Authors: Terri DuLong
Tags: #Fashion, #Art, #Secrets, #Juvenile Fiction, #Clothing & Dress, #City & Town Life, #Schoolgirls, #Fashion designers, #Identity, #Secrecy, #Schools, #Girls & Women, #Fiction, #School & Education, #Lifestyles, #Identity (Psychology), #Cedar Key (Fla.), #Romance, #Knitting, #Contemporary Women, #Motherhood, #Contemporary, #General
A
s we approached the Number Four Bridge onto Cedar Key, I glanced out the car window to see the sun shining on the water like glittering jewels. Smaller islands dotted here and there for as far as the eye could see. Pelicans swooped and dove into the water, their clumsy antics causing me to smile.
Thank you,
I silently whispered.
Thank you for this beautiful slice of paradise where I call home and thank you for Clarissa coming into my life. Please let her get better and come home to us.
Adam pulled into our driveway and I let out a deep sigh. Our house had never looked so good to me. Walking inside, it felt like we'd been gone much longer than just four days. So much had happened in that short time.
Putting down our luggage on the kitchen floor, I found a note from Dora written that morning.
Dear Monica and Adam,
Billie is fine with me, so when you get home, get some rest and call me when you get a chance. I put a seafood casserole in the fridge for you. All you have to do is heat it in the microwave. And there's fresh-baked biscuits to go with it on the counter. I love you both.
Aunt Dora
I smiled as I turned and saw the basket covered with a tea towel.
Adam read the note over my shoulder and gave me a squeeze. “That was nice of her. I'm going to hop in the shower and then we can have a bite to eat.”
“Good idea, and I'll shower when we're done. Then I guess we should listen to Dr. Sutton and try and get some sleep.”
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Although I wasn't sure I'd be able to sleep, I must have drifted off as soon as Adam and I got into bed and I curled up in his arms.
I awoke and saw the bedside clock read five-thirty and was surprised that I'd actually slept for six uninterrupted hours. That was a good sign, I thought. No phone calls about Clarissa. She must still be okay. I glanced over to see Adam still sleeping and carefully got out of bed, not waking him.
After getting on my robe and using the bathroom, I tiptoed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind me.
I prepared the coffeemaker and then dialed Dora's number.
“Oh, Monica, it's so good to hear from you. Did you and Adam get some sleep?”
“Yes, I managed to get six hours and Adam's still sleeping. Thank you for the casserole and biscuits. They were delicious. You didn't hear anything about Clarissa, did you? Nobody's called here.”
“Opal called to tell me they got her started on the correct antibiotic this morning and then she called around four o'clock to say that Clarissa was awake for a little while.”
“She was? How is she?”
“Opal said she was a little groggy, but other than that, she seemed okay. Opal told her that you and Adam had been there all night and you'd gone home for a while but would be back this evening. She said Clarissa smiled, asked if she could hear the music again, and drifted back to sleep. Opal said you left a music box there for her?”
“Yes, I bought it for her in Augusta and I wanted her to have it now.”
“Well, she seems to really love the music from it. If she keeps improving like this, I think she's going to be okay, Monica.”
“God, I hope so.”
“By the way, I left something at your house. It was entrusted to me before Sybile died.”
“What?” I said with surprise. “What on earth is it?”
“It's a letter, from Sybile to you.”
“A letter? What's it say?”
“Oh, I don't know. It's sealed and your name is on the envelope. I was specifically told by Sybile to give it to youâwhen you became a mother. That's exactly how she said it to me, not when you had your first child or when you were pregnant, but when you
became a mother
and she said that I would know when that time was. I think that time is now, Monica. I've watched you with Clarissa for almost a year and there isn't any doubt in my mindâyou have truly become a mother and I think you need to have Sybile's letter.”
Tears burned my eyes as I recalled my doubts of that morning at the hospital. “Oh, I don't know,” I said. “I was beginning to think maybe I had the strength after all, but going through this with Clarissa, I've been so frightened. I just don't knowâ¦.”
“Well,
I
know. Being frightened for your child does not make you any less of a mother. If anything, it increases that ability. It's only natural to fear losing your child, but you can't let that fear consume you to the point where you turn aside from motherhood. And that fear, Monicaâit never goes away. But you learn to let go of it a little at a time, especially when your children are small. Because that letting go is what enables them to grow and become who they're supposed to be. But the worryâI won't lie. A mother never stops worrying about her child. That goes with the territory. So you may as well get used to it now.”
I smiled. Leave it to Aunt Dora to set things right. “I see what you're saying. Where's the letter?”
“I put it on your desk in your studio. I hope whatever Sybile has to say will comfort you.”
“Thanks, Dora, and thanks for giving it to me now. I love you. I'm going to go read it.”
I poured coffee into a mug and took it to my studio. Sitting at the desk, I saw the cream-colored envelope with Sybile's familiar bold handwriting.
For my granddaughter, Monica
she'd written on the front.
Picking it up, I sat holding it for a few minutes, recalling the first time I'd met her at the Lighthouse. She'd made it clear immediately that I was not to call her
Grandma,
and within a short time I'd come up with the nickname of Billie for her, which she loved. I also remembered how she'd questioned me about the fellow I was dating at the time, asking very pointed questions, and when I finished, she'd asked with a straight face, “Yeah, but is he good in bed?”
I smiled as I reached for the letter opener to unseal the envelope. Sybile was a character, no doubt about it. She gave off a crusty exterior, but inside there was a mellowness that drew me to her from the moment we'd first met.
Removing the cream-colored pages, I began to read.
My dearest Monica,
If you're reading this letter then it means you are now a mother and that I have a great-grandchild. I was very specific to Dora about when to give this letter to you. As your other grandmother so aptly proved, one does not have to give birth in order to become a mother. So no matter how it occurred, you now have a child as you read this.
When you learned the story concerning your mother's adoption, you never once held it against me for making that choice. And for that, I thank you.
However, I also got the feeling that perhaps you thought, like me, motherhood wasn't to be part of your life. You could have been right, because I do strongly believe that not every woman is cut out to be a mother. But if you're reading this letter, something changed your mind to make you feel otherwise and for that, I'm very grateful.
No, I still do not have any regrets for giving your mother up for adoption. It was the right thing to do for me. However, with my days now limited, the one thing I do regret is not having enough time to spend with both you and your mother.
I know how independent you've always beenâa trait that we both shared. And I know that you admired this trait in me. Perhaps that was why you were so easy to accept my decision about your mother's adoption. However, I need you to know the truth. I need you to know that while I may have been independent and followed my own path, I was never brave about it.
Perhaps a quote from Mahatma Gandhi will help you to better understand what I'm saying. “A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.”
I allowed a deep and true love with Saren to be wasted because I was a coward. I wasn't willing to take a chance, even after my modeling career failed. If I was alone, I couldn't be hurt. I wasn't brave enough to show love and risk the pain that might go with it. Instead, I chose to spend many lonely years both without my daughter and without the love of my life.
But you, my darling granddaughter, not only are you independent, but you have the wonderful trait of being brave. And because you're reading this letter, you have proved that. You have chosen to risk the pain and exhibit love by becoming a mother. And I am so very proud of you.
So hold on to the strength that you possess, grow from your mistakes, love like you've never been loved before, and every now and againâthink of me. Because I will always be with you, Monica, and I will always love you.
Billie (your grandmother)
I wiped the tears from my eyes and let out a deep sigh. My grandmother was a very wise woman, and even in death she was sharing that wisdom with me. She was right. If you don't open yourself up to love, you can never be hurt. Is that why I ran from so many relationships? And is that why when I met Adam I knew I couldn't run anymore, because if I did, I'd be giving up that one great love of my life? And was it easier for me to claim I had no mothering traits because I certainly wouldn't be subjecting myself to possible heartache and pain if I remained childless?
And then Clarissa walked into my life and changed the way I felt about everything. Just like her father had done.
I slipped the pages back into the envelope and left it on the desk as I heard Adam calling from the kitchen.
“Hey,” I said, walking into his embrace. “Get enough sleep?”
“I did. I feel like a new person. No calls about Clarissa?”
“No, but I take that to be good news. It's six-thirty. Let's get dressed and head back to the hospital.”
Adam nodded. “Don't you want something to eat before we go?”
“I'm not that hungry, but let me get you a cup of coffee. We can get something at the hospital cafeteria.”
“Good idea.”
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We walked into the ICU to see Dr. Sutton talking to Clarissa's nurse at the nurses' station. He turned, holding up a finger to us, and then resumed going over a chart with the nurse.
Coming toward us, he actually had a smile on his face. “Well, you two certainly look a bit more rested, and I think you'll be very pleased with the difference in Clarissa. That antibiotic seems to be doing the trick. She's not being sedated anymore and has been awake for a few hours now.” He looked at Adam. “Your mother's been in there with her, and she and her friend just left a few minutes ago to grab something to eat in the cafeteria.”
I felt Adam reach for my hand and give it a squeeze. Hearing the doctor's words sent a jolt of happiness through me.
“God, that's wonderful news. Does this mean Clarissa's going to be okay?” Adam questioned.
“I'd say yes. She's over the hump now. Still pretty weak, but that will just take time. She'll only continue to improve with the antibiotic, and I think by Friday we'll be able to move her to a regular floor.”
Adam put out his hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much for everything you've done.”
“Yes,” I said. “God, we can't thank you enough.”
“Well, that little girl is very much loved, and I'd have to say that love played a huge part in getting her through this.”
“Is there anything we could have done to prevent her from catching it?” Adam asked.
“You mean like a vaccine? Actually, there's a fairly new one out called Manactra. But I'm afraid it wouldn't have helped in Clarissa's case. The CDC recommends it be given to children ages eleven to eighteen, and at nine, Clarissa wasn't a candidate to receive it.”
Adam nodded. “And once she comes home, is there anything we need to be watching for? Symptoms or anything that might cause a problem?”
I saw a brief look of concern cross Dr. Sutton's face. “I'll go over all of this with you in more detail before she's released, but you will have to have routine hearing tests done on Clarissa for a while. Unfortunately, deafness can be a residual effect of meningitis. But you don't need to concern yourself with this now. Chances are she'll be fine. You'll just want to keep a check on it.”
“Can we go in to see her?” Adam asked.
“Absolutely. If you have any other questions, just call me and I'll see you here over the next few days to give you updates.”
Hand in hand, Adam and I walked into the ICU and paused at the cubicle where Clarissa was.
The doctor was right. Already she'd begun to look better. The oxygen mask was no longer on her face. Her bed had been raised to a semireclined position and even her face seemed to have more color. Her eyes were closed and we stood there watching, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Almost as if she could feel our presence, her eyes fluttered open and she saw us. A smile crossed her face as we went to the bedside, each of us taking a turn to lean over and kiss her.
“So,” Adam said. “You've had a time of it. How're you feeling, sweetheart?”
“Tired. How long have I been here?”
I brushed her bangs back from her forehead. “Since yesterday morning. It's Tuesday evening.”
“Oh, no, because I got sick you had to come back from Augusta early?”
I reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You silly goose. We wouldn't have been anywhere else.”
“Monica's right. As soon as we got the call from Grandma yesterday afternoon, we were on our way back here. Are you having pain anywhere?”
Clarissa shook her head gently. “Not anymore. I had a real bad headache the other day and then a stiff neck, and I was so tired. When I got the fever, Grandma thought it might be the flu so she called the doctor and he said we should get to the hospital right away.” Clarissa paused for a second before going on. “I was scared.”