A Gathering of Memories (7 page)

When she finally turned to the task of dressing she did so quickly, with little thought as to how she might look. In the corner stood a full-length mirror. Mandy stepped in front of it with the intent of taking a quick peek. She knew if she dawdled overly long Amy would have to go to the bother of looking for her. They were all being trouble enough.

Unexpectedly her own reflection stopped all haste. Never before had she worn a dress that fit her so well. It was just slightly loose at the waist, but the length and shoulder cuts were perfect. Mandy’s eyes traveled to her flat chest. Amy was not what you would consider full-figured, but Mandy without a spare inch of flesh anywhere on her, including her breasts, found herself wishing that her body filled out that part of the dress a little more, like Amy’s did.

“Does it fit? Wow, Mandy!” The question and exclamation both came from Carrie, who popped her head in the bedroom door.

“Does it look okay?”

“Yeah, it looks really nice. I think the nicest you’ve ever looked.”

“I’m glad. I wonder if Mama would be pleased.”

“She would be, Mandy. Mama always wanted more for us than she could give. Mandy, is that why we came here, because you thought Mama would want it?”

“Yes, that’s part of the reason. I mean, I couldn’t stand the thought of us all being separated.”

“Yeah, that would be awful. What’s the other reason?”

She thought for a moment. “I don’t know if I can put it into words. It was just like I
had
to accept Silas’ offer, almost like something inside of me wouldn’t let me say no. Does that make any sense?”

“I think so. Anyway, I’m glad you did. I think our house is scary without Mama there and who knows when Pa will be back.”

“Amy wants to know if she needs to press your dress, Mandy, or abust the hem,” Becca interrupted from the doorway.

“I think she means adjust the hem, Becca.”

“Yeah, adjust the hem.”

“Please tell her we’re coming.”

Becca, preening with importance, skipped back out of the room to deliver the message.

10

 

Mandy could not tear her eyes off the plain pine box that held her mother’s body. It was all so final. It didn’t matter to her that the burial was taking place on the poor side of the cemetery, the side where the weeds grew high and no one could afford engraved stones or monuments. All that mattered was that her mother was gone.
Gone.
The word seemed to choke the breath from her and she groped for her sister’s hand, not even noticing a hand much larger than Carrie’s covered hers and held it tight.

Ross felt his throat clog upon the contact, something he had not expected. He knew very well that she had meant to reach for her sister but in her grief, he was sure, she reached to her left and he was there. There was no thought or hesitation, she reached and he responded, taking her small, cold, very thin hand in his own. He wasn’t even sure why he had ended up standing so close to her, but when everyone had gathered around the gravesite, next to the Jackson children was where he found himself.

Not that anyone else in the circle knew them any better than he did, with the exception of Silas and Amy, or so Grandma Em had explained. They were so new to the group and the circumstances that brought them into the family so painful. It certainly wasn’t expected of Silas to parade them around for introductions.

Pastor Nolan spoke words of comfort and hope, but Ross sincerely doubted if anything he said would alleviate the look of hopelessness he read on Amanda Jackson’s face.

The casket was now being lowered into the ground and he felt a tremor run through her. Ross caught movement out of the corner of his eye, as Amanda’s sister turned to cling to her oldest sibling. It wasn’t until the moment she dropped his hand that he was certain she hadn’t even been aware of holding it.

Carrie and Mandy clung to one another, vaguely aware of Rebecca in Amy’s arms and Silas with the boys.
She’s really gone and we’re alone.
The words wouldn’t stop screaming inside Mandy’s head.

It was customary for the family of the deceased to throw handfuls of dirt on top of the casket but none of the Jackson children were aware of this or would have done so, even if they had been. The burying of their mother was something that had to be done, but they wanted nothing to do, even symbolically, with the actual act.

Silas sensed a need to remove his adopted family from the gravesite. Amy moved to stand near the boys, Becca’s arms around her neck, while Silas came up behind Mandy and Carrie.

“We can go now if you’d like.”

“Can we really?” Mandy whispered. “We don’t need to stay until everyone is gone?”

“No, everyone knows you’re hurting. Ross will take you to the wagon. Amy and I will be right behind you.”

Silas had flicked a glance at Ross as he’d said the words and no other action was necessary. Silas turned them gently from the grave and Ross immediately stepped over and put his hand beneath Mandy’s elbow. Neither she nor Carrie seemed to really be aware of him.

He’d just lifted Carrie to the rear seat beside Mandy when Aaron Marks, one of Baxter’s businessmen, stepped up to Mandy’s side of the wagon.

“I’m sorry Miss Jackson. I won’t be coming to Mrs. Cameron’s, but I wanted to express my sympathy. I never met
your mother, but your father and I have had business dealings.”

“You know our pa?” At the mention of her father, Mandy became instantly attentive to the portly, ruddy-faced man.

“Yes I do, though I admit I haven’t seen him for a spell.”

“He’s been away.”

“You wouldn’t have heard from him by chance, would you?” The question was stated with casual aplomb.

“Just a letter to Mama earlier, during the winter.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll be off now.” He departed rather swiftly, without acknowledgement to Ross or anyone else who was now aboard the full wagon. Ross and Silas exchanged a brief look over Marks’ odd behavior, but no one observed it as Silas put the team into motion.

Mandy was a little disappointed that Mr. Marks had mentioned her pa without any news of his whereabouts. The letter, she remembered, was at least six months old, and though she’d never read it her mother had said he was out west somewhere. Mandy realized that she’d forgotten the small bundle of papers in her mother’s dresser. She decided to walk home tomorrow and get them. Maybe she should leave a note for Pa while she was there.

An hour later Ross left Grandma Em’s crowded parlor and headed out the kitchen door to the back porch steps. Rebecca, Clovis, and Levi, all on the top step, slid over to let him pass. Ross stepped by them, but rather than going into the backyard, sank down onto the second step and turned to face them.

“Hi,” Clovis said.

“Hi,” Ross responded as he watched Rebecca struggle to hold her plate and drink her lemonade at the same time. He rescued the plate and then traded her when she’d slaked her thirst.

“Don’t drink it.” Becca told him seriously when he took a moment too long placing it beside her.

“Oh, Becca, he’s not gonna drink your old juice. Don’t be so dumb.” Levi stated with his usual impatience for his family.

“She’s just dumb,” he said to Ross.

“Oh, I don’t think she’s dumb,” he said mildly. “After all, she doesn’t know me and I might have drunk from her cup.”

“You like lemonade?” Clovis wanted to know.

“Mm hmm.”

“You can have some of mine.” Clovis was naturally generous.

“Thank you, Clovis, but I’ve had mine.”

“How’d you know his name?” Levi wanted to know.

“Grandma Em told me.”

“She’s that old lady that lives here, huh?”

“She is Silas’ grandmother. And yes, this is her house.” Ross tempered the remark about “that old lady.” Grandma Em was old, but Ross never thought of her that way. It somehow seemed disrespectful.

“Do you know my name?” The voice was muffled around a cookie.

“You must be Rebecca, or do you like Becky?”

“Becca,” Levi answered for her. “I’ll bet ya don’t know my name.”

“Levi.”

The ten-year-old looked impressed and Ross smiled.

“What’s your name?”

“Ross.”

“Did you know our mama?”

“No, I wish I had.”

“She got sick and died.”

“Mandy got sick last year.” Becca chimed in as though talking about the weather.

“Yeah, she got all hot with a fever and Mama cut all her hair off. She cried. Girls are dumb about their hair.”

Ross easily pictured Amanda’s short hair, just brushing her shoulders and pulled back at the sides. Even though he’d not given any prior thought to it, he realized it did stand out in a day when women and girls alike rarely cut their hair.

“Are you being careful with those plates and cups?”

The kids answered their sister affirmatively. Ross, stuck in his daydream, had a hard time figuring out if Mandy was really standing there. She had come around the side of the house, and his imagination was still at work. He must have stared for quite a few seconds because she finally said, “I just can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“Your name,” the words came out in embarrassment. “You were waiting for me to remember your name, but with so many people today and, well—”

Ross came off the step in a single fluid movement. “I should be the one apologizing for staring rudely. And my name is Ross, Ross Beckett.”

“I remember now. You’re a lawyer here in town.”

“That’s right,” he said with a smile.

“But now I’ve forgotten how you’re related to Silas’ grandmother.”

“I’m not. That is, not by blood. I’m a friend of another of her grandsons—Paul. He and his wife and family live farther north, as did I until January.”

They seemed to run out of words but Mandy was saved from an awkward moment when Rebecca needed her. Ross, watching her turn to her sister, felt something akin to pain when she passed close enough for him to see that her eyes were red from crying. The strangest feeling came over him, and he felt a strong urge to hold her hand again, an urge he wondered about for the rest of the day.

11

 

“Thank you for coming.” Carrie wondered if she would remember any of these people’s names as they filed out of Grandma Em’s. She wished she’d gone with Mandy to check on the kids.

“Yes, I’m Carrie. Rebecca is younger.”

“Yes, she was a good mother. Thank you.”

“No, we haven’t talked to our pa yet.”

“I’m 14.”

Carrie was beginning to feel like she wanted to cry again. She knew they were all being kind, but she wanted to be left alone. And her throat hurt. Badly.

“Carrie, I didn’t realize you were here at the door by yourself. Why don’t you come and sit down.” Amy spoke softly as she approached.

“That woman, I don’t know her name, said she was leaving and that I should see her to the door. And then it seemed like everyone else decided to leave at the same time and well…” The 14-year-old’s eyes filled with tears and Amy immediately led her to the kitchen.

Wordlessly she pulled out a chair for Carrie at the table and poured her a glass of water. Amy watched her drink.

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