Relief made her feet light. “Correct.” Anna gave Chris’ arm a little smack. “You always were a smart ass. I guess that’s something that didn’t improve with age.”
Chris took a huge bite of his ice cream and then gave Anna a chocolaty smile. He looked exactly like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and didn’t care at all about the consequences.
Chapter 20
It was nearly five o’clock when Anna pulled into the driveway. She’d had several text messages from Jilly to which she’d given only cryptic replies. She knew her sister would blast her for leaving her alone with Mamma all day. Anna didn’t feel guilty, though. For once it was nice to have done something purely selfish. She also had a suspicion that Jilly and Mamma needed some alone time. Theirs had been the most tumultuous of the three relationships in their home. Anna believed it was because they were so much alike, although she would never voice the thought to her sister.
Anna shut off the car and undid her seatbelt. She couldn’t stop her thoughts from returning time and again to the day she’d spent with Chris. He’d kept things light, for which Anna was grateful, but she knew they would have to do some mining before their relationship could ever go more than topsoil deep. There was just too much pain, regret and lost opportunities. Anna was filled with curiosity about his life and what he’d done since she left. Her pain had been so great after leaving him that she hadn’t even been able to keep tabs on him. She didn’t want to know when he found someone else and moved on. She had no idea it would hurt more to learn that he’d never moved on, never found happiness. It hurt to her marrow that she’d wounded him that much.
They’d parted with a smile and exchanged numbers, but Anna didn’t miss the darkness that clouded the pure blue of Chris’ eyes. She knew him too well to be fooled by the banter and cheerful teasing. It would be a very long time before Chris let her in. The thing that would haunt her was the very real possibility that he would never let her in as far as before. If she were Chris, she didn’t know how she could do it, so how could she expect him to?
The front door opened and Jilly’s blonde head peeked out at her. With a sigh, Anna grabbed her bag and got out of the car. Bracing herself for a million questions, she headed for the door and her curious sister.
Anna hadn't gotten far inside the house before Jilly pounced.
"So, what happened? Did you see him?"
Anna groaned. She hadn’t told her sister where she was going, but Jilly hadn’t needed to be told.
"I'll tell you all about it later. First tell me how things went today." Anna kicked off her now uncomfortable sandals and hooked her arm into Jilly's. "Did you and Mamma talk much?"
Jilly pulled Anna toward the stairs, talking as they climbed. "Yes, we talked a lot. I'm surprised. Why was it so hard for us before?"
“I don’t know. She hurt us a lot back then.”
They reached the top of the stairs and Jilly tugged Anna toward the window seat overlooking the garden. The sun was still going strong, bathing the flowers below with golden light. They sat across from each other. Jilly's face was pensive.
"Do you think Mamma has changed a lot?" Jilly asked.
"Well, I only saw her last night when we talked, but my first response would be yes, just as we've both changed a lot."
"Good point,” Jilly said. "Today, she was so kind to me. She made sure I had a nice breakfast after discovering you’d left. I assured her that you had some business to attend to." Jilly smiled. "I didn't tell her where I thought you’d gone, if you're worried about that, but I think she knew and approved."
"Really?"
"Yes, really." Jilly leaned her head back against the window frame. “She was sad not to see you, though. She's painting now, but I think you should go to her."
Anna studied her sister for a minute.
"What?" Jilly asked when she couldn't read Anna's expression.
"You're different. Relaxed. Peaceful maybe."
"I guess I am," Jilly said. "I feel better, like, uh, I can't describe it actually. I guess peaceful is the best way, but it's more than that. I painted for a while with Mamma." At Anna's surprised look Jilly smiled with a wry twist of her lips. "Yes, I know, we could never have done it before. Mamma would have pushed me and tried to get me to paint better. I still don't know why—”
"Yes, you do," Anna broke in.
Jilly's arched eyebrow asked the question.
"You're painting true to your inner vision rather than what you think she'd want you to paint. That's all she ever wanted you to do. You weren't being honest with yourself or with the canvas. Remember how Mamma would say that all the time."
Jilly nodded. "Yes, that's right. She said it was something her Papà said to her." Jilly tilted her head, thinking. “I’ve got it. He said, 'Be honest with the canvas. You can lie anywhere else but there. The canvas demands your truth.' Wow.” Jilly rubbed her nose. "I was lying all this time, and that's why I was so frustrated."
"And Mamma knew it."
"How did she know?" Jilly asked.
"I think it's because she's always been completely truthful herself, even when the truth hurt. She could recognize a counterfeit."
Both women looked at each other. Anna could tell her sister was thinking of the child in Mamma's paintings too.
"Oh, Anna."
They both whirled around at Mamma’s voice. Anna lowered her gaze, hoping Mamma wouldn't be upset they'd been discussing her.
"Thank you for saying that." Mamma moved to the window and held out her hand. Anna took it and Mamma pulled her to her feet. Anna stood in front of her, seeing with fresh eyes just how much she resembled her mother. For the first time in her life, she felt it was an honor.
"You're very right to say it's hard to be honest, but the canvas demands it of me. Or, maybe it was Papà who drilled it into me, and now I can't do any different."
Anna wanted nothing more than to hug her mother. She hadn't hugged her since she was a tiny girl. Before she could think further, Mamma pulled her close.
The smell, that familiar scent of spicy orange blossom that was her mother, enveloped her and brought tears to her eyes. She knew in that moment that no matter how old a woman got, she still needed her mother. Then she felt Jilly's arms wrap around them both and the tears fell faster. She could almost hear the crack in their family mending right in that moment. Yes, they would have to work through the years of misunderstanding, but this is where it all began.
After a few minutes, they all pulled away and wiped their eyes. Mamma stepped back and studied her daughters.
“I have a story to tell you both if you will let me.”
Anna nodded her acquiescence, curious to hear what she would say.
"Yes, of course, Mamma," Jilly said.
"But, first, I'd like to talk to you. I had some time with Jilly today," she smiled a fond smile at her younger daughter, "and I'd like the same with you."
Anna took Mamma's hand in answer. They walked toward the stairs to the third floor, to Mamma's studio.
"There's something I have to show you," Mamma said.
Anna stopped on the threshold. Mamma wrapped an arm around Anna’s shoulders and led her forward. An easel near the largest of the windows in the studio held a large painting. It was a close-up shot of a very handsome man. He had a Roman nose and piercing, dark brown eyes. His mouth was full and sensuous.
Anna stepped closer, studying his face. She didn't know him, but realized at once that he was someone important. Mamma rarely did portraits, but had obviously spent a long time on this one. There was love in each brushstroke. She wondered at first if this was a young version of her Papà, but dismissed the thought as soon as it came to her. This man was young, much younger than Mamma would have remembered her Papà. This man was just out of boyhood. His maturity sat light on him. He was in his prime, but his carefree childhood was still visible on his face.
Anna longed to reach out and touch his cheek, but wouldn't dare mar the painting with the oils in her fingers. Instead, she reached up and touched her own chin. She felt the outline and knew. This man had to be her father.
Mamma stepped to her side. “He's your father," as if she'd read Anna's mind.
"Oh, Mamma," Anna's voice was barely a whisper. "He's gorgeous.” Anna looked up just as Mamma wiped a single tear from her cheek. "You still love him." It wasn't a question. All Mamma's feelings were naked on her face. "What happened?" Anna felt a surge of curiosity, but also felt like she intruded on something very private and painful.
Mamma turned her back on the painting and gave Anna a small smile. The pain she still felt crept in at the edges, but it was an old pain, one that Mamma had lived with for many years and learned to be, if not comfortable, then at least to co-exist with it.
"It's all part of my story, honey. I just wanted you to see him before I told the story. And I wanted to say how sorry I am that I never allowed you to know him.”
Mamma took Anna’s hand. “Come. It’s time I told you and your sister my story.”
Chapter 21
“Catarina!”
The voice came from a long way away. Catarina rolled over and snuggled deeper into the warm blankets.
“Catarina!”
The strident voice of her mother calling from her bedroom fully woke Catarina. She sat up in bed. Rain pounded on the roof, and thunder rumbled so loudly Catarina could feel it in her teeth. She shivered and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. The fire must have gone out.
“Catarina, you stupid girl. Wake up, I need you.”
Catarina wasn’t surprised by the tone of her mother’s voice or her words. She was surprised, though, by how weak it was. She shot out of bed.
The baby!
She raced into Mamma’s room, and the baby was already well on the way. Mamma, covered in sweat, had thrown off the blankets, and she writhed in pain.
“I’ll go get Maria,” Catarina said and whirled for the door.
She raced to the front of the house, saw the fire was definitely out, but didn’t stop. She needed help. She couldn’t help Mamma with the baby. Papà was gone on a trip to sell his paintings. Catarina was only ten and hadn’t seen a baby born, let alone helped with one. She grabbed her coat off the hook and opened the door.
The force of the storm nearly pushed her back inside. She slipped her coat on and stepped out, gritting her teeth against the cold. Catarina had to put all her weight behind closing the door. She ran across the garden and down the road. The wind buffeted her, but determination pushed her onward.
I hope Mamma’s okay while I’m gone.
Catarina thought about how Mamma must be feeling and her stomach tightened with fear.
What if I can’t find Maria in time?
The storm grew fiercer and Catarina slowed. She couldn’t run any longer. It was like she wasn’t even moving. A huge gust of wind hit her from the side and knocked her down into the mud. Catarina screamed as she fell. She climbed up and steadied herself, wiping the mud on her coat. Mamma would understand, she hoped.
A flash of lightning, and then thunder boomed overhead. Catarina started running again, determined to get to Maria before the storm could stop her. It was only about a mile and a half to the midwife’s house, but it felt like twenty. Each step felt like it would take the last of her energy.
Why did Papà have to leave so close to the baby coming?
Tears poured down Catarina’s face, competing with the rain.
We need Papà now!
The storm lashed harder and Catarina picked up her speed. Now she wanted nothing more than to be inside and safe.
The rain had washed out the road. She hadn’t even thought about that possibility, even though it happened at least once or twice a year. There was no way around it. Catarina was more than halfway to Maria’s house, but there was nothing she could do now but turn around. She sobbed harder at the thought of helping Mamma have a little baby. What if she did something wrong and hurt the baby? What if Mamma died?
Catarina raced back toward the house. She fell two more times and was covered in mud by the time she got to the house. She burst inside, the door slamming against the wall, pushed by the wind.
“Maria, quick, I’m in the back room,” Mamma called out as soon as she heard the door.
Catarina couldn’t answer her, she gulped at the air, but couldn’t seem to satiate her heaving lungs. The tears still flowed. She wrestled the door closed and stood panting while she tried to figure out what to do, the tears slowing as she considered her options. She couldn’t help Mamma have a baby without cleaning up, but the baby might be already here. With that thought, Catarina raced to the back room.
“Catarina, where is Maria?” Mamma looked worse, but at least there was no baby yet.