Chapter Eight #3
She glanced back down the road, where their vehicles were still parked in the lane. “But why are you even here?”
“After you left I found your cell phone on the kitchen counter. I figured you’d need it sooner rather than later.” He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her.
Maureen shivered as a breeze danced across the river and over her bare arms.
Jake noticed. “Let me walk you inside.” He got out of his chair then held a hand out to her. “I bet you could use a cup of coffee. Or something stronger.”
His offer was tempting. She still felt so raw, and Jake had suddenly become her protector. She didn’t want him to leave.
But given the way Holly had reacted to seeing his hand on her shoulder, it was best that he did.
She took one of his hands and pressed it between hers. “Thanks so much, Jake. For listening and being here. I’m good now, I promise.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
He took a step away from her, gently let go of her hand. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Was that relief in his voice? As they headed to their respective vehicles Maureen suddenly wished she’d asked him to stay. And as he drove away she felt alone in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
*
Dinner was long over when Maureen entered the B and B. No one was in the kitchen except Poppy, who sat sipping tea and staring out the window. For once, she didn’t suggest food or drink. In fact other than a sympathetic smile, she gave no reaction to Maureen’s presence at all.
Maureen sat in the chair opposite her and folded her hands on the table. She knew she looked terrible, that Poppy could tell at a glance she’d been crying, but Poppy remained quiet.
After several long minutes, Maureen finally asked, “Did Holly come down for dinner?”
“No, but I took her up a plate. We talked a little. She’ll be okay. Maybe not real soon, but eventually.”
“I hope so.”
“She’s very much like her mother. Strong, confident, resilient when facing adversity.”
Wearily, Maureen covered half her face with one hand. “You think? I don’t feel so resilient right now.”
“Sometimes you have to touch bottom before you can push your way to the surface again.”
The comment struck Maureen as wise. She glanced at Poppy, wondering if perhaps she’d been too judgmental about the older woman’s presence in their lives.
After all, it wasn’t Poppy’s fault her son had been such a loser.
She of all people knew how little control a mother could have over her child’s behavior at times.
“Maureen, I can imagine it’s strange to have a grandmother foisted on you at this stage of your life.
But though we haven’t known each other long, I love you and your sisters with all my heart.
My deepest wish is to be here for you when you need me.
You’re the eldest, but even you need someone to lean on now and then. ”
Again, Poppy was bang-on with her comments. It was difficult being the strong one, the eldest. Maureen laid her hand flat on the table. Tentatively, Poppy placed her hand on top. Her fingers were a little misshapen with age and arthritis, but they were still strong.
“My husband didn’t love me anymore,” Maureen found herself saying. “He wanted a divorce. If he hadn’t died on Mount Aconcagua, that’s what would’ve happened.”
Now two people shared her secret. She was falling apart; that was what she was doing.
“Ah, Maureen. You keep too much inside. From what I hear from your sisters, your mother was like that. You’re the most like her, aren’t you? I can see it in the old photographs. In the eyes and the mouth. So much strength and independence, and stubbornness, too.”
“My sisters would agree to the stubbornness, that’s for sure.” She put her hands to her temples, wishing she could stop the sorrows that kept bouncing relentlessly in her brain.
“What are you hiding from now?” Poppy asked softly.
Maureen’s first impulse was to deny that she was hiding from anything. But deeper, more honest thought, told her she was. Her relationship with Holly, for one. And the newly forming relationship with Jake.
“I don’t want to make the same mistakes as before. Sometimes it seems that my fear paralyzes me. I want to explore what I feel for Jake. But I’m so afraid it’ll turn sour. Just as it did for Rod and me.”
“But why compare the two men?”
Maureen paused. Superficially Jake’s love of extreme sports and his pleasure-oriented lifestyle reminded her of Rod. But Jake was running a successful business. And he also had a maturity and empathy she’d never seen in Rod. The compassion he’d shown her today confirmed it.
“Maybe it’s not Jake I’m worried about, but me.”
“You should have more faith in yourself. And your instincts. Not just where Jake is concerned, but with Holly, too. Trust your heart.”
For the first time, Maureen glimpsed a family resemblance in Poppy’s aging features. Behind the lines of character and kindness were the delicate bones of her own face.
“Think I might have a little of my grandma in me, too?”
Poppy’s round eyes filmed with moisture. “Maybe just a dash.”
Impulsively, Maureen leaned forward and gave her a hug. “I hope so.”
Poppy squeezed her in return, then pulled away to examine her face. “I’m glad to see some color back in your cheeks. Now that you’re feeling better, maybe you can eat. Leftovers are in the fridge.”
“I’ll warm something up,” Maureen promised. Once Poppy had retired to her room, Maureen laid her head on the kitchen table, too tired at the moment even to crawl upstairs to bed, let alone feed herself.
She found herself remembering Rod’s funeral. How that night, after everyone had left and her sisters were sleeping—one in the extra bed in Holly’s room, the other in the spare bedroom—she’d felt so alone. She’d held Rod’s picture in her hand and fought an urge to smash it against the wall.
She didn’t have that anger anymore. What she mainly felt was regret. Somehow she and Rod had brought out the worst in each other. And the person who had suffered the most was Holly.