“What am I going to do without you, Mom?” Lorraine said into the stillness of the night, her eyes welling with tears. It surprised her that she had any left.
She mulled over everything she’d done that had been a disappointment to her mother. She’d dropped out of medical school after her second year and trained as a nurse-practitioner, instead. Virginia had said little, but Lorraine knew her mother regretted that decision. She liked to think she’d made up for it when she met Gary, who sold medical supplies to Group Wellness, where Lorraine worked.
The fact that she’d become a lapsed Catholic had distressed her mother, as well, but Lorraine had never identified with the church the way Virginia had. She attended a nondenominational Christian church, but her mother would have preferred she remain Catholic.
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” she whispered, knowing she’d let her mother down in countless other ways.
When she’d finished her emotional journey through the house, Lorraine had taken a hot shower and changed into a nightgown, one she’d bought Virginia the previous Christmas. After giving the matter some thought, she’d chosen to sleep in her mother’s room, rather than her own. When she was frightened as a child, she’d always climbed into her mother’s bed. Lorraine was frightened now, afraid of the future, afraid to be without Virginia, without family.
As she lay there sleepless, she gathered her memories around her, finding consolation in the happiness they’d experienced. Day-to-day life had been full of shared pleasures, like cooking elaborate meals together, watching the classic movies they both loved, exchanging favorite books. Virginia also worked for several church-sponsored charities, and Lorraine sometimes spent an evening helping her pack up boxes of food for needy families, or stuffing envelopes. Her mother had been a wonderful woman, and Lorraine was proud of her. She’d been devout in her faith, hardworking, kindhearted. Smart, but generous, too.
After an hour or so, Lorraine gave up even trying to sleep. She sat up and reached for the framed photograph of her parents, which rested on the nightstand. The picture showed Virginia as young and beautiful, wearing a full, ankle-length dress with a wreath of wildflowers on her head. Her long straight hair fell nearly to her waist. She held a small bouquet of wildflowers in one hand; with the other hand she clasped her husband’s. Her eyes had been bright with happiness as she smiled directly into the camera.
The Thomas Dancy in the picture was tall and bearded, and wore his hair tied in a ponytail. He gazed at his bride with an identical look of love and promise. Anyone who saw the photograph could tell that the two of them had been deeply in love.
As recently as last weekend, when they’d been discussing Lorraine’s wedding plans, she’d teased her mother about the photo, calling her parents “flower children.” Virginia had been good-natured about it and merely said, “That was a long time ago.”
Sadly this photograph was the only one Lorraine had of her parents together. Everything else had been destroyed in a fire when she was in grade school. Lorraine remembered the fire, not realizing until years later all that she’d lost. Her parents’ photographs and letters, her father’s medals…
Lorraine knew that Virginia O’Malley had met Thomas Dancy her freshman year in college and they’d quickly fallen in love. The war in Vietnam had separated them when her father volunteered for the army in 1970. He’d survived the war and come home a hero. It was a year later, during a routine physical, that something unusual had shown up in his blood work. That something had turned out to be leukemia. Within six months, Thomas was dead and Virginia was a young widow with a child.
Virginia’s parents had helped financially for many years, but both of Lorraine’s maternal grandparents had died in the early eighties. Her father’s relatives were unknown to her. Her mother had one younger brother, but he’d gotten involved with drugs and alcohol, and communication between them had been infrequent at best. The last time Virginia had heard from her brother was five years ago, when he’d phoned her asking for money to make bail. Virginia had refused. Lorraine’s only cousin lived someplace in California, and she hadn’t seen or heard from her since the summer she was thirteen.
In other words, Lorraine was alone. Completely and utterly alone.
The phone startled her, and she whirled around to grab the receiver. “Hello,” she said breathlessly, uncertain who to expect.
Gary. “Just checking to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m okay,” she told him.
“You want me to come over?”
“No.” Why can’t you just accept that I need this time by myself? His attitude upset her. This wasn’t like Gary.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone,” he said. He’d told her this earlier, more than once. “I know it’s all a terrible shock, but the last thing you should do now is isolate yourself.”
“Gary, please. I buried my mother this afternoon. I…I don’t have anyone else.”
Her words were met with an awkward pause. “You have me,” he said in a small hurt voice.
She regretted her thoughtlessness and at the same time resented his intrusion. “I know how that must have seemed and I’m sorry. But everything’s still so painful. I need a chance to adjust.”
“Have you decided to sell the house?” Gary asked.
Lorraine wondered why everyone was so concerned about what she did with the house. “I…don’t know yet.”
“It makes sense to put it on the market, don’t you think?”
She closed her eyes and sought answers. “I can’t make that kind of decision right now. Give me time.”
She must have sounded impatient because Gary was immediately contrite. “You’re right, darling, it’s too soon. We’ll worry about it later. Promise you’ll phone if you need me?”
“I promise,” she whispered.
After a few words of farewell, she ended the call. As she replaced the receiver, her gaze fell on the clock radio. She was shocked to discover it was only nine o’clock. It felt more like midnight. She lay back down and stared up at the ceiling, letting her thoughts creep into the future. Her mother wouldn’t be at her wedding, wouldn’t be there for the births of her grandchildren. Virginia Dancy had looked forward to becoming a grandmother; now her grandchildren would never know her.