“Oh, Mary. I don’t want your money. I never wanted your money. I hope you know that.”
I reached out and patted Rachel’s hand. “I know you don’t want my money, but nevertheless it will be yours and Piper’s to share after I’m gone. There is one thing I’d like you to do, however.”
“Of course, anything.”
“When you’re better I want you to finish college. You’re too close to that degree to quit now. And if you decide to go on, you’ll certainly have money to do that as well.”
Rachel leaped out of her chair and hugged me.
Chapter 43
Rachel
Later that day when Mary went to the NICU, I asked Piper if she could take a break from playing with her dolls to chat.
She snuggled beside me on the couch. “You like living here, right?”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“And you love Mary, right?”
“She nodded again.”
“Well, Mary would like to adopt us. She wants to be our stepmother.”
“Like in Cinderella?”
“But not a mean stepmother like in Cinderella. Mary would never be mean. Mary has always wanted children. She and her husband, who died, never had any. She’d like to adopt you and me, which means we would become her daughters. I told her I’d discuss it with you.”
Piper looked at me with her bright periwinkle eyes. “So we’d live here with Mary forever?”
“Yes, or until you’re all grown up and finished college and decide to live someplace else.”
“And you’d live here, too?”
“Yep, we’d keep the bedrooms we have now, right beside each other.”
“Then okay.” She bit her lip like she was thinking about something she wanted to ask. “Rachel, do I have a daddy? Jacy has a daddy. She said everyone has a daddy. Do I?”
I didn’t want to lie to Piper but I didn’t exactly want to tell her the truth. “Jacy’s right, Pipe. Everyone has a daddy, but not all daddies are good daddies. Some are like Cinderella’s stepmother and shouldn’t be daddies at all.”
“I don’t want a daddy if he’s like Cinderella’s stepmother.”
“I agree, Piper. That’s why letting Mary adopt us is a good idea. She’s like the fairy godmother that sprinkles her magic and makes us special.”
By the time Mary came home, Piper was bouncing off the wall with excitement. When the back door opened, Piper flew into Mary and she almost dropped the bags she was carrying. She set them down on the counter and reached down to hug Piper. “What’s all this about?”
I smiled. “I told her you wanted to adopt us and, as you can see, she’s as excited as I am to become a McAlaster.”
Tears streamed down Mary’s cheeks and she waved for me to come over. She bent down and picked up Piper and we hugged. “You girls have brought me more happiness than I ever thought possible. Thank you both for giving me the honor of being your mother.”
That night, we celebrated the family we’d become and I went to bed knowing that, whatever happened to me, Piper would be loved and wanted and given the best life had to offer.
I’d like to say the following weeks were easy. They weren’t. I went through hell and back. There were times when I was so sick I thought I’d rather die. I’d always start to feel better toward the end of a break in chemo, but then I’d feel like crap again the moment the next cycle began.
I hated looking at myself in the mirror. I was pale, almost ghastly white, with dark circles under my eyes. My ribs protruded from my stomach. Mary made me drink protein shakes every day because I couldn’t eat. Everything had a metallic taste to it.
I was sitting in my oncologist’s office when he walked in. “I have the results of your PET scan.” He held up a folder and sat down at his desk. “The treatment is working, Rachel. I want to do four more cycles and then we’ll probably do radiation. I’d like to give it another kick in the ass!”
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until he told me the treatment was working. Then I breathed out so hard my chest hurt. Mary, who was holding my hand, squeezed it tight. “That the best news we’ve heard in a long time,” I said.
That afternoon, I decided to write in the journal Mary had given me before I started chemo. She thought writing down my thoughts and feelings might help me cope. I’d stuck it in my drawer and forgot about it. But suddenly it became important for me to put my thoughts into words. Hopefully, fifty years from now I’d look back on what I’d written and it’d help me remember, the bad and the good, the dark and the light.
I thought about the eternal light lamp hanging in the sanctuary before the altar in Mary’s church. She’d taken us there after the adoption had been finalized. Piper and I had never been baptized so Mary asked the minister to do it in a private ceremony.
Standing in the front of the church, Piper had pointed to the ceiling. “What’s that red thing hanging down?”
“That’s an eternal flame light,” the minister explained. “It’s a reminder that God is always present.”
I’ve never been a religious person. It’s not that I didn’t believe in God, I did. It’s just that neither Mom nor my foster parents ever took me to church. I’d never attended Sunday school or sang in the choir or participated in youth fellowship. But that day I started to pray. When I feel alone and tired of battling my cancer, I remember that light hanging by chains from the tall ceiling. And I remember that I am not alone.
I opened the journal and began to write.
October 30, 2015
So much has happened so quickly. I feel as if I’ve been on a wild roller coaster ride the past six months. Hairpin turns, sharp banks, steep drops and endless loops at dizzying speeds.
The PET scan showed the chemo is working. YEAH! I’ve been thinking (I’ve had a lot of time to do that lately) and I can’t get something out of my mind. I think I know what I what to be when I grow up.
Being sick has made me see things differently. I value life more. I cherish the small moments that would normally have passed by without me giving them a thought. Reading to Piper. Helping her with a craft. Teaching her how to tie her shoe or learn her spelling words. And I’m grateful for those small moments. And, well, what’s been on my mind is how all of it has made me feel needed and wanted. And maybe I was supposed to get sick. Maybe all of this happened for a reason. Sounds stupid, I know. But what if it’s true?
Mary once told me that nothing is impossible. That if we want something badly enough and work hard we can make it happen. The skeptical twenty-two-year-old me says, “Yeah, right.” But the eight-year-old me who still believes in rainbow rivers and lollipop trees wants to believe nothing is impossible. There is always hope and its flame will never go out unless I let it.
Rachel
I’d just closed my journal when Piper flew through my door swinging a big yellow bag.
“Look what I got!” She jumped up on my bed. “A Halloween costume. Guess what I’m going to be?”
It wasn’t hard to guess, but I decided to play dumb. “A dragon?”
“No!”
“A pirate?”
Piper sighed. “No.”
“I know, I know. A witch with a big tall black hat.”
Piper’s shoulders sank. “Do you want me to tell you?”
I nodded. “I can’t guess.”
“A princess!” She pulled the blue Cinderella dress out of the bag. “And Mommy bought me a tiara and a purse and shoes to match.”
I coughed. “You mean Mary?”
“No, Mommy. Mary’s mommy now, don’t you know?”
I did know and when I glanced up at the door, I saw Mary watching in the doorway, her hand touching her heart. She knew, too.
Piper wore her Cinderella costume to school the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.
“Piper,” Mary finally said after a few days. “Why don’t you leave your Cinderella costume at home today? I’d like to wash it.”
; Piper bit her lip. By the look on her face you’d have thought someone had just taken away her best friend.
“Mary’s right, Pipe. It’s dirty. It should be washed.”
“But as soon as I get home I can put it back on, right?”
Mary nodded. “Would you like to see Cinderella’s castle next summer?”
Piper’s eyes bugged out.
My eyes bugged out.
“I thought you girls might like to go to Disney World. By next summer, Rachel’s treatments will be over and we can go on our first family trip.”
I’m not sure who was happier, me or Piper. I’d never been on a plane before and the thought of going somewhere as magical as Disney World nearly made me faint.
My phone rang. “It’s Claire.”
“Come, Piper,” Mary said. “Let’s get your homework out of the way.”
“What’s up, Claire? You sound like you’ve been crying.”
Her voice cracked. “It’s Harry. I broke up with him.”
I puffed up my bed pillow and lay back on it. “Why? I thought he was the one.”
“I thought so, too.”
“So what happened?”
“He cheated. I found a slip of paper in his jeans pocket with a number on it. So I called and a woman answered. I hung up and confronted him. He admitted he met her on the job and they went out for drinks. The rest is history, as they say.”
I sat up. “Look, Claire. You’re better off. No man is better than some man, especially a cheater. If he cheated once he’d probably do it again.”
“I know, I know. It’s just that it hurts so much. I really loved Harry. I thought he was my knight in shining armor. Turned out his armor was full of rust.”
I rubbed my bald head. “Your knight is still out there, Claire.”
“Jesus, Rachel,” Claire said. “I’m so freakin’ messed up. Here I am babbling on about my stupid pathetic boyfriend and it’s nothing like the problem you’re facing. I’m such a shitty friend.”
“It’s okay. Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear your problems.”
“It’s not okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”
“Listen, Claire. Stop it. The world doesn’t stop turning just because I got sick. I like listening to your drama. It gives me something else to focus on. Everyone’s been focused on my drama and I’m sick of it. Sick of the treatments, sick of being tired, sick of being sick. So please, tell me about your dumb ass boyfriend. It makes me feel normal.”
Then I started to cry and both Claire and I became bumbling messes of hot tears.
All of a sudden Claire laughed. “Look at us. Blubbering about all the bad shit in our lives. But guess what? We have each other. And you have Piper and Mary. God, I still can’t believe how Mary came into your life. I mean, what are the chances of something that cool happening to me? You clean her house and end up being her daughter.”
I laughed through my tears. “I know. Sometimes, I lie in bed at night and pinch myself. I can’t believe I live in this big old house with Mary and Piper. I can’t believe that all the stuff I went through my entire life has led to this moment. And I want to hold on to it forever. I do. And what scares me most is that I won’t be able to. That someone will come along and snatch it from me, take it from me like it’s a piece of candy I hadn’t been good enough to get in the first place.”
Claire sniffed. “Is that what you thought, Rachel? That you were never good enough to have a mom? Because if that’s what you thought growing up, you were dead wrong. Your mom wasn’t worthy of having you as a daughter. You deserved better than what you got. But you know what I’ve come to understand, coming from a dysfunctional family myself?”
I managed to wretch out “What?”
“I’ve learned that our parents, mine and yours, probably did the best they could.”
“Well,” I said, “It wasn’t good enough.”
Later that night, after the house had turned quiet and darkness was everywhere, I turned on my nightlight, opened my nightstand drawer and took out the letter from Mom. I turned it over in my hand, wondering what she could have written that was so important to put my name on the envelope and seal it with tape. There was only one way to know. Open it, Rachel, and find out.
I opened the letter and read.
My dearest Rachel, if you find this letter it probably means I’ve died. There are so many things I’ve wanted to say to you, I just never found the courage or the right words. I’m not sure I can find the right words now, but I have to try. Not only for your sake, but also for mine.
I never wanted to hurt you. I wish I could go back and change everything bad that ever happened to you. I wish I could go back and be the mom you needed me to be, the mom you deserved. But too many years have passed for that.
When I learned I was pregnant with Piper, I was afraid. Afraid I’d be the kind of mother I’d been to you. I vowed to do better and I hope I’ve succeeded. It gives me some peace knowing I was capable of being the kind of mother a child deserves, and yet it tears me apart that I could not be that for you.
There are some things in life that define you, make you the person that you are. I hope that your childhood does not define you in so much as you feel worthless and unloved. I did love you, Rachel. I’ve always loved you. I never stopped. I was ill, more ill than anyone knew. I could give you a thousand excuses, but I won’t give you any. Why? Because it doesn’t matter how I came to be what I was. What matters is that you know you were always loved and, although it wasn’t nearly good enough, I gave you as much of me as I could. I found the rest too late for us.
I hope someday you will get to know Piper. She reminds me of you in so many ways. Not a day goes by that I am not tortured by the look on your face when the police took you away from a staggering drunk who was too ill to see the mess of a life she’d created.
Be well, my sweet girl. And always remember that I loved you and that I’m sorry I wasn’t the mother you needed me to be or the one you deserved.
Maybe someday you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. I know I’m asking a lot. But maybe, just maybe, that day will come. Love, Mom
My hands shook as I read the letter. By the time I’d finished it tears had pickled my cheeks. My mom loved me. She loved me. She really did. Claire was right. She did the best she could. And I was right – it wasn’t good enough. But I began to see that blame led nowhere I needed to go. I wanted my heart to be free. I’d spent so many years with it chained and weighted down by a past I could never escape. And suddenly I realized I didn’t have to escape the past. I could rise above it and become a better me. There was only one thing left to do.
I forgive you, Mom. I forgive you.
Chapter 44
Mary
The weeks seemed to slip by, one melting into the next. After Jacy told Piper her family had visited a Christmas tree farm and cut down their own evergreen, Piper wanted to do that. There was no way I was up for traipsing all over the hillside looking for the perfect tree, so I called Nick and asked him to take her.
Rachel slept a lot during the day but wanted to help decorate the tree. I’d invited Claire and Nick to dinner and I figured we’d decorate it afterward.
I made lasagna. It was something I could make ahead of time and stick in the oven. Claire insisted on bringing the salad and Nick wanted to bring bread. Piper and I baked some Christmas cookies. After dinner, I served the cookies and tea in the living room, where the tree stood in the corner.
Piper pulled on Nick’s sweater. “Will you please hold me up so I can put the angel on the tree?”
Nick picked up Piper and lifted her high so she could place the angel she’d made in school out of red and white construction paper.
“That’s the most beautiful angel topper I’ve ever seen,” I said. I’d hidden the Lennox tree topper that normally adorned my tree. The beautiful angel dressed in a luxurious champagne gown trimmed in fur with poinsettia accents, sequins and ribbons was no
match for Piper’s construction paper angel.
I handed Rachel a small wrapped box.
“What’s this?” she asked.
Piper held up a box. “I got one, too!”
I watched as Piper and Rachel opened the box and took out beautiful crystal ornaments.
Daughter, I made a wish and you came true
“They’re beautiful, Mary,” Rachel said.
Piper ran to put hers on the tree. Rachel stood and walked over and hugged me.
“They’re different shapes so you’ll be able to tell them apart,” I explained.
Rachel pointed to the piano. “Why don’t you play for us, Mary?”
“I’m not that good.”
“I know better. I hear you play when you’re teaching Piper.”
“I’d love to hear you play, Mary,” Claire said. “Why don’t you play a Christmas carol and we’ll sing?”
Nick held up his hands. “You definitely don’t want to hear me sing. I sound like a sick reindeer.”
“Okay, okay.” I walked over to the piano and sat down. I started to play “Away in a Manger.” Everyone sang and Nick hummed. And it was perfect.
Chapter 45
Rachel
I sat on the couch and was surrounded by warmth, and it wasn’t coming from the fireplace. My heart felt light, as if it would float away if it could. I thought about where I’d been a year before. Living in a small apartment. Didn’t even have a tree. And the only present I received that year was from Claire. Neither of us had much money so we decided to only spend ten dollars on each other.
Both of us had the brilliant idea that we could buy more for less if we went to the dollar store. So that’s what we did. Turned out we’d bought each other some of the exact same things, including a white mug with “best friend” written on it and an apple-cinnamon candle that smelled better when it wasn’t burning.
A year ago, Piper and Mary weren’t a part of my life and I wasn’t sick. What will it be like a year from now? I wondered. They will all be here, but will I?
I tucked Piper in bed and listened as she said her prayers. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Piper asked.
Our Fragile Hearts Page 20