Keeping Faith

by Janice Macdonald

  “You’ve got plenty of joy.” Hannah pulled on the red flannel shirt she’d worn the evening before over the knee-length T-shirt she slept in and stuffed her feet into a pair of terry-cloth mules. “Damn it, Rose,” she protested as she followed her aunt out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “I promised myself I was going to stop this sort of thing.”

  “Instant or the real thing,” Rose called from the pantry. “Ah hell, let’s make it easy. Instant’s okay when it’s fixed up.” She brought a box of Ore-Ida into the kitchen, held it at arm’s length while she read the directions. “Stop what sort of thing?”

  “This.” Hannah pulled out a chair and sat down. “Do I want to be in the kitchen at midnight making stupid mashed potatoes? No, I want to be sleeping. So why am I here? Because you asked me and I couldn’t say no. I’m like that with everyone and I’m sick of it.”

  “You have a gift, Hannah,” Rose said, still squinting at the box. “You are kindhearted, loving and a good listener. The world would be a better place if there were more people like you.” She took a gallon of milk from the refrigerator. “You think if I double the recipe, it’ll be enough?”

  “You’re the only one eating,” Hannah said. “So Mom’s upset about Deb?” she prompted.

  “Not as upset as she is about you and Liam.”

  “Maybe it’s time she realized Deb and I are both grown women.”

  “She will always be your mother, Hannah,” Rose said. “And she will always worry. It’s what mothers do. God knows, I’ve tried to get her to do things with me, like that Single Sailors thing last week. She might have met a nice man with a boat, but it’s always you girls…”

  Wait until she hears Liam and I are taking Faith to the zoo tomorrow, Hannah thought. Her legs, bare below the nightshirt, were cold, and she scooted them up onto the chair, pulled the shirt down to cover them and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Liam and I are taking Faith to the zoo tomorrow,” she told Rose. Later, she knew, she would ask herself what misguided impulse had prompted this disclosure. The best answer she could come up with right now was that she needed to talk about it to someone. Even Rose. She saw the dismay on her aunt’s face, watched as Rose set down the measuring cup into which she’d been pouring potato flakes.

  “No.” Rose shook her head sadly at her niece. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “I’m serious.”

  Rose clutched Hannah’s arm. “Don’t do it, Hannah. Please. For your mother, for yourself, for all of us. Don’t do it.”

  Hannah rested her chin on her knees. “But I want to.”

  “But I want to,” Rose mimicked in a whiney, childlike voice. She picked up the cup again, measured out the potatoes and put them in a bowl. “That’s a very selfish attitude.”

  “How is it selfish?”

  “For one thing, it’s going to worry your mother to death.”

  “So that’s why I shouldn’t do it?”

  “No, not just that…”

  “What then?” She knew she should probably stop. It wasn’t as though Rose was going to come up with some compelling reason that would make her change her mind, but something perverse was making her press on. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go to the zoo with Liam and our daughter.”

  “Because…” Rose microwaved a cup of milk, poured it over the potato flakes, then returned to the refrigerator. “What has fewer calories?” she called over her shoulder. “Butter or sour cream? Ah, the hell with it.” She brought a tub of sour cream and a stick of butter over to the table and looked at Hannah. “Because none of us want to see you waste yourself with Liam. Sweetie, we’d all feel so much better if you and Allan—”

  “Just got married, moved into his house on Riva Alto Canal and had a couple more kids?”

  Rose grinned. “You are such a smart girl. Look, take it from your old aunt who’s been married to two losers, there’s nothing romantic about poverty. When the va-va-va-voom wears off with Liam, Allan’s going to look a whole lot better. I’m telling you, he wouldn’t hear of any of us paying anything toward dinner tonight. Can you believe that? And Kelly’s isn’t cheap. Just the broiled chicken is $16.95, which I think is ridiculous. A piece of chicken, Hannah. How much can—”

  “I’m not marrying Allan, Rose.”

  “Well it’s early yet. Allan’s not going to rush you. ‘I know it happened kind of quickly,’ he told us, ‘but I knew from the moment I first saw her.’”

  “He knows I don’t want to get married. He’s a nice guy, but I’m not in love with him.”

  “Taste these.” Rose shoved the bowl of potatoes at Hannah. “Tell me what they’re missing.”

  “Rose…” Hannah pushed the bowl away. “I don’t feel like tasting potatoes. I came down to talk about Mom.”

  “We’re talking about her.” Rose held a spoonful of mashed potatoes out to Hannah. “Come on, one little taste won’t kill you. Butter? Salt?”

  “Damn it.” Hannah tasted the potatoes. “Butter.”

  “I thought so.” Rose sliced a stick of butter in two and stirred one half into the potatoes. “Hannah, your mother has always relied on you. You’re the dependable one, she’s always said that. Well, except for the Liam Lapse. Deb was the one who caused her problems, but now Liam’s back and, honest to God, Hannah, I see her drinking more now and I think he’s the reason why.”

  Feeling beleaguered suddenly, Hannah stuck her elbows on the table, held her head in her hands. The whole thing with Liam was complicated enough without Margaret playing a central role in the drama. “What about Deb? Mom’s always crying to me about how she doesn’t understand why she and Deb can’t get along. And Deb’s pregnant, for God’s sake. Why can’t Mom just give me a break and focus on Deb for a while.”

  “Hannah.” Rose looked at her niece. “Your mom isn’t worried about Deb, because she knows Dennis isn’t taking Deb and the baby and running off to Ireland where she’ll never see them again.” She pulled up a chair beside Hannah, sat down and took her hand. “Worry over Liam killed your father.” Rose stared into her eyes. “If you’re not careful, your mother’s going to drink herself into an early grave for the same reason.”

  “BUT I DON’T WANT TO GET UP,” Faith grumbled when Hannah woke her at eight-thirty the next morning. “I want to sleep some more.”

  “Okay.” Hannah sat on the edge of Faith’s bed. “Here’s the deal. You can keep on sleeping, or you can go and see the koalas at the zoo.”

  “The koalas?” Faith rubbed her eyes. “Like the ones on TV?”

  “Yep.”

  Faith grinned widely. “I’ve been wanting to see the koalas forever. Now I get to. I’m sooo happy.”

  “Well, good.” Hannah selected a yellow sundress from Faith’s closet, dug in the dresser drawer for a pair of matching socks. “When you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  Which, she reflected, as she coaxed Faith into her clothes, was exactly the sort of thing Margaret would say to her. Not fair to put the responsibility for your own happiness on someone else’s shoulders. God, her neck was stiff with tension and the top of her head prickled. After the talk with Rose, she’d lain awake most of the night. Around four in the morning she decided that she couldn’t assume all the responsibility for her mother’s drinking. She was going to go to the zoo, because that’s what she wanted to do.

  Tonight she would talk to Margaret. Right now she wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation.

  A sweater for herself and a change of clothes for Faith bundled under her arm, she tiptoed down the stairs. The smell of coffee from the kitchen told her Margaret was already up and probably gearing for battle.

  “Is Auntie Rose coming to see the koalas?” Faith asked.

  “No, sweetie.” As they made their way down the stairs, Hannah eased Faith’s arms into a white cotton sweater. “Just you and me and…a friend of Mommy’s.”

  “Jen?”

  “No, a friend you haven’t met.” God, she couldn’t look at her daughter’s f
ace. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “We’ll talk about it in a little while, okay? Right now, I want you to go eat some cereal. I have to get dressed and make a quick phone call.” She started back up the stairs. Please don’t tell Grandma where you’re going, she thought. I’m not in the mood for a fight.

  Deb was not happy to be wakened by the telephone when Hannah reached her at a girlfriend’s house. “Jeez, Hannah it’s like the middle of the night.”

  “It’s eight-forty-five in the morning. I’ve been up for two hours.”

  “Well, good for you,” Deb said. “Some of us like to sleep in.”

  “So what’s the deal with you and Mom?” Hannah asked her sister. “Rose said you guys had an argument and now you’re not moving back home. And what’s this about the baby?”

  “Jeez.” Debra sighed noisily. “Of course I’m keeping it. Mom said something that made me mad, I can’t even remember what it was now. Probably something about Dennis, and she was talking to me like I was a little kid and it pissed me off, so I told her I was rethinking the baby. Plus, she’d been going on and on about Liam, the whole doom-and-gloom thing and I was bored with listening to it.”

  Hannah stared at her reflection in the mirror and wondered if it was just the morning light that made her look as though she’d been up for three nights straight. “Do me a favor, Deb.” She shifted the phone to her other ear. “Don’t give Mom more stuff to obsess about, okay? I don’t think I can take it. Rose said Mom got really plastered last night because she was so upset about us.”

  “About you, Hannah,” Deb corrected. “Listen, can we talk about this later? How about I drop by around ten? Maybe we could go have breakfast.”

  “I won’t be here,” Hannah said. “Liam and I are taking Faith to the zoo.”

  “Liam! You’ve got to be kidding. Why?”

  Hannah took a deep breath. “Because I want to.”

  “And you’re telling me not to give Mom stuff to obsess about?”

  Five minutes later—Debra’s snort of disgust still ringing in her ears—Hannah walked into the kitchen to face her mother. Margaret’s nostrils pinched in cold fury as she glared at Hannah. Obviously either Rose or Faith had broken the news. After Faith finished her cereal and went upstairs to get her backpack, Margaret turned on Hannah.

  “Everything I’ve ever done for you and Debra, I’ve done because I love you and want what’s best for you. The two of you have always been my first priority. Always.” Her voice broke. “I can’t believe you’re throwing it all in my face.”

  “I’m not throwing anything in your face, Mom. This isn’t about you.” Hannah reached into the refrigerator and tried to harden herself to the appeal in her mother’s eyes. Suddenly the outing seemed more trouble than it was worth. She could take Faith to the zoo herself and avoid all the anguish. “This is a day at the zoo. Period.”

  Margaret snorted. “Day at the zoo! You might be fooling yourself, but you’re not fooling me. It’s that man screwing up your life again. Not to mention confusing your daughter.”

  “His daughter, too, and he has a name.” Hannah dropped a stack of paper napkins into a wicker picnic basket. “It’s Liam. And I wish you would just accept this, Mom, because all you’re doing is making it difficult for everyone.”

  “I’m making it difficult?” Margaret leaned her back against the counter. “I’m making it difficult because I’m concerned about my daughter and granddaughter? Why don’t you open your eyes, Hannah? It’s not going to stop with this, I’ll tell you that right now. You might as well just go and buy the damn tickets to Ireland.”

  Hannah looked at her mother, suddenly weary of the argument. “Mom, does it ever occur to you that all of this is my problem? Faith’s my daughter? Liam was my husband. Faith’s our daughter. I appreciate you’re concerned for us, but damn it, I have a right to lead my life without having to factor your reaction into everything I do.”

  “No.” Margaret shook her head. “You’re wrong, this isn’t just your problem. You and Faith have lived in this house from the day she came home from the hospital. I was right here, in this kitchen, watching when she took her first step. Who picked her up from her first day at kindergarten? Who took her to swimming lessons? I could go on and on.”

  “You did all those things because you wanted to do them, Mom. You begged me to let you pick her up from school. You think I wouldn’t rather have done it myself?”

  “Then you should have said something.”

  “I know that now. Remember yesterday when you told me to start paying attention to my own feelings? Well, that’s what I should have done. But I didn’t, because you were always telling me how much you loved doing all these things and I decided it wasn’t worth getting into an argument about it.” She shook her head. “But I’ve learned my lesson. I’m going to start doing what I want to do. And I want to go to San Diego with Liam and Faith.”

  “Liam.” Margaret said the name like a curse. “You might have forgotten the state you were in when you were married to him, but I haven’t.”

  “How could I forget when you and everyone else reminds me of it on a daily basis? God, I am so sick of hearing about it. So I made a mistake. Big deal. Deb’s made a few mistakes. Everybody makes mistakes in their lives.”

  “But they learn from them and move on. All you’re doing by seeing him again is compounding your mistake.”

  “Liam deserves a chance to spend some time with his daughter,” Hannah said. “It wasn’t his fault—”

  “You know what I’m sick of?” Margaret asked, her voice low and fierce. “I’m sick to death of hearing about poor Liam and his goddamned rights. Fine, do whatever you want, it’s your life. If you’re so besotted and foolish that you’ll agree to whatever this idiot wants, there’s not much I can do about it. I’ll tell you this though, Faith’s my granddaughter and if you think I’m going to let him steal her away, you’d better think again.”

  “Grandma!” Faith burst into the kitchen. “Look! I have five dollars and I’m going to buy you a present at the zoo.”

  “Oh, my goodness.” With a visible effort to compose her expression, Margaret got down on her knees, wrapped her arms around Faith’s waist and looked into her granddaughter’s eyes. “That is so sweet of you. But you know the nicest present you could possibly give me?”

  Faith smiled. “What?”

  “Just be my little darling girl,” she said, her voice breaking. “Grandma loves you very, very much. And you know what? When you come home tonight, Grandma will have a great big surprise for you.”

  HANNAH AND FAITH WERE WAITING outside the house when Liam pulled up in Miranda’s Mercedes. Faith, in a yellow dress, was hopping on one foot and circling her arms like a windmill. Hannah wore a green sundress and looked as though she might have been crying. As he got out of the car and walked around to where they were standing, Liam realized his heart was pounding.

  He smiled at Hannah, then squatted down so that he was eye level with his daughter. His daughter. Eyes exactly the same dark, almost-navy-blue as his own. Faith clutched her mother’s legs and peered warily at him. “You must be George,” he said.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Fred?”

  A glimmer of a smile suggested she was on to his joke. “Fred’s a boy’s name,” she said.

  “Ah, you’re right. Let me think a bit. I know. You’re Griselda.”

  She released her grip from Hannah’s leg. “My name is Faith.”

  “Faith. That was going to be my next guess. Well, good morning, Faith.” He held out his hand. “I’m Liam.”

  Her eyes briefly registered his hand, moved to his face. “Hi.”

  “Hi. Shall we shake?” Faith nodded slightly, and he took his daughter’s small hand in his own. “Nice to meet you, Faith,” he said.

  She rewarded him with a broader smile. “Nice to meet you, too,” she said.

  He felt a little thrill of victory, glanced up and met Hannah’s eyes. She was smil
ing, too. He looked back at Faith. “I don’t know about you, but it seems awfully early to be up and around. I haven’t even had breakfast. What about you?”

  “I had cereal.”

  “Cereal.” Liam pulled a face. “Are you all that keen on cereal, then?”

  Faith looked up at her mother.

  “He’s asking if you like cereal,” Hannah said.

  “Not the kind we have now,” Faith replied. “But Mommy said I had to eat it.”

  “And what kind is it you have now?” Liam asked.

  “The kind that gets all soggy when the milk goes on it.”

  “There’s nothing worse,” Liam said. “Tell me though, what are your thoughts on doughnuts?”

  “Doughnuts?” Faith grinned. “I love doughnuts, don’t I, Mommy?”

  “She’s a huge doughnut fan,” Hannah said.

  “Could you eat two, do you think?”

  “Three,” Faith said.

  “Three.” He gave her a skeptical look. “Ah, come on.”

  “I can. If they’re doughnut holes.”

  “Right then.” He held out his hand again. “If you’ll help me to my feet, I think we should go and find a place that sells doughnut holes.”

  They found a place as they headed south on Pacific Coast Highway toward San Diego. Faith had spotted a Dunkin’ Donuts, and Liam made a show of slamming on the brakes and zooming up to the shop as though they were on a mission of great importance. Hannah had shot him a reproving look, but now as they sat across from each other at a plastic table by the window, watching Faith drop quarters into a video game, Hannah seemed relaxed and happy enough as she sipped her double nonfat latte, or whatever complicated thing she’d ordered, and he felt he could breathe a little easier. Only an hour into the day, but so far things were going well enough. He said so to Hannah and she smiled.

  “Of course they are. You’re buying her doughnuts and taking her to the zoo. What wouldn’t be okay about that?”

  “I suppose you’re right.” He drank some coffee from a paper cup. “You know, in my whole life, I doubt I’ve spent more than twelve hours with children. I never know what to say to them. I thought maybe she wouldn’t like me.”