Abby surveyed all of Emmy’s things. “I left mine behind,” she whispered more to herself than to Emmy, and then she brightened. “But it’s okay, really. I just want to be here forever, and I don’t care about my toys.”
“There’s lots of room in the closet, and we can play hide and seek, and we can go down the street to the park, and we can go to the lake, and we...”
“We can plant a garden and everything,” Abby said.
“We go to Saint Joe’s. It’s nice, and the nuns aren’t half as bad here, and our church is right there by the nuns’ house.” Emmy grabbed Abby’s hand. “Let’s go. You have to see our secret hiding places.”
“Breakfast,” called Mo. “Come and get it.” Everyone joined her in the kitchen where the large oval table served as a counter and the main gathering place for her family. Mary and Abby ate the eggs and toast and fresh-squeezed orange juice as though they hadn’t eaten in weeks.
As Mary and Mo sipped their coffee, Michael, got up to go.
“Well I’ll see you ladies later.” He leaned over to kiss his wife and then looked at Mary. “We’re both real glad you’re here, Mary. You and Abby are welcome to stay as long as you want, and I mean that.”
“Thanks, Mike. That means a lot.” Mary gave him a tired, but grateful smile. He patted her hand and hugged the girls on the way out the door.
Mo began her plotting. “We’ll go to the State Capitol building. That famous governor who got himself assassinated built it in the thirty’s. And then we’ll go around to see some of the plantations and the Mississippi and the bayous, and we’ll get you some crawfish—boy, do they eat a lot of that down here! I had to learn to cook all over again with all this stuff. Michael fancies himself to be a real sportsman, you know. He’s determined to get himself a boat and join his new buddies at their camp down on Bayou Pigeon. And then we’ll go over to the school and then...”
“Mo.” Mary held her hand up weakly. “Stop for a minute, and let me catch my breath. I think the first thing I need to see is sleep. I haven’t really slept in days, and it’s catching up with me. I want to do all that stuff, too, but first I have to be alive.”
“I’m sorry. Of course you need to rest, what with all you’ve been through. I’ll take care of the girls and call Mum and Papa, and you’ll have a nice, quiet sleep. Don’t even think of getting up until you feel better. There will be plenty of time to explore later. After all, you’re going to be here for a long time, right?”
“Of course, we’re going to stay. Where else would we go? I never even met most of Frank’s family, and I won’t go back to Boston, no matter what. So you’re stuck with us.” Mary took in a deep breath and sighed. She began to clear the table as the girls ran outside.
“Well that’s just fine by me. Now you run along. Mary, don’t pick up the dishes, for heaven’s sake. Go on now, get some rest, and I’ll have some fresh clothes and towels for you when you’re ready.” Mo was almost shoving her toward the bedroom.
Mary opened the door and turned to her sister.
“Thanks, Mo. I don’t know what we’d have done...” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“You’d have been there for me, and you know it. I’m just so glad you’re here and safe. Now, go to bed before we both turn into a couple of silly fools.”
They hugged each other tightly before Mary walked through the opening and closed the door. She kicked off her shoes and caught a glimpse of the giant oak that shaded her window with its majestic arms. She smiled. She stripped off her wrinkled dress and slid under the covers. Between the soft, fresh layers of sun-dried cotton sheets, Abby’s mother slept.
CHAPTER 6
Cardinals and crows mixed their voices with their feathered friends in harmony outside of Mary’s bedroom window.
The light was painful at first. Every single muscle ached, and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Mary slowly rolled over, sat up and stood to walk to the white, painted mirror above the little dressing table. She stared at herself, brushing her tangled hair away with the back of her hand. A smile began to form at the corner of her mouth. Baton Rouge is a good place to start life over again, she thought. Jack can rot in hell. Mary heard giggles beyond her room, and the front door slammed.
Her long, copper hair fought the brush, but she rolled it into a loose bun and pinned it to the back of her head. Lifting her arms to do this simple task hurt; she’d been stiff too long. She rummaged through the suitcase and removed a toothbrush, slipped on a crumpled robe, and opened the door. There stood Maureen, beginning to clean up the breakfast dishes, just as she had before Mary’s long nap.
“Well, good morning sleeping beauty! How do you feel?” asked Mo when she looked up.
“Good morning!” Mary waved as she rushed past her sister to the bathroom. When she returned, she sat down at the table across from Mo.
“I think I’m losing my mind, and I feel so sore. But otherwise, I feel pretty good. How long was I asleep?”
“Just short of a day. I wanted to wake you for supper last night, but Michael wouldn’t let me. He said you’d wake up when you’d had enough sleep. Guess he was right, huh?”
“I guess so.” Mary looked down at the table and slumped her shoulders. “Mo, I feel like such a fool. I’m so grateful to you and Mike, I just don’t...”
“We’re family Mary. Stop fretting now and relax. You’re home and safe, and that’s all that counts. We’re all thrilled to have you and Abby here, so stop it now.”
Mary looked up at her sister, her face washed in gratitude.
Mo handed Mary a glass. “Now, here you go, fresh squeezed this morning. I let Emmy stay home from school today, and they helped me wring the bejesus out of the oranges. Then we went out for a walk to show Abby her new school and City Park. Everything is so close. I really like that. Anyway, we tried to keep it quiet so you could sleep as long as you needed to, but Abby will be glad to know you’re up.”
Mo moved to the window and raised her voice just enough to be heard outside. “Abby, darlin’, Mama’s awake. Come on in the kitchen.”
Abby rushed in, looked at her mother and burst into a big smile. “Hi, Mama. Do you feel all better now? I just love Weeziana. I wanna stay here forever. I saw my new school and the park, and we want to go over to the...”
“Abby, take it easy.” Mary stroked her daughter’s hair and raised her chin. “Let Mama get cleaned up, and then we’ll decide what to do next, okay?”
“Oh, all right.” Her enthusiasm was only barely dampened. Abby wrapped her skinny arms around Mary’s neck, kissed her on the cheek, and rushed out again as fast as she’d come.
“Well, Mo, I guess that settles it, you’ll never be rid of us now,” Mary chuckled as she sipped her coffee. “What’s in this stuff, anyway? It’s the strongest coffee I’ve ever had, if you don’t count left-over U.S. Navy mud.”
“Takes getting used to, but that’s how they drink it down here. I just add lots of milk. Michael likes it. He says it’s strong enough to put hair on your chest, but I told him he’d be pretty unhappy if that’s what it did to me!” Mo’s giggle grew to a roar. Mary sprayed a mouthful of coffee across the table. Soon, they were both shedding tears of happy hysteria.
“I may never drink it again,” Mary said, and they laughed once more.
“Well, that’s the first time I’ve seen or heard you laugh in a very long time,” Mo said.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s been too long.” Mary’s expression became thoughtful. “It wasn’t like me, Mo. How could I be so blind?”
Mo stopped putting the dishes away and looked squarely at her sister. “Maybe it just sneaks up on a person like grass growing, you know. First it’s just crabgrass, and then one day you look out, and it’s a jungle that you can’t get the mower through.”
“Maybe so. Maybe so,” Mary said. “But that doesn’t change anything does it?”
Mother Superior talked quietly to Mary while Abby sat in the outer office looking at all the p
ictures of Jesus. She wondered why anybody would want pictures of somebody, even Jesus, bleeding on their walls. It was bad enough that he died, but to hang him all over again just did not seem right. And the fact that he died for her sins was awful. Abby’s thoughts abruptly shifted when the heavy wooden door opened. Mother Superior smiled at her in a curious sort of way, like Abby was an abandoned puppy.
“We’re so glad you’re here, Abigail. Come along now, and I’ll take you to your new class.”
Abby looked up at Mary, her eyes fearful. She held on to her mother’s skirt and with two small steps, slid behind her legs.
Mary bent herself to Abby’s level.
“It’s okay, Abby. I’ll be here for you after school. Mother Superior will help you get started. And later, we’ll get your uniform. It’ll be just like Emmy’s. You’re going to be all right, I promise.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and nudged her toward the nun.
“Go along now, sweetheart,” Mary said.
The nun’s hand felt hot and big, but Abby took it and walked down the long, silent hall, looking back now and then to see her mother waving.
Most days after school, Mary and Abby walked to University Lake, counting the streets and looking at the houses they saw along the way. Abby loved watching the fog roll in over the lake. Slowly, it obliterated the land and the tall oaks across the water as if a soft sheet of cotton fluff had fallen from the sky. The ducks didn’t seem to mind as they paddled about in the haze. Heavy, thick tree branches at the water’s edge were deeply bent, just barely touching the surface as they reached for a drink of steamy water.
“Mama, I really like it,” Abby said as a big grin spread across her face.
“School or the lake?” Mary asked her.
“All, I think. I mean, I like school except the uniforms are so boring, and I like the lake, and I like it at Emmy’s house.”
Mary’s chin trembled. She wrapped her arms around Abby and picked her up off the ground.
“I like it, too, honey. It makes Mama so happy to see you smile again. Are you ready to go home now?” Mary asked her little girl.
“After the last duck goes, okay?” Abby pleaded.
“Okay.”
“It’s over Mary. Let it go,” Mo said.
The two women sat wrapped in blankets on the front porch, as they had the night before and the night before that. They watched tiny points of light pop out one by one in the winter sky.
“Don’t you understand, Mo? I feel so guilty. All I want to do is hold on to Abby all the time and protect her from the world. How could I have been so horribly stupid? What kind of a mother am I?”
“A trusting one, that’s what. I mean, who would think that anyone would hurt a little girl on purpose?”
“I just can’t think about it anymore. It makes me crazy to imagine what he must have...”
“No more, Mary. That disgusting excuse for a man will never bother you and Abby again. You’ve just got to put it behind you,” Mo said. “But I’ll always be looking over my shoulder until the day I die, or he does. God! I wish I’d never met him.”
Mo looked stricken.
“Oh, Mo it isn’t your fault,” Mary assured her sister with a pat. “You couldn’t have known. The day I married him I knew it was a mistake, but I didn’t have the nerve to run—until it was almost too late.” Mary hesitated and began again. “Mo, I was thinking. I want an annulment. I want it wiped out as if it never happened.”
“You do?” Mo asked. “Well, of course you do. He wasn’t a husband; he was an animal. Maybe Michael knows a good lawyer.”
“That’d be great,” Mary said. “And then we can figure out what I’m going to do to support Abby and me.”
“Why? We’re doing all right aren’t we? Mike said he could handle it, and he’s thrilled you’re here, especially with him being out of town so much. You and Abby eat like birds, so I really don’t see a need for you to work right away.”
“Mo, listen to me. I’ve been a nurse for the last ten years. It’s what I do. I love it, and it keeps me busy. And I just can’t let you pay for everything. After Christmas, I’ll have to find some work. By that time, Abby should be well settled into school.”
“Okay, but I still think you’re rushing it, and I still want you to live here. It’s been hard making new friends. We’re still Yankees you know. You will at least stay with us won’t you?”
“Of course we will. I can’t afford to move, and I wouldn’t want to. I love being a family again.” Mary smiled and got up from her chair. “Let’s get some sleep, Mo. The girls will be up early.”
All Abby and Emmy could talk about for days was how they were going to see Santa as he paraded down North Street in the warm sunshine. But there had been concern.
“Mama, will Santa find me here?” Abby asked. “There’s no snow for his sled, and what if he can’t find me?”
“Of course, he will,” Mary assured her. “Santa knows where all the good little girls are. And lots of people live where there isn’t any snow. Santa goes everywhere.”
“But, what if I’m not good, Mama? And Jesus died because of me, they said so.”
“Oh, Abby.” Mary pulled her to her lap. “You are the best little girl any mother could ask for. You are very good. You were never bad; you must believe that. And Jesus died a long time ago. He didn’t die because of you. He died because he believed in goodness, and there were a lot of nasty people who didn’t like what he had to say, so they hurt him and tried to get everybody to forget about him. But when he died, more people listened, and that’s why we celebrate his birthday. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Sort of. But will Santa think I’m good, and will I get any presents?”
“Yes, Abby. Santa knows you are good, and he will bring you presents. And of course, the best present of all is Gramma and Papa Cory coming on Christmas Eve.”
“How many days? I can’t wait. How many days until they come? Tell me, please, Mama, tell me.”
“Just eleven more days. Very soon,” Mary smiled at the thought. A week before Christmas, Michael found a perfectly shaped Scotch pine. It stood nearly as tall as he. The girls helped make popcorn, and what didn’t end up in their stomachs became garland. Abby and Emmy made ornaments out of foil and paper. Mo pulled out her box of decorations, among them a rocking horse, glass icicles, red and green balls, and strings of lights. When they were finished, the girls jumped up and down with self-satisfied glee.
“It’s perfect. The best one ever!” Emmy shouted. Everyone let out an ahhhh when Michael plugged it in.
Christmas Eve was overflowing with things for which to be thankful. Michael retrieved Patrick and Meaghan from the train station early in the morning. After a tearful reunion at home and some time to recover from the trip, Gramma, Papa Cory, and the rest of the family set out for their traditional midnight mass.
There were Latin words that the girls still didn’t understand, but they loved the singing, and they loved the candles and getting to stay up late. By the time it was over, their little eyes were drooping shut, and they did not argue at all about going to bed. Gramma was there to tuck in her “l’il angels,” and all was right with the world.
The next morning, the girls didn’t seem to notice that they’d had only a few hours of sleep. They had awakened everyone by six with their excitement. They were running on “Santa power,” Gramma said. Unwrapped and under the tree for Abby sat a beautiful fair-haired doll with pink cheeks and bright blue glassy eyes.
“Mama, she looks just like me! Santa found me like you said he would.” The doll had a soft little bed with a handmade quilt and her very own special pillow. Mary winked at Meaghan.
“How ‘bout that, me darlin’s? Santa always seems to know what’s in a child’s heart, eh?” Patrick smiled through the mist in his eyes. “Ah, this is how it’s supposed to be,” he sighed.
Patrick waited for his granddaughters to discover and enjoy their gifts. When all the packages were open,
wrapping and ribbon filled the room.
“Now I have somethin’ to say, so listen to Papa.” Everyone got very quiet, even the gigglers.
“This is a special time for us. The good Lord has blessed us with our health, a loving family and this time together. So let’s join hands and sing our favorite song.” He looked at his wife. “Meaghan, me love, I think it’d be fittin’ if you’d start us off with that magical sweet voice of yours.”
Meaghan beamed at him and began. With a smile in her crystal clear soprano voice, she began, Silent Night.
The next two weeks went by too fast. It was nearly time for Patrick and Meaghan to climb back on the train for the long ride to Boston.
They had ridden on the ferry boat and visited LSU, New Orleans, taken rides in the country and visited Hammond, ‘the strawberry capital of the world’, and they drove by the plantations and the oil refineries.
Wrapped in coats and blankets, they rented a boat and traveled down Bayou Sorrell past the camps and the shrimp boats docked for the season. They saw the fishermen, trappers and hunters wandering through the woods adjacent to the cypress-laden waters.
No one wanted it to end.
“Sure am going to miss New Or-lee-ans, but me granddaughters most of all,” Patrick said as he chucked Emmy’s chin.
“It’s Nawlins,” Emmy reminded her grandfather. “C’mon, Papa Cory, you can say it right now. I know you can.”
Patrick and Michael talked about the opportunities in Louisiana. By the time they said their last goodbyes, Patrick was convinced he could make a living with his hands. Shipwrights were in great demand for the riverboats, and Patrick’s talent with finishing work would stand the test.
“Lord knows, there’s enough to keep a hundred men busy with the river boats alone,” Michael told him as they wandered through the backyard. Patrick asked his son-in-law to check into the Mississippi River and Freight Co. and the tourist stern wheeler.
Cross of Ivy Page 4
