Sunflowers

by Melodie Starkey

  “You look resplendent. Your skin and hair are absolutely glowing.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I swallowed a thirty pound bag of cement. These next couple of weeks are going to take forever. I’m just glad school is over.”

  “But you’re okay? She’s okay?”

  “Fine. We’re fine. She’s moved down. The doctor says she’s in position now, so any day is good.”

  “Will you let me be there? Will you call me?”

  “That was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. You still want to be there?”

  “Of course.”

  “All right. The other thing—her birth certificate.”

  “What about it?”

  “I’m Canadian. If you leave my name on it, it gives her dual citizenship.”

  “Why would I take your name off of it? You’re her mother.” When she didn’t answer, he frowned. “Do you not want her to know that?”

  “She can know. But look, you’re getting her lock, stock, and barrel. This isn’t a joint deal, okay? When she’s grown up, fine. But I’m not a kid person. Especially not babies. Too scary.”

  “You were fine with Sam.”

  “That’s because you were here. I knew I wasn’t going to scar him for life. I like kids. But with other adults around to be responsible for them. I never even babysat when I was young.”

  “So are you going to want any news of her at all? Pictures?”

  “Maybe. Like Christmas and school pictures. Birthdays. Could I send Sam and her Christmas and birthday stuff? Just little stuff?”

  “We can sort that out as we go, okay?”

  “Thanks. Have you come up with a name?”

  “Well, Sam was considering Yoda. Or Reebok. Or Padmae. I was thinking I’ll be doing the naming. Did you have any suggestions?”

  “Reebok? That’s interesting. Do you like Victoria at all?”

  “Victoria? That’s a Canadian thing, huh? I’m not very fond of Vickie though.”

  “How ‘bout Tori?”

  “Tori? I like that. Tori. Yes, I really like that. I think it’ll pass the boss’s pinkness test, too. How’s Victoria Evelyn? I need some brownie points with my mom right now—she’s pretty pissed about all this.”

  “About the baby?”

  “Not so much. About me letting Maureen go in the process. She doesn’t believe I couldn’t stop her. She likes her a lot more than she likes me.”

  She shook her head. “You guys really need to work this out. I’m sure your mother loves you. She’s just as stubborn as you are. But Maureen—do you really think she’s gone? That she’d leave Sam?”

  “No. I think she’s waiting for the dust to settle. She’ll be back. She’d never abandon Sam now. And even though no one else seems to want to acknowledge it, I believe her when she tells me that she loves me still.”

  “Good. That’s good. For all of you.” She grimaced and put her hand on her belly.

  “You okay?”

  “Just a quick kick in the ribs. This is really a weird business. I don’t know why some women think it feels so great.”

  “Can I…?” He extended his hand.

  “Sure.” She turned in her chair to give him better access.

  “I think you’re the exception, not the rule. Most women seem to like feeling that.” He gently smoothed his hands over her stomach. “I feel her! This…pointy thing?”

  “Elbow or foot, probably.”

  He leaned closer and said, “Hey, Baby! Getting kinda crowded in there?” The baby moved again. He grinned and sat back. “Sam and Jordan are going to train her to not be a rotten girl.”

  “No dolls?”

  “Dolls are fine. Sam has a Bitty Baby doll around here somewhere. Do you know what that is?”

  “I assume it’s something small.”

  “Not at all. Nearly life-size. It’s a newborn from the American Girls doll collection. Her name is Lolly. When I first put up the crib, I found her sleeping in there a few times.”

  “Did you buy her?”

  “Of course not. I’m a dad. I buy him guy things.”

  “So who…?”

  “Santa.”

  “Ah. Does he still believe?”

  “In Santa? Why, don’t you?”

  She smiled. “I assume you do.”

  “Of course.”

  Chapter 60

  My Dearest Maureen,

  Please don’t be angry at me for intruding on you there, or for bothering your sister for the address (she has, by the way, been suddenly quite cordial to me since you left—should I worry?) I just need to tell you how very bad I miss you. How much we need you to come home.

  Sam has helped me turn the spare room into a nursery. He’s going proactive and forbidding anything pink from the house, based on Angelo’s report that it increases stinky girl traits. He also wanted me to name her Reebok. Or Yoda. I was thinking maybe Victoria. What do you think?

  She is due on May 20. I wish you would come take her home from the hospital with me. I want us to feel like a whole family right from the start. Please. Love,

  Gus

  Chapter 61

  Darling Sammy,

  Good news! I’ve spotted Nessie! She strikes me as the loneliest creature on earth. I’d like to be her friend.

  Love,

  Mommy

  My Darling Gus,

  I want you to know that I never stopped loving you, and I’m sorry that I can’t make myself be the person you need me to be. This feeling is no longer numb—just cold and painful. Please make my baby understand. I trust you. Goodbye.

  Love,

  Maureen

  PS: What about Madeline?

  He read the note over again, refusing to let it make sense. Was she not coming back then? But what about…? He called Cathy.

  She answered on the fifth ring, sobbing, “Gus! How did you know?”

  “Know what? What’s going on? We got these letters today…”

  “She sent you a letter?”

  “Yes. And Sam. What’s going on?”

  She burst into tears.

  “Cathy? Cathy, what happened?”

  Finally the phone changed hands, and Dave said, “Gus?”

  “Yes. What happened?”

  “It’s Maureen. We only just heard this morning.”

  “Heard what?”

  “She went up to Scotland a few days ago.”

  “To Loch Ness. I know.”

  “Drowned. Supposedly took a small boat out on the lake. Said she wanted to take some pictures for her son. The boat washed up the next evening.”

  Gus dropped to his knees, unable to catch his breath. No! This can’t be true! Wake up! This is wrong!

  “Gus? You there?”

  “It’s a mistake! It has to be…”

  “Look, they’re still dredging, but they don’t have a lot of hope. That lake has hidden a dinosaur for all these years. From what I understand it’s a giant, bottomless mud puddle.”

  “Oh Jesus!” he sobbed. “What was she thinking? I should have been there! I should have made her come home!”

  “Look, Buddy, she was a grown up. She couldn’t be ‘made’ to do things—that just pissed her off. You know that. And you know she wasn’t well. We all knew she wasn’t well, no matter how good a front she put on it.”

  “She was better! But I pushed her. I wanted everything my way, just like before.”

  There were mumbling noises, then Cathy was back on the phone. “Don’t you dare start moping around about this. You didn’t do this! She did this to you. She did this to all of us! To Sam! Do you hear me?”

  He shook his head, pushing the tears off his face as he gulped back the sobs in his chest. Frodo nuzzled his face in concern.

  “Gus? When does Sammy get home? Do you have someone to help you?”

  “She told him she found Nessie. She told him she wanted to be her friend. How do I explain this to him?”

 
; “Be honest. Tell him she was sick. He needs to know that.”

  “I gotta…” He hung up, and tipped over onto his side, clutching his stomach as he let the ripping sobs out.

  After a few hours, he was exhausted enough to focus on the present. He looked at the clock. Sam would be home in about half an hour. He had to just tell him. He picked the phone back up and called Craig. “Hey. Can you intercept the guys—I need Sam to come home alone. Nobody else.”

  “Sure. You okay? You sound sick.”

  After a short hesitation, he managed to say it: “Sam’s mother is dead.”

  “What?!”

  “I can’t…” He hung up, pushing the butts of his hands to his eyes to stop another storm.

  By the time Sam banged through the front door, he was in his room sitting on the bed. He glanced at the empty crib, and suddenly it registered: Madeline. Of course.

  “Daddy!”

  “In here. Could you come snuggle a minute? We need to talk.”

  He heard Sam’s bag hit the floor followed by some goofy talk to the cat, then finally the boy appeared in the doorway. “Did she call?”

  He frowned. “Who?”

  “My teacher. She said she was gonna call you an’ tell you I’m a brat. I’m not.”

  “No, you are not. And she’d better not call me, or I’ll scorch her ears off. Come up here.”

  Sam smiled and climbed up on the bed, then allowed Gus to pull him into his lap. At first he snuggled contentedly, but then he leaned back and tilted his head, reaching up to touch Gus’s red eyelids. “How come you been cryin’?”

  “I got some very bad news today. The worst news I’ve ever heard.”

  “Can’t we have a sister after all?”

  Gus smiled in spite of himself. “You don’t fool me. I know what kind of news you’d think that was.”

  Suddenly Sam’s expression changed to fear. “Where’s Mommy?”

  “That’s what we need to talk about…”

  “I need my Mommy! Mommy! Where’s Mommy? I need her now! Call her right now!” He was pounding on Gus’s chest, crying.

  Gus pulled him tight against him, turning his face to miss the flailing punches while his own tears started falling again.

  After several minutes, when Sam’s crying became more regular, Gus lay back with him and cradled him in his arms, kissing his hair and whispering, “I’m sorry.”

  Finally Sam mumbled, “Did her plane crash?”

  “No. She was in a boat. It tipped over. Maybe a storm or something.”

  Sam didn’t say anything.

  “Buddy?”

  “She was looking for Nessie, wasn’t she? She was looking for Nessie for me.”

  “No. As a matter of fact, I have something amazing that came in the mail for you today, just before I found out from Aunt Cathy.”

  “What?”

  “A letter. She sent you a letter, saying she had already seen Nessie! She thought she looked very lonely.”

  The boy sat up, wiping his face. “Really? Really she said that?”

  “Really. By the way, she wants us to name the baby Madeline. What do you think about that?”

  “Madeline! That’s great!”

  “It is?”

  “You know! Madeline! That little girl what lives in two straight lines and she gots a great big dog and she always gets in trouble but she never cries! She’s a great little sister!”

  “Where did you hear about…?”

  “The library lady at school read it to us!”

  “Well, I think it’s a done deal then, okay?”

  Sam nodded, then frowned again. “How will Mommy know?”

  Gus smoothed his face, then said, “Remember when we talked about spirits that time?”

  Sam nodded.

  “Well the thing is, when spirits go up to Heaven, they can see everything that’s going on that they care about. So your Mommy will be able to watch over you and me and Fro and Milo and Madeline all the time, and keep us safe, okay? All you have to do if you’re missing her too much is think of something really nice you did with her, and you’ll feel her in your heart, okay?”

  “We better take a nap.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.”

  Chapter 62

  Cathy and Dave came over to retrieve Sam for the wake at the Lester family’s church. Gus had been pointedly not invited to attend. He considered not sending Sam, but Cathy was actually apologetic to him about it on the phone, and promised to shelter him from the bulk of her parents’ venom. Dave had given Sam a pocket Tetris game to play in the car that would hopefully keep him entertained for awhile.

  Gus sat in the porch rocking chair for a few minutes, then got up and crossed to the garage. He opened the door and gazed at the MG for a long time. Remembered her coming down their street in it the first time, looking like a visiting celebrity with her hair blowing and her expensive sunglasses and the backwards way she waved at Craig and his friends. Who would guess that she had a care in the world? Who would guess that she had such demons in her mind?

  “Ride?” he asked Frodo, who had followed him to the entrance to see if anything interesting had finally happened while he wasn’t looking.

  He loaded the dog into the passenger side and finagled the seat belt around him, then got his sunglasses from his SUV and settled into the driver seat of the car. Where?

  At first he just drove, getting on the tollway and heading west because the traffic was too slow going east. When they got as far as DeKalb, he decided to turn around, first stopping to let Frodo check out a vacant lot behind the Shell station while he bought gas.

  Instead of home, he ended up at Maureen’s apartment. He smuggled Frodo up with him, and let him sniff out all the traces of Milo while he just stretched out on her bed. Funny; he had never been with her here. Even before everything got so messed up in February—this was her home. He dropped by to visit when he was retrieving Sam, but any intimate time they shared had always been at his place. Why was that? They’d never discussed it; he had just never come over here alone, even though she had given him keys the day she moved in.

  He pulled the pillow out from under the bedspread and held it to his face, trying to draw any last traces of her smell from it. Laundry soap. She must have changed the linens before leaving. Looking around, it suddenly struck him that it really didn’t look like anyone lived here at all. There were some clothes in the closet and a few cosmetics on the counter in the bathroom, but it was more like an occupied hotel room. He opened the nightstand drawer. Pill bottles. Shouldn’t she have taken these with her?

  And then as he started to sit up, his eye caught on something half-hidden by the open door. He walked over and shut the door, then backed up to study the large framed print of Van Gogh’s Vase with Twelve Sunflowers. When had she purchased this? He didn’t remember it from when he’d helped her move in. He stretched his fingers toward it, amazed at the startling texture even in this replica. Instead of touching the surface, he removed it from the wall. When he leaned it against the bed to reopen the door, an envelope dropped out of the back of the frame. He frowned, picking it up. It wasn’t addressed to anyone, nor sealed, so he opened it. Inside, a piece of paper simply read, “This print belongs to August Moore. Make sure it is returned to him in the event that anything happens to me.”

  He frowned more, and began to circle the apartment, peering behind the other wall decorations. Nothing. He decided to take the framed movie poster of Star Wars: Attack of the Clones from Sam’s room, as well as the book and photos he had left behind before. Whistling for Frodo, he headed out to the car.

  The manager stopped him in the parking lot. “Hey, Man, I heard what happened. Real sorry ‘bout that.”

  “Yeah, Thanks.”

  “Don’t worry ‘bout the apartment—she’s paid it up through September.”

  “All right. I’ll need to have her sister help me go through it.”

  “Right. Hey, can you wait a sec? I got some mail for y
ou.”

  “All right.” He loaded the pictures and the dog into the car while he waited.

  The manager handed him a stack of mail, then said, “You plannin’ on keeping the car, then?”

  “Not sure. Why?”

  “If you decide to sell it, could you maybe let me know? I mean, I know it’s worth a lot, but I might be able to swing a loan…”

  Gus nodded. “I’ll keep you in mind. It’s not really a very practical car for me, with the kids.”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “Dog looks great in it though!”

  “Thanks. We’ll see you later.”

  When he got home, he hung the Star Wars poster in Sam’s room for a surprise, then carried the painting into his own room. After surveying things, he moved the furniture around some, then took down a large mirror and replaced it with the sunflowers, hanging it directly across from the bed. He lay down to study it until he heard Sam’s voice in the foyer.

  Cathy was standing just inside the door, her face puffy with crying. She rested her hand on his arm and murmured, “Thanks.”

  “Where’s Sam?”

  “He went after the cat—that way.” She pointed toward the kitchen.

  “Everything go okay?”

  “Yes. He played the dot game with the girls for awhile—kept them all quiet. You okay?”

  “I suppose.”

  “What’s that?” She pointed at the stack of Maureen’s mail on the entry table.

  “Oh. I just picked it up—I’ve been picking up her mail. I haven’t gone through it though. It’s usually mostly junk.”

  Cathy pushed through the envelopes delicately, then stopped. “Did you see this?” It was an envelope addressed to both Gus and Cathy in care of Maureen. The handwriting was Maureen’s.

  They exchanged a long look, then he said, “I can’t take another one. You open it.”

  She lifted it like a loaded gun, then carefully tore the flap and read aloud:

  “Dear Cathy and Gus,

  Please take this opportunity to attempt to bury the hatchet (and I don’t mean in Mother’s forehead). Sammy needs you both to answer his questions and get through this.