you.”