Chaste (McCullough Mountain) (39 page)

“Yeah.”
He stepped aside and she rushed in, quickly shutting the door. The bathroom was
simple. There was a shower with only a clear curtain liner hung. After washing
up, she rinsed out her mouth and sighed at her hair. Wrapping the sheet around
her toga style, she left the bathroom.

Kelly
had already folded the blankets and replaced the cushions to the couch. “You
ready to go?”

He
sure seemed in a rush. “Okay. I just need to get dressed.”

“How
about I meet you downstairs? There’s cereal and milk there.”

“Sounds
good.”

With
quick instructions to lock the door behind her, he left. She certainly hoped
married life wouldn’t feel so rushed in the mornings.

They
had breakfast and Kelly drove her home. He had to work later that day and she
had a number of things to do in her garden and at the market. She thought about
the McCulloughs and wondered how everyone reacted when they realized they were
gone. Kelly would probably get an earful when he got home.

* * * *

As
the wedding approached, Ashlynn noticed strange little differences in her life.
She’d always been a responsible person, never having a mom to do what most
houses needed, but as time went on she realized the people that made up her
world had held something back. She was suddenly feeling more like an adult than
ever before. It was as though there was a new level of respect granted she
hadn’t realized was missing before.

Everything
was changing. Her father looked at her a little different and she wasn’t sure
how to decipher the gleam in his eyes. Women gawked at her, likely shocked that
she was the one who wrangled a proposal out of the notorious Kelly McCullough.

It
was as if she’d stepped into a circle she never should’ve been invited to. All
of her life she’d stood on the outside looking in, but now she was smack dab on
the arm of the most popular boy. Somehow she’d become the Sandra Dee of Center
County.

Later
that week, Ashlynn let herself into her father’s house, not wanting to perform
her next task in the presence of others. From the window in the den she saw the
cloud of dust kicking up behind the tractor in the field and knew Roy would be
out for at least another hour.

She
dropped her keys on the small table in the hall and took the stairs slowly.
When she reached the attic door, her fingers held the knob a moment before she
twisted. The old wooden door clicked and whined and she was greeted by the
scent of dust and time.

A
beam of sunlight highlighted small motes floating in the air. Her feet climbed
the winding stairs and once she reached the top she spotted the trunks that
held what was left of her mother’s life on earth.

Her
hand gripped an old stepstool and dragged it to the trunk. Lowering herself,
she took a deep breath. Beneath the peaked, exposed beams of the soffit she
waited for a sense of her mother’s ghost to greet her, but only vague flickers
of broken memories passed through.

Her
fingers turned the latch and the trunk popped open. She lifted the lid, stamped
with bus passes and political brochures before her time. Her eyes first settled
on the faded album resting at the top.

Ashlynn
pulled the heavy book to her lap and blew a cloud of dust off the photograph
displayed in the front frame. There was her mother.

She
smiled softly, her fingers gently tracing the image of the woman she missed
more than anything and thought of everyday. The spine of the old album creaked
as she turned the cover.

Her
gaze traveled over pictures of grandparents she’d never known. Each page told
the tale of happy moments that meant enough to her mother that she’d trapped
them on film and locked them in their own corner of time.

When
she reached the page with a picture of her mother and father, she smiled. They
were so young. In Roy’s eyes there was a mischievous glint that Ashlynn didn’t
recognize as her father’s. Her mother looked euphoric and in love.

When
she found a picture from their wedding, Ashlynn studied the dress her mother
wore. It was simple and white. A fitted bodice that flared slightly at the
waist with delicate capped sleeves.

Following
the wedding photos came the arrival of her. Black and whites changed to faded
colors, her mother with a swollen belly smiling into the camera. Certain
photographs told Ashlynn her father had been the photographer. There was a
telltale gleam in her mother’s eyes that spoke of intimacy and secrets.

And
there she was, a small bundle of pink in her mother’s arms. Such pride and
affection showed through her mother’s expression. Ashlynn’s fingers caressed
the image, wishing she could hear her mother’s voice just one more time.

Their
lives as a family were cataloged in that book until Ashlynn’s tenth birthday.
That was around the time they lost her, taken by a drunk driver. Those empty,
yellowed pages at the end of the book were so symbolic of the time after her
mother died.

Years
passed in a blur of nothingness. There was always a sense of guilt when
something would make her and her father laugh, a shared look that said they
wished she were still with them.

The
pictures of Ashlynn prior to her teen years were of a girl she barely
recognized. Her legs were always adorned with little ruffled socks. Her feet
neatly encased in patent leather shoes. Ashlynn had the strangest memory of
slips and petticoats being slid under her Sunday dresses. Her eyes closed as
she recalled waiting patiently for her mother to braid her hair.

With
her mother, those feminine traditions had died. Her father was a good man and a
good parent. He did the best he could, replacing tea parties with things he
knew, like fishing and shooting. He taught her many skills and she’d held onto
what she could of her mother.

Ashlynn
never learned to sew like her mom. She was taken from them before Ashlynn
formed the interest, but the intent was there. Promises cut down before their
chance to bloom.

Ashlynn
fanned through the empty pages and frowned when she saw a faded envelope stuck
to the back cover. She peeled the tan packet from beneath the clear sticky
sheet and recognized her mother’s script.
To Ashlynn Rose, on your wedding
day.

With
trembling fingers, she peeled back the lip of the envelope. Lined paper, faded
at the edges, filled her hands and tightness pinched hard on her heart.

Ashlynn
carefully unfolded the note and read.

To
my darling daughter,

As
I hold you in my arms, still too small to predict the incredible woman you will
become, I think of all the wonderful things ahead of you. In this life there
are many blessings. You and your father are by far my most cherished.

I
find myself praying more than usual as I see the proof of God’s love all around
me. It is shown in the love your father has given and the existence of you.
There is such an awakening that comes with having a child. It grows slowly as a
new life takes shape. And then one day, a beautiful part of two people’s love
arrives and everything is forever changed.

What
was once I, is now us. What was once mine, is now ours. You are the blending of
souls and I never want you to doubt how very much I love you and your father. I
think of how he has changed me, taught me, guided me, and given me you. If
there’s one thing I want you to trust in this world, it’s the whispers of your
heart.

Do
not fear love, sweet Ashlynn. Embrace it. Love is perhaps the greatest gift of
God. One day you will be a woman and you will find a man. I hope that he is a
good man, as good as your father. You will experience love. It’s not always
easy, but as you grow you will surrender to its tides and it will carry you
places you’ve never dreamed. And from that love, life will bloom and that is
when you will feel what it is I feel today, holding you in my arms.

I
have so many hopes and dreams for you. I await the day you take your first
steps, the day I hear your first words. I look forward to those awkward moments
that will come when you ask me questions and I struggle to find the right
answers. There is so much I look forward to. One day you will be a woman and I
will be there with pride in my eyes.

There’s
so much I wish to say, but I have a lifetime to sow these seeds of thoughts and
dreams. For now, know that I love you more than anything and I will love you
long after my last breath. No matter how time changes us and how we grow, you
will always be my baby and I am so grateful God has blessed me with you.

Love,

Mom

The
paper crinkled with Ashlynn’s fallen tears. Why had she not known of this
letter until now? Perhaps even her father was not aware of its existence.
Perhaps God had intended for her to find it here in this special moment in her
life.

She
pressed the pages, made brittle by time, to her chest and the closeness of her
mother’s presence she sought for so long washed over her. Although her mother
might not be there in body, Ashlynn truly believed she was there in spirit.

With
tender care, she folded the letter and returned it to its place in the back of
the album for safekeeping. She sifted through the trunk filled with relics of
her mother’s life, but didn’t find what she was seeking.

Sitting
back on her stool, she folded her hands and whispered, “Show me where it is.”

Her
eyes closed and warmth spread over her face from the small window at the peak
of the attic, much like when the clouds roll overhead letting bits of sunshine
through. She opened her eyes and noticed a blue box sitting in a puddle of
light. Moving to the box, she lifted the lid and heat spread in her chest.
There it was. Her mother’s wedding gown.

Ashlynn
closed the box and shut the trunk. She carried the musty parcel to her
childhood bedroom and when she was shut away with only her thoughts and the
dress, she lifted the lid and pulled the lace gown from the tissue.

* * * *

The
phone rang and Kelly plucked it off the counter. “O’Malley’s Bar and Grill.”

“Kelly?”

“Ashlynn?
What’s wrong?” Was she crying?

“I
need Italian Mary.”

“Okay.
Did you find your mom’s dress?”

“Yes,”
she sobbed. “It’s a mess.”

“Okay,
calm down. Come to the pub and I’ll see what I can do. Don’t drive upset.”

She
sniffled. “Thanks, Kelly.”

His
heart pinched. Ashlynn upset was like watching a puppy drown. He could take
many things, but not that. “We’ll fix it, love. I promise we’ll fix it.”

He
hung up the phone and dialed his Aunt Colleen. “Aunt Col? It’s Kelly. I need a
favor.”

“Oh,
now you’re wantin’ favors, but the other night you couldn’t be bothered with
the lot of us.”

“Please.”

She
sighed. “You know I can’t say no to you, darling boy. What is it you’ll be
needing?”

“I
need to borrow Italian Mary.”

The
line was silent for a pregnant moment. “Well, that’s a request you don’t hear
too often.”

A
while later Kelly watched the door of the pub while his aunt puttered in the
kitchen and Italian Mary sat at the booth in the back, her weathered olive face
set in harsh lines and her black hair pulled tight into a sort of old world
bonnet sewn of black lace. Her red lips and ruby covered fingers glittered under
the dim light of the pub.

The
door opened and Ashlynn stepped in carrying a faded blue velvet gift box. He
went to her and kissed her softly, taking the box. “How bad is it?”

Her
eyes were pink and lined with stress. “I don’t know if it can be fixed.”

“Come
with me,” he said, taking her hand. They approached Italian Mary. The woman
scowled at Ashlynn like she scowled at every female that dared to tempt her
boys.

“Nonna,
this is Ashlynn, my fiancée.”

Italian
Mary scrutinized Ashlynn from head to toe. She was the smallest, most
intimidating woman he’d ever met. She muttered words in Italian he was glad he
didn’t understand. Then, in the irritated tone she always used when she
recalled none of them spoke a lick of Italian, she said, “Sit down, child.”

He
nudged Ashlynn and she slid into the booth.

Italian
Mary glared up at him and snapped, “Go away, Kelly. This is women talk.”

He
was reluctant to leave, but did as he was told. Sliding the box between them,
Kelly kissed Ashlynn’s head and went to find his aunt.

Colleen
was waiting at the cook window taking in the scene. “Should I be scared?” he
asked.

Aunt
Colleen smiled, but didn’t take her gaze from the booth in the back. “Your
fiancée’s nothin’ like I expected, Kelly.”

“I
know. She’s prettier than the rest.”

Colleen
was his favorite aunt. She always seemed to see something in him the others
missed. To her, he was not a lost cause philandering his life away. He was a
success waiting to happen.