Her Sister's Child. Cynthia Thomason

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      Cora sighed. “I guess you may be right about Katie needing to see a professional.”

      Relieved that Cora had come around to her way of thinking, Julia sat across from her mother. “I know you were hoping to avoid outside influences at this early stage of her grief. But we have to face the fact that family may not be enough to see Katie through this.” She sighed, staring down into her mug. “Especially when one of those family members is me and I’ve been conspicuously absent for too much of my niece’s life.”

      “Stop blaming yourself for the alienation between you and Tina,” Cora said. “Your sister didn’t do anything to bridge the gap, either. Anyway, you saw her and Katie on holidays. That’s more often than many estranged siblings get together.”

      Cora’s absolution didn’t make Julia feel better. Now that it was too late, she wished she’d tried harder to reconcile with Tina and reestablish the relationship they had enjoyed as kids. But first there had been Cameron, then Wayne, then Tina’s refusal to share the responsibility for family problems…

      Julia shook her head, dispelling the same old destructive thoughts that had kept the sisters apart for years. It was pointless to dwell on regrets. Julia would deal with the past later. Now she had a frightened, grieving little girl on the porch who needed her help. “I’ll check with the elementary school today,” she said. “They must have a counselor who deals with children’s trauma.”

      “While you’re at it, see if you can find someone who can help the older generation.”

      Julia had suggested many times that Cora seek help for her grief over her husband’s death. “You’ve been dealing better with Dad’s passing lately, haven’t you?”

      “I was. But this…I don’t know if I can do it again.”

      “Yeah. It’s a lot, Mama.” Julia paused, her mind struggling to focus on Cora’s problems, but refusing to abandon Katie’s. An idea suddenly occurred to her. “About that bath situation…”

      “What?”

      “I’ve got an idea.” Remembering the prescription she’d tucked into her jeans pocket, Julia said, “I’ve got to go into town and I think I’ll suggest a shopping trip for Katie that just might make her decide a bath isn’t so bad, after all. At least maybe it will be a first step.” She returned to the back door and waited for Katie to look up. “Hey, sweetie.”

      “Hi.” Katie sat placidly.

      “I’ve got to go into Pope’s Drugstore today. You want to come?”

      Katie chewed the inside of her cheek. “I guess.”

      “Bring your bowl and glass inside. We’ll get you dressed and go.”

      Katie shut the book and reached for her dishes. It was a start.

      LINUS POPE, the pharmacist and owner of Pope’s Drugstore came around the counter where countless prescriptions had been filled for Glen Springs residents over several decades. He stuck out his hand when Julia approached. “Well, look who’s here.”

      Julia shook his hand. “How are you doing, Mr. Pope?”

      His eyes were kind when he said, “I should be asking you that.”

      Julia managed a smile. “You heard?”

      He squeezed her hand. “Word travels fast in Glen Springs, both good and bad. Margaret Benson came in the other day and told me.” He passed a hand over thinning gray hair. “A terrible thing, Julia. Just terrible. Especially coming on the heels of Gene’s passing. You ladies have my deepest sympathies.”

      “Thanks.”

      “How’s Cora holding up?”

      “About as well as you’d imagine.”

      “I know she’s thankful you’re home.” With considerable effort because of his arthritis, Mr. Pope got down on one knee and pulled a lollipop from the pocket of his smock. “Nice to see you again,” he said to Katie. “I was wondering if a pretty little girl would come into the store today and take this treat off my hands.”

      Katie waited for Julia to give her the thumbs-up before accepting the gift with a quiet “Thank you.”

      The pharmacist stood, placing his hands on his hips. “Can I help you find anything?”

      Julia handed him the prescription she’d brought from New York for her antidepressants. Mr. Pope glanced at the doctor’s handwriting. It seemed for a moment as though he might comment on the meds, but he wordlessly folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

      “You can point us in the direction of bubble bath,” Julia said, grateful for his discretion. Mr. Pope had known her since she’d been born and no doubt wondered why she was taking the medication. Perhaps he assumed she’d just gotten the prescription to help her deal with Tina’s death. That was fine. He didn’t need to know the truth.

      He pointed down a narrow aisle. “All the bath accessories are over there. You girls have a look.” He raised a corner of the prescription from his pocket. “I’ll have this ready in a few minutes.”

      Julia put her hand on Katie’s shoulder and guided her down the row of shampoos and scented bath oils. When they came to the children’s section, she stopped and affected a great interest in the assortment of colorful plastic bottles. “Look at all these choices,” she said. “Which one do you like best, Katie?”

      The child tentatively pointed to a bottle shaped like a duck. “That one, maybe.”

      Julia took it from the shelf.

      “No, that one.”

      She replaced the duck, reached for a fairy princess bottle on the top shelf and unscrewed the cap. Holding it down for Katie to smell, she said, “What do you think?”

      Katie sniffed. “It smells good.”

      Julia tested it. “Wow, sure does. I think I’ll buy it. Nothing makes me feel better than a good long soak in tons of sweet-smelling bubbles. How about you?”

      Katie hunched one slight shoulder. “I never had a bubble bath.”

      Julia disguised her shock by loading her basket with other items from the shelves. “Then we’ll definitely have to remedy that. We’ll buy some of these kitty-cat soaps, and one of these pink spongy things and this shampoo.”

      Julia set the basket on the counter while Mr. Pope filled her order. “We still have a few minutes,” she said to Katie. “Want to have a drink?”

      “Okay.”

      They went to the soda fountain and Julia helped Katie onto a stool. While she waited for the clerk to take their order, she ran her hand along the smooth Formica surface where, over her lifetime, she’d enjoyed hundreds of vanilla Cokes. Nothing had changed at Pope’s ice cream and drink fountain. The mirror behind the shelf of soda glasses still had a crack in it. The chrome napkin holders still gleamed. Straws dependably popped up when a customer lifted the lid of the heavy glass dispenser.

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