To Have and To Hold Page 22

  Though his eyebrows furrowed, he returned her smile. “Did I miss something?”

  “No.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pul ed him closer to her. “You didn’t miss

  anything at al .” Before he could respond, she gave him another kiss, this one longer and

  meant to convey how grateful she was that he’d been at the train station the day she arrived in

  Omaha.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Grace, Calvin and their children came over to share supper with Mary and Dave at Katie’s

  house that evening. Afterwards, the women went to the kitchen to clean the dishes. Mary

  washed, Grace’s daughter dried, and Grace put the dishes away. Meanwhile, Katie cleaned up

  the kitchen. As they worked, Mary couldn’t help but notice the awkward silence. Supper hadn’t

  been too strained with Katie’s son talking about fish again and tel ing Mary how much he

  enjoyed the meal. The narrowing of Katie’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Mary who decided not

  to make eye contact with her anymore. Tomorrow, she and Dave would be on the train, so she

  could leave Katie and the rest of the unpleasantness behind her. She couldn’t wait to go home

  and hold her children.

  Turning her attention back to the dishes, she finished washing a plate and handed it to Charity.

  “Charity’s beautiful, just like you,” she told Grace.

  Grace smiled as she arranged the cups on the hooks lining the wal . “Mary, you have beauty,

  too.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Mary waited for Katie to leave the room before she continued. “I

  remember why I didn’t like looking in mirrors, but I don’t mind the mirrors anymore.”

  “You don’t?” Grace asked.

  Lowering her voice, Mary shook her head. “No. I’m not beautiful in terms of what most define

  beauty to be, but when I look at myself, I see myself the way Dave sees me and it’s even

  better.” She didn’t know how else to explain it so she decided to leave it at that.

  Grace hugged Mary and whispered, “I’m so glad to hear that.”

  “Wel , you did tel me that love makes a woman beautiful.”

  Pul ing away from her, she asked, “I did?”

  “On your wedding day.”

  “You remember that?”

  “I remember everything from my time here in Maine now.”

  Grace patted her shoulder. “Even the unpleasant things?”

  “Everything. But it’s alright. I accept it for what it was.” She shrugged. “In some ways, it

  makes me appreciate my life in Nebraska even more.”

  “That’s good. I want you to be happy.”

  “I am, Grace. I’m happier than I ever thought I could be.”

  Wiping a tear from her eye, she smiled. “I am glad for you. I miss you sometimes, but I know

  you’re better off there than here. But Mary, you should know something.”

  “What’s that?”

  Grace glanced at her daughter who was watching them. “Charity, honey, why don’t you go

  play outside?”

  The girl sighed. “I miss everything good.”

  “No, you don’t.” She took the dishtowel from the girl and shooed her out of the kitchen. “Go

  play. It’s better out there than with us boring adults.”

  Charity headed outside before Grace returned to Mary. When she did, Mary whispered,

  “Where’s Katie?” She knew the men and boys were out on the porch talking, but the last time

  she checked, Katie was in the dining room, and that wasn’t too far from them.

  Grace motioned to the window. “She’s doing what she’s always done best.”

  Curious, Mary turned and peered out the open window where Katie was in the backyard talking

  to Leah. “They real y are close, aren’t they?”

  “That’s why it’s hard to tel one from the other at times.”

  Keeping her voice low, she pressed, “What did you want to tel me?”

  After a moment, Grace clasped her hands over Mary’s. “You can’t take things at face value

  here. A lot of people pretend to be happy. Growing up, they al thought you were the one who

  wasn’t going to be happy because of the lot you’d been given.”

  “Because of my looks.”

  She nodded. “And some of them preferred it that way.”

  Mary glanced out the window where Katie and Leah were stil huddled together. “Did I upset

  them by getting married?”

  “No. But you did upset them when you came here with a man who adores you. You upset

  quite a few people.”

  “Mother.”

  “And a couple more. The thing is that you’re happy and they aren’t. I saw how they responded

  to you today at Mother’s. Keep in mind that it’s your happiness that makes them aware of their

  unhappiness, and because of that, they don’t like having you around. You took a risk. No one

  else would have had the courage to do what you did, but you did it and it’s paid off. Some

  people can’t handle it when others are happy.”

  “I understand what you’re saying.”

  And the way Katie had been acting was starting to make a lot of sense. In Katie’s way, trying

  to make her believe she was forgetting things was her way of feeling better about her

  miserable situation, and Katie’s husband spent as much time away from her as possible.

  Grace squeezed Mary’s hands and returned to the sink. “I suppose we ought to finish these

  dishes. Then I’d like to go for a walk with you and talk.” Looking over her shoulder at Mary,

  she smiled. “What do you say? For old time’s sake?”

  “Of course, Grace.” She picked up the dishtowel Charity had been using and got ready to dry

  the dishes. “I’m glad we had each other while growing up. You’re the reason I have good

  memories from the time I lived here.”

  She blinked back her tears and nodded. “Me too. Childhood wouldn’t have been the same

  without you.”

  After Mary dabbed her own tears away, she accepted the freshly washed cup Grace handed

  her. Perhaps coming out to Maine hadn’t been so terrible after al . It was nice to get

  reacquainted with her sister. For a moment, she thought it was a shame she couldn’t take

  Grace to Nebraska with her. But then she thought of Calvin and how good he was to her sister

  and their children. No. It was good that Grace would be returning to New Jersey to her happy

  life. Mary wouldn’t wish anything less for her dear sister. Content, she set the cup on the hook

  lining the wal and finished drying the rest of the dishes.

  ***

  Dave woke up in the middle of the night, not sure of what disturbed his slumber. He closed his

  eyes and tried to get back to sleep, but even with Mary in his arms, he remained wide awake.

  With a resigned sigh, he turned his attention to the window and tried to judge the time of night

  by the location of the moon in the sky. He judged it to be a little after midnight.

  He closed his eyes again, not with the intention of sleeping but because he didn’t know what

  else he could do. If it was day, he could get up and do something. But during the night, there

  was nothing to do but wait for morning to come. He rol ed onto his back and counted sheep, as

  his mother had instructed him to do when he was a child and had trouble sleeping.

  As he did, he realized his pulse was racing. It took him a good minute to realize he worried

  about Bert. It’d been about this time last night when he found Bert, drunk as could be with a

  gun.
Did Bert listen to him that morning? Would Bert stop pretending to shoot himself every

  night? What if Bert didn’t pretend next time? What if there were bul ets in the gun?

  Bolting up, Dave threw on his clothes and crossed the smal room to the door. Making sure he

  didn’t wake Mary, he slowly opened the door and stepped outside the room. He softly shut it

  behind him and made his way down the steps. His heart raced with nervous dread. He’d never

  come that close to watching someone commit suicide, but his brother-in-law, Owen, had in his

  time as a deputy. How Owen managed to deal with that scenario, Dave didn’t understand. He

  hadn’t given Owen enough credit in the past for al the things he faced at his job, but he sure did

  now.

  As he made it to the bottom step, he heard someone snoring from the parlor. Stil keeping

  quiet, he inched to the parlor doorway and was relieved to see that Bert was fast asleep on the

  couch. There was no gun. There was a bottle of whisky, but at least there was no gun. Wel ,

  some improvement was better than none. It wasn’t a perfect situation, but it was a start. He’d

  just have to keep the man in his prayers and hope things would work out for the best.

  Dave went to the outhouse, washed up, and returned to the house through the kitchen door.

  On his way by the parlor where Bert was stil sound asleep, Dave almost ran into Katie who

  was standing by the bottom of the staircase. He jerked when he saw her.

  She softly giggled. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

  He stepped back and, realizing she hadn’t bothered to put a robe on over her nightgown,

  averted his eyes from her. “I better get back to Mary.”

  He made a move to pass her so he could go up the stairs, but she quickly blocked his way.

  “There’s no hurry,” she whispered. “It’s not morning yet.”

  His face flushed as her meaning dawned on him. Making eye contact with her, he shook his

  head. “I think it’s best if you remember you’re married.”

  She shrugged and twirled a few strands of hair around her finger. “So?”

  His jaw dropped. “So?”

  “My husband hasn’t touched me in years. I don’t feel married.”

  He glanced at the parlor where Bert stil slept. “Maybe you ought to do something to

  encourage him.”

  She giggled again. “Maybe if he gave me a good reason to, I would.”

  “Whatever problems you’re having with Bert, it’s up to you and Bert to work them out. Now,

  please let me go up the stairs to your sister before I force you out of my way.”

  “You needn’t worry about them. They’re asleep, and it’l be our little secret.”

  She lowered her hands to unbutton her gown, but he clasped his hands around her wrists and

  stopped her. “I advise you to remember your vows. Whether you’re happy or not, you

  promised to forsake al others as long as you and Bert live. And if that doesn’t stop you from

  this foolishness, then you need to remember your son. Give him a mother he can respect.” He

  pushed her out of his way and headed up the stairs.

  Chuckling, she softly cal ed out, “Too bad you didn’t give me your holier than thou speech years

  ago.”

  He gritted his teeth and continued the rest of the way up the steps. He got her meaning. He

  didn’t want to, but he did. If he was right, then Bert knew she’d been unfaithful in the past. As

  far as he was concerned, he knew way too much.

  He entered the bedroom he and Mary were sharing and quietly shut the door. Slipping out of

  his clothes, he joined Mary in bed and drew her to him. He always found comfort in holding

  her. When they first married, he held her at night and was grateful the aching loneliness in his

  life had come to an end. Then when she miscarried, he shared in her sorrow. With the birth of

  their children, he shared in her joy. Then when she lost her memory, he took comfort in

  knowing that even if she might never remember him and their children, she was stil with them

  and would get to know them. Her tender heart would lead her to love them in time, which it

  had. It didn’t take her long to develop a bond with their children and then with him. And now as

  he held her, he was thankful that he could trust her to be faithful to him.

  He’d had enough of being here. The only saving grace in the whole matter was that Mary

  seemed to have come to peace with something she needed to be at peace with while being

  here. He wasn’t exactly sure what that something was, but in the past, she’d been reluctant to

  say anything about her life in Maine and now that wal had been removed. In some ways, it’d

  been healing for her to return, so he couldn’t say the trip had been for nothing.

  Mary stirred in her sleep and settled her head on his chest. Tightening his hold on her, he

  closed his eyes, final y relaxing enough so he could drift off to sleep. The sooner he slept, the

  sooner morning would be here and they could leave. One thing was for sure. He wouldn’t take

  their life back home for granted anymore. He hadn’t appreciated his family enough. Never

  again would he assume al families were like his.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next morning after breakfast, Mary debated whether she should see her mother or not. It

  would be the last time she would, and even with the argument they’d had, it didn’t seem right to

  leave without at least saying good-bye. She turned to Grace who was, once again, helping her

  with the dishes while Katie took care of the dining room.

  “Is Mother so upset with me that she doesn’t want me to tel her good-bye?” Mary dared to ask

  as she washed the last dish in the sink.

  Grace finished drying a plate and put it on the shelf. “You might be asking the wrong question.”

  “Oh?”

  “Maybe you should be asking if you’l regret it if you don’t say good-bye.”

  Mary hadn’t thought of it that way, but she saw the logic in her sister’s reply. She took a deep

  breath. “She’s my mother. I can’t leave without saying good-bye…even if she doesn’t want to

  hear it.”

  Grace nodded. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “You and Calvin wil be at the train station before we leave?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I’d rather go with Dave to Mother’s.” She wondered if he was awake yet. He’d decided

  to sleep through breakfast, something very unlike him. “I should see if he’s up.”

  She quickly finished washing the last dish and handed it to Grace. As Grace took it, she

  headed for the stairs. On her way there, Katie left the dining room and cal ed out to her. She

  turned to face Katie, not surprised that her sister was overly cheerful. With Katie, it was hot or

  cold, and today, she chose hot.

  “It was good to see you again,” Katie said as she came over to her.

  To be polite, Mary smiled. “Thank you for letting me and Dave stay here.”

  “What are sisters for?” Katie hugged her. “I’m sorry you won’t be staying longer, but I

  understand you need to get back to Isaac and Ruth.”

  “Ruth?”

  “Sure. You told me your children were Isaac and Ruth.”

  Mary was ready to tel her that she remembered clearly saying her children were Isaac and

  Rachel but took a good look at her sister and thought of what Grace had told her. It was sad

  that Katie had to play such games in order to feel good about herself. Deciding t
o let the

  matter drop, Mary said, “I better get Dave.”

  As she turned to go to the stairs, she saw that Dave had reached the top of the staircase,

  carrying their carpet bags. Their eyes met and she caught the anxious look in his eyes.

  Figuring it was because he wanted to leave, she went to the hooks by the front door and put on

  her bonnet.

  Bert and Gerald opened the front door with their fishing gear.

  Mary laughed. “You two fish every day?”

  “We sel some of the fish, so it’s also a job,” Bert replied, patting his son on the shoulder. “And

  Gerald catches more than me more often than not.”

  “I want to be like Pa and keep fishing when I grow up,” Gerald said.

  Mary grinned. “That’s a high compliment, Bert. Isaac wants to be like his father, too.” She

  glanced at Dave as he hurried by Katie.

  “He makes me proud,” Bert said, giving his son’s shoulder another pat. “It was nice to meet

  you.”

  She indicated her agreement, and Bert extended his hand to Dave. “And it was nice meeting

  you, Dave.”

  Dave reached Mary’s side, put one of the carpet bags down, and shook his hand. “Nice to

  meet you, too.”

  “Thank you,” Bert added with a glance at his son. “For everything.”

  Dave nodded, released Bert’s hand and put on his hat. Turning to Mary, he picked up the

  carpet bag. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” She thanked Katie and Bert for their hospitality before she left the house, Dave fol owing

  close behind. As they headed down the porch steps, she said, “Grace and Calvin wil see us at

  the train station.” She paused for a moment. “I need to see my mother.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  Taking a few seconds to word her sentence careful y, she final y said, “Because if I don’t, I’l

  know I didn’t give things one last chance to work out between me and her.”

  After what seemed like a long time, he nodded. “I reckon you’re right. Alright. We’l go over to

  her house.”

  The walk to her mother’s was increasingly painful with each step, but she steeled her resolved

  and pressed forward. She could do this. Ignoring the racing of her heart, she went up the

  porch steps to the house she’d grown up in, a place once familiar but now seeming to be a