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The next morning, I sat on the front porch swing wrapped in a fleece blanket in an attempt to keep the chilliness at bay. I hadn’t slept well, consumed all night with thoughts of my mother and Max. In my dreams, somehow my mother’s love affair had morphed into my own relationship with Sam, and the result was sad and twisted. I was more than ready to wake up when the first glowing light of the day crept into my dark bedroom.
I sipped my coffee and neatly folded letter number fifty-three, gently placing it inside its envelope. I couldn’t stop until I had answers. I was like a woman possessed now. The letter I’d just finished spoke about the first time Max and Maggie made love, and I found myself wiping away tears while reading the sweet words Max wrote. Physical intimacy was not something he’d taken lightly, and while I only learned Max’s perspective from the letters, I couldn’t help but think it would have been just as special for my mother.
It made me think of my own first time with Sam. We’d been sixteen; although we had been together for two years, we both wanted to wait until we were more mature. The night it happened, we didn’t even plan it. It was just the natural progression of things. Making love to Sam only served to further cement him in my heart. Even after everything that had happened, I had no regrets about our intimacy.
From Mom’s letters, I also learned that her parents had no idea she was involved with Max, and there was a high level of secrecy surrounding their relationship. Mom’s father seemed to be something of a tyrant, and they were both very afraid of getting caught. My stomach clenched nervously with thoughts of how it would all end. I was completely wrapped up in her story, fully invested in learning the outcome. I felt a surge of empathy for my mother, knowing all too well how deeply the knife of a lost first love could cut.
I glanced up from the letters to see Bridget in her front yard. It was Saturday and not yet eight o’clock in the morning, so I gathered that Bridget and June weren’t late sleepers. June seemed pretty structured, and I imagined she ran a rather tight ship. The little girl looked in my direction, and I waved as I caught her eye. She returned the wave, although halfheartedly. Her small shoulders were slumped, and she had a frown on her face, quite a change from the happy little girl she usually was. I kept the blanket wrapped around my shoulders and walked over to the fence.
“Morning, Bridget. How are you?” She ambled in my direction, her head still hanging.
“I’m okay, I guess.” Bridget shrugged, and I could see that she was clearly not okay.
“What’s wrong, sweetie? You don’t seem like your usual happy self this morning. Come on, it’s Saturday! Shouldn’t you be inside watching cartoons and eating Lucky Charms or something?” At least that’s what I had done when I was her age.
“Lucky Charms? Are you kidding? Grandma June wouldn’t let those things within a mile of our house. She says there is too much sugar and fake coloring in them. I should know... I ask for them every time we go to the grocery store.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. I stifled a grin.
“Well, I guess it’s been a long time since I was a little girl. I’m not up on current child-rearing techniques, I suppose. Anyhow, what’s wrong? I know it’s something.” I tried to draw the little girl out of her shell.
“Nothing important. Grandma June has to go to the store and I don’t want to go. It’s supposed to be sunny today, and I want to go to the beach, but she says she has errands to run. Going to the store stinks.” Bridget crossed her arms, driving her point home.
“Well now, that is a problem. I’ve always hated running errands myself. I was just about to go for a walk on the beach. Do you think Grandma June would let you go with me?” I surprised myself with my suggestion.
“With you? Really? That would be cool. I’ll go ask her.” Without a second’s hesitation, Bridget ran inside the house. I stayed at the fence, assuming June would come out to talk with me. I started wondering where the little girl’s parents were.
“Morning, Hope,” June called as she came out the front door and walked over to me. “I apologize if Bridget was pestering you. I’ve told her to give you space, but she’s so taken with you.”
“Don’t worry about that at all. I love Bridget’s company. As a matter of fact, I’ve just offered to have her hang out with me for a while and accompany me for a walk on the beach while you run errands. It’ll give you some time to yourself, and she will have more fun this way. That is, if it’s okay with you, of course.” I smiled at June and awaited her answer.
“Are you sure? That would make her awfully happy....” She trailed off and looked at Bridget and then back at me. I detected a strange expression on her face; it was a mixture of happiness and sadness at the same time. I wondered what it meant.
“Please, Grandma June, please? I don’t wanna go to the dumb old store. Can I stay with Hope?” Bridget clasped her hands together and pleaded.
“I don’t see why not if it’s all right with Hope. I should only be gone a couple of hours.” She nodded as if she’d come to some kind of conclusion in her mind.
“Bridget, you run inside and get a jacket. It’s a cold morning and you’ll freeze by the water.” The instructions fell out of my mouth instinctively, and I giggled thinking how maternal I sounded.
“Hope’s right. Warm clothes, little one. Off you go!” Bridget ran inside and June thanked me profusely for making the little girl’s morning. I told her it would be fun for me, too. I was looking forward to spending some time with the little girl. I was anxious to learn more about her life.
Twenty minutes later, June was on her way to run errands, and Bridget and I were ambling happily through the dune grass toward the beach. I felt the sea spray on my face, and the moisture made my hair damp. The clouds were rolling back and the sunlight was peeking through, glistening like diamonds on the waves. This was such a lovely spot, and I wondered for about the thousandth time since my return how I’d been able to stay away from the ocean for so long.
The water fed my soul, and while my heart was still shattered, I could feel myself slowly beginning to heal. Returning home had been one of the most difficult decisions I’d ever made, and coming face-to-face with so many demons from my past was still a daily struggle. In spite of all of this, I was coming to realize that it was the best thing I could have done for my emotional state. I was getting to know myself and my mom in a way I’d never bothered to before. It was a slow, painful journey, but something told me it might just be worth it in the end.
Bridget walked beside me in silence, taking in the sights and sounds with the obvious appreciation of a native. She didn’t stare with wide-eyed excitement and fascination, but absorbed it all with a kind of peaceful appreciation and certainty that this was her place in the world. This little girl was definitely an old soul. Perhaps that was the connection I felt with her. My sad upbringing and anxiety had made my childhood tough, and I never really fit in with my peers. I had a feeling that Bridget was dealing with a sadness of her own, although I didn’t know exactly what it was.
“So, tell me, Bridget, do you live all alone in the house with your Grandma?” I wanted to know more about her, but didn’t want to be too nosy either.
“Nah, Grandma June doesn’t live with us. She just takes care of me sometimes, you know, like some kids go to day care while their parents work?” We arrived at the shoreline and Bridget and I sat down in the sand. We didn’t even bother laying down a blanket. I kicked off my shoes and buried my feet in the sand, and she did the same.
I was more than a little bit surprised to learn that June didn’t live next door. She seemed to always be there. “What about your parents? What do they do?” I was even more curious now. I’d assumed that she lived with June full-time. I’d never seen another adult there.
“Daddy is a commercial fisherman. He owns his own boat, and he’s gone a lot right now for work. He has to support us, you know.” Bridget picked up a stick and began to draw hearts in the sand. I was amazed at her level of maturity.
“Of course he does. It’s nice that your Grandma June takes such good care of you when your parents are at work. What about your mom? What does she do?”
“My mom... well... she....” Bridget didn’t finish the sentence, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to talk about her mom. I knew all about difficult mother-daughter relationships, so I didn’t push for more information, and she didn’t give it.
“What about you? Where did you live before you came to help your mom?” Bridget turned the tables on me, and it took me by surprise.
“Well, I lived in New York for a lot of years, but I grew up here, in my mother’s house. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back, but my mom’s sick and she needed my help. I’m glad I came back, though. You know, sweetie, as hard as you try, you can’t outrun your problems.” Bridget looked at me and nodded, as if she completely understood.
“I’m sorry your mom’s sick, Hope. I’ll bet she’s really glad you’re home.” The little girl looked at me intently as she reached over and grasped my hand in her small one.
I didn’t know how to respond. I wondered how a child could possibly understand exactly what I needed, but somehow she did. I tried to blink away the tears, but they had already started falling. I didn’t want her to see me crying, but when I glanced in her direction, I saw her wiping away tears of her own.
###
Later that night, I settled into my bed to read more letters. I’d been to visit Mom after the beach trip with Bridget. I was happy to learn she’d be coming home tomorrow, so I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the house in preparation. I knew how particular Mom was about having a spotless house, and I didn’t want her to feel like she needed to do anything but rest when she came home.
Dr. Riddles warned us both that she had to take it easy, and I could tell from the frustrated look on Mom’s face that was going to be difficult for her. Dr. Riddles was hoping to begin the chemotherapy as soon as she was fully healed from the surgery, and in order to heal, she had to give her body ample time to rest.
I was exhausted. I’d cleaned like a madwoman all afternoon, and the house smelled fresh and was ready for inspection. There wasn’t a thing out of place, and I was proud of myself for the hard work. I was sure Mom would find something wrong with it, since my cleaning never met her high standards.
As soon as the thought entered my mind, I scolded myself. She had changed, and she really was trying to be more kind these days. I reminded myself to give her the benefit of the doubt. We couldn’t make progress if I continued bringing up past wrongs.
I read five more letters before turning off the bedside lamp and willing myself to fall asleep. I lay in the darkness thinking about Max and wondering what became of him. I was amazed at the beautiful relationship Mom and he had shared. Each and every letter revealed a deep and mature love on both sides. They were preparing for a future together, and Max was already planning how they could be married after they graduated.
It seemed to me that Max was the romantic dreamer and my mother was the practical one. I was anxious to find out what had happened between them and why they never ended up together. I was coming to realize that I was more like my mom, at least in one area, than I ever knew. Neither of us got the happily ever after that our younger selves wished for.
