by Judy Duarte
It had been the first time Barbara had realized that she’d dropped to a secondary position in her son’s life, and she’d been taken aback. She’d also been hurt, but over the years, she’d come to respect Joey for his devotion and loyalty. And more than once she’d wondered if his father would have ever done the same for her.
She wasn’t sure that he would have. In spite of her best efforts, the two of them had drifted apart over the years. In fact, they’d never had the closeness that Joey and Cynthia had, which Barbara had attributed to the fact they hadn’t had children and were able to spend more time together than a lot of couples.
After greeting her daughter-in-law, Barbara asked, “Have you talked to Joey today?” She’d assumed so.
“Yes, I called him while he was eating breakfast. He’s doing about the same. He’s also getting tired of being here.”
“I can understand that.” Barbara would give anything to see Joey at home, even if he had to lie in a hospital bed in the guest room and continue to take it easy.
“He’s always been so active, so healthy, that this is especially trying for him.”
“I’m sure it is,” Barbara said. “But it’s not a walk in the park for the rest of us, either.”
“I know, but I think it’s best if we don’t complain. I don’t want to make it any harder on him than I need to.”
“By the way,” Barbara said, “when they do finally let him out of here, I think the two of you should come and stay at our house. I’ll hire round-the-clock nursing, if the doctor thinks it’s needed.”
“I think he’d rather be at home. But we can talk about that later. It doesn’t look as though they’re going to let him out anytime soon.”
Barbara’s heart sank. She’d been afraid of that. As long as she thought that the doctors would either discharge him or that they would schedule the surgery at any given moment, she stayed on top of the stress and worry. “So there haven’t been any major changes?”
Cynthia slowly shook her head. “Not as of yesterday afternoon.”
The revolving doors spun open, and both women turned to see Pastor Craig walk out. When he recognized Cynthia, he strode right to her and gave her a hug. “How’re you holding up?”
She smiled, clearly touched by the man’s concern. “I’m hanging in there.”
Barbara wondered what it would be like to have someone in her corner, someone to wrap his arms around her and ask how she was doing through this trying time. Not that Joseph wasn’t supportive, especially when it came to their son. It’s just that he and Barbara didn’t embrace all that much anymore. In fact, they rarely even touched, and she wasn’t sure how or when that had all come about.
“I take it you’ve been inside to see Joe,” Cynthia said. “Or were you here to see someone else?”
“There are a couple of other parishioners here, and I saw them all. Joe was the last one I visited. His spirits are good, and he’s waiting to hear the latest lab results.” Craig turned to Barbara and extended his hand. “Hello, Mrs. Davila.”
She greeted him and offered him a smile. “It’s nice of you to stop by and see him regularly. I know he really appreciates it.”
“It’s the least I can do. Joe’s one of my favorite people.” He smiled warmly, then added, “I saw your husband earlier. He was on his way to a meeting and stopped in to bring Joe a book he’d been talking about.”
She returned his smile, surprised that Joseph had managed to slip away during the day for a visit to their son. He’d been incredibly busy with the campaign. At least, that’s what he always told her.
The pastor turned to Cynthia. “Elise Rodgers gave birth last night. It’s her fourth child and her first son.”
Barbara glanced at Cynthia, wondering if the news hurt. She and Joey had tried for years to have a child, but hadn’t had any luck.
If Craig’s announcement had struck a painful chord, Cynthia didn’t let on. “The baby was early, wasn’t it?”
“Three or four weeks, but everything seems to be okay. By the way, Chuck Masterson was also admitted yesterday.”
“Isn’t he the nice man who’s the janitor at church?”
Craig nodded. “That’s him. You might want to keep him in your prayers. He’s having some serious health issues.”
“I’ll do that.”
In some ways, Cynthia reminded Barbara of her mother. They both had a lot of faith and were quick to pray for others.
Not that Barbara wasn’t a believer. She was, but she didn’t get carried away with it. She attended church, but usually only on the important days, like Easter and Christmas. It was better that way. No one expected her to serve on any committees, attend Bible studies, or join prayer groups.
To be honest, whenever she’d had anything serious to worry or stress about in the past, she’d asked her mom to pray for her.
Her mom had often suggested they pray together, but Barbara had declined to go that far. She just didn’t feel all that close to God.
Once, her mother had implied that she was probably struggling with guilt, which had really set Barbara off. For some reason, as far as her mom had been concerned, all roads led back to that fateful decision to give up the baby.
But Barbara was okay with what she’d done. It had been her only option at the time.
“Maybe you ought to come clean,” her mother had once suggested, but that was the last thing in the world Barbara would do. Besides, she felt as though God knew what she’d done and why. And she figured He was okay with it.
So up until Joey’s heart attack, Barbara had stopped asking her mom to pray about anything.
And afterward? When she’d really had need of her mother’s prayers the most?
Her mom hadn’t been coherent enough to even realize that Joey was ill.
Before leaving the townhome that morning, Amy had packed bread and lunch meat for sandwiches, as well as fruit and peanut butter cookies for dessert. So while the girls played a board game on the back porch, she fixed their lunch.
As she laid out the bread on a piece of paper towel she’d placed on the counter, she reached for the low-fat mayonnaise and paused. Callie’s friend Rachel was lactose intolerant. Maybe Amy had better make sure Sara didn’t have any food allergies or wasn’t fussy about the things she ate. So she opened the door, where the girls had spread out their colorful game board.
Eddie was in the backyard, too, working in the rose garden, where the bushes no longer appeared to be wild and dry. Thanks to some regular watering and a bit of pruning, the leaves were brighter and a few buds had begun to open.
“Do you like turkey sandwiches?” Amy asked Sara.
The girl nodded, then reached for her purple playing piece and moved it three spaces.
Amy looked out into the rose garden and called to Eddie. “Would you like a turkey sandwich? I’ve got plenty.”
“Thanks, but I packed a lunch today.” He clipped one of the blooms, then started toward the porch. “But here, take this with you into the house.” He handed her a rosebud, a dark shade of lavender.
Amy carefully gripped the stem, lifted the blossom to her nose, and took a deep whiff. She imagined Ellie relishing the fragrance of another bloom from the same bush, only on a different day in time. In a way, she supposed it was a memory they both shared. “Thank you, Eddie. It’s beautiful.”
“I thought so, too. You don’t see many like this, and it smells good, too. The lady who used to live here must have really loved gardening. Do you have a vase you can put it in?”
“I’ll find something.”
As Eddie started back to work, and Amy turned to go into the house, Callie pointed to the fence. “Mommy, look! A kitty.”
It was the white-and-calico cat Amy had seen yesterday.
“It’s Patches,” Sara said.
Amy glanced at the corner of the porch, where she’d put out food yesterday. The bowl of Kitty Delight was empty and only the saucer of water remained.
“Patches used to be Ell
ie’s cat,” Sara said, “but it ran away after Ellie moved into our house and stopped talking to people.”
Amy hadn’t considered how Ellie’s tragic transformation from nice neighbor to a woman who’d sunk deep within herself might have affected Maria’s children. Or how they might be adapting to having both Ellie and Captain move in with them.
She suspected it had certainly changed the family dynamics.
From inside the house, she heard the doorbell. Thinking she’d better get it, she left the girls to play outside and hurried into the living room to answer.
When she swung open the door, Maria stood on the stoop. “How are the girls doing?”
“Great. I’m fixing their lunch now.”
“The associate minister came by to visit Ellie and Captain. And since Wally went down for an early nap, I thought I’d come over and check on Sara while Pastor Craig is holding down the fort.”
“Come on in.” Amy stepped aside so Maria could enter. “Would you like a sandwich?”
“No, thanks. I already ate.”
Amy led Maria past the stacks of boxes she’d begun to accumulate in the living room and took her into the kitchen. “Have a seat. It’ll just take me a minute to get them settled.”
“Speaking of getting settled…” Maria pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “Yesterday, when I told Callie that it was going to be nice having her live next door, she said that she lives in Del Mar. That she’s only staying here while her mother packs boxes.”
Amy’s steps slowed, and she bit down on her bottom lip. She couldn’t lie to Maria any longer. “If you give me a chance to feed the kids, I’ll explain.”
“Sure. Do you want me to put on some water for tea?”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
Five minutes later, the girls were taking a lunch break outside, and the mothers were sitting at Ellie’s kitchen table.
Amy dropped the tea bag into her cup so it could steep in the hot water. “Callie and I aren’t actually going to move into this house.”
Confusion splashed across Maria’s face. “I don’t understand. Barbara said that you signed a lease.”
“I did.” Amy placed her elbows on the table and circled the china cup with her hands, but she didn’t pick it up, didn’t take a drink. “My mother passed away six months ago from breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Compassion and uncertainty wrestled in Maria’s expression.
“It was tough. She wasn’t just my mom, she was my best friend.” Amy glanced at tea brewing in her cup. “My mother was adopted when she was a newborn. And before she died, she’d been determined to find her birth mother.” She looked at Maria, who didn’t appear to be seeing any connection in her question and in Amy’s explanation, but she continued to listen.
“I don’t think a child could have had a better home than she did,” Amy added. “My grandparents adored her and provided her with everything a little girl could ever want. But for some reason, she was driven to meet her birth parents and find out why they’d given her up.
“When I got married and had Callie, she seemed to put off the search for a while. And quite frankly, I was glad. I adored my grandparents and couldn’t imagine how they’d feel if and when my mom uncovered her roots. I thought it would probably break my grandmother’s heart.”
“I can see where she might be hurt,” Maria said, taking a sip from her cup.
Amy finally removed the tea bag and added a dash of sugar. “When my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer, her compulsion to find her biological family returned, stronger than ever, and she even hired a private investigator to help.”
“Did she find them?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m sure she would have said something to me if she had. The urge to find them was too strong.” Amy pulled the tea bag from her cup. “After she died, I decided to continue the search for her—as a tribute, as a parting gift, I guess.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Maria asked.
Amy nodded. “While going through her belongings, I found a file with all of her notes regarding the adoption and what she’d uncovered so far. And the search led me here.”
“To Ellie?” Maria asked.
“To Barbara Rucker.”
Maria leaned back in her seat, taken aback by Amy’s revelation. “Ellie has shared different things with me in the past, but she never mentioned Barbara giving up a baby. She must have gotten pregnant before she and Joseph married.”
“There are a lot of questions and no one to really answer them for me. But when I found this house and saw that it was for sale or lease, I rented it furnished. And I offered to pack up Ellie’s personal effects for the family. I’m not sure what you think about that, but it seemed the best way for me to learn about the family without encroaching on their privacy, especially with Mr. Davila being ill. Introducing myself to Barbara now might be unsettling, and I don’t want to cause her any unnecessary stress.”
“Have you found anything helpful?” Maria wasn’t sure how she felt about Amy snooping through Ellie’s belongings, uncovering secrets, but something told her Ellie would have welcomed her great-granddaughter with open arms and would have told her whatever she’d wanted to know.
“I found some letters to Ellie from Harold,” Amy said. “And a journal and part of another. After reading them, I’ve come to realize that my great-grandmother was a wonderful woman. The kind of person I might have chosen as a friend, if we’d been of the same generation.”
The women lifted their cups, but neither spoke for a while. Maria still struggled with Amy’s deception, yet she couldn’t say that she blamed her for taking advantage of an opportunity to get to know the Ruckers. If it hadn’t been Amy packing Ellie’s things, Barbara probably would have hired someone else.
Or maybe she would have asked Maria to do it. And if Maria had been the one to find those letters or the journal, she might have read them herself.
“My mom was a talented pianist,” Amy said. “And when I found Ellie’s accordion, I realized where her musical ability had come from.”
“Did your mom look like Ellie?”
“I’ve found some old pictures of Ellie and Harold, but I can’t say that there’s any real big family resemblance. But I can see that genetics are definitely at play. My mom was also an artist.”
“Then there’s the breast cancer link,” Maria said. “You’re going to have to stay on top of that.”
“I have been,” Amy admitted. “But after learning about Ellie, I’ll be even more careful now.”
“Ellie told me that she found a lump in her breast in the late fifties, when Barbara was about sixteen years old. Ellie was afraid that she would die, but she didn’t want her daughter to know how serious things were, so she tried to stay upbeat. She also kept a journal and a photo album for Barbara to remember her by.”
“I didn’t find those,” Amy said. “Maybe she gave them to Barbara.”
“Maybe. But something tells me the two of them weren’t that close.”
“That’s surprising. From what I’ve found so far, Ellie adored her daughter. She saw her as a gift, a part of her and Harold.”
“The teen years can be difficult,” Maria said, thinking how Danny’s attitude had been changing. And he still had a couple of years to go.
Again, they took a drink of tea, savored the taste while they pondered the past. Or, in Maria’s case, the present.
“But Ellie pulled through,” Amy said. “My mom wasn’t that lucky.”
“It’s hard to know why some people make it and others don’t. Ellie said that her entire church had been praying for her, and she believed that’s why she beat the odds. She swore it was a miracle, that God had healed her.”
“I’ve noticed that she has two Bibles,” Amy said. “One upstairs on her nightstand and the other in the living room. And then she has a few plaques and wall hangings that reflect her faith.”
“She lived it, too. Whenever I fo
und myself struggling with an issue, she’d offer words of wisdom and prayer.”
“Was Harold spiritual?” Amy asked.
“She never mentioned anything. But her second husband certainly wasn’t.”
“What makes you say that?”
“From what I understand, he never understood her church involvement.”
“Is that what led to them breaking up?”
“I’m sure it created some strain on the marriage. But he was an alcoholic, and when he drank, he sometimes implied that she was only half a woman.”
“That’s terrible,” Amy said, her expression contorting with both sympathy and disgust. “I’m glad she divorced him.”
“Me, too.” Maria took a drink of tea. “He didn’t deserve her.”
Again, they grew silent, absorbed with their own thoughts.
Finally, Amy said, “It breaks my heart to think that anyone would hurt Ellie like that, that they’d think of her as anything other than a talented woman with vibrant hopes and dreams.”
Maria nodded as she thought about her old friend, the stooped and gray-haired lady whose eyes were glazed over most of the time, whose mind was locked away from those who loved and cared for her.
It was too bad that Amy hadn’t been able to meet her a year or so ago, when she might have welcomed her into her heart and her home.
And for that reason, Maria no longer questioned Amy’s motives for leasing the Rucker house. If she had been Amy, she might have done the same thing.
Saturday morning, Amy arrived at Ellie’s house just before nine o’clock. She’d volunteered to sit with Captain and Ellie while Maria took Danny to the baseball fields at the park, but not until nine-thirty. So in the meantime, she planned to get some work done in the house. She hadn’t been to Sugar Plum Lane since Wednesday, thanks to a hair appointment on Thursday and a lunch date at the playground with Rachel and Steph on Friday.