A Cup of Silver Linings

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A Cup of Silver Linings Page 25

by Karen Hawkins


  All that was left were these three upstairs rooms—Julie’s studio, which Ellen had begun but had barely made a dent in, and Julie’s and Kristen’s bedrooms.

  Ellen stepped over the threshold, instantly enveloped in the smell of the lavender-scented candles that lined the windowsill. It was painful, walking into Julie’s bedroom without her there. It felt wrong, somehow. Invasive. But for Kristen’s sake, what had to be done had to be done.

  Ellen’s gaze moved over the room, taking in the large purple bed; two fat, overstuffed chairs; the huge dresser that had been painted to resemble a Harlequin mask; a pair of boldly pink, beaded, ruffled, bejeweled, fringed lamps on the nightstands on either side of the deep purple tufted headboard. She couldn’t imagine anything more opposite in taste and color choice to her own home, which was clean, modern, gray, white, and cream. I’m going to need more boxes. All of this has to go.

  And yet, she hated moving a thing. Julie had died here, in this room. Ellen walked to the bed, where she ran her hand over the colorful, slightly askew quilt. The design almost hurt to look at. Unicorns jumped over bright rainbows while busty green mermaids grinned at the large starfish floating past.

  She put her hand on the pillow where Julie had slept her last. Ellen’s heart tightened, and she closed her eyes. Grief poured over her in waves. Stop this, she told herself. You’re making it worse!

  Instantly angry at herself, she pulled a tissue from her sweater pocket, dabbed away her tears, and turned away from the bed. “That won’t help anyone,” she announced to the empty room. Instead of indulging in her emotions, she should be cataloguing the furniture for the estate-sale company. At least that would be productive.

  She made her way to the bilious yellow chair by the bed, but before she could sit, she had to move a tasseled footstool and set aside so many beribboned pillows that she doubted anyone had ever sat here before. No one would ever guess this had been the bedroom of a grown woman, not even her own mother.

  Finally seated, Ellen rested the agenda on her knee and started writing, reading aloud as she went. “Purple-upholstered bed, yellow chair, red chair, huge dresser, large purple wardrobe—” Her gaze fell on the footstool she’d moved out of the way. It was covered in a cow print and decorated with ornate hot-pink fringe. It was hideous, yet she had to smile. You did love chaos, didn’t you, Julie?

  A wheezing sound made Ellen look toward the door. Yoda-like Chuffy stood just inside the room, staring at her, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth, a tuft of thin hair drooping limply over his head and covering one of his bulging eyes. She’d never seen an uglier Chihuahua, although she had to admit, this one had a lot of personality. For the past week, for reasons she had yet to fathom, he’d decided she was an okay person and had started following her wherever she went.

  He wagged his tiny tail now, shivering under his yellow sweater. The poor animal was almost bald, his pink skin visible through his thin white hair. If it weren’t for the knitted sweaters Kristen dressed him in every morning, Ellen was pretty sure he would have frozen to death long ago.

  “What do you think?” she asked him. “Should I bother to catalogue the things in here for the estate sale, or just write it all off as a donation?”

  His tail wagged harder, and he came to stand in front of her. Once there, he looked up at her, over his shoulder at the bed, and then back at her.

  She couldn’t say no to those soulful brown eyes. “You want up, do you?” She set aside her agenda and picked him up, surprised when he snuggled against her. He was so tiny that she felt as if she should handle him like a piece of valuable china, and when he leaned his head on her chest, she couldn’t help but return the hug ever so carefully.

  She placed him in the center of the bed, adjusting his little sweater so it covered him as much as possible. He wagged his tail gratefully, then curled up against a small pillow covered in orange faux fur. As he settled in, he beamed at Ellen as if he expected her to join him, his thin tail beating against the colorful quilt.

  She didn’t approve of having animals in the house, especially on the furniture, but this poor creature, with his hair loss and skin issues, his oddly crooked teeth (the few he had left), and those ridiculously long-lashed and pleading brown eyes, deserved a modicum of comfort, at least. “Poor baby.” She patted him until he gave a contented sigh and settled down, closing his eyes for a much-needed nap.

  She went to collect her agenda, her gaze moving to the window. Large elm and oak trees danced in the winter wind, the sky a weird bright gray. A dream catcher hung from the window latch, the red crystals on the bottom fringe sparkling where they caught the light from the lamps.

  Ellen unhooked the dream catcher and held it up, admiring the glittering gems. If only they could really stop disturbing dreams.

  She grimaced and returned the dream catcher to its spot. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about her dream of Julie. It was just a dream, nothing more, Ellen told herself yet again. It was sad she had to keep reminding herself of that, but it helped, so she continued doing it. Real or not, at least I got to say some things I’ve been wanting to say for a long, long time.

  She turned away from the window and wandered around the room, trailing her fingers over the remnants of Julie’s last few weeks—a book about auras left open on a nightstand, a half-empty box of tissues, a pair of tennis shoes kicked aside beside a chair.

  So many things of Julie’s, all left to Kristen. But nothing for me. I just wanted a letter—something I could hold. A sign you’d thought about me too.

  Her throat tightened, and she turned away from the bed. She hadn’t found one written note or card with her name on it. And no red cube, either.

  She almost rolled her eyes at the way she’d held on to the idea of that silly red cube. And yet her mind stubbornly lingered on her dream, replaying that conversation over and over in a seemingly endless loop. Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could see Julie’s face as she—

  Ellen opened her eyes and frowned. “Stop that,” she muttered to herself. “It was just a dream.”

  Chuffy, who’d fallen asleep snuggled against the small pillow, jerked awake at her sharp words and was now staring at her in confusion.

  “Go back to sleep,” she told him. “I was just trying to keep myself from indulging in Dove Pond ridiculousness.”

  He obediently laid his head back on the pillow but watched her anxiously, as if afraid of another outburst.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going crazy.” Yet. But if she did, it was because she’d tried one of Ava Dove’s ridiculous teas to begin with.

  Besides, if local rumors were to be believed, Ava had played fast and loose with her “abilities” and had caused her sister Sarah some sort of harm. Ellen didn’t know exactly what had happened, because she wasn’t looped into the town gossip chain, thank goodness. What little she did know, she’d overheard in bits and pieces while standing in line at the post office this morning, but it seemed that everyone was in an uproar.

  Which wasn’t surprising, of course. People who believed in talking books and magical teas were destined to live with disappointment and crushed hopes. Shrugging, Ellen glanced at her wristwatch and then frowned. Kristen should have come home by now. Ellen pulled her phone from her pocket, her thumb hovering. But after a moment, she set it on the bed. For a glorious while, she and Kristen had been getting to know each other, which had been deeply rewarding. But since the mural incident, Kristen had given Ellen nothing but frosty silence, barely answering when she spoke, which had left Ellen feeling equal parts lonely and guilty.

  We need to get away from here and start over. The sooner they put this house on the market and got out of this weird little town, the better. Who knew? Maybe Ava’s latest mistake, whatever it was, would finally peel the blinders from Kristen’s eyes and she’d see the Doves and this strange town for what—and who—they really were.

  Restless, Ellen opened the wardrobe and began to sort items into piles
for boxing—trash, donate, store. A half hour later, she had just started to work on the nightstand drawers when the front door slammed. Chuffy sat up expectantly, wagging his tail, his gaze locked on the bedroom door as he waited for Kristen.

  Ellen straightened and smoothed her hands over her face. She could hear Kristen talking to the dogs who’d been sleeping near the doorway, waiting on her. Seconds later, there was a low rumble as Kristen dashed up the stairs to the landing, the fluffy herd following.

  Ellen stepped into the hallway and forced herself to smile. “There you are! I was hoping you’d be home soon.”

  Kristen’s gaze moved past Ellen to the door she’d just come through. “What are you doing in Mom’s room?” Her voice couldn’t be colder.

  Ellen kept her smile in place. “I’m packing things away. I’ve asked Mrs. Carter to come by later next week and do a walk-through. She’s going to pull some comps so we can set a price for the house. Would you like to be here to—”

  “No.” Kristen pushed past Ellen and went into her own bedroom, the dogs following.

  Ellen stifled a sigh and went to the doorway. In trying to respect Kristen’s boundaries, Ellen hadn’t crossed the threshold except to place washed and folded clothes on the bed. It was a pretty room and, unlike the rest of the house, was neat as a pin. Ellen liked the cool gray walls, which were the perfect background for the navy, dark gray, and red patterned duvet cover and throw pillows that decorated the bed. In one corner was a desk neatly lined with reference books, the desk chair painted a bright red. She had a very classic style, which Ellen appreciated. Not what one expected from a purple-haired, diamond-nose-stud-wearing, slouchily dressed teenager who scowled more than she smiled.

  Kristen reached under her bed and pulled out a duffel bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m spending the night at Missy’s.”

  “Tonight? It’s a school night.”

  “We’re going to study. We have a physics quiz tomorrow.” Kristen paused, her gaze moving past Ellen to the hallway. “Where’s Chuffy?”

  “He’s on your mother’s bed.”

  Surprise flickered over Kristen’s face, although she didn’t say anything else.

  “Do you want some dinner before you leave? We can heat up some of the lasagna I made yesterday. You barely touched it, so there’s a lot—”

  “No, thank you.”

  Ellen watched as Kristen added a T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans to her bag, then zipped it closed.

  Floofy, Dangus, and Luffy jumped up as Kristen picked up her duffel bag. Her face softened as she looked down at them. “You guys can’t come with me this time. Sorry.”

  They wagged their tails, looking at her hopefully, as if they believed that if they were good enough, cute enough, she might take them with her.

  It irked Ellen that she felt as if she was doing the same thing, hoping that if she was pleasant enough, nice enough, sweet enough, Kristen might give her a little pat too.

  Kristen’s phone jangled, and she pulled it out of her back pocket and glanced at it. “That’s Missy. I’ve got to go.” Kristen brushed past her and hurried down the hallway.

  Ellen followed, trailing behind the dogs. It was all so frustrating. Would she ever have a relationship with her granddaughter? I wish there really was a red cube. “Kristen, wait.”

  Kristen paused at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing. “What?”

  Ellen came closer. She was going to ask if Kristen wanted to help go through Julie’s room, but when Ellen opened her mouth, other words tumbled out. She listened, shocked, as she asked in a voice that wasn’t quite her own, “I’d like to see the red cube.”

  Kristen froze in place, her gaze locking with Ellen’s.

  She thinks I’ve lost my mind. Oh God, why did I ask that? “Never mind. It’s ridiculous. I just—”

  “Who told you about that?”

  What? Ellen blinked. “It’s… it’s real?”

  “You haven’t spoken to Mom in years, so she couldn’t have told you. And I know I’ve never mentioned it either.” Kristen’s gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Who told you?”

  Oh God. I can’t believe this. Ellen spread her hands, which were as empty as her mind was full. “It’s… I don’t know what…” She took a steadying breath. “Someone told me about it. I— What is it?”

  Kristen grimaced. “Years ago, Mom and I had a fight and… sheesh. I might as well show you. It’ll be faster.” She walked past Ellen back to her bedroom, the dogs following.

  Ellen trailed behind, her heart thudding wildly.

  Kristen threw her duffel bag on the bed, opened her closet, and pulled out a brightly colored cardboard box. She carried it to the bed and set it down.

  Trying to calm her ragged breath, Ellen eyed the box. It was painted with roses and rainbows, and someone had glued a set of red glitter alien antennae to the lid. “I sense your mother’s touch.”

  “One hundred percent Julie Foster.” A smile flicked over Kristen’s face and then disappeared as she opened the box and set the lid to one side. “This is my Life After box.”

  “Life after?”

  “That’s what Mom called it. ‘Life After’ just means ‘life after Mom’s gone.’ ”

  “Oh. A memory box.” She was astonished to see that it was filled almost to the top.

  “I guess. We made it together. She put a lot of thought into it.”

  A sudden pang of envy pinched Ellen’s heart, quickly followed by guilt. How can I be jealous of Kristen’s relationship with Julie? What is wrong with me? Ellen pushed her negative thoughts away and moved closer to the bed. Inside the box were scrapbooks, a wadded-up T-shirt, a painted ceramic dog, several photos in frames, small plastic boxes of mementos, five or six thumb drives on gaudy key chains, and a number of other items.

  Kristen dug into one corner and pulled out a handcrafted tissue box cover made of cheap plastic decorated with yarn. Each of the four sides was covered with a Christmas image—holly, a tree, a star, and a stocking.

  Kristen handed it to Ellen.

  “This is the red cube?” She turned it this way and that. “It’s not even red.”

  “Parts of it are.” Kristen shrugged. “Mom called it the red cube, so it’s the red cube.”

  How was this box supposed to help Ellen understand her granddaughter? Ellen looked at each of the decorations, trying to see some meaning in the pictures, some—

  Kristen made an exasperated sound and took the cube. She turned it over, and there on the bottom, in a duct-tape pocket, was a piece of folded notebook paper. Kristen pulled it out. “These were the rules Mom and I set for each other.”

  Oh my God. Julie said I needed to read this. And here it is. It was suddenly hard to swallow. Aware that Kristen was watching her, Ellen forced a weak smile. “Not many kids get to set rules for their parents to follow.”

  “We didn’t set rules for each other.” Kristen handed the paper to Ellen. “We set rules for ourselves.”

  Ellen took the notepaper. It was slightly dirty and very wrinkled, like something a parent might find at the bottom of a child’s backpack. She unfolded the notepaper.

  I, Julie Foster, do hereby promise to do the following:

  I will take my medication and continue my therapy. It’s better to have a medicated mother than an unmedicated one.

  I will make the most of my strengths and lessen my weaknesses.

  I will listen to Kristen when she makes suggestions on how to better my life even if those suggestions are annoying things like eating, sleeping more, or taking vitamins.

  I will encourage Kristen to fly free and become who she is meant to be.

  I will never, ever, ever, ever question Kristen’s decisions unless I perceive something to be dangerous.

  I will make sure Kristen knows without question that I love her and accept her for who she is, as she is.

  “These are pretty big things.” Ellen wondered why she felt every one
of them said more about her relationship with Julie than about Julie’s relationship with Kristen.

  “My rules are on the other side.” Kristen’s phone went off again and she pulled it back out and began texting.

  Ellen turned the paper over.

  I, Kristen Foster, do hereby promise to do the following:

  I will never lie to Mom.

  I will try to keep from being too teen when Mom asks legitimate questions about where I am or what I’m going to do.

  I will admit there are legitimate questions.

  I will help around the house without being asked, especially when Mom’s dealing with her down cycles.

  I will make sure Mom knows I love her and accept her for who she is, as she is.

  Ellen stared at the paper. When she looked at the things Julie and Kristen had promised, it explained exactly what they wanted and needed from each other. Acceptance, love, and trust. Wasn’t I giving those things to Kristen already? Somehow, Ellen doubted Julie would think so.

  She folded the paper back into its square and returned it to Kristen. “Thank you for sharing that.”

  Kristen returned it to its pocket and dropped the cube back into her memory box. “No problem. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to go.”

  She returned the box to the closet, grabbed her duffel bag, and left, Ellen following, already feeling lonelier even as her mind buzzed over the realization that the red cube existed.

  Kristen stopped on the top step and looked at the dogs standing at her feet, their tails all wagging hopefully. “The dogs sleep in my room at night. Since I’ll be gone—” She stopped, obviously concerned.

  “I’ll take them out one last time and then let them in your room to sleep. I’ll also make sure they get their breakfast in the morning. I’ve seen you do it enough that I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.”

  A ghost of a smile touched Kristen’s mouth, gratitude flickering in her hazel eyes before she headed downstairs. “Thank you.”

  “We’ll talk when you get back,” Ellen called, her words drowned out by the thunder of Kristen’s tennis shoes on the old wooden stairs and the click-clack of the dog herd.

 

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