41. Through Good And Bad #2
A rush of emotion hit me like a tidal wave. Breathing through it, I stood next to Maggie so her mom didn’t have to strain her neck to see me. “Mrs. Roth, always a pleasure.”
I gave her a nod out of respect and fiddled with the brim of my cap to keep my hands busy.
Her mom’s smile widened. “You’re so polite.” Her words came slowly, as if each was a labor. “I’m so lucky my Maggie has you. She’ll need you even more when I’m gone.”
“Don’t talk like that, Mom,” Maggie said, her voice wavering. “You still have time left. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
“No, that’s you,” her mom replied.
She spoke slowly, but her mind seemed to have cleared.
Maggie shook her head, her chest shaking as she tried to hold back her tears.
“You’re strong to know your mind and live by what you believe,” her mom continued. “Even when it doesn’t match what your father believes. That’s what I wanted for you. To know what you want out of life and go for it.”
Tears welled in Maggie’s eyes as she leaned forward, pressing her mom’s frail hand to her cheek. “You always told me to behave, though.”
“I did and I’m sorry. But despite what I taught you, you’ve done what I never could,” she said with a weak smile.
“You lived by your own code and found your own way in the world. I love your father so much, but I regret never going out and seeing the world for myself. I obeyed what my daddy told me, married the man he chose for me, and never for a moment considered doing anything else. But Maggie, I’m so proud of you for living your own life.
You’ve carved out a place for yourself in the world. ”
Maggie swiped at her eyes. “I thought I was mostly a disappointment.”
A secret smile took over her mom’s features. “Never.” She paused. “In some ways, I think your father is proud of you, too. He’s just too stubborn to admit it. He’s set in his ways, but he loves you. Promise me you’ll keep in touch with him after I’m gone. He’ll be so lonely without me.”
Maggie’s tears turned into soft sobs as she nodded and curled up with her mom in bed.
“Where did you two go yesterday?” Maggie asked softly.
Her mom patted her hair. “He took me to my favorite arboretum for the last time. I insisted. And your father would never deny me. Not when that was the last outing we’ll ever take.”
Not wanting to intrude, I took a step back to let them have their time. They needed this, to be together and share their truths and forgiveness. Moving back into the house, I knew I’d have to face her daddy.
Mr. Roth stood in the kitchen looking lost. With his earlier statement, I needed to have a talk with him. Not that I wanted to, mind you, but I knew I should.
With measured steps, I entered the kitchen. “Could I make you a cup of coffee, sir?”
His red, puffy eyes shot up to mine, instantly flaring with anger. “What are you doing with my daughter?”
“I understand you’re upset, sir, and I have no desire to make it worse. I’m simply being Maggie’s friend and being with her however she chooses.”
“Do you know what people are saying about you two?” he asked, crossing his arms.
I sighed. “Reckon it ain’t good from that look on your face.”
“Are you spending time with her alone in her room at the inn?”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “Yes, sir, I have.”
“But you two aren’t married,” he hissed. “Don’t you know what that makes you?”
I tilted my head a little. “I suppose the word you’d assign us is ‘sinners,’ but I don’t agree with that.”
“Heathens!” He threw his hand in frustration.
“How can you bed my daughter knowing it’s temporary.
Without making a commitment. And to take advantage of her when she’s only here a short time to watch her mother die and then she’ll be leaving again?
How can you destroy her soul for your own pleasure? ”
I shook my head. “I’m comforting her while she’s here and, while it seems strange to you, I don’t expect her to change her life for me. She’s made her own life in Chicago, and it wouldn’t be right for me to ask her to throw all of that away.”
“You sullied her,” he insisted.
I glanced around. “Last time I looked, we were in the twenty-first century. Women can choose to do what they want with whomever they want. Judgment comes another day, don’t it?”
Mr. Roth let out a defeated sigh. “She’s hurting herself and that’s what matters to me. She’s turned away from her faith, moved away, and now she’s acting like someone I don’t even want to know. All because of you.”
Anger flared up in my chest, but then it hit me. He needed someone to blame. He loved God too fiercely to blame Him for his wife’s cancer or his daughter’s need to be free to explore the world and her sexuality. He was hurting and lashing out in his pain.
“If you need to blame me, then you’re welcome to, sir.
I can carry that weight, but we both know there is nothing and no one who could change your daughter’s beautiful spirit.
She is still the same amazing woman no matter her choices.
So, if you really need to lay blame at my feet, you go ahead.
But don’t let your hurt and blame get between you and a relationship with Maggie.
The two of you need each other more than ever. ”
“Father?” Maggie called, her voice laced with hysteria.
Mr. Roth raced into the sunroom as the hospice nurse took Mrs. Roth’s pulse.
I watched from the hallway, trying not to intrude on the moment, but close enough for Maggie to see that I was still there for her.
Then, with father and daughter each holding her hand, Mrs. Roth passed peacefully.
When the nurse insisted, Maggie placed her mom’s hand carefully on the bed, placed a kiss to her forehead, then came over to me, sobbing into my chest. I scooped her up, carrying her to the sofa in the living room to give her daddy some privacy.
Letting my T-shirt catch her tears, I held her close and let her get it out.
All the regrets. All the sadness. It poured from her, and I absorbed it. It was the least I could do for her.
To some extent, it made me remember when my mom died.
I was pretty young and didn’t remember every detail of it, but I felt that hollow, empty feeling you get when someone you care about is gone.
Felt it ten times worse when Maggie left after graduation.
Didn’t seem right that I cared more about Maggie leaving than my own mom dying, but my family wasn’t close.
We didn’t talk about loving each other. We didn’t hug or show affection.
We didn’t talk about how we felt about anything.
We just did our work, ate our food, and went to bed to be rested enough to do it all over again the next day.
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have a mother who showed affection.
Would I know how to talk about things if I did?
Would I have a different emotional skill set if I’d been raised with someone who taught me about love?
The more I journaled, the more I hoped I could still learn those words and finally have that talk with Maggie someday.