Our Fragile Hearts. Buffy Andrews

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СКАЧАТЬ laughed. “Were you scared of thunder when you were little?”

      I nodded. “Actually, my friend Claire and I spent some time living with an older woman. Her name was Evelyn. You remind me a lot of her, actually. Anyway, one night not long after Claire came to live with us there was a bad storm. Claire and I practically ran into each other when we’d both jumped out of bed to go to the other’s room. We ended up in my bed and we played a game to take our minds off the storm.”

      Mary smiled. “A game?”

      “Yes, sort of. Claire came up with it. She called it the alphabet game. We’d take turns drawing letters on each other’s backs. The one not drawing had to guess what the letter was. E’s and F’s and J’s and I’s were sometimes hard. You really had to pay attention.”

      “Sounds like fun,” Mary said. “And are you and Claire still friends?”

      “Yes. Miss Evelyn’s was the first foster home we were in together. We only got to stay with her once, though. The foster homes that followed weren’t much better than the places we lived in with our moms.”

      Mary’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh, Rachel. I’m so sorry to hear that. Do you live with your mom now?”

      “Oh, no. She died. That’s how Piper came to live with me. Or rather, I moved into the apartment she shared with my mom. I didn’t want Piper to end up in foster care like me. That’s why I dropped out of college so I could take care of her. Working for the cleaning agency allows me a more flexible schedule, which I need if I’m going to be there for Piper.”

      “It’s great that Piper has you,” Mary said.

      “I didn’t even know I had a sister until my mom died. I fled home when I was seventeen, as soon as I graduated from high school. I hated my mom for choosing the bottle over me, for not caring enough to stay sober so my life wouldn’t be a revolving door of foster homes.”

      Mary hadn’t taken her eyes off mine. And in those eyes I saw shock and pity.

      Mary sighed. “I’m sorry you had such a difficult childhood. I never lived in a foster home, but I didn’t have an easy time growing up. My father was very strict and, to be perfectly honest, he was a mean man. I was always amazed by how nicely he treated Mother and me when we were out in public. Everyone thought we had the perfect family. But they didn’t see what went on behind closed doors.”

      “Sounds like we both got shortchanged on childhood,” I said. “So, yeah, like you said. Enjoy the little moments because they don’t last forever. Just like the fringes on your tree.”

      Mary smiled. “That tree is probably my favorite spring-flowering tree. I love the Bradford pear trees lining the driveway and the weeping cherry trees circling the gazebo. And the dogwoods and saucer magnolias are pretty, too. But there’s something so dainty and fragile about a fringe tree. What’s your favorite tree, Rachel?”

      “I like willow trees. My neighbor had a willow tree in her backyard and we used to play under its draping branches. The shade was nice, especially on a really hot day.”

      Mary shifted on the sofa. “Willow trees always reminded me of umbrellas. Or fireworks. What do they remind you of, Rachel?”

      “Pom-poms. Like the kind cheerleaders use.”

      Mary arched her thin eyebrows, which had been noticeably filled in with brow pencil. “So you were a cheerleader?”

      I rolled my eyes. “Fat chance. But I wanted to be. Never made the team. I’m about as coordinated as a moose walking in high heels.”

      Mary laughed and returned to talking about trees. “Have you ever seen the giant sequoias in California?”

      I shook my head. “I’ve never been outside of Pennsylvania.”

      “My, are they big! And old. Thousands of years old.”

      Mary’s eyes turned glassy and I wondered if I should change the subject. But she continued.

      “Flies might live for days, tortoises and whales for hundreds of years, and trees, like the giant sequoias, for thousands of years. But eventually, they all die. No living thing, no animal or plant, can escape death.”

      I listened as Mary poured some more tea. I wondered where she was going with this.

      “So often in life we witness beauty too short-lived. Like the fringe tree. We wonder why the fringes can’t hang forever. Maybe what we should ask is why we didn’t enjoy the beauty while we had the chance.”

      I mashed my lips together, considering whether to wade into the conversation. “It’s human nature, I think, to believe there’ll always be another day.”

      “True,” Mary said. “But sometimes there isn’t. Sometimes wicked weather slams us unexpectedly and we’re caught off guard, standing in the drenching rain and rising water. Oh, I know everything in life has its own season – a time to be born and a time to die. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing the seasons could last longer.”

      I sat my teacup on the cherry coffee table. Mary was making me uncomfortable. It was as if she was delivering a sermon meant just for me.

      “Would you like more, dear?”

      “No, thank you.”

      “Rachel, I’m sorry. Sometimes I get carried away in poetic mumbo jumbo. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.”

      I held up my hand. “No. You’re fine. Everything’s fine. It’s just that I thought you wanted me to clean.”

      “Another day. But today I just wanted to talk, to get to know you a little. Can you come tomorrow to clean?”

      “I’m sorry. I have another house to clean tomorrow.”

      “Can you come the next day?”

      I checked the calendar on my phone. “Yes, that will work.”

      “Excellent. We can have lunch together.”

      “That won’t be necessary.”

      As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. Mary looked like she was about to cry.

      “Unless you want to, of course,” I quickly added.

      “Well, you have to eat, right?”

      I nodded. “But please don’t go to a lot of trouble.”

      “Oh, it’s no trouble. It’ll be nice cooking for someone for a change. Do you like tilapia?”

      “That’s fish, right? I don’t like fish.”

      “Oh, you must try tilapia sometime,” Mary said. “It’s mild. Doesn’t have that strong fishy taste. What’s your favorite food?”

      “That’s easy. Steak. But I rarely have it because it’s so expensive. I eat a lot of pasta and hamburgers.”

      Mary nodded. “I like steak, too. What’s Piper’s СКАЧАТЬ