by Elena Graf
Alina surveyed the pile of suitcases and garment bags. “What’s all this? Are you moving in, Mom?” She was joking, of course, but the question landed a little too close to home.
“I’ll tell you later, sweetie.” She gave Alina a quick hug around her shoulders.
Liz helped Maggie’s daughters arrange their bags in the back. When they were all packed, the rear compartment was full to the roof.
While they waited in the line to pay for parking, Alina sat forward so she could talk to her mother. “I’m so excited to go to Maine. I’ve never been there.”
Maggie gazed at her daughter with worry. “Oh, honey, don’t you remember? Daddy and I took you girls to York when you were a little girl. We went to the zoo where they have the white tigers.”
Alina had that blank expression on her face she often had when encouraged to think about her childhood. Everything about their early life in a Romanian orphanage was so traumatic, she tended to block out the good memories as well as the bad.
Maggie remembered how her heart broke to see those two little girls coming down the ramp from the plane. They were just toddlers. Each held a hand of the sympathetic flight attendant. They looked so bewildered and lost, clinging together when she and Barry tried to pick them up. They refused to be separated and stared at their new parents suspiciously. When she’d finally hugged them, they didn’t respond at first. Only gradually was she able to teach them to accept affection. They insisted on sleeping together in the same bed until they were teenagers. It was a miracle they were as intact as they were.
“Yes, I think I remember the tigers, Mom,” said Alina after a long period of reflection.
“I definitely remember the tigers,” said Sophia, who was a year older. “And we went to the beach. We found those little green crabs and the pink starfish under the rocks.” She nudged her sister. “Don’t you remember, Ali?”
Thank God for Sophia, Maggie thought. What a tough, little thing she was. In the orphanage, she’d had to fight for own survival and her sister’s. At first, Maggie thought she’d blocked the horrible memories of the orphanage, but Sophia had told her adopted mother about the nightmare of their early life without emotion. “Our parents died in a car accident. Our grandmother gave us up because she was too old to care for us and didn’t have enough food for herself. I could see how it broke her heart to leave us there.” It broke Maggie’s heart too, just to listen.
When Alina spoke, her voice was small and childlike. “Can we go to the zoo, Mom? I want to see the white tigers again. I really don’t remember them.”
“Liz? Can we take them to the zoo?”
Liz glanced in the rear-view mirror to engage Alina’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Alina, but the York Animal Kingdom closes in September. It’s only open in the summer. If only you had come a few weeks ago.”
Alina looked so disappointed that Maggie worried that she might cry. She never knew what memory, no matter how inconsequential, might trigger a deluge.
“A few weeks ago, we didn’t know Mom had cancer,” said Sophia in a matter-of-fact voice.
“So that’s what it takes to get you two to visit,” said Maggie, trying to inject some levity into the conversation.
“Does Dad know you’re sick?” Alina asked.
“I told him.” Of course, Sophia would tell Barry. She’d always been especially attached to her father. Sometimes, it seemed she was still hoping against hope for a reconciliation between her parents. “Dad said he was really sorry to hear it. He asked if there was anything he could do.”
Maggie glanced at Liz to see what effect this conversation was having on her, but Liz’s eyes were firmly fixed on the road ahead. Fortunately, Alina changed the subject to Katrina, her daughter. She showed Maggie new pictures on her phone. Maggie could never see enough photos of her beautiful granddaughter, who had dark hair like her mother, but enormous blue eyes like her father.
They stopped in Kittery for dinner at a trendy restaurant Alina had found on a travel app. Liz didn’t look impressed with either the food or the service, but she paid the bill without complaint. When they finally arrived home, Maggie could see how tired Liz was when she brought in her daughters’ luggage. She proved her fatigue when she asked Maggie if she would mind leaving the things she’d brought from her New York apartment in the car overnight. “Hopefully, I don’t get your cockroaches in my car. With our winters, maybe they’ll freeze to death.”
Liz showed Alina to the seashore room. Sophia liked the moose on the quilt in the Great North Woods bedroom and asked if she could sleep there.
Maggie sat on the bed while Sophia unpacked her bag. “Thanks for coming, sweetie.”
“Of course, we’d come, Mom. We couldn’t let you go through this alone.”
“I’m not alone. Liz has been there every step of the way.”
“You’re lucky to have such a good friend.”
Maggie sighed. Was this the moment to tell her?
No, better do it tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.
Chapter 28
Liz was keeping an eye on the eggs and bacon in the frying pans while Maggie and her daughters devoured her blueberry muffins in the breakfast room. She was listening to them debate whether to head up to Cape Elisabeth to see the Portland Head Lighthouse or to Gray and the Maine Wildlife Park. Morning had brought the gift of a brilliant High October day, not a cloud in the sky, crisp, but warm enough to get by with a sweatshirt.
“But Mom, I want to see the moose,” Sophia said petulantly. “I’ve never seen a moose.”
Liz observed that like most adult children, Maggie’s daughters regressed slightly in their mother’s presence. That is, until the mothers aged to the point when they became the children, like Monica Stolz.
Alina had a different agenda. “Let’s go the lighthouse. I want to take some photos with my new camera,”
Liz delivered the first batch of over-easy eggs to the table. “Yours are coming right up.” Liz was tempted to kiss the top of Maggie’s head as she went by, but she remembered they had company and caught herself just in time. She returned to the kitchen for the plate of bacon.
“Your muffins are incredibly good,” called Alina after her. “Do you always get such good meals here, Mom?”
“Yes, Liz is a very good cook, although you wouldn’t have known it from the meals she made in college.”
“Liz, if you’ve known Mom since college, why has she been keeping you a secret?” Apparently, Alina’s journalist’s instincts had sniffed out a story.
In the kitchen, Liz almost broke the yokes of her over-easy eggs as she flipped them. “You’ll have to ask your mother that question.”
Maggie slid smoothly into theatrical poise. “We lost touch after I married Dad.”
Good answer, thought Liz. True, but sufficiently vague. She took the heated plate out of the oven with a pot holder and put the eggs on them. “Sorry for the wait.”
Maggie looked up and smiled at her. “It’s always worth it when you cook for me.”
Liz struggled to keep a straight face when Maggie surreptitiously rubbed her backside. She looked up and noticed Sophia studying her.
Liz took her seat at the head of the table. “If you don’t mind driving around a bit, we can probably take in both the Wildlife Park and the Portland Headlight. We can end our adventure at my favorite seafood restaurant in Portland. What do you think?”
Alina jumped at the idea. “Yes! Perfect!”
“Mag?”
“I’ll go along with whatever the girls want to do.” Maggie gave each of her daughters a smile.
“Okay! Eat up. Then showers. Let’s be on the road by nine.” Liz dipped the corner of her toast into the yolks of the eggs, reluctantly spoiling their golden perfection.
When Maggie and Alina went up to take showers at the same time, Liz was glad that she’d agreed to the arc
hitect’s suggestion of a backup water heater.
While Liz cleaned the cast iron pans with kosher salt, Sophia cleared the table. She stayed to watch Liz clean the muffin pan. “I always wondered about the right way to do that.”
“I don’t know if it’s the right way, but it’s the way I do it,” said Liz, rubbing oil into the surface of the pan.
Sophia nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for looking after Mom, first with the broken leg and now this.”
Liz realized that Sophia had waited for this opportunity to speak privately. “That’s what friends do.”
“I’d say what you’re doing is above and beyond the call of friendship.”
Liz stood straight, putting her a head taller than tiny Sophia. She studied the young woman’s face to see if she suspected something, then decided it was an innocent remark.
“As you can see, I have plenty of room here. And your mother couldn’t drive. I’m used to house guests. I have them all summer.”
“Still. It was nice of you. It was so lucky she was here when she found the lump.”
That comment told Liz that Sophia had no idea about their relationship or the circumstances under which the lump had been discovered. “Yes, lucky,” Liz repeated, arching her brow slightly.
“Don’t you think she should consider chemo?”
“No, I don’t,” replied Liz bluntly.
“I have enormous respect for Dr. Birnbaum. I’ve read her papers, but…”
“But what? You think you know better?” The remark had flown out by reflex. For years, Liz had to put snotty residents in their place. But this was Maggie’s daughter.
“No, I don’t,” stammered Sophia, “but she’s my mother, and I want her to be cured.”
Liz leaned back against the counter so that she looked less intimidating. “As we both know, ‘cure’ where cancer is concerned is a relative thing.” She bent down a little so her face was closer to Sophia’s. “Do you love your mother?”
“Of course, I do!”
“But you think we should pour toxic, heavy metals into her veins for no appreciable benefit?”
“It could save her life.”
“Yes, it could, but in this situation, it’s like using the atomic bomb when a rifle shot will do.”
“Don’t you believe in chemo?”
“Oh, I believe in it when there is no better treatment. Or to shrink tumors in advance of surgery.”
“Is Dr. Birnbaum considering Herceptin?”
“Yes, we’re still waiting for the results of the FISH test. But when Dr. Birnbaum was telling your mother about the potential for cardiac damage, I began to wonder, is it really worth it? Is a small statistical increase in long-term survival worth wrecking your heart?”
“If you’re the one who survives, it is.”
Liz nodded her agreement.
“I know surgeons are skeptical of medical solutions,” said Sophia.
“Guilty as charged. I often think surgery is the only honest branch of medicine.”
“Surgeons kept doing mastectomies long after lumpectomies were shown to be just as effective.”
She’s a sharp kid. Liz looked at Sophia with new respect.
“Yes, we did, and that was wrong. Sometimes, we keep doing things based on habit rather than data. No disrespect, Sophia, but chemo in early-stage breast cancer is one of those bad habits.”
Sophia gave her a long critical look. “I truly respect you, Dr. Stolz, but she is my mother.”
It was on the tip of Liz’s tongue to say, and she is my lover. Instead, she took a deep breath. “If you want to talk your mother into chemo, go right ahead, but I don’t agree with you, and I will make my opinion very clear.”
“I’m sure you will,” replied Sophia tersely. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Liz was fuming as she finished loading the dishwasher. She wished Maggie would get on with coming out to her daughters because it was becoming more awkward by the minute.
Maggie breezed into the kitchen. “I’m sorry I left you with all the dishes.” She raised her face to offer a kiss. The one she received in return was perfunctory.
“It’s fine,” said Liz in a surly voice.
“What’s the matter?” Maggie drew back to see her face.
“Sophia and I disagree about chemo for you.”
“I’m not doing it,” said Maggie with conviction.
“Then, you tell her. She’s annoyed with me, I think.”
“Liz,” said Maggie, nudging her by the shoulder so she would turn around. “Try to be patient. Dealing with adult children is like walking on egg shells.”
“I’m trying, but it’s not easy.” Liz tried to give Maggie a hug, but she heard footsteps on the stairs and instantly took a step back.
Alina bounded into the room. “I’m ready to see the moose!”
***
Liz and Maggie trailed behind the young women as they walked down the small mammals trail. Maggie reached out and gave Liz’s hand a little squeeze.
“Thank you so much for bringing us here. The girls are having a great time.” Her daughters squealed in delighted horror as the fisher cat snarled at them. “Look at them. It takes so little to entertain them. They were so deprived as little ones. If their grandmother hadn’t taken them when they were babies, they would be much worse off.”
“That was a big undertaking for you and Barry. Adopting abused children from another country was very brave.”
“I know you’re not a big Barry fan, but he wasn’t the worst person. He was a very good father. The girls adore him.”
“Oh, I’m sure he excelled in the pater familias role. It completely plays to his male ego.”
Maggie stopped walking, forcing Liz to stop as well. “Sometimes, Liz, you are so unforgiving.”
“Why should I forgive him? The man stole you from me, and it took four decades to get you back.”
“He didn’t steal me, Liz. I went willingly.”
“Then maybe I should be angry at you,” said Liz in a cool voice, “but I blame you less. Your mother blackmailed you into staying in Syracuse. Barry played along and benefited from having a trophy wife. The dicks always win in the end.” Liz hadn’t meant to sound so angry or bring up the past, but sometimes the old wounds still ached in the present, no matter how often she said to Maggie that she’d forgiven her.
Maggie glanced anxiously toward her daughters. “Let’s save this conversation for another time. I don’t want the girls to hear you.”
Liz let out a long frustrated sigh. “You will tell them soon? About us?”
“Yes, I’ll tell them before they leave. I want them to get to know you first. And I haven’t seen them in months. I want some bonding time before I lower the boom.”
***
Alina had the opportunity to get some great shots of the Portland Headlight. She noticed that Liz was interested in technology and let her try her camera. Then she had a hard time getting it back. Alina showed her the way to take high definition shots of the ocean. She said the afternoon light was perfect. She’d also taken some amazing photos of the wildlife in the game park and showed them around at the table while they ate dinner in the Old Port.
On the way home from Portland, Sophia and Alina fell asleep in the back seat. Liz gazed at them in the rear-view mirror. “I guess the old ladies wore them out.”
“Their convoluted travel yesterday must have been exhausting. And we stayed up so late last night.”
Maggie gazed into the back-seat area before putting her hand on Liz’s thigh. “I think the sensitivity where they operated has calmed down.” She lightly tapped her breast to make her point.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
Maggie smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
“Maybe our young friends will decide to make an earl
y night of it.”
“More likely, they’ll get a second wind and raid your wine cellar.”
“That’s what it’s there for.”
As Maggie had predicted, her daughters felt refreshed after their nap and were looking for sweets. After a feast of seafood, they had declared themselves “too full” to have dessert, but then they discovered Liz’s stash of local ice cream in the freezer and changed their minds. Liz offered them hot fudge that could be heated in the microwave, nuts and whipped cream. Sculptural sundaes were the result. Sophia built a skyscraper for her mother.
“I couldn’t possibly,” Maggie protested.
“Please, Mom,” Sophia pleaded. “I made it just for you.”
“Oh, all right, if Liz will help. Bring another spoon.”
There was quiet in the breakfast room while the ice cream was being consumed. Then Alina said, “When are you going home, Mom?”
Maggie glanced anxiously at Liz. “I don’t really know, darling.”
Sophia primly offered more information. “Mom’s having her treatments up here. Dr. Stolz will be overseeing them.”
“That’s really nice of you, Liz.” Alina was distracted, trying to rescue the whipped cream landslide cascading down her mountain of Black Raspberry Explosion ice cream.
“Your mother elected me her doctor. I don’t really have a choice.” The sundae was really good. Liz reached for another spoonful.
“Isn’t it a conflict to treat your friend?” Sophia sucked hot fudge from her spoon.
“Now that her leg is healed, I’m not really treating her.”
“But you did the core needle biopsy.”
Liz put down the spoon. This interrogation was getting serious. “What’s a CNB?” she said lightly. “It’s like lancing a boil.”
“But you did it.” Sophia’s eyes held a challenge.
Liz returned it. “What’s your point, Sophia?”
“Don’t you think someone else should be overseeing her treatment?”