Teddi woke feeling disoriented. For a few seconds she stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, fighting panic, and then she remembered.
Dora had come, and Teddi had been banished to the attic.
She knew what Mamie would say if she were to voice that idea. “Oh, Teddi, don’t be silly! You haven’t been banished at all! It’s just that Dora’s pregnant and needs to be near the bathroom. You hardly ever get up at night.”
Teddi lay there, reluctant to move. Then she heard shouted voices from next door. “Jason, hurry up!” A male voice responded, and car doors slammed.
There were neighbors in the house that had once been her home. The Temples. And Jason Temple had asked if he could go with her to the yard sales.
That brought her out of bed, and she quickly dressed in jeans and her best-looking T-shirt, a pale green one with a flower garden motif. She’d have liked one with a funny saying on it, but she didn’t have one.
Mamie was in the kitchen, making waffles. Waffles were usually reserved for leisurely Saturday mornings. Of course today they were in honor of Dora.
“Morning, Teddi! Should we have strawberry jam as well as syrup?”
“Why not?” Teddi agreed, and went to get it.
“I see a new family is moving in next door,” Mamie told her, pouring more batter into the waffle maker. “They have children.”
“Yes. I met the son last night, talked to him when we both opened our windows. His name’s Jason Temple. He asked if we’d take him around to the yard sales to see if he could find some lamps.”
Mamie grinned at her. “Attractive, is he?”
“I guess so,” Teddi said, feeling self-conscious. “Are we all going, you and Dora and me?”
“That might be the best way,” Mamie said.
But when she and Teddi had eaten, and there was no sound from Dora’s bedroom, Mamie changed her mind. “Here,” she said, handing some bills to Teddi, “you and Jason go. See if you can find a baby crib and a dresser. Pay for them, and I’ll go back later with the car to pick them up. Dora’s still asleep, and I don’t feel I can leave her here with no one in the house. If you see any baby clothes, blankets, that kind of thing, get those, too, if they’re in good condition. I’ll get some new things next time I get to town.”
It felt strange to be walking up to ring the bell at the house where she’d lived for so long, but she didn’t have to. Jason came out before she got there.
“Dad says I can take the car, so we don’t have to try to carry stuff home. What do we do, just drive around looking for SALE signs?”
“No, I’ve got a list of places from the paper,” Teddi said. “There’ll probably be other ones, too, so we’ll watch for them. I thought we’d start with this one; it’s only two blocks away.”
It turned out to be a fun morning. Jason was good company, and he made her laugh when he held up one of the ugliest lamps she’d ever seen, asking her opinion, and when he talked about his family.
She would like the Temples, Teddi thought. The little sisters were Annie, who was ten, and Heidi, who was seven. Annie was the quiet, serious one, and Heidi never stopped talking.
“Never,” Jason said solemnly. “Even in her sleep. When I want to read, I have to hide in my room to get away from her.”
“I always wanted a sister,” Teddi told him, scanning tables of odds and ends.
“I’ll give you one of mine. Especially if you take Heidi. Oh, hey, look at this! I’ll bet Annie would love it.” He held up a small straw hat decorated with bobbing cherries. He read the price tag. “Fifty cents.” The lady on the other side of the table was watching him, and he grinned at her. “Make it a quarter and I’ll take it.”
“Sold,” the lady said, and he perched it on his head so that he still had his hands free.
“Very becoming,” Teddi told him, laughing again. “That was a bargain.”
“Half the fun of these things is that almost everybody is willing to negotiate. I don’t see any decent lamps, but there’s a dresser. You want to look at it?”
On close inspection, the dresser was in bad shape. But as they made their way around to the sales listed in the paper, they saw a number of others. Teddi settled for the cheapest one that looked okay, and Jason wrestled it into the car.
Nearly every sale had baby clothes, but most of them had stains or were worn out. There were no cribs, though they did find a bassinet that was in pretty good condition.
“Five dollars,” Teddi mused. “If I buy it, will I have enough left when I come to a good crib?”
“Offer her two,” Jason advised, and to Teddi’s delight, the lady took the money. The bassinet, too, went into the car.
It was late morning when they came across a pair of tall, elegant table lamps. The sticker said, PAIR $15. Jason got them for ten. “Now all we need is a baby crib, right?”
“Right. But the bassinet may work for a little while, if we can’t find the bed.”
“This is for a little tiny baby, right?” Jason asked, stowing the lamps without their shades in the backseat.
“He isn’t even born yet. But I guess he’s due soon.”
“Whose baby is it?”
Jason paused to open the door for her, then went around the car to his own side.
“Dora’s. She was Ricky’s wife, Mamie’s younger son. He was killed in an airplane crash two weeks ago.”
Jason sobered. “Wow. That’s a bummer. She going to live with you?”
“She showed up yesterday, so it looks like it. Mamie didn’t even know Ricky had gotten married.”
“He never even told her he got married? Boy, my mom would kill me if I did anything like that.” Then he flushed. “Sorry, that was a stupid remark, wasn’t it? Where do we go next?”
At the last planned stop before they went home for lunch, they finally located a crib.
Teddi stared at it in disappointment. “It’s pretty ugly, isn’t it? Dora was hoping to have a new one, but she can’t afford it right now.”
Jason shook the small bed. “It’s sturdy, though. A kid could jump up and down in it and it wouldn’t fall apart. You know, a coat of paint would probably make it look fine.”
“You think so?” A smiling lady in a pink smock approached them. “You want the crib? It’s a steal at that price. New ones cost three times that much.”
“Yeah,” Jason conceded, “but they don’t look like they’ve been beaten to death.”
The lady’s smile wavered. “Three of my kids have used it,” she admitted, “but it’s still useful. Is it for yourselves?”
Teddi’s face flamed, but she couldn’t think of anything to say except, “No.”
Jason, however, was not stumped. “With a coat of paint it might not be bad. Tell you what, you knock twenty-five dollars off that price, and we’ll take it and paint it, okay?”
To Teddi’s surprise—and relief—they made the deal. The crib had to be dismantled to get it into the car, where it filled up all the space there was left.
“You’re amazing,” Teddi admitted, sliding into the passenger seat. “I’d never have had the nerve to talk everybody down on the prices like that. You saved me quite a bit.”
“They expect you to haggle. They set their prices in the first place to allow for it. You know, this was fun,” Jason said as they headed for home. “Would you have time this afternoon to show me where the library is?”
“Sure, if Mamie doesn’t have something else planned for me to do,” Teddi said, and hoped Mamie wouldn’t.
Jason brought in the dresser, then carried in the crib parts while Teddi managed the bassinet, setting them on Mamie’s back porch. Mamie came out to inspect them and was introduced to Jason.
“I’ll set it up again, and then we can paint it,” he explained. “We could probably paint that basket thing, too. It’ll look fine when that’s done.”
Dora, however, who obviously had not been up very long, stared dubiously at their purchases. “That crib’s pretty old,” she commented.
“Old, but sturdy,” Jason asserted. “On the way back from the library we’ll stop and get some paint, okay? Now I have to show Mom her new lamps. And give Annie her hat.”
Teddi had a sudden thought. “You bought something for Annie, but not for Heidi. Won’t she feel slighted?”
Jason stopped on the bottom step. “You’re right. She probably will. Hmmm.”
“Heidi’s the little one?” Mamie asked. “Wait a minute, maybe I’ve got something.”
She vanished inside and came back a few minutes later holding a ceramic cow. “My friends know I collect cows and things with cow motifs. They bring me new ones when they go on vacations. I have two just alike of these. Would she appreciate a cow bank?”
Hopeful, Jason took the cow and headed for home across the backyard. The others went inside for lunch. Mamie smiled brightly at the two girls. “I hope tuna fish sandwiches are okay for this afternoon?”
“Sure,” Teddi said, but Dora smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid not any kind of fish agrees with me right now.”
“Oh. Well, we’ll find something else,” Mamie said immediately. “I remember being sensitive to various things when I was pregnant, too. Especially bacon; couldn’t stand the smell of it. I was lucky; all sensitivities were gone after the first few months.”
They settled on chicken noodle soup, eaten mostly in silence. Mamie tried to keep conversation going by asking questions, most of which Dora answered in monosyllables.
At the end of the meal, Dora pushed back her chair awkwardly and stood up. “I don’t suppose you have a heating pad or a hot water bottle, do you? I woke up with a backache, and it just won’t go away.”
“I’ll get my heating pad,” Mamie offered at once.
Teddi had arranged to meet Jason in an hour for their excursion to the library. She thought she had time to read the rest of her borrowed book before then, so she went to get it.
She’d left it on the coffee table in the living room, but it wasn’t there.
“What are you looking for, dear?” Mamie asked as she handed over the heating pad to Dora, who was stretched out on the couch.
“My book. The one with the picture of a blond girl on the cover, with a dog.”
“Oh, is this it?” Dora asked, and there the book was, in her hands. “I picked it up just before lunch and started reading it. It’s quite good. You don’t mind if I finish it before you take it back, do you? I won’t take very long. I’m a fast reader.”
Nonplussed, Teddi swallowed and stared at her. She saw that Mamie was somewhat startled, too, but she left the decision up to Teddi.
Would she seem a total creep if she insisted on having the book back?
Teddi wanted to say that she had to return it to the library day after tomorrow, and she’d really like to finish it today, but somehow her tongue refused to form the words.
In fact, she couldn’t say any words. She murmured something unintelligible and turned away, leaving the room.
She told Jason about it as they left a short time later. He regarded her with level dark eyes.
“Do I get the feeling you don’t like this Dora very much?” he asked bluntly.
Teddi felt the heat in her face. “That makes me sound pretty . . . petty, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not. We have a rule in our house: Nobody can pick up a book someone else is reading until the first person is finished with it. Mom says they almost came to blows about that when they were first married, because Dad would pick up anything lying around wherever she had left it open and start reading it. Then she’d either have to wait until he was through with it or feel guilty for demanding it back. Either way, she said it made her angry. Now she’s got a red leather bookmark, and if it’s in any book, the rest of us leave it alone.”
“Sounds like a good system. I wish I’d thought of it and explained it to Dora yesterday,” Teddi said, feeling guilty.
Three days later, she was still feeling guilty about one thing after another.
She’d felt violated when she’d entered the bathroom—after waiting over half an hour while Dora took a long soak (were you supposed to do that when you were expecting a baby practically any minute?)—and then found the container empty when she went to pour out some of her favorite bubble bath.
It was a bottle that had been her mother’s, one she’d always associated with the fragrance of her mom. She’d hoarded it, using it sparingly, because she didn’t have the money to buy any more. Teddi swallowed her disappointment and took a bath with plain old soap.
Because she knew Mamie didn’t care for dirty dishes sitting around, she picked up the odd coffee cups and sandwich plates Dora left in the living room and disposed of her apple cores, including one that had stood overnight and was covered with ants when Teddi discovered it. There was a trail of them straight through from the kitchen that required getting out a can of insect spray.
At least that time Mamie advised Dora it wasn’t safe to leave anything around that could draw ants, and Dora promised to be more careful.
Teddi was cleaning up the kitchen after supper that evening when Dora came out for a drink of water, then stood watching as the younger girl wiped off counters and the stove.
“How long have you lived with Mamie?” she asked.
“About four months.” Teddi swallowed. “My mother died first, and then my dad. We lived next door, and I’d known Mamie for a long time.”
“Did you know Ricky, too?”
“Yes. He was a lot older than I was.”
“And you were alone when your dad died? You don’t have any other family?”
“No,” Teddi said around the lump in her throat. The old aunts didn’t count; she’d only met them a couple of times, and they’d never shown any interest in her.
“I don’t have any family, either. My dad deserted us when I was a little girl, and then my mom was killed in a street accident. Run down when she was walking home from work.”
Dora was making an effort to be friendly. It seemed only reasonable to be responsive.
Teddi made herself think quickly, to sound friendly. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No. I don’t have a soul except for Danny.” She rested a hand on her protruding belly. “And now Mamie. Thank God for Mamie. She’s a dear, generous person, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.”
“I wish Ricky had told her about me. About us.”
“It’s funny he didn’t,” Teddi said, then wondered if that was less than tactful.
“He didn’t like writing letters,” Dora said, sighing. “How lucky for you, too, that Mamie took you in. So you intend to stay here? You won’t be moving on?”
“I have nowhere else to go,” Teddi said, still fighting the lump.
“We have something in common, then, don’t we?” Dora gave her a small smile. “We’re both alone. It’s a scary thing, to be alone, especially with a baby coming.”
Once the kitchen was in order, they joined Mamie in the living room, where she was reading the paper. She put it down and smiled up at them.
“It’s time we had a talk, don’t you think? I need to know details . . . how you and Ricky met, what your lives have been like. What he did during the past year or so, when I didn’t hear much from him.”
“I’m sorry about that. I guess I should have tried to get him to write to you more, but I don’t have anyone to write letters to, and I just didn’t think about it.” Dora sank onto the couch. “You know what I’d really enjoy? Having you tell me all about Ricky as a little boy, as a young man. He never talked much about himself, and there are so many things I don’t know about. Do you have pictures of him when he was little? I never saw any pictures of how he looked before I met him.”
“Actually, there are snapshots in that big album right over there,” Mamie said. “See, the dark red one. Why don’t I get it down, and we’ll sit on the couch, all three of us, and I’ll tell you about the pictures.”
So they did. Mamie sat in the middle, turning the pages, pointing out her husband, Greg, then Ned as a baby, and then Ricky.
Dora studied the studio portrait of Ricky when he was a year old. “I hope Danny looks like him,” she said softly. “He was so cute.”
It seemed very strange to Teddi to sit looking at photographs of a child, and then a young man, who was no longer living. She wondered how Mamie could bear to do it, and then realized that there were tears running down Mamie’s cheeks, though her voice was steady. Her own eyes were blurry, too.
Dora ran her fingers over Ricky’s first-grade school picture. “Thank you for taking us in, Mamie. I would be so frightened if I were alone, with the baby coming.”
For long seconds Mamie hesitated, as if she, too, like Teddi, had uncertainties. Then she said slowly, “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Dora. “We’ll take good care of you, won’t we, Teddi?”
They spent more than an hour poring over the photo album, and Mamie told stories about her boys as youngsters, some of them very funny. Dora laughed sometimes, and so did Mamie, but Teddi found laughing a hard thing to do when her eyes were so full of tears. And as Mamie was putting the album away, Teddi watched her, and thought that Mamie looked lost and torn about these recent events. As if she, also, struggled with doubts.
But Mamie voiced none of the misgivings Teddi was feeling. If she did, indeed, have them, perhaps it was too much to expect that she would share them with a fourteen-year-old girl who was, after all, only a foster child. Mamie had adult friends to talk to if she needed counsel, if she had questions about Dora that were unanswered except by that totally unexpected marriage certificate.
As she climbed the stairs, Teddi thought that if she were in Mamie’s position, she might investigate Dora more thoroughly before offering her unqualified acceptance. But she could not bring herself to say so. Mamie was the adult; she was far more competent than Teddi to determine the truth of matters, and it was her own business if she chose not to discuss any of it with a kid who wasn’t even related to her.
She continued to feel the sting of tears as she undressed and got into bed, feeling confused and uncertain and afraid of what the future would hold.