Secrets of a (Somewhat) Sunny Girl

by Karen Booth

A tut left her lips and she rolled her eyes like a bratty teenager. “Whatever Katherine had to say about me is undoubtedly highly unflattering. But I appreciate you wanting me to think otherwise.” Her sights immediately returned to me, which was its own particular kind of surprising. Nobody ever stopped looking at Eamon to look at me. “Katherine. I am just…" She shook her head, still staring, and I realized what she was about to say. "You look exactly like her. Exactly.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. If there was an invisible tether between the women in my family, it was pulling on me hard right now. All the years gone, all the regret and resentment, and I still wanted her to love me. I needed it like air and water and my whole life I’d felt as though I didn’t deserve it. “Funny, isn't it?” I laughed quietly, desperate for something to lift me out of that place where I felt unworthy of being my mother’s daughter, of looking like her.

  “I had no idea. I think the last photograph I saw of you was from your high school graduation. Lucy showed it to me. And it was taken from a distance. I could see the resemblance then, but not like I see it right now.”

  I knew exactly what she was saying because I lived with it every day. The resemblance was uncanny and it had grown stronger with every birthday, as I crept closer to the age my mother had been when she’d died. I’d learned not to think about it too much. Amy knew not to talk about it. Dad didn't even mention it anymore. “Can I sit with you?”

  Beverly lunged to move the stack of magazines sitting on the cushion next to my grandmother—all of them true crime. “I’ll leave you three alone,” she said.

  I took my spot on the couch and Eamon stood near me, hands behind his back. “So, Amy's getting married,” I said. “To a really nice guy. His name is Luke Mayhew. Comes from a nice family. A big family. They're very much in love.”

  “You told me. Over the phone.”

  “Right. I did.” I silently begged Eamon for some encouragement or ideas of what to say next, but all he did was momentarily distract me with how dang nice he was to look at. Not helpful. “And as I also said on the phone, Amy would really like to wear something of our mother's on her wedding day. Which makes sense, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “That's why I'm here today. The wedding is on Saturday. And I know you said no before, but I was hoping I could convince you to change your mind.”

  “So your sister sent you to do her bidding?”

  “Actually, no. She has no idea that I'm here. I woke up this morning and thought I should try one more time. Eamon and I just went to the train station and came up.”

  “You make it sound so easy. Almost like you could come and visit regularly.” She casually smoothed her pant leg with her hand. The guilt was never laid on directly in my family. It was always merely implied.

  “If you had given me any indication at all over the phone that you wanted me to visit, I would've come earlier. You weren't exactly kind to me.” I wanted the necklace, but I wasn't going to sugarcoat her behavior. She'd lashed out at me and I still didn't feel as though it had been deserved.

  Grandma cleared her throat. “You caught me off guard, that's all. Just like today. If you'd given me some warning, I could've had coffee waiting for you.”

  It took serious willpower not to point out exactly how full of shit she was. “I don't need coffee. I don't even need you to be nice to me, Grandma. I know how you feel about me.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked down at her lap again, this time picking at a spot on her pants with her nails. “You're still mad about that day in the hospital.”

  “Honestly? I don't have the strength to be mad about it any more. It just makes me sad to think about it. I needed you that day, and you turned your back on me.”

  She raised her head and looked me straight in the eye. “What do you say to a ten year old girl who's just lost her mother? Especially when you're blinded with grief and guilt.”

  I was stuck on what she'd said. The grief I got. But the guilt? Wasn't that all mine? “Why would you ever feel guilty?”

  “I think I know why your mother did what she did. And it wasn't because she'd fallen in love with the wrong guy.”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “If she learned that behavior, she learned it from me.”

  Now I was even more confused. “Learned what?”

  “I did the same thing to her and Lucy. Let them spend time with a man who wasn’t your grandfather. A man I was involved with.”

  If ever there had been a moment where I had absolutely no idea what to say, this was it.

  “I'm not proud of it,” she continued. “But I did.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “The situations were different though.” She sounded as if she was forming her defense. “It wasn't the same. I wanted to get caught. Your mother did not. Your mother was torn between two men.”

  “I don't even know what that means. You wanted to get caught?”

  Her eyes were pleading, as if she wanted mercy from me. “I was barely eighteen when I married your grandfather. My parents were so ready to be rid of me. They said I had too many ideas in my head. Things were different then. Your grandfather got to pursue his interests. But I was expected to stay home and have kids. He put everything he had into his work. I felt ignored.” She shook her head and blew out a deep breath. “So I strayed. But I only let your mother and Lucy meet the man because I was hoping they'd tell your grandfather. Of course, they never did. And I couldn't stomach the thought of what I was doing, so I called it off. Still, I let it go on for nearly two years. Long enough to make a real impression on those girls."

  I glanced over at Eamon who seemed equally flabbergasted. “I had no idea, Grandma.”

  “Of course you didn't. But that day at the hospital, all I could think about was that you'd actually had the nerve to go through with it. And look at what had happened. I'd lost my own daughter because of it. My granddaughters had lost their mother. I couldn't stand the thought of the example I'd set.”

  “Nobody could've known what was going to happen that day. Nobody. It was a freak accident.” The words had erupted from my mouth, and just like that, I realized that I now truly believed what everyone had been saying to me for twenty years. It was an accident. A patch of ice in the wrong place. A scream at the wrong time.

  She was crying now and although I didn't want to, I felt a duty to watch her process this. “Do you forgive me, Katherine? For that day at the hospital? I was out of my mind. Truly. And I couldn't see it. That's half of the reason your aunt Lucy didn't want me living with her. I couldn’t let it go and she couldn’t take the endless talk of her dead sister. It's really only been because of the endless hours I spend by myself in this place that I've been able to think some of it out.”

  A person could get help from the unlikeliest of sources. “Of course I forgive you.” I said it as if it was of little consequence, but it was a big deal to me. I'd carried around the hurt from that day for a long time, but I was so tired of the weight of it. I wanted to send it back to the year it had happened and never see it again.

  “Grandma, what did you think of Gordon?”

  She shrugged. “She dated him in high school. I thought he was a loser then, but she apparently couldn't stay away from him. I never saw the appeal, but there's no accounting for taste. Sometimes you meet somebody and they're just the right person for you. It doesn't have to be any more complicated than that.”

  I nodded, reminding myself that so much of this was so, incredibly simple. A chain of tiny events that when strung together, made for a tragedy. But that day could just be part of our lives. It didn't have to be everything.

  “You really like this guy Amy is marrying?”

  “I do. And believe me, I didn't want to. I have to say that I always felt like our family was cursed when it came to marriage. Amy and I had a pretty good run at being single, just the two of us. It seemed stupid to tempt fate.”

  Eamon cleared his th
roat and when I turned back, he unleashed that pointed “you're so full of it” look. He was right. I was full of it. But I had a lot of it to get past. I was doing my best.

  “Perfectly understandable,” Grandma said.

  “Luke is very sweet to Amy, and kind. He loves her very much. I can see it on his face when he looks at her or talks about her.”

  “Like the way this one looks at you?” She turned to Eamon. “How do you say your name again?”

  “Aim-un.”

  She nodded, but didn’t try to repeat it. “Katherine's grandfather used to look at me like that.”

  And Eamon looked at me like that. I hoped he knew I was looking at him the same way.

  “We had our problems,” she continued. “But it was only because I couldn't separate my need to love him and my need to be myself. That was always the battle. I think your mother was fighting that same thing. It takes a strong person to love someone and stay true to yourself. I hope your sister can do that.”

  That was one of the most insightful, normal things I'd ever heard from a member of my family. “I think Amy will do great.”

  “I suppose it's time to talk about the necklace, isn't it?”

  A flicker of excitement appeared in my chest. I didn’t want to embrace any truly optimistic thoughts, but at least I hadn’t had to bring it up. “If you don't mind. It would make Amy so happy. It would make me so happy.”

  “I’ll only get it for you if you promise to come back and see me again.”

  “Really? You want me to visit?”

  “Of course. You're my granddaughter.”

  I wanted to smile and say that yes, of course, I'd love to come and visit, but there were things between us still unsaid. “I spent the last two decades feeling like I wasn't your granddaughter. I need you to know that. I understand why you said those things to me that day, and I forgive you, but they hurt me, deeply.” If I could never make peace with my mother, I could at least make peace with hers. “I needed your love all those years. Amy and I both needed you. It would have made our lives completely different to have had you in it.”

  The hurt was plain in her eyes, and I felt bad for it. I truly did. But it also felt a hell of a lot better to stop taking all of the blame for every dysfunctional thing. Everyone needed to accept their share. “I made a lot of mistakes, Katherine. I'm hoping God can forgive me for some of them. Some day.” She reached out and took both of my hands. Her knuckles were large and bulging, her skin crepe-y and thin. Still, it was smooth and soft. They were a grandmother's hands. I'd never felt so thankful to hold them. “I loved you and your sister all those years. I really did. It was in my heart. Probably buried under everything else that kept it closed off. I'm sorry that you ever had to live a day not knowing that I loved you.”

  “And I'm sorry I didn't reach out to you sooner. I shouldn't have let the years wear on forever.”

  She patted my hand and let me go. “Your mother's jewelry is in a shoebox up on the shelf in the closet. Maybe your fella can get it down for me.”

  “I see I'm not needed for anything but my brute strength, but I'm okay with that.” Eamon flashed his lady-killer smile and stepped into the closet, which was already open. “What color is the box?”

  “Red. Or blue. Maybe it's blue.”

  He poked his head out of the doorway. “Which one do you want?”

  “Blue.”

  Eamon retrieved the box and presented it to her.

  She lifted the lid and surprise crossed her face. She quickly replaced the top. “Oops. Wrong one.” She giggled and handed it back to Eamon. “No peeking.”

  Good Lord. There was no telling what was in that box and I certainly didn't want to know. Some secrets really are better kept buried. Eamon was back quickly with the red box.

  She glanced inside. “This is the one.” Unceremoniously, she plopped the whole thing in my lap. It was like she was handing me a bag of groceries. “There you go.”

  I stared down at the box, not comprehending what she was saying. “Do you want me to go through here and find it?”

  She shook her head. “Take the whole thing. If I start getting sentimental about what's in that box, I'll fall apart and that's the last thing I want to do today. I've got a bridge tournament this afternoon and I want to stay sharp.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She placed her hand on the side of my face. “A bitter woman took that jewelry. I don't want to be her anymore.”

  Eamon stepped forward. “If you don't mind me asking, why the change of heart?”

  She gazed up at him and I swear I saw a glimmer of what I felt in my chest every time I looked at him. “I lost my daughter, but a big part of her is still here. I hadn’t fully realized that until she walked into the room. I have to treat that part with love or I'll lose everything I have left.”

  “Thank you so much.” I hugged the box to my chest. “I know it’ll mean a lot to Amy.”

  “I feel sort of bad about RSVP-ing ‘no’ to her wedding, but I don’t like to travel anyway.”

  I was glad she’d brought it up. I still wasn’t sure Amy had actually sent her an invitation. “I’ll be sure to have her call you after the wedding. She can tell you all about it.” I might have to beg Amy, but I’d get her to do it.

  “Or have her come with you when you visit. I’d like to apologize to her in person.”

  The notion of Amy and I ever making a trip together again was almost too hopeful a thought. “I’ll suggest it.”

  With nothing left to say, Eamon and I bid our goodbyes, promising to return in the spring, when the snow was gone. We ran into Beverly in the hall.

  “How'd it go?” she asked.

  I held up the box, victorious. “Somewhere in here is the necklace, presumably. If nothing else, it's a box of my mother's jewelry and there should be something for my sister to wear on her wedding day.”

  “Well done. I'd say your sister is a lucky girl to have you in her life.”

  I laughed, trying to ignore the irony of that statement. “Let's just say I had a few things to make up for.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  On the way back from Connecticut, with the train car rocking from side to side on the track, I dug through the jewelry. The other passengers probably thought I was nuts as I pulled out tangled gold chains and plastic bags of earrings. Grandma Price had not taken particularly good care of my mother's things. In fact, it was almost like she'd stuffed everything in the box the day after my mother died and never looked at it again.

  Unfortunately, most of the pieces in the box meant nothing to me. I couldn't even remember seeing my mother wear half of them. If only I'd been paying better attention. Then again, I hadn't known that I would need to hold on to every second with my mom. I'd had no idea our time together would be so short.

  “Are the pearls in there?” Eamon asked.

  “Pretty sure they’re at the bottom. I haven't looked yet.” The ivory velvet jeweler's box was in sight, waiting for me to open it.

  “Why not?”

  “I don't know. Nervousness. Regret. Worry that they won't be nice anymore and I won't have anything to give to Amy.”

  Eamon placed his hand on my mine. “We came all this way for it. Just look. You'll feel better when you do.”

  “You're right.” I pulled out the box and took a deep breath before opening it, silently making a wish that they would be okay.

  Eamon peered past my shoulder. “Pretty.”

  I didn't have much in the way of words at that moment. I was busy stemming the tide of memories, of the many times I'd seen her wear this necklace—for Christmas Eve dinner, New Year's Eve, her birthday, Valentine's Day, every time she and my dad went out for their anniversary. Judging by all of that, the occasions she'd made an effort to at least look the part of happily married woman, it made me wonder if her heart had ever been in it or if she'd simply been putting on a show.

  None of that mattered now. It would just end up being more merciless conjec
ture on my part, and I'd done enough of that for many lifetimes. I would simply remember the one time I hadn't been there—her wedding day, and the portrait Amy and I had spent hours staring at. Mom wasn't faking a thing in that picture. That much I knew for sure.

  “They're perfect. Absolutely perfect.” I gathered the necklace in my hand, letting the pearls roll over my fingers. They were still beautiful, and for the first time in several weeks, I had a tiny glimmer of hope about my situation with my sister, however ill advised that might be.

  “If this doesn't redeem me, nothing will.”

  The next day was rehearsal day. I was busy packing our things. The necklace, tucked safely in its box, was already in my purse. Everything else was strewn about, but I had a few hours to get it together. Despite Amy's continued refusal to speak to me, she still wanted Eamon and I to stay at Luke's parents' house that night, mostly because she didn't want us to be late for the ceremony, which was at eleven tomorrow morning.

  I consulted the packing list I'd made and cross-referenced it with everything I had set out on the bed. From somewhere under a pile of clothes, my phone rang. I would've let it go to voicemail, but I worried it might be the florist. The flowers were my domain. They had to be perfect. I sifted through the pile and found my phone under my pajamas. When I saw the name on the caller ID, I nearly had a heart attack. Amy.

  “Hello?”

  “Katherine?” She hiccuped, then let out a quiet sob.

  “Oh, my God. What's wrong?” If Luke dumped her, I was going to walk to Brooklyn in my bare feet and strangle his handsome neck.

  “I talked to Bill. It was awful.”

  “Who in the hell is Bill?”

  That just brought out about another wail. “Gordon's brother.”

  “Oh, shit.” I glanced at the clock. It was three hours until we were due at the rehearsal. We were going to have to arrive extra early. “Where are you?”

  “We're at Luke's parents' house. I can't face Cindy like this. She's going to ask me a million questions. She's so nosy, Katherine. You have no idea. It's a nightmare.”