by Gail Cleare
“Is there news?” Nell held her breath to hear the answer.
“Mary is awake, and she wants to see you.”
Chapter 3
Mary ~ 1967
Mary Sullivan and her friend Charlotte, US Army nurses in Honolulu awaiting transport to Vietnam, were going to meet their friends for a drink and to say good-bye. They’d been getting ready for this moment a long time, and now that it was nearly time to ship out, Mary was so twitchy she could barely sit still.
She had been working in the emergency room at Mass General Hospital in Boston, a registered nurse and college graduate, when the urge to enlist struck. The television news films of those boys lying in the jungle, in pain and bleeding, made her want to help. Mary had entered the US Army Nurse Corps as an officer, a first lieutenant. She’d seen plenty of severe trauma cases in the ER, so they weren’t daunting to her.
The next morning, she and Charlotte would board a plane headed to Long Binh, the US base near Saigon.
“I’m a little nervous now that it’s really happening.” Charlotte twisted a Kleenex in her fingers.
“Me too. Scared shitless, to tell the truth.” Mary groaned as the taxi lurched over a pothole in the road.
The girls rode through the city’s glamorous Waikiki Beach area, which buzzed with nightlife. People in military uniforms were everywhere, crossing the street and strolling down the sidewalks. Clubs and restaurants flashed neon signs, and off to the northwest, the lights of the airport and Pearl Harbor glowed in the night sky.
“That damn recruiting officer was so cute. Where is he now?” Charlotte joked, but neither of them laughed.
Mary and Charlotte had trained together at Fort Sam Houston in Texas. Several other friends from there had ended up in Hawaii too, on the way to Guam and then on to Vietnam. One young man in particular, a navy pilot slated for duty on an aircraft carrier, had completely charmed Mary. Fit and handsome, Lieutenant Thomas Reilly had a sly sense of humor. Whenever he was in the group, people laughed, which helped cut the tension. They were all trying not to think about fear.
Mary was attracted to Thomas at first sight. They had been together nearly every night for a month, and the intimacy between them had deepened. There was a lot of kissing and touching, but Mary drew the line at having actual sex. She didn’t want to risk getting pregnant, especially when heading into a war zone. Pregnant military personnel would be sent home immediately.
The best solution was to avoid sex entirely for her one-year tour of duty, Mary had decided. They were on their way into a dangerous situation, and the future was unknown, so it was a bad time to start something serious. Mary tried to hold her emotions in check. Falling in love with Thomas would have been easy if things were different.
Mary hoped they would meet again someday. It was going to be hard to say good-bye.
“The boys better have saved a table, or we’re out of luck.” Charlotte looked at the queue of people waiting outside the bar.
“Are you kidding? Two babes like us? We can get a seat anywhere we want.” Mary laughed as she freshened her frosted pink lipstick.
“I’d rather have my own chair, though, not some GI’s lap.”
They paid the cab driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk. A crowd of servicemen surged around the entrance to the bar. Mary and Charlotte elbowed their way inside, where colored lights glistened and the word HONEY’S in bright neon script decorated the wall behind the long bar.
The jukebox played Mary’s current favorite, “Come See About Me” by the Supremes. She sang along, looking around the room for their friends. The music and chatter were so loud she couldn’t even hear herself, then the tall Irishman from Massachusetts stood up near the dance floor and waved to her. She mouthed, “There they are,” to Charlotte. The two women weaved their way through the crowd to where their friends were sitting.
Thomas held a chair out, and she slid by to take the seat, brushing against him. She looked into his eyes, and Thomas pulled her close for a slow kiss. Dazzled, she reached to hang onto his shoulders. His buddies immediately chimed in with hoots and catcalls.
“Hey. Will you two get a room?”
“Yeah, Tom, quit corrupting Nelson here with your X-rated behavior. He’s still a virgin, you know.”
“Reilly, how come you always have to get the girl?”
“This girl is the only one who ever mattered,” Thomas said quietly, raising Mary’s hand to his lips.
Mary felt the blush creep up to her cheeks, but she didn’t pull away.
A girl selling flowers went from table to table with her bucket of blossoms, and Thomas called her over. He chose a dark-red rose and offered it to Mary. She sniffed the delicate petals, and the scent reminded her of home, of her mother’s garden. The music and the volume of conversation offered a strange kind of privacy. Nobody else could hear what the two of them said to one another.
“Mary, you know I love you, right?” Thomas touched her cheek. “I hate to let you go tomorrow.” His expression changed, a glimmer of fear showing.
“But Thomas, you’ll be leaving soon, too. We need to be brave. It’s too late for anything else.”
“Yes. We’ll come back and be together then.” He pressed her hand to his lips again, turning it over to kiss the tender inside of her wrist.
Her arm began to tremble as the sensation shot through her, a strange tight feeling in her stomach. “I hope so.”
He hesitated. “Will you marry me, then?”
Mary laughed. “We’ll live happily ever after.” Lots of soldiers had been proposing to her lately, most of them total strangers.
“I mean it, Mary.” He looked at her with a serious expression. “A house, babies, the whole nine yards? Will you be my girl forever?”
She stared at him as he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small white box.
“Thomas, what are you doing?” she said, guessing the answer.
He smiled and opened the box to show her the ring.
Mary tried to speak and couldn’t. All her cautious rationalizations disintegrated as she gave in to the thrill of knowing he returned her feelings. She swallowed. “Yes,” she mouthed, all sound lost in the noise of the club. She nodded enthusiastically, grinning. “YES.”
“Good.” Tom smiled and slid the ring onto her finger. “Not a bad fit.” He spoke directly into her ear, his lips tickling. “A future for us together. That’s worth staying alive for, isn’t it?”
She shivered and nodded, looking down at her left hand. The little diamond solitaire sparkled, a promise of hope. Mary threw her arms around Thomas, and they kissed, sealing the vow. Their friends at the table started teasing again until she flashed them the ring, then they went wild with clapping and congratulations.
When Charlotte beckoned a little while later, Mary went with her to the ladies’ room. She showed her friend the ring up close, and they both cried. After three mai tais, champagne, and a serious marriage proposal, Mary was floating on a pink cloud. When she tried to find her way through the crowd back to the table, she tripped. A tall soldier reached out to catch her just in time.
“Whoa there, sweet thing.” He laughed as he pulled her back upright. “Guess I shouldn’t ask you to dance, eh? Not too steady on your feet.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I’m saving all my dances for my fiancé anyhow.” Her words slurred, and she realized how drunk she was. “But thanks for saving me, kind sir.”
“Your fiancé, is it? Lucky dog.”
“No, no… he’s a pilot.”
The young man looked at her with admiration and grinned. “All right, Lieutenant, lucky pilot it is. And good luck to you too. We all need it.”
He tipped an imaginary cap to her and stepped back to fade into the crowd.
The club’s photographer stopped to capture their gr
oup as everyone leaned in close and toasted Mary and Thomas. When they paid the bill, Mary asked the girl to send the photo prints to her parents’ address. Nobody knew how much mail was getting through at the front.
Late that night, Mary lay in her bunk worrying about the future as she listened to sounds in the barracks. The soft murmur of female voices on one side soothed her while quiet sobbing came from behind the opposite wall. She wondered whether she would ever see Thomas Reilly again.
Drifting off to sleep in a half-conscious vision, she saw bullets hail down from the sky while men screamed, their bodies gushing red and their eyes filled with terror. But not Thomas, dear God, Mary begged. Not her Thomas. Let them both come through the war in one piece, and then their future together would be perfect.
Chapter 4
Nell ~ 2014
When Nell got back to the hospital, the sun was going down. Lights were blinking on all over town. But inside the ICU, the shades were always drawn, the lights and voices dimmed. It was a world where time stood still.
Trying not to make a sound, Nell entered her mother’s cubicle and sat down in the chair next to the bed. Once again, Mom’s eyes were closed, but when Nell gently laid a hand over hers, they flickered open. The horrible tube was still fastened into her mouth, but her eyes smiled when she recognized her daughter.
“I love you, Mom.” Nell’s bottom lip trembled. She wanted to grab her mother by the shoulders, both to hug her and to shake her and demand an explanation. The woman she was looking at seemed almost like a stranger. A bubble of agitation began to swell in her chest.
Mom slowly pointed at herself then held up two fingers. Me too, she had said.
“Mary Ellen Reilly,” Nell scolded, pretending to tease though she really meant every word. “How did you get yourself into a predicament like this?”
Mom shrugged her shoulders and blinked her eyes, then she gave Nell’s hand a weak squeeze.
“Everything okay in here, girls?” The nurse came in to check the tubes and monitors, making notes on the patient chart. “Glad to see your daughter, Mary?” She smoothed Mom’s hair back from her brow with an affectionate pat.
Mom’s eyes smiled back, and she nodded.
The nurse pointed toward the bedside table, where there was a pad of paper and a pen. “She can’t talk, but she can write if you hold the pad for her. That’s how we’ve been communicating. Don’t tire her out, please. She needs to rest.”
The nurse left them alone again.
“Mom.” Nell hesitated. “I don’t know what to think about… all this.” Seeing her mother so frail and ill made it hard to talk about her feelings.
Mary gazed at Nell, her eyes full of unspoken words. She gestured toward the writing tools. Nell put the pen in her hand and balanced the pad on the mattress.
Mary wrote slowly, her hand trembling. “COTTAGE.”
“Yes.” Nell nodded. “I’ve been there. They gave me the address. It’s… very nice.”
“WINSTON,” Mary wrote, raising her eyebrows questioningly.
“I let him in and fed him.” Nell smiled, relieved her mother had brought up something easier to talk about. “I’m not sure how long he was outside, but he’s fine now. Very cute. Adorable, in fact.”
Mary closed her eyes for a moment. Then she opened them again and wrote on the pad, “JAKE.”
“Yes, we’ve met. Briefly.”
Mary’s throat contracted as though she were trying to speak. Then she struggled to write something else on the pad. “HE DIDN’T,” the shaky letters said.
Nell read them aloud and leaned closer. “He didn’t what, Mom? Don’t worry. I fed Winston, and he’s fine.”
Mary’s eyes filled with tears, which began to roll down her pale cheeks. Nell reached over to blot them with a tissue, making soothing noises.
“No, no, hush now,” she said softly. “Don’t cry, Mom. It’s okay, really.”
Mom’s anxious eyes pleaded, and she moved the pen again.
“DO IT,” she wrote underneath the other lines.
Nell looked down at the pad, trying to make sense of the message. “I’ll do anything you want, Mom, whatever you want me to do, of course. Hush, now, you just rest. We can talk some more later, and you can tell me then. It’s all okay.”
She patted her mother’s arm and stroked her forehead. Mom’s eyes smiled at her wearily then fluttered shut as she relaxed and drifted off again. She looked peaceful. Nell could see her chest moving up and down, and the monitors continued to blink steadily.
Looking down at the pad when she put it back on the bedside table, Nell realized what Mom had actually been writing. “JAKE. HE DIDN’T DO IT.”
Nell stared at the letters as the dread she had been feeling all day swept over her again. Hadn’t Jake said something about making mistakes? Did he do something that put Mom in danger? Why was Mom defending him? She seemed to assume that Nell would accuse him of some wrongdoing.
Jake had also mentioned “both” women. Nell wondered who the other one was and what had happened to her. Perhaps it was the sweet-faced woman in the photo with Mom and Jake. What was her connection with Mom? Where was she now, fourteen years later?
Nell had so many questions. What Mom had written about Jake didn’t answer anything at all. In fact, it opened the door to a whole new mystery. Nell’s instincts told her there was much more to the story and Jake Bascomb was at the heart of it. If he was somehow responsible for hurting her mother, Nell would make sure he never got near Mom again.
It was bad enough that this strange man was so involved with Mom that she’d deceived her own family to become his “Ellie” but even worse to think he might have taken advantage of Mom’s generous nature to harm her in some way. Nell didn’t believe for a minute that he was innocent, though she didn’t yet know what the crime was supposed to be.
Nell looked down at her mother’s sleeping face, at her closed eyes, blue shadows in the deep hollows. So sweet and beautiful and so full of secrets.
Chapter 5
Bridget ~ 2014
Bridget waved at the security guard and drove through the gate, stopping to empty the mailbox at the foot of her driveway. She gazed approvingly at the smooth green lawns and manicured flower beds in this beautiful community in McLean, Virginia, just outside Washington, DC. Her professional image demanded a home address equal in prestige with those of her interior-design clients. No house in the area was worth less than a million dollars, and some were valued at more than ten times that much.
She parked her white Mercedes sedan in the three-car garage at the back of the house, noticing her stepdaughter Heather’s baby-blue BMW convertible as she pulled in. Admiring the new manicure on her long fingernails, Bridget pushed the button to close the garage door and went through the entry to the kitchen-slash-great room, a beautiful open space that looked out on a flagstone patio and swimming pool.
But the first thing Bridget saw was her fabulous brown leather jacket lying in a wrinkled pile on the floor next to the marble-topped island. Walking over to pick it up, she found Heather’s backpack and shoes dumped nearby.
Bridget’s eyes narrowed, and she clenched her jaw, but she counted slowly to three and managed to avoid an explosion.
In her mid-forties and with no kids of her own to raise, Bridget had at first welcomed the chance to take on her husband’s daughter. But Heather was totally self-absorbed and showed no interest in her stepmother other than as a source of cash and clothes. Lucky for Heather, they wore the same size, and there were plenty of outfits to share.
Bridget put her things down on the counter and greeted her little black poodle, Lulubelle. Tucking the dog under one arm, Bridget flipped her artfully streaked blond hair behind her shoulder and went through the envelopes and magazines with one hand, throwing the junk mail into the trash. One letter stood out f
rom the rest, neatly typed with the return address reading “Confidential Services, LLP.” She snatched it up, dropping Lulu gently back onto the floor. Ripping the envelope open, she scanned the single page inside. Maybe this would be it, the news she had been waiting to hear.
“Dear Ms. Reilly,” it began. “We are sorry to inform you that the adoption records you requested were lost when a fire destroyed…”
She shoved the letter back into the envelope. Another dead end. Is this really worth it? Should she keep looking, or was it a waste of time and money? Some people didn’t deserve a second chance. She must be one of them.
Bridget picked up her things and went upstairs. She would file the letter, with all the other reports, in the folder taped to the underside of her sweater drawer. Her husband would never guess there were secrets from the past that could be used against her.
Eric would be home soon. Time to get dressed for the evening. And the next day, she’d be off to Vermont. I should pack now so everything will be ready.
Down the hallway, the sound of rock music pounded behind the closed door of Heather’s bedroom. Bridget lifted her hand to knock but hesitated when she heard two girls laughing. Heather had a friend over. Rather than face the scornful tolerance that would doubtless greet her, Bridget decided to wait until Eric came home. Heather knew better than to be rude in front of her father. His punishments could be ruthless.
Bridget headed for her dressing room and picked out what she would need for the trip. She packed a couple of small bags and hid them behind her bathrobes. Thinking about Nell and their mother way up north, Bridget dialed her sister’s cell phone and listened to it ring and ring. Voicemail picked up, so she left a message.
“Hey, Nell, it’s me. We’re going to a business dinner tonight, but I’ll have my phone. Please, please call and tell me what’s happening. How’s Mom? Call me.”