The Shoebox

by Lisa Fernandez

  Finally Tom stopped eating on his own, stopped chewing and swallowing. He was given an IV but became non-responsive. Maddy and Kate spent a long night holding each other as they cried, and in the morning they agreed on what Tom would want. They went to the hospital and signed the paperwork authorizing the doctors to remove the IV.

  Not long afterward, Kate had received the phone call.

  Tom had passed away in his sleep.

  It took Maddy and Kate an entire month before they could bring themselves to walk into the Marsden home. However, eventually they were forced to prepare the house for sale. When they unlocked the front door the house felt cold and dusty, although Kate and Sam had maintained it regularly during Tom’s years in the facility. They all knew that neither Maddy nor Kate had wanted to admit to herself Tom was never coming home again.

  Now Maddy bit her lips, standing at Ann’s kitchen island with daylight shining through the curtainless windows onto her shoulders as she carefully wrapped plates in newspaper and placed each one in a box lined with tissue paper.

  “How are you doing, sweetie?” Kate crossed the room carrying another box. “Remember, don’t pick up the box when you’re done, just tape it and call Sam. He’ll put it on the floor.”

  “Kate.”

  Kate paused.

  “How does it look? The house, I mean?”

  Kate stood in the doorway to the dining room and looked around at the dark wooden floors and elegant moldings that Tom had built and framed himself. She sighed. “It looks empty. Lonely.”

  “I know it’s been years, but I swear I can still hear Mom’s heels coming down the stairs. I can still hear her laugh.” Maddy stopped wrapping.

  “I loved Mom’s laugh.” Kate smiled. “I look more like Daddy, but you have Mom’s expressions and laughter.”

  “Thank you.” Maddy smiled gently in the direction of Kate’s voice. “I love that you told me that.”

  “We just have to think of them that way now always, as if they’re still here with us. Remembering them, details about them—keeping them alive in our hearts.” Kate hugged Maddy. “I forgot to ask.” She pulled back. “How was the retirement party? Did the kids surprise you?”

  “It was wonderful.” Maddy sniffed, smiling. “My students got me a cake. They even had a song prepared. I knew they were going to do something but didn’t actually know what it was. They went to so much trouble. The other teachers told me how excited they’d been, planning everything.”

  “Gifts too?”

  Maddy laughed. “The school planted a tree in my name and put a new iron bench beneath it with an engraving in Braille with my name and the years I worked at the school. The principal knew how much I loved roses and bought me a rose bush to take home. I have it out on the deck at my place. It was all very sweet.”

  “I can’t believe my little sister’s retired. You’re going to miss it, you know that?”

  “I know, but I’m still going to tutor on Mondays and Wednesdays, so maybe it won’t feel like I’m completely gone.”

  “Do you regret retiring?” Sam came into the kitchen and crossed to wash his hands in the sink. “Did you want to work longer? You’re not that old.”

  Maddy turned, smiling at his tone. “You know, at first I was afraid I might, but the principal told me about tutoring, and as I weighed both options I realized how tired I’ve become of bringing work home, preparing lesson plans, grading every night. I’ll still be in touch with the kids, but I’ll have a little free time on my hands, which I haven’t had in years. I am looking forward to that.”

  “Just think.” Kate touched Maddy’s arm. “We can have lunch together, go for walks, or maybe take a trip. This is good, my dear. I’m happy for you.”

  “Me too.” Maddy reached for the plates again, selecting a fresh sheet of newspaper.

  Kate stood quietly and watched her wrap for a few minutes.

  “Kate,” Maddy said after awhile. “Do you believe Dad is with Mom now?”

  “Maddy, I know they are.” Kate touched Maddy’s shoulder. “I know they couldn’t wait to be together again, and now they are, and they are happy. I really believe that.”

  “You believe in heaven?”

  “Of course I do. I have to.”

  “So when you’ve lost someone, or you’ve been separated from them, you believe you’ll be reunited one day?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Maddy smiled as she picked up another sheet of newspaper and turned the plate tenderly in her hands to wrap it the other way. She nodded softly to herself, thinking.

  “Dear, let’s get the rest of the boxes from the attic.” Kate’s voice moved away across the room. “That’ll be one more thing to check off the list.”

  Maddy heard their footsteps going up the stairs and the sound of voices echoing in the empty upstairs hall. Rummaging through their parents’ belongings was tedious, but Maddy knew Kate found it healing.

  “These are the last three boxes.” Sam was back a few minutes later to set a stack heavily on the kitchen floor. “Two look like Christmas decorations.”

  “What about this small box?” Kate lifted it.

  “Papers, documents, and these look like letters.”

  “Letters?” Maddy lifted her head.

  Kate glanced at Sam and made room for the small box among the newspapers and dishes on the table next to Maddy. Kate opened it and began to remove papers, cards, envelopes with childish scrawls one by one, until she found a legal envelope in the bottom and opened it. She slipped out a folded sheet of paper and read it silently to herself.

  “What is it, Kate?” Maddy continued to wrap Ann’s favorite serving platter in newspaper.

  “I’m still reading.” Kate spoke quietly as she bit her thumbnail.

  Maddy placed the plate carefully among wadded papers inside an open box. “Something bad?” She touched Kate’s arm.

  Kate took Maddy’s hand. “A letter to Mom.” Kate squeezed Maddy’s fingers. “Dated 1966.” Kate glanced at Sam as she took a deep breath. She sat down on a chair at the table as Maddy pulled out another chair and carefully slid onto it.

  Kate cleared her throat. “Dear Ann—” She paused. “I don’t know where to begin. My heart goes out to you and Tom. Richard and I were devastated to hear the news about Maddy. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I can’t imagine what your family has gone through, and I wish I had more comforting words for you during such a trying time. As for our family, times have been tough as well. We fear that at the moment this information might be too much for Peter to handle. He’s always been terribly volatile, and now we’re concerned about his state of mind. I’m sure, as a mother, you understand me when I say we can’t always predict how our children will take news that they don’t want to hear. Please know we will tell Peter as soon as we feel the time is right. Richard and I will keep you and your family in our prayers. Thank you for keeping us informed. May God bless you.” Kate looked up at Sam as she folded the letter quietly. “Sheila Michaels.”

  Chapter 43

  Progress

  Peter fumbled through the basement storeroom. He cursed under his breath as the sharp corner of an old cardboard box of Christmas ornaments hit him on the head.

  “It has to be here.” He pushed a vacuum cleaner out of the way, knocking his knee into a metal seaman’s trunk. He grimaced as he rubbed his knee with both hands, and then pulled himself up slowly by the elbow against a battered old dresser.

  He leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Where to begin?

  There was his childhood rocking chair with his name etched into the wood. There were the hockey trophies from his junior and senior years in high school. In a plastic zippered bag lay his graduation cap and gown from Boston University. On the shelf above lay the small brass trophies and framed accolades of excellence in architecture that he had accumul
ated throughout the years, dutifully bringing each home to Sheila just to see the smile light up her eyes. Boxes upon boxes, some organized and filed, others piled together in a tapestry of memories.

  Peter caught his breath.

  There it was in the corner, the box of photo albums that Sheila had brought out to show 13-year-old Madeline. He heaved a great sigh as he pulled it out. Behind the heavy box of albums lay a nondescript shoebox with his name, ‘PETER,’ written on it in Amanda’s handwriting in a thick black magic marker.

  He smiled as he ran his fingers over the box and lifted the lid. Nestled below the old postcard, the letters, ticket stubs, and photographs, shone the small silver links and delicate diamond heart. Maddy’s necklace. It once hung around her sun-tanned neck and touched her sweet-smelling skin.

  He replaced the cover gently and tucked the shoebox under his arm as he turned to make his way across the crowded room and close the door behind him.

  Peter sat at the kitchen table with his morning coffee and toast and watched Madeline write on a legal pad. She paused to sip her coffee and glanced up.

  He shook his head. “Honey, that’s too much food. You’re only going to Colorado for a week. I like to drive down to the diner every once in a while, too.”

  “I told you you’re forbidden to drive.”

  “This is ridiculous, sweetheart.” He tugged his collar.

  “If you weren’t so stubborn, Daddy, I wouldn’t have to go to all this trouble. It would be so much easier if you’d just do what I ask.”

  Peter looked at her sternly. “I’ve taken care of you your entire life.”

  “But when I go away to college you’re going to be in this empty house all by yourself. You have trouble going up the stairs at night, your joint pain is increasing, and I don’t want you behind the wheel. Who is going to help if you need to go somewhere in an emergency? You are the most obstinate man!”

  Peter looked away. “The leaf doesn’t fall far.”

  Madeline laughed shortly. “I’m not stubborn!”

  “I think Nick would disagree.”

  “Well, Aunt Amy says you’re the difficult one.” She put her pen to her lips.

  “What does your Aunt Amy have to do with this?”

  “She thinks—and so does Uncle Lance—you should move into the old house with them.”

  Peter slapped the table and threw himself back in his chair. “You’ve gotten together to plan my life?”

  “Dad, when I go away to school, I’ll have to relocate. Even Nick said it would be the best thing.”

  Peter rubbed his hand through his hair, and when he tapped his fingers on the table Madeline reached for his hand.

  “Daddy, listen to me. I love you. You know that. I love you more than anything. But we have reason to be worried. You heard what the doctors said. When the medicine stops working, the pain will become more severe and your situation more problematic. You will need assistance. Cortisone and painkillers will no longer be an option. I’m not trying to make your life difficult. But when I’m not with you someone will have to be.”

  “I understand my own health issues, but, child, I’m still in my prime!”

  “Why are you making things complicated? I tell you I don’t want you to do something, and you do it anyway—”

  “Like what?”

  “Driving.” Madeline squeezed his hand and looked hard into his eyes. “Yesterday you hit the trash can in reverse. You said your leg cramped up on you, and you had trouble steering. Are you going to tell me that that didn’t happen?”

  “One time.”

  “It only takes one time. You could have hurt yourself or someone else. You could have killed someone, Daddy.”

  “I’m not going to kill anyone with a trash can, Madeline.”

  “It’s no use!” She snatched back her hand and returned to her list.

  Peter recognized Tara’s anger in the set of her shoulders and crease of her eyebrows. He leaned forward on his elbows and sighed, watching her in silence for a moment.

  “I’ll be touring the campus, and meeting with some groups.” She didn’t glance up as she wrote. “I will give you my hotel number, you have my cell, and I’m leaving you Dr. Keen’s cell in case mine isn’t getting a signal. He’s my guidance counselor.”

  “You need to relax, honey. You have a lot to see and think about.” Peter laid a hand flat on the table near her notepad. “Madeline, you’re going to be a great doctor. I love the idea of you going into pediatrics.”

  “I haven’t completely decided on my specialty yet.” She paused and laid down her pen. “First I have to survive pre-med.”

  “You will be wonderful. You’re Dillon and Robby’s favorite auntie. You’ve always had that magical way with children.”

  Madeline smiled and Peter waited for the right moment.

  “Honey, I was thinking—I have a friend who works with children out in Colorado.”

  Madeline gave Peter a curious look. “You never told me you knew anyone in Colorado.”

  “We’ve been friends for years. She’s a teacher.” Peter swallowed and nodded. “At a place called St. Bartholomew’s, a school for the blind.”

  “Blind children! Daddy, how sad.” Madeline took his outstretched hand.

  “Actually, it’s not sad.” He gripped her fingers. “It’s an amazing and beautiful place and the children are amazing. Maddy’s worked wonders there.”

  Madeline paused. “Maddy, the girl in the photo—the one who lived across the street from Grandma and Grandpa?”

  Peter took a deep breath and nodded again. The back of his neck burned. “The same girl.” His collar was choking him.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know where she was.” She released his hand.

  “We’ve talked a few times over the years. I haven’t seen her in a long time, but I know she would love to meet you.” Peter leaned down and lifted a shopping bag from the floor to the chair next to him. “Honey, I want to ask you to do something for me.” He paused for a sip of coffee, his hand shaking. “Since you’re going, maybe you wouldn’t mind doing a favor for your frail old man—”

  “You’re not an old man.”

  Madeline smiled and picked up the directions he had laid on the table near the bag. “Daddy, what’s this all about?”

  “Honey, you know how you’ve been thinking of going into pediatrics? Looking for your specific niche? I thought maybe working with the blind—”

  “There’s something else. I know you.” She shook her head, setting down the list. “Why haven’t you ever brought this friend up before?”

  Peter sighed, his heart aching. “I wasn’t ready to talk to you about her, sweetie. But I am now.”

  “You’re making me nervous, Daddy.” Madeline frowned. “Who was she?”

  “You mean who is she?” He stopped and unconsciously put a hand to his wrist, where he had once worn the woven bracelet. “She is the love of my life.”

  Madeline pushed her chair abruptly away from the table. “The love of your what?”

  Peter held his hands up to her and closed his eyes for a moment. She stopped talking and took a deep breath and waited. Peter said calmly. “Honey please let me speak.”

  Madeline folded her arms.

  “I met her when I was in my early twenties. We had planned to be married.” Peter gazed through the kitchen doorway beyond her shoulder, fingering his wrist.

  Madeline rose abruptly and crossed the kitchen. She rubbed her forehead, looking around the counter. “What do you mean, the love of your life? What are you talking about? What about Mom?” She opened a drawer and slammed it shut. “What are you saying?”

  “Sweetie, relax. I can explain—”

  “What more is there to explain? I can’t believe you’re dropping this bomb on me right now. Mom is barely in her grave. Is that
why you didn’t marry my mother? Because you were in love with someone else?” She faced the window, gripping the edge of the sink.

  He bit his lip. After a moment, he pushed his chair back until he was clear of the table and, pulling himself to his feet, reached for her arm, but she didn’t budge. “You’re an adult now, Madeline. I’ve never spoken to you about this because I needed to concentrate on your needs and your mother’s and not my own.”

  “Like that makes this easier?” Madeline turned and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Your mother and I knew exactly what relationship we had. I never lied to her. We never lied to each other.”

  “She knew?” Madeline opened her mouth in shock. “And she understood? That you were in love with someone else and only with her out of pity?”

  “Pity? Never! Your mother and I cared very much for one another, and when you came along you were our entire universe. We stayed together because we knew we could give you a happy family. We did what we thought was best for you.”

  “Let me get this straight. You didn’t love my mother. You loved this other woman. So how did I come into the situation at all? Was Mom a —” Madeline choked on the word. “—A one-night-stand?”

  “Of course not, Madeline!” Peter leaned heavily with both hands on the table and, after a moment, lowered himself back into his chair. “I loved your mother and we were engaged to be married. Maddy had disappeared twenty years before I ever met your mother.”

  Madeline stood still, watching his face.

  “Maddy’s family simply packed up one day and left. They disappeared.”

  Madeline uncrossed her arms. “Why?”

  “Maddy became ill. She didn’t want anyone—she didn’t want me—to know.”

  Madeline sat down slowly across the table from him. “Why didn’t she tell you?”