Chain Reactions

by Lynn Ames

  “What do you suppose the chances are that Mary kept her parents’ house?”

  “Hard to say. According to these documents, she would appear to have been an only child.”

  “Did Emily say anything else?”

  “She did a blanket search for newspaper articles or anything else related to Mary, including Mary’s time in Oak Ridge, any stories about her homecoming, any marriage information…”

  “And?”

  “She came up blank.”

  Diana carried her plate to the sink. “You know what’s going to happen next, right?”

  “We’re going to book a trip to Philadelphia?”

  Diana nodded. “My geography isn’t great, but Pennsylvania is south of here, and Tennessee is south of there…”

  “You want to stop in Philly and try to find Mary on our way to bury Nora’s ashes?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s brilliant. We can take the letters with us. They belong to Mary.”

  “If we can find her.”

  “I think it’s encouraging that Emily didn’t find a death certificate for her.”

  “Can you imagine meeting the great love of Aunt Nora’s life?”

  “What if she doesn’t want to be found, or doesn’t want to remember?”

  “There’s only one way to find out, and I think we have to try.”

  “For Nora.”

  “For Aunt Nora,” Diana agreed.

  Slight left turn in a quarter of a mile.

  “I hate that.” Diana said.

  “What?”

  “That every GPS I’ve ever used says ‘a quarter of a mile,’ instead of ‘a quarter mile.’”

  Brooke laughed. “What are you, the grammar police?”

  “In this case I am.”

  Turn now.

  Diana followed the command. “This is the block.”

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “I’m nervous? You?”

  “Me too.”

  “What if she slams the door in our face?”

  “What if she’s dead?”

  “What if we’ve got the wrong Mary Trask?”

  “That would be a huge disappointment.”

  Your destination is on the left. You have arrived at your destination.

  Diana slowed the rental car to a stop and parked in front of a quaint, aging three-story brick-and-wood home. A porch swing, hung in the corner of the front portico, looked as though it hadn’t been used in a long time. She cut the engine. “How do I look?”

  “Gorgeous.”

  “I mean it. Do I look presentable?”

  “You look amazing and so much like pictures of Nora back in the day that Mary’s bound to see the family resemblance.”

  “Okay, well, here we go.” Diana paused halfway out of the car. “Do you think we should take the letters with us?”

  “No. I think we should ring the doorbell first and make sure we have the right place and the correct Mary.”

  “Good call.” Diana came around the car and they strolled together up the walkway and the front steps to the door. “Here goes nothing.” She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and rang the doorbell.

  A moment later, an elderly woman peeked out from around the corner of the door. “Can I help you?”

  “We hope so,” Brooke said. “We’re looking for Mary Trask.”

  The woman’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

  “Are you Mary?” Diana asked.

  “Heaven’s no,” the woman answered. “Mary hasn’t lived here in, oh, ten years or more.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to have bother—”

  “Do you know Mary?” Brooke cut Diana off.

  “Why yes, of course. She sold me this house. We’ve been friends for years.”

  “My name is Brooke Sheldon. This is Dr. Diana Lindstrom. Mary was dear friends with Diana’s great-aunt, and we’re trying to find her. Can you help us?”

  “Is Mary still alive?” Diana asked.

  “She is. Still spry and sharp too. Puts me to shame and I’m eight years her junior.”

  “Do you know where we might find her?”

  “Well, she lives in a retirement community now, but most days she volunteers at the Penn Libraries. She retired from there some years ago but likes to keep her hand in and her mind occupied.”

  “The Penn Libraries?”

  “Yes, dear. Mary volunteers at the Biomedical Library.”

  “I’m sorry. We’re from out of town. Where might they be?”

  “Johnson Pavilion, 36th and Hamilton Walk.”

  “Thank you.”

  Diana and Brooke waved on their way back to the car.

  “Tell Mary I said hello!”

  “We will.”

  When they were buckled in and Diana had inputted the address into the GPS, Brooke said, “That was productive. Now we know that not only is Mary alive, but she’s still got her mental faculties.”

  “And, we know where we can find her.”

  “Assuming she’s volunteering today.”

  “Assuming she’s volunteering today. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.”

  “Thank God the day is still young.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Three wrong turns and twenty minutes spent parking later, Diana and Brooke entered the Biomedical Library and approached the information desk. A thirty-something balding man behind the counter was assisting a customer.

  “I’ll be with you in a second, folks.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I don’t see anyone older than us,” Diana mumbled.

  “Stop worrying,” Brooke whispered. “We’ll find her.”

  “How can I help you?” the man asked.

  “We’re looking for someone who works here.”

  “A volunteer, actually.”

  “Okay.”

  “Her name is Mary Trask.”

  The man’s face lit up. “Ah, our Mary. I know she was helping one of the students find some obscure medical journal article. Just a second and I’ll see if she’s available.” He started to walk away. “Can I tell her who’s looking for her?”

  Diana panicked. If Mary knew it was Nora Lindstrom’s great-niece, would she refuse to see them?

  Brooke stepped in front of Diana. “Brooke Sheldon on behalf of an old friend of Mary’s.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  Brooke nudged Diana. “You have got to pull yourself together.”

  “I will. I was afraid if she heard the last name…”

  “She wouldn’t see us.”

  “Right.”

  “Oh, look.” Brooke pointed to the right. “Here she comes.”

  “She’s in great shape,” Diana said.

  The tiny woman accompanying the balding man carried a cane but didn’t seem to need it.

  “I’m Mary Trask.” Her gold-brown eyes were keen and alert, and her beautifully flowing gray hair appeared as though she’d recently had it done.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then. Holler if you need me, Mary.”

  “I’ll be fine, Will. Thank you.” Mary turned her attention to Brooke and Diana.

  “Will says you’re here on behalf of a friend of mine?” Mary gazed from one of them to the other.

  “Yes,” Brooke answered. “My name is Brooke Sheldon. This,” she touched Diana’s arm, “is Dr. Diana Lindstrom.”

  Mary stumbled a step and Brooke caught her by the arm. “I’m sorry. Did you say your last name is Lindstrom?”

  Diana nodded and swallowed hard. “Y-yes. I’m…I’m Nora Lindstrom’s great-niece.”

  Brooke kept hold of Mary’s arm, for which Diana was grateful. Mary’s face had gone pale.

  “My word. I haven’t heard that name in a very, very long time.”

  “Why don’t we sit down over there?” Brooke pointed to a grouping of comfortable-looking chairs to the left. She led Mary in that direction and helped her sit. “Can I get you some water?”

  “No.” Mary
put her hand to her heart. “I’m fine, dear. I just need a minute.”

  Diana squatted in front of her. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Mary nodded.

  “Maybe we should get her some water anyway?” Diana said to Brooke.

  “That won’t be necessary. Really. I’m fine. This is quite a shock, though.”

  Diana chose the seat next to Mary and Brooke flanked her on the other side.

  “You’re Nora’s great-niece, you say?”

  “Yes. Her brother, Bill, was my grandfather.”

  “I see.” She stared at her so long Diana squirmed. “Now that I look at you, you certainly favor her. Those piercing eyes and blond hair. I…” She took a moment to collect herself. “Let’s just say there are some things one never forgets.”

  “I can tell you Aunt Nora never forgot you.”

  Her eyes opened wide again. “Didn’t she?”

  “No,” Brooke said softly. “She kept all the letters she wrote you after the war.”

  “She…”

  Diana took her hand. “May I speak plainly? Will it offend you?”

  “If you mean am I still in the closet, the answer is, heavens, no. I’m an old woman. If anybody minds that I’m a lesbian, they can tell it to someone who cares.”

  The answer surprised a laugh out of both Brooke and Diana.

  “Okay, then,” Diana said. “I’m glad we cleared that up. Mary, you were the great love of Aunt Nora’s life.” She felt the impact of the words in Mary’s grip.

  “I-I can’t believe it. Is Nora…?”

  “She passed away a few weeks ago. She lived to be one hundred, and she was mentally sharp all the way to the end.”

  Mary closed her eyes as a tear leaked out. “Oh, dear.” Brooke handed her a tissue. “Was she alone at the end? Please tell me she wasn’t all alone at the end.”

  “We were with her,” Diana said. “She knew she was loved.”

  “How on earth did you find me?”

  “Aunt Nora left us her papers, including a journal she kept during the war.”

  “Ugh. That damn journal!” She shook her head. “She was always writing in it before lights out.”

  “As I mentioned, she also left a stack of unopened letters addressed to you. They were all marked return to sender.”

  She sighed. “Yes, I know. I’ve regretted that for years.”

  “You have?”

  Her smile was sad. “Oh, yes. Eventually I grew up, you know. And I understood. I understood that she was just following orders like the rest of us—that she was in an impossible position. I was very unfair to her, I’m afraid.”

  “Why didn’t you tell her?” Diana asked softly.

  “I tried, once. It was a few years after the war. I finally came to my senses and I wrote her a long letter of apology.”

  “You did?”

  “Oh, yes. I sent it to the last address I had for her, but it came back to me. It was marked return to sender, but not in Nora’s handwriting. It said Nora didn’t live there anymore, and there was no forwarding address.”

  Diana nodded. “That must’ve been after she moved to Hiroshima.”

  Mary stiffened. “She did what? She moved to Hiroshima? The city we bombed?”

  “Yes,” Brooke said. “She went to work for the Atomic Bomb Casualty Commission. In fact, she devoted many years to studying the effects of the radiation exposure on the Japanese survivors and their descendants.”

  “After that,” Diana chimed in, “she moved back to the states and worked to find a cure for childhood leukemia, which was one of the most prevalent maladies contracted by survivors of the bomb.”

  Mary dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, dear, sweet, Nora. You blamed yourself, didn’t you?” When she gazed back at them, her face reflected pure anguish. “I did that to her. I was a young, naïve, foolish girl.”

  “I know Nora didn’t think that,” Brooke said. “She loved you until the day she died. She dreamed about you at the end.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes,” Diana agreed. “We think she meant for us to come find you.”

  “She did?” Mary cleared her throat. “You know, if I’m going to be honest, I never got over her either.” She smiled wanly. “Oh, I moved on. I found a very lovely, understanding woman who didn’t mind that my heart never fully belonged to her. She knew all about my Nora, and she loved me anyway. I was a very lucky girl. We were together for fifty-six years.”

  “What happened to her, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Eloise passed on a little over a decade ago. That’s when I sold my parents’ house to Eloise’s youngest sister and moved into a retirement community. I figured I’d better prepare for the future.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Did Nora… Did she have a girl?”

  Diana shrugged. “We don’t know. Aunt Nora disappeared from my life when I was ten. I never heard from her again until she was dying.”

  Mary sat straight up. “That’s horrible. Why would she do that?”

  “It wasn’t her choice. My grandfather found out she was a lesbian and blackmailed her into going away.”

  “That horse’s ass. She never liked him, you know. The stories she used to tell.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t know much about Aunt Nora’s personal life at all.”

  “I see. Well, I could tell you some things about her.” Mary’s eyes took on a far away, dreamy expression.

  “I bet you could.”

  “She cut quite a figure, I’ll say that. I was taken with her from the first moment I laid eyes on her.”

  Brooke laughed. “She said the same thing in her diary about you.”

  “She did? That sweet-talker.”

  “Mary? Are you okay?” The bald-headed man approached. “It’s getting late. I don’t want you to miss your trolley.”

  “I’m fine, Will. Don’t worry about me.”

  “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to take up all your time.”

  “You take the trolley home?” Brooke asked.

  “Well, you certainly don’t want me driving on the roads at my age.”

  “May we give you a ride home?”

  “Oh, my. What a generous offer. Why, certainly. I think I’ll be safe enough with you two girls.”

  Mary gave them directions to Atria Center City and they chatted companionably until they reached her apartment.

  “Come in, girls. Please. I haven’t had a chance to tidy up, so I’ll apologize for that.”

  “Are you kidding? This place is immaculate,” Diana said. She noted a framed picture on the wall of a much younger, smiling Mary, with a very handsome woman. “Is this your Eloise?”

  “Yes. We were visiting the Grand Canyon. That was right before I told her I was terrified of heights.”

  “Before I forget, I have to go get something out of the car.” Diana glanced at Brooke, who nodded at her in return.

  When she came back, Diana handed Mary the stack of letters secured with the ribbon. “These are for you. Brooke and I couldn’t bring ourselves to open them. These were between Aunt Nora and you.”

  “Oh.” Mary gripped the chair arm for support.

  “Here. Sit down.” Brooke guided her into the seat.

  “I can’t believe she kept these all this time.” She held the letters in her lap.

  “She also kept this one.” Diana produced the opened letter from Mary to Nora. “It’s open because Aunt Nora opened it. We didn’t read it.”

  “Golly, I wish I’d never written that letter.” She sighed and added the letter to the pile.

  “We don’t want to tire you out,” Brooke said.

  “Yes, we should get going,” Diana agreed.

  “Wait. Where do you live?”

  “We live outside of Boston. I’m a professor of neuroscience at Harvard. Well, technically not quite yet. I’m teaching at Columbia, but I’m about to transfer my research to Harvard.”

  “That’s grand.
I bet Nora was so proud of you.” Mary set the letters on a nearby table. “You came all this way just to see me?”

  “Actually, we’re on our way to Oak Ridge. Nora asked that her ashes be buried at a place called The-Chapel-on-the-Hill.”

  “Oh.” Mary clutched her chest again.

  “She said her life began there. It was only fitting that it ends there.”

  “Oh, Nora.” Mary shook her head. “You’re going there now?”

  “We have a flight to Knoxville tomorrow.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I’m sure I’m too late if you’ve already got plane reservations.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “For me to come with you.”

  Diana looked at Brooke. “If we could arrange it, you’d come along?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind the company. I haven’t been back to Oak Ridge since, but I feel like I owe it to Nora. It might bring us both closure.”

  “We’d be honored if you’d join us,” Brooke said. “Could you leave tomorrow? We were only planning to stay for a day or so and fly back.”

  “It’s not like I have anyone to answer to,” Mary said. “I’ll pack a few things. You tell me when I need to be ready.”

  “Stop here,” Mary said.

  Diana did as she asked and stopped the car. “It looks so different, but that’s where the Elza Gate stood. I came through there the first time I arrived at Clinton Engineer Works. There were armed guards and every person had to have a special ID pass.”

  “Do you still have yours?”

  “Heavens, no. After I realized what we girls had been doing and I returned home to Philly, I threw everything away.”

  Diana resumed the drive into town.

  “Turn.”

  Diana complied.

  “It’s still here.” Mary put a hand to her mouth. “Jackson Square. That corner there was the Center Theatre, it’s where Nora and I went on our first date.”

  Diana decided not to share with her that she and Brooke had read all about the date. “Apparently, we can’t just drive to the Y-12 plant. That’s where you worked, right?”

  “Yes. That was home to the Calutron machines.”