Patchwork Family

by Bonnie Tharp

  “Of course we can. Do you want some tea?”

  “May I have a soda?”

  “No sugar, okay?”

  “Deal,” the little girl said.

  They sat down at the kitchen table with their beverages and sipped.

  “Gram?”

  “Ahuh.”

  “When can I see my dad?”

  Sitting back in her chair, Annabelle studied her granddaughter. “Do you want to?”

  “Ahuh. I think I’d like to get to know him. He sounded sorry in his letters to us.”

  “I’m so glad you found the letters. He and your mother were very young when they got married. I always wondered if things would’ve been better if they had waited.” Annabelle looked toward the window.

  “Why didn’t they wait?”

  “They were in love. When your mother made up her mind, nothing would change it.”

  The little girl touched her grandmother’s wrinkled hand. “Was Mom always mean to you?”

  “No. When she was little, Liddy used to follow me around the house, doing what I did, always helping. But when she got older, she liked being outside with her father best. She said that sometimes, when the watermelons were ripe, David would accidentally drop one on his toe and it would break. They’d eat the heart of it with their hands, coming back to the house with sticky red faces and fingers.”

  Megan looked at her own hands, still sprinkled with flour, although she’d washed. “I don’t remember her smiling all that much.”

  “It was very hard on your mother when your daddy left. She had to work long hours, and that job wore her out. I tried to make it easier when you were born by coming to live with you, but she really missed your grandpa. Then, when Tom left . . .”

  “She was really sad.” Megan squirmed in her chair.

  “Yes, it turned into frustration then anger.”

  “I was afraid of her. One time Tad and I were fighting in the back seat of the car. She turned around and slapped me over and over again. My whole head hurt.”

  “I’m sorry, honey. She never learned to control her anger.”

  “Tad’s like her that way.”

  Annabelle nodded. “Yes, he has a temper, too.”

  “I don’t think I do, Gram. I don’t like to get mad. It makes my stomach hurt.”

  “Me, too.” Reaching across the table, Annabelle patted Megan’s hand.

  “Do you think she’s happier now?”

  “I like to think she’s rested and will always be young. Maybe she’s with your grandfather. Maybe they’re both happy.”

  “I like that.” Megan smiled with her entire face. “I’ll think of that when I think of her. It’s much nicer than my memories.”

  Annabelle sipped her soda.

  Liddy could never cope with the tough things life threw her. She had become as abusive as her father. What a legacy to pass along.

  Her own grandmother’s wise words echoed in her mind.

  “Don’t look back, sweetheart. You’re not going that way.”

  “What are you thankful for, Megan?”

  “I’m thankful I found your pearls.”

  Annabelle gave her granddaughter’s hand a squeeze. “Me too, honey. Thank you. But surely you’re thankful for other things.”

  “Well. I’m thankful for pumpkin pies.” She giggled, extending one finger for each item mentioned. “I’m thankful that you’re better and that Regina is marrying Sam.”

  “Oh, yes. I love weddings.”

  “I’m thankful that I don’t have to be afraid of Mom anymore.”

  “I am, too. No one likes being afraid.”

  “Were you afraid of my mom?”

  “Not really.” She slowly shook her head.

  “Even though she beat you up?”

  Straightening her shoulders, she faced her granddaughter. This question she had to address head on.

  “Megan, I want to believe that your mother didn’t mean to hurt me. But she had problems, honey. She just couldn’t control herself. She needed help.”

  “I heard Regina say that Grandpa used to hurt you, too. That’s just not right. Why did they do those things?” A tear slid down the little girl’s cheek.

  “He had trouble with anger, too. We didn’t do very well on the farm. We owed the bank a lot of money. We had to auction everything off to pay the bills. I think it hurt him so bad that his anger just made him want to explode. He took it out on me. I shouldn’t have let him.”

  “Is it herditory?” Megan’s eyebrows were drawn together.

  “Do you mean hereditary?”

  The little girl nodded.

  “I think it’s learned. We make choices every day. Some people make bad ones.”

  “You can choose to hit or not to hit?”

  “Absolutely. It’s a matter of self-control.”

  “I don’t think mom had any of that. We might need to get some for Tad, too. He gets really angry sometimes.” Megan looked over her shoulder, finding no one behind her.

  “Yes, he does. But he has to learn it on his own. It’s not something I can teach him, except by example. That’s why I don’t let anyone hurt me anymore.”

  “Is that why you’ve never spanked us?”

  Annabelle looked at her granddaughter’s solemn face. “Yes. I don’t spank unless it’s real serious, life or death kind of stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “Hmm. Things that would injure you or someone else.”

  “Oh, like throwing knives at each other if we play circus?”

  “Yes. I’d have to spank you guys for that one.” Annabelle laughed. “There are some things you just shouldn’t do, no matter what someone else does.”

  “I get it.”

  “Yes, I think you do. But it’s not always easy. You have to keep trying every day, no matter what.”

  The timer dinged. They removed the delicious smelling pies and set the last two on the rack to bake.

  “Oh, look at my little pie. It’s so cute! Can I eat it now?”

  “It needs to cool first, maybe by the time the other two are done you can have it. It’ll melt the whipped crème when it’s hot.”

  “I don’t care, it looks yummy. If you want, I’ll share.”

  “No, this was made for one hungry little girl. I’ll wait until Thursday to eat mine. The trick is going to be keeping your brother from getting into the pies while they cool.”

  “I’ll make a sign.”

  “Good idea.”

  Megan went upstairs to retrieve a marker and index cards. She proceeded to write DO NOT TOUCH on one, HANDS OFF on another, SAVE FOR THANKSGIVING on the last one.

  “That ought to do it,” Annabelle said. “Let’s put these on the dining room table. Move the chairs back so the cats don’t jump up to taste them, okay?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that, maybe we should put them someplace else. Turbo will smell them. He could stand up to eat one. His manners aren’t any better than Tad’s, plus he can’t read.”

  “I’ll make room on the shelf in the pantry. It’s nice and cool in there. We’ll put a cover over each one, just in case a mouse comes in from outside.”

  “Good thinking, Gram.”

  “We make quite a team.” Annabelle gave her granddaughter a hug.

  “We always have.”

  The phone rang. Megan answered it while Annabelle rearranged the pantry, humming off key. “Who is it, Megan?”

  “It’s Regina.”

  “Tell her I’ll be right there.” Annabelle cleared a spot for at least two pies. She had a good idea what to move to make room for the other two, so she hurried to the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello to you, too. What a
re you doing? You sound out of breath.”

  “I’m making room in the pantry for the pies to cool so the animals won’t be tempted.”

  “Two-legged, three-legged, or four-legged animals?”

  Annabelle chuckled. “All of them.”

  “As long as there are no mice in the pantry, I’d say that’s an excellent idea, Cousin.”

  “Thanks.” Annabelle rolled her eyes. Megan giggled.

  “I called to ask you a favor. Would you give me away?”

  “What? Isn’t that a man’s job? Why don’t you ask Joe? I thought I’d be your bridesmaid.”

  “Whoa, girl. Slow down. I asked you because you’re my family. I think the line between men’s and women’s jobs are gone these days.”

  “And I’m the oldest, right?”

  “Yes, you are, but that isn’t why I’m asking you.”

  “I figured Tillie would be your matron of honor, but give you away? That just doesn’t seem right.”

  I wanted to be the bridesmaid. I’ve never been one.

  “I’d like Tillie and Peggy to stand up with me. Sam has asked Joe and Tad.”

  “I see, once again I’m the odd one out.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Okay, how about this? Megan can give me away and you can be the flower girl. Better?”

  Wiping her brow, Annabelle sighed. “I’m sorry. It just hit me wrong. I’ll do it if that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you. Now go take a chill pill.” Regina hung up.

  “What’s wrong?” Megan asked.

  “I just over reacted. Good grief. She’s right, I may need a nap.”

  “I’ll go grab a new book and read until the pies come out if you want to go lay down.”

  “No. Well, okay. I’ll lie down in the parlor, just in case you need anything.”

  Megan patted her grandmother’s shoulder then dashed up the stairs.

  What is wrong with me? Lord, I’m losing any sense I had.

  Chapter 38

  REGINA HUNG UP the phone in the kitchen and sank down at the table with her lukewarm coffee. “I had the most unusual conversation with Annabelle.”

  “Really?” Sam asked.

  “She got very upset when I asked her to give me away. She implied some nonsense about it being inappropriate.”

  “That doesn’t seem right. You and she gave Tillie away which is non-traditional. Something else must be bothering her, don’t you think?”

  “I can’t imagine what.”

  “It’s the end of the year, maybe it’s the taxes. People often react badly to something innocuous when they’re upset about something they don’t know how to deal with.”

  Picking up her cup, Sam dumped the coffee in the drain and poured her a new one. She smiled when he handed it to her.

  “Thanks. I suppose I should tell her what I plan to do before she has another attack over it.”

  “Honey, we don’t know what’s on her mind. She has three kids at home, a recently returned son-in-law, maybe a new boyfriend. And the taxes are due. She just might be a bit stressed.”

  “Oh, I know all that.” She took a sip of her coffee, frowned, pushing it away.

  “She’s never been comfortable financially, has she?” He finished the coffee in his cup, took it to the dishwasher and reached for Regina’s, which had barely been touched.

  “No. I think farming was never as lucrative as her family hoped. Still, I never got the feeling they struggled to eat. I mean, she’s always been plump.”

  “Woman, you’re a snob! Sometimes it’s not how much you eat, but what you eat.”

  “I am not a snob, not really.” She slapped her open palm on the scarred tabletop. “I’m just stating a fact.”

  “You’ve been thin as long as I’ve known you and that’s a very long time.” His grin was infectious. “Wasn’t her father a big man?”

  “Yes. With a barrel chest and ham-size fists. I never understood what my Aunt Rose saw in him, neither could my mother.” Regina began moving her spoon around in the cup.

  “Now you sound like her. I’m a big man, what do you think of me?”

  Regina slipped out of her chair, glided over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  For a lawyer, he’s amazingly fit, and I love every bit of him. Good genes. Too bad I’m too old to have children . . .

  “You, my delicious hunk of man, are perfect.”

  The top of Sam’s ears turned red. He touched her face with his hand then hugged her.

  “You’re forgiven.”

  “For what?”

  “You know I love you, my adorable snob.”

  She punched him, storming from the room. Her back turned so he couldn’t see her grin.

  “Insufferable man.”

  She heard him chuckle.

  Sugar joined Regina on the stairs to her artists’ studio. The three walls of windows gave her light most any time of the day. She loved it. To thank Sam, Regina created a special painting, a Christmas/wedding gift. She’d been very careful to keep it turned to the wall and covered. It appeared that the shroud had never been disturbed. He wasn’t as curious as she, or maybe just better at respecting boundaries.

  Even as a child she’d peeked into the closets and drawers until she found her gifts. Her mother would wrap them, but that didn’t stop Regina. She knew how to carefully peel away the edge of the tape and slide off the ribbon. No one would be able to tell. Regina remembered finding a cashmere scarf and mittens, her china doll and her first box of paints. She had them still, sealed away in a trunk in the attic at the old house. Perhaps she’d see what kind of condition they were in. She’d always taken pristine care of her things, so other than age, they should be perfect gifts for the kids.

  Yes, I’ll go to the house and retrieve them for Christmas. Will they appreciate them? Will they feel cheated because they aren’t new? Crap. I just don’t know. They’re valuable. Hopefully they’ll accept them in the spirit they are given.

  As for Annabelle, perhaps a Thanksgiving gift was in order. The trust, so she wouldn’t have to worry over the house or taxes any more. Time to put things in order, before the taxes were due and she was officially married, and before Annabelle worked herself into a tizzy.

  THURSDAY AT NOON, Regina and Sam picked up the wine and cider on their way to Annabelle’s house. Strange to think of it really belonging to Annabelle, but the papers in Regina’s bag confirmed that fact.

  “I’m going to slip upstairs to the attic before dinner,” Regina said.

  “You don’t think you’ll be needed in the kitchen?”

  Regina laughed. “Not likely. Just keep the kids from following me up. I want to get a few things without everyone asking questions.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a surprise for the kids.”

  “Ah. And what do you intend to do, Rags?”

  “Oh stop. I have some things I’ve been keeping. I think it’s time they were enjoyed.”

  His eyes left the road for just a moment to gaze at her, smiling.

  “Pay attention to your driving, mister.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. Anything you say, ma’am.” His grin spread across his face like a white flag.

  She slapped his arm and chuckled. Regina had brought along a large hobo bag that should hold her treasures. She’d fill it up then put it in the trunk of the car. No one would be the wiser, she hoped.

  They pulled into the drive just as Tad, Megan and Turbo bounded out the front door.

  “Hey there,” Tad said.

  “Hey yourself.” Regina waved.

  Megan ran up and gave them both a hug before running after her brother and the dog. “I’m glad you’re here,” she yelled over her shoulder.


  Regina and Sam smiled at each other, grabbed their contributions to the feast, and headed into the house.

  “Hello!” Sam called out.

  “In the kitchen.” Annabelle’s voice carried all through the house.

  “I’ll take this stuff while you go do your thing,” Sam said.

  “Thanks.” Regina kissed him on the cheek then dashed up the stairs, bag in hand.

  Their voices faded as she ascended higher into the house. It smelled of dust and the stairs still creaked. She marveled at the mahogany railing, shiny and slick from all the hands that had slid along its surface over the years. It felt familiar.

  No, I’m not going back, only forward. Just like Grandmere always said, which is quite prophetic. Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, and today is the day. That’s what life is all about.

  Opening the attic studio door, Regina noticed the easel sitting in the center of the room. Tad’s unfinished canvas sat covered with an old cotton shirt. Regina peeked under it, awed at the young man’s talent.

  Good with color. I admire the raw emotion in every stroke. I’d love to watch him paint sometime.

  Passing through the room to the storage area, she pulled the door open. Expecting everything to be undisturbed was obviously a mistake. Footprints marked the dust and boxes teetered precariously. Regina hoped the kids hadn’t already found what she’d kept hidden all these years. She closed the door. Behind it sat a small flat-topped trunk with brass hinges and several other boxes stacked on top. They didn’t look as though they had been touched.

  Careful not to get dirty, Regina moved the boxes aside, kneeling down. She used the key from the pocket of her skirt to open the trunk. Inside, she found the ivory cashmere scarf and mittens, still wrapped in yellowing tissue paper. The wooden box of paints were untouched. And satin cloth, the pink graying with age, swaddled the china doll. Ignoring the other objects, Regina quickly put these three into her bag and zipped it up. She closed the trunk, turned the key then restacked the boxes on top.

  As she descended the stairs, she listened for voices. It sounded like the adults were still in the kitchen. Regina slipped out the front door. On the porch, she looked for the children. Seeing them romping with the dog two front yards away, she rushed down the steps and locked the bag in the trunk of the car.