She looked down at Aidan and his daughter and all the love she felt for them, all the love she had hidden away for all the long years of her life seemed to spill from her fingertips, showering them with blessings that glittered like diamonds, that shimmered like stars.
It would be different for Aidan and his children. She had felt it the moment her words blossomed in the air between them, known the precise moment when those words took root inside his heart. It was too late to give him the gift of the past, but the future was still his for the taking.
A wife he loved and who loved him in return . . . three beautiful daughters and a strapping son . . . such a wonderful life . . . she wished she could be there to watch it all unfold, but the look in Michael's eyes told her that it was time to say goodbye
.
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MADDY HEARD THE soft sound of crying coming from Irene's room.
Claire lowered her head. Billy Jr. and his sister pulled closer together. Big, strong Tommy, the bartender at O'Malley's, was blubbering into an enormous white handkerchief while her hard-nosed cousin Gina leaned against the wall, crying openly.
She wondered how Aidan and Kelly were doing. Irene O'Malley had lived an exceptionally long and full life, but that didn't mean the people who loved her found it easy to let her go. There was always unfinished business, things you wished you had said, and a few you wished you hadn't heard. She whispered a prayer for Irene and one for Aidan and Kelly as well.
How long had it been since she'd prayed? It seemed that she had murmured more urgent prayers today than she had since she was a little girl making her first communion. So far, however, it seemed her prayers were falling on deaf ears.
Tom was in with Hannah now. He said he couldn't explain it, but a warning bell had gone off inside him when Maddy's e-mail arrived that morning and he hopped a ride on a friend's corporate jet to be there with his youngest child. “Hannah will be so happy to see you,” she had said as they hugged briefly. The expression in his eyes said it all. Hannah was his daughter and he loved her. Maybe he didn't love her the way Maddy wanted him to, but the deep, unbreakable connection was there and she thanked God for it. Hannah's life would be the richer for it.
His wife, Lisa, had come upstairs with him and quietly charmed both Maddy and Rose with a Hannah story they had never heard. She met everyone, visited Hannah, then excused herself ostensibly to get a bite to eat in the cafeteria downstairs.
Maddy liked her. After all the months she had spent hating the woman's very existence, she found herself glad that Tom had chosen so well for himself and for Hannah.
So many wonderful things had happened today. Miracles, if you believed in everyday wonders. The amazing changes in her relationship with Rose. The promise of discovery with Aidan. Her father's quiet strength. Tom's love for his daughter. The loving circle of family and friends who had gathered together because that was what you did when one of your own was in trouble.
So many things to be thankful forâif only Hannah weren't lying in that cold and sterile hospital bed, growing sicker with every moment that passed.
The lumbar puncture was scheduled for ten-thirty. “We don't expect to find anything,” the specialist had told her with the flat tone of a man with better things to do. “Just ruling out all the possibilities.” Another forty-five excruciating minutes to endure, followed by the endless wait for results. She couldn't project herself that far into the future. It frightened her too much. These doctors knew so much about the mysteries of the human body. They could peer into the tiniest recess, into the secrets of DNA, and yet they couldn't figure out why her little girl was dying. Things like that happened all the time. In a world that demanded explanations that could be charted on a graph or fed through a computer, sometimes life threw a curve-ball that couldn't be charted or graphed or understood and she was afraid this was one of those times.
She had to face the truth because if somebody didn't come up with an answer soon, Hannah was going to slip right through their hands.
Irene's door opened and Aidan stepped out. Claire walked over to him, gave him a quick hug. They spoke quietly and she returned to her children. His eyes moved swiftly over the assembled crowd until they found Maddy's.
She knew instantly that he had found what he had been looking for. He looked younger somehow; his sorrow over Irene's death carried within it a sense of peace that Maddy could feel across the room.
She stood up and walked toward Aidan and Kelly, searching for the right thing to say and the right words with which to say it but nothing seemed adequate. His eyes never left hers and she suddenly realized exactly what was different. Somehow his grandmother's death had freed him from the burden of sorrow that he had carried like a shield, a barrier between his heart and life's many slings and arrows and joys. She didn't know what had transpired in his grandmother's last minutes on this earth, but they had obviously had a profound effect on Aidan.
She whispered a prayer for Irene O'Malley's soul then, without a word, she and Aidan hugged. Her forehead rested against his chest for a second, just long enough for them both to register the rightness of the connection between them, the healing power of touch.
Kelly watched them, her expression a blend of curiosity and affection, and on impulse Maddy made to hug her as well, but a very familiar shopping bag came between them.
“The samovar?” She felt every bit as puzzled as she sounded.
Kelly's face blazed with color. “I was just about to give it back to you.”
“So I see,” Maddy said, “but how on earth did you get it in the first place?”
“Rose let me borrow it earlier today. I thought maybe Grandma Irene would recognize it or react, but . . .” She shrugged. “Didn't happen the way I hoped it would.” She handed the bag to Maddy. “I know this sounds crazy, but maybe you should show it to Hannah. You never know. She loves it so much that she might respond.”
Maddy clutched the bag to her chest. “Kelly, she doesn't even know the samovar exists. It's a Christmas present.”
“Uh-oh.” Kelly's cheeks blazed an even brighter shade of red. “I forgot it was supposed to be a secret.”
“She knew about the samovar?” A buzz of awareness tingled along Maddy's spine as she thought about Hannah's sudden yearning for hot tea in a glass, the smattering of Russian, the grown-up sorrow in the little girl's eyes.
“She showed it to me last night,” Kelly said. “I felt weird being in Rose's bedroom like that, but Hannah was so cute about it being our secret that Iâ” She shrugged. “You know.”
“I know,” Maddy whispered, tears filling her eyes.
“Hannah wanted me to drink pretend tea with her but Iâ” Kelly made a face. “It looked pretty grungy when she poured it into her glass.”
“How's Hannah doing?” Aidan asked.
Maddy shook her head. “They've checked everything. They even made us bring samples of the foods Hannah ate yesterday to make sure she hadn't been accidentally poisoned.” The lab was also running tests on Hannah's toothbrush, her bathroom cup, her pillowcase, and a clipping of Priscilla's fur in their search for answers.
Her peripheral vision caught sight of Claire and Father Donato approaching. Jim Donato had been serving at Our Lady of Lourdes for as long as Maddy could remember. Her stomach knotted as she noticed the vestments draped over his arm.
He greeted Maddy warmly, expressing his concern for Hannah and promising to add her to the prayer list. Maddy thanked him, while her knees went weak with relief that he hadn't suggested last rites for her little girl.
She excused herself and moved away as Father Jim explained to Aidan that while nobody knew with certainty how long the spirit lingered with the body after death, he believed Irene's soul would be well served by the ministering of last rites. Irene had been a parishioner at Our Lady of Lourdes for as long as anyone in town could remember and Father Jim was determined to ease her way along the road to heaven as best he could.
Aidan, who had eight years of Catholic school under his belt same as Maddy, agreed and the family disappeared into Irene's room.
Funny how all those hours spent studying the catechism came back to you when you least expected them. The drawings of the happy children marching out of confession without the weight of sin on their shoulders. The picture of a beatific soul hovering above a still body while the priest gave extreme unction. Page after page of mysteries that no one walking the earth could possibly understand.
The older she got, the less she understood the hows and whys of life. One little decision fed into another and another and suddenly you found yourself back home with your family, back in the town you'd left behind and the people you thought you loved best from a distance, struggling to figure out if you really belonged there or if it was just another stop along the way to somewhere else. Or maybe you sat down at the computer one night and clicked on an auction Web site and there it was, a magic lamp masquerading as a battered rusty teapot with the power to change your life forever. One decision leading into another and then another and before you know it you find yourself with more love than you had ever dreamed existed. Random luck or the hand of fateâhow could you possibly know the difference when you were smack in the middle of it all?
She glanced down at the samovar cradled in her arms as the familiar voices of family and friends rose and fell around herâRose's voice, Aidan's, her father's rumble, so many of themâall blending together as they waited and prayed for Hannah. If prayers meant anything, if love could work miracles . . .
One voice climbed above the others and she turned to see Tom standing in the doorway to Hannah's room. The old saying about blood running cold suddenly made terrible sense.
“Come here,” he said, his voice both familiar and strange. “Hurry!”
She felt like she was moving in slow motion, pulling herself through a heavy dreamscape as she made her way toward Hannah. She was distantly aware of the sudden absence of sound, the spongy feel of industrial carpet beneath her feet, the sharp taste of fear.
Maddy's heart threatened to snap in two at the sight of her mother leaning over Hannah's bed, stroking the little girl's cheek. Her father stood behind Rose, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
“She opened her eyes,” Tom said as Maddy joined them. “I think she tried to say something, butâ” His voice broke and he looked away.
“Honey.” Maddy, still clutching the shopping bag, leaned over the bed. “I'm here, Hannah. Mommy's here.”
Hannah struggled against the sheets and blankets. Rose placed her hands against the child's shoulders and tried to calm her, but Hannah wriggled away from her.
“She's stronger than she looks,” Rose said.
“Hold this.” Maddy thrust the shopping bag toward Tom.
“What is it?”
“A very long story,” Maddy said as she reached for her daughter. If Hannah recognized her she gave no indication. She recoiled from Maddy's touch, murmuring something under her breath, words and phrases that made no sense at all to anyone in the room. Maddy's fear escalated.
“I should have told you I gave Kelly the teapot,” Rose said. “I wasn't thinking clearly this morning.”
Maddy shook her head. “It doesn't matter, Mom. None of us was thinking clearly.” She pulled Hannah's struggling body against hers and held tight.
Tom reached into the bag and pulled out the samovar.
“Put it back!” Rose snapped. “It's a present for . . .” Her gaze angled toward Hannah who was squirming in Maddy's arms.
“She knows,” Maddy said over her daughter's shoulder. “She took Kelly up to your room to show it to her last night.”
“It looks like Aladdin's lamp,” Tom said. “Bet she loves it.”
Show it to her
, Kelly had said.
She loves it so much
.
“Come over here,” she said to Tom. “Hold the samovar up so Hannah can see it.”
He did as she told him. No questions asked.
“You have to hurry up and get better, Hannah,” Maddy crooned to her daughter. She felt light as parchment in her arms. She could almost feel her spirit oozing out through her pores and floating away. “We'll have a tea party with your beautiful magic lamp . . . you can invite Aladdin and Jasmine . . . I'll even let you wear your Jasmine pajamas to bed every night next week . . . just open your eyes, Hannah . . . come back to us . . . please come back . . .”
Please, God, don't take her from me . . . please!
“Maddy.” Tom's voice was low, urgent. “She's opening her eyes again . . . I think she's coming out of it!”
Rose's sob filled the room. Bill coughed loudly and looked down at his boots.
Maddy's heart beat so quickly she had trouble catching her breath.
She laid Hannah down against the pillows and took her daughter's hands in hers.
“Come on, honey, you're almost . . . just open your eyes . . . that's a girl . . . open your eyes and everything's going to be all right . . .”
“. . . take care . . .” Hannah said softly. “. . . take care of my blue-eyed boy.”
“Blue-eyed boy?” Bill mumbled. “What blue-eyed boy?”
“Must be one of her dolls,” Rose said.
A doll, the postman, Brad Pitt. Maddy didn't care. All she cared about was that her daughter was coming back to her. Hannah's eyes fluttered open. Her gaze drifted from the ceiling to the IV pole to the samovar gleaming at the foot of the bed. She lifted her eyes to Maddy and for a second Maddy saw the woman inside her little girl, and a shiver of recognition rippled through her body and was gone before she could acknowledge it.