Moon Over Water. Debbie Macomber

that threatened to consume her in a room full of people.

      An endless stream of sympathy and advice had come at her.

      “Of course you’ll want to keep the house…”

      Lorraine had nodded.

      “Naturally you’ll be selling the house…”

      Lorraine had nodded.

      “Your mother was a fine woman…”

      “We’re all going to miss her…”

      “She’s in a happier place now…”

      “…such a senseless tragedy.”

      Lorraine had agreed with one and all.

      By the time everyone had left, it was dark. Gary had helped her with the cleanup and urged her to return to her own apartment. Or to his. He didn’t seem to understand her need to stay here, but how could he? He’d never lost a parent.

      “You should go on home,” she’d told him. “I’ll be fine.”

      “Darling, you shouldn’t be alone. Not tonight.”

      “It’s what I want,” she’d insisted, yearning for him to leave. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and one she didn’t fully understand. She loved Gary, planned to spend the rest of her life with him, but at that moment she’d wanted him out the door. She had to deal with her grief and pain in her own way.

      “You need me,” Gary said with loving concern.

      “I do,” she agreed. “Just not right now.”

      Disappointment registered in his deep brown eyes and he nodded with obvious reluctance. “You’ll phone if you change your mind?”

      Lorraine had said she would.

      He’d kissed her on the forehead in a sweet gesture of love and consolation. Shivering with the evening’s cold, Lorraine had stood out on the porch and watched him drive away.

      She’d finished the remaining dishes, then wandered aimlessly through the house, pausing in the entrance to each room. Tenderly she caressed the things that had once been her mother’s most prized possessions. She closed her eyes and pictured her mother and father together at last and the wonderful reunion they must have enjoyed.

      Lorraine was comforted by the knowledge that Virginia had been happy during the last weeks of her life. She’d been thrilled at the news of her daughter’s engagement, thrilled at the prospect of planning a large formal wedding. No sooner had Lorraine accepted Gary’s proposal than Virginia had started making elaborate plans for the October wedding. She’d valued tradition and frowned on Lorraine’s having chosen a small emerald necklace in lieu of the usual engagement ring.

      “You have your wish now, Mom,” she said aloud. The wedding ring on her left hand had belonged to her mother. The inside of the band was engraved with the words “I’ll love you always. Thomas.” The funeral director had given it to her that very day, just before he’d closed the casket. Lorraine had slipped it on and wouldn’t remove it until the time came for her own wedding. Her mother had worn this ring since the day Thomas Dancy placed it on her finger, and now Lorraine would wear it, too.

      “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 and grabbed 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 alone? His attitude upset her. This wasn’t like Gary.

      “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you