Daughters

by Florence Osmund

  Rachael was silent for several seconds. “Boy, am I in trouble.”

  “Why?”

  “‘Cause I have very few puzzle pieces, I don’t trust anyone, and my gut tells me Ben isn’t my father.”

  Marie concentrated on her driving while she mustered the right words. “Rachael…I’m not sure how much I can help you with this. My initial thought is if you’re having doubts about it, start with Ben. Just keep one thing in mind: he’s accepted you into his life as his daughter. That has to count for something whether he is or isn’t. Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t pursue it, but just be sensitive to his position. I’ve had enough conversations with him to know he loves you, and he would do anything for you.”

  “I can’t say I love him,” Rachael said with a sad tone. “I guess that makes me a pretty bad person.”

  “No. Not at all. Some people need more time than others to develop those types of emotions. You were how old when you and your Mom moved in with him?”

  “Twelve and a half.”

  “Three years isn’t…”

  “But you said he loves me.”

  “That’s different. A parent’s love for a child is different.”

  “How so?”

  “A parent’s love is hard to explain. It’s almost a level beyond love, unconditional for one thing. You’ll find out some day.”

  “What does unconditional mean?”

  “It means you love someone no matter what else the other person says or does.”

  “Hmmm.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I could do that.”

  “Wait ‘til you have children. You’ll understand then.”

  “So do you think I should come right out and ask him?”

  “Maybe you could start by asking him about his original relationship with your mom, before you were born. How they met, how long they were together, why they split. Stuff like that. And then just let the conversation evolve from there. Just remember, it’s never good to go into a discussion with both guns drawn if you know what I mean. If you do, it will probably turn into a battle.” Marie glanced over at Rachael. “Make sense?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Here we are, kiddo. Let’s go in and take a load off.”

  “Marie?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re getting better with the lingo.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “And Marie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks.”

  Rachael and Marie spent the next morning preparing for Sunday dinner in honor of Karen’s birthday. It had taken Karen and Maurice a week of talking things through, but in the end, Karen forgave him for not telling her about his secret offspring.

  Rachael’s experience in the kitchen was pretty much limited to opening cans, something she had done often in order to survive when living with her mother, so Marie took time to teach her some cooking basics. They talked about a myriad of subjects while cutting up vegetables for the salad; peeling carrots, onions, and potatoes for the pork roast; trimming string beans; and cooking the orzo. While the meal simmered on top of the stove, they made an apple pie together.

  Karen and Maurice arrived at noon with two bottles of wine. Marie asked Rachael if she would bring some wine glasses to the living room for them. Her temporary sullen mood reminded Marie that Rachael had a difficult time with grown-ups’ drinking.

  Maurice turned toward Marie with a sympathetic look. “I have a teenage daughter, so...”

  A timer went off in the kitchen. Rachael jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

  Marie looked at Karen and shrugged her shoulders. “It’s going to be an interesting week,” she whispered.

  Rachael ate up being the center of attention while they ate. “I love your earrings, Rachael,” Karen offered. “I wish I could wear pierced earrings, but my ears get infected every time I try. Hey, I may have some earrings you may like.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Marie, can you two stop by while she’s here? I’ve got some really cute ones that would look good on her.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “How did you like the Phillips Hotel, Rachael?” Karen asked.

  “It was crazy. The bed was so squishy, I could hardly get out of it. And they gave you this big fluffy bathrobe for when you got out of the tub. And then room service was such a kick.”

  “Where did you grow up?” Maurice asked.

  “Chicago.”

  “What side?”

  “South.”

  “White Sox fan, then?”

  “All the way.”

  “Ever see a live game?”

  “Oh yeah. My mom dated this one guy for a while, Mike something or other. He brought us to games all the time.”

  “So what do you think of Richards?”

  “He’s alright, I guess.”

  “And your favorite player?”

  “Number 19. How’d you like that slider he started throwing? Was that cool or what?”

  Marie looked on in awe as the two of them discussed baseball.

  “When’s the last time you went to a game?” Maurice asked.

  “Years. I tried to get Dad to take me, but he’s not really into baseball.”

  “I love the sport. I grew up on the south side of Chicago myself, so I’ll always be a White Sox fan.”

  “So who do you root for now? There aren’t any teams in Kansas.”

  “White Sox, of course. They’re the closest team to here. Well, and the Cubs.”

  Rachael made a face. “Boo, Cubs.”

  “So you learned all this about baseball from your Mom’s boyfriend?” Marie asked.

  “Yeah. That’s about all he was good for.”

  “Rachael.”

  “Well, it’s true.”

  “So what grade are you in, Rachael?” Maurice asked.

  “Eighth.” When he didn’t say anything more, Rachael added, “I was put back a year. Missed too much school.”

  “Dessert, anyone?” Marie asked.

  Rachael and Marie started with a tour of the state capitol building in Topeka on Monday, including the forty-five-minute walk up 296 stairs to the top of the dome. They visited Reinisch Rose Garden and Old Prairie Town where the original home of Mary Jane Ward, the so-called mother of Topeka, had recently been opened up to tourists.

  “This area was occupied totally by Indians at one time,” Marie explained to Rachael. “Do you remember reading about the Oregon Trail in school?”

  “Not really.”

  “It crossed over the Kansas River right here in Topeka.”

  Having sensed Rachael had had enough history for one day, Marie planned a lighter agenda for Tuesday. They had breakfast at Lulu’s with Karen and then walked to Karen’s shop, where Marie let Rachael pick out a new outfit. Then they went to Marie’s studio, where Rachael chatted with Marie’s staff while Marie took care of some business in her office. They ate lunch at a restaurant on the river and strolled down the bank afterward toward a craft show Marie had read about. Marie bought Rachael a silver bangle bracelet she had admired at one of the booths.

  “This is so weird.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My mom used to say all the time, ‘That’s how the other half lives.’ I guess this is how the other half lives.” She touched her new bracelet. “We walk through a craft show. All I did was look at this bracelet, and you buy it for me. That’s crazy.”

  “You deserve to have nice things.”

  “And I didn’t when I was with my mom?”

  The statement stopped Marie for a moment. “No, you deserved it then too.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  “I know, Rachael. I know.”

  They headed toward Karen’s. She had invited them over for some of her famous fried chicken, which was a hit with Rachael. “Best I’ve ever had,” she told her. After dinner, Karen showed Rachael her collection of earrings as promised, and Rachael picked out three pairs she liked. Without any coaching, s
he steered away from the three-inch hoops and the ones shaped like bananas, pleasing Marie.

  Rachael wandered over to Karen’s handcuff collection. “Hey, cast an eyeball on these.”

  “Go ahead. Make fun of them,” Karen invited.

  “Make fun of them? I don’t even know what they are.” She picked up a pair of nineteenth-century leg irons. “Like these.”

  “They were used on slaves, Rachael,” Marie explained. “Leg irons to transport them from one place to another.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I wouldn’t kid about a thing like that, my dear.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” She set them back down and picked up a key. “What does this fit?”

  “Let me see it.” Karen examined the key. “That fits an Adams cuff.”

  “And this one?”

  “Cummings.”

  “What’s the story on these?”

  Karen shrugged and gave Rachael a befuddled smile.

  Rachael raised her brows and smirked. “Okay. It’s all cool.”

  Marie and Rachael sat on Marie’s sun porch that evening. Marie shared with Rachael some of the profound and not so profound talks she had had with Karen on the porch.

  “Marie, don’t you think Karen’s handcuff collection is a little weird?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Me too.” She looked like a younger version of Karen the way she curled her legs up under her in the chair. She stared out the window. “Do you think you’ll stay here forever?”

  “I really like it here. so I don’t see myself leaving any time soon. But…you never know.” Rachael’s face registered disappointment. “Why do you ask?”

  Rachael shrugged. “No reason. Just curious.”

  Rachael was excited when Marie told her they would spend Wednesday afternoon on horseback. Marie rode J.B. They gave Rachael a gentle, deep brown mare named Brownie. Marie led the way toward her favorite riding path. When they reached the top of the rise, halfway up the trail, Marie stopped so they could take in the landscape.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Sure.” Rachael appeared to be in some other world.

  “You okay?” Marie asked.

  Rachael shot Marie a disconcerted look. “Yep.”

  “You looked a million miles away.”

  “I was just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Having to go home and then back to school.”

  “I thought you liked school.”

  “Oh, I do. But this break has been such a kick. I don’t want it to end.”

  “All good things must come to an end. I’m not sure who said that, but it’s true.”

  “What a drag.”

  “I left tomorrow open. What would you like to do? Your choice.”

  “I want to call Dad.”

  “Aw, you miss him, huh?”

  “No. I want to tell him I want to come live here with you.” Rachael gave her horse a tap with her heels to get him moving faster, ahead of Marie and her horse.

  Marie kept a safe distance behind Rachael and Brownie, grateful for the time she had to process what Rachael had said at the top of the rise. Thoughts rushed in and out of her head like a yo-yo. Come live with me? What is she thinking? Maybe she was just being funny. But it wasn’t funny. Good heavens, what have I done?

  Rachael had reached Marie’s car by the time Marie and J.B. arrived at the stable. From behind, she watched Rachael swipe the back of her hand across her face. Was she crying? Before she approached her car, Marie spent a couple of minutes talking to the ranch hand who was preparing to rub down the horses.

  “You okay, Rachael?”

  Without turning around, Rachael responded in a soft voice, “Yeah.”

  Marie sat behind the steering wheel of her car and stared straight ahead without starting the engine. She glanced over at Rachael. “Pizza tonight okay?” Rachael nodded without turning her head. “We can talk after dinner.”

  Marie kept dinner conversation to idle chatter. When they got home, they sat on Marie’s porch to begin what was likely going to be a challenging conversation. Marie sipped a glass of wine while a gentle southern breeze wafted through the open windows, bringing in the sweet smell of early lilacs. Rachael sipped on ginger ale.

  “Okay. Let’s start with what prompted you to say that back on the rise.”

  Rachael heaved a sigh, lowered her head, and shrugged her shoulders.

  “You miss your mom, don’t you?”

  More shoulder shrugging.

  “And you’re not sure if your dad is your dad? And we’ve had so much fun this week.”

  Rachael tried to hold back the blissful smile, but couldn’t.

  “Rachael…” She gazed into Rachael’s eyes, into the eyes of a confused, scared child who deserved better. “It’s just not that easy.” She scrambled to put her thoughts together. “Look at all the factors involved, not the least of which is your father. Whether he’s your father or not, you can’t just up and leave him.”

  She made a face. “Why not? My mother ditched me enough.”

  “And how did that make you feel?”

  “Lousy.”

  “Okay. So what’s the golden rule?”

  The words dragged out of her mouth. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

  “Those aren’t bad words to live by, by the way.”

  “I know.”

  “And speaking of your mother, you can’t leave her out of the equation.”

  Rachael crossed her arms. “Why not?”

  “Because she’s your mother.”

  “So? She’s not acting like one.”

  “I know. But you can’t choose who your parents are, honey. She’s still your mother, and she will be forever.”

  “Well, that stinks. What if she never comes back?”

  “She’ll still be your mother.”

  “I hate her.”

  “Rachael, what she did to you was unconscionable. You just don’t abandon your children. But I suspect there’s a whole lot going on inside her we don’t know, and I’ll bet any amount of money, she wishes she was in a better position to take care of you.”

  Rachael dug in her heels. “I doubt it. So what am I supposed to do, wait for her until I’m eighteen and I’m legally on my own? Fat chance.”

  “I know you’re struggling with this, and that’s okay. We all struggle with things from time to time.”

  “I know.” She turned her head away from Marie and stared out the window. “But what if it’s all the time?”

  Marie let out a sigh. “And what about school?”

  “They have schools here, don’t they?”

  “Yes, of course they do.” Rachael wasn’t making this very easy. She sat next to her on the wicker love seat. “Look at the moon.” They both stared into the murky night sky for several seconds. “I’ve never seen it quite so full and bright.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I know.”

  “So?”

  “Rachael, have you given any thought to how it would affect my life if you were to come live with me?”

  “Knew that was coming.”

  “Well?”

  She looked at Marie with wide-eyed innocence. “I wouldn’t be much trouble.”

  Marie gave her a dubious look.

  “I said not much.” Rachael smiled.

  “That’s not what concerns me.”

  “What concerns you, then?”

  Marie couldn’t think of any convincing reasons it wouldn’t work out. “For starters, my apartment is fairly small, and I use the spare bedroom for other things.”

  “Looks like just a spare bedroom to me.”

  “My sewing machine is in there.”

  “When was the last time you used it?”

  “And what about my social life? I’ve been used to coming and going whenever I please and not worrying about another person in the house.”

&
nbsp; “You wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

  “Maybe worry wasn’t the right word. I would be concerned about you.”

  “Will you think about it?”

  How could I not think about it? “I’ll tell you what. You have that talk with your father, the one about him being your biological dad, and then we’ll talk again after that. Fair enough?”

  “I guess so. But I wish you could be there with me when I talk to him. I’m sure he’ll flip his wig.”

  “Look, Rachael, you’ve decided to take on some grown-up issues on your own, so you’re going to have to face them as a grown-up.”

  “No sweat.”

  “So what do you want to do tomorrow?”

  “Can we go see Singin’ in the Rain?”

  “Good choice.”

  “And then afterward, can we visit with the people in the big house?”

  “I suppose so. Why?”

  “Just to make sure we get along for when I live here.”

  Marie shook her head and couldn’t hold back a smile. “You little…”

  They hummed songs from Singin’ in the Rain all the way home. “You Are My Lucky Star” was Marie’s favorite. Rachael liked “Make ‘Em Laugh.”

  “They were all so happy.”

  Marie gave her a heartfelt look. “Like you want to be?”

  “I just want to fit in somewhere. The happy can come later.”

  Pretty profound for a fifteen-year-old. Marie couldn’t get Rachael’s words out of her head as she lay in bed that evening. “I just want to fit in somewhere.” She saw a lot of herself in Rachael. Not only her wanting to fit in, but other things too. Like her need for family, her determination, and her self-control. And perhaps most importantly, her need to establish a true identity for herself.

  A true identity was something Marie still hadn’t determined for herself, at least not to the point of where she saw herself in a few years. When she was married to Richard, before he’d gotten in so deep with the Chicago underworld and before she knew Jonathan was her father, she had a well-thought-out plan in her head of where she wanted to be three years out, five years out. But things had changed.

  Lying in bed that night, she thought about the prospect of having Rachael come live with her. She could picture them sharing the same space, chores, laughs, insights, and love. She had plenty of love in her heart for that child, and while she didn’t have any experience, she thought she had a lot to offer to her in the way of guidance. Rachael needed a strong female role model, and Marie thought she could be the right person for the job.