Our Fragile Hearts. Buffy Andrews

      “What did you eat in school?”

      “Nuggets.”

      I looked at the school menu. It was the only blue paper in Piper’s stack. “Oh, you like chicken nuggets.”

      Piper scrunched her freckled nose. “Their nuggets tasted funny.”

      I looked at the menu. “What about the pudding? You were supposed to have pudding. Did you like that?”

      “I like Mommy’s pudding. She puts whipped cream on top. I asked for whipped cream but they didn’t have any.”

      I decided that perhaps food wasn’t a great topic. “I bet you made a lot of new friends.”

      She shook her head.

      “Oh, come on. You met Jacy.”

      Finally, a smile. I mentioned Jacy and Piper’s face lit up like a slot machine when the jackpot’s won.

      “Jacy and I sat at the same table. Mrs. Baker picked us to be line leaders when we walked to the cafeteria. And we swung together at recess.”

      Piper finished her cereal and I listened as she told me all about Jacy. I learned Jacy could read an entire book, could go the whole way across the monkey bars without falling and didn’t have any brothers or sisters but a dog named Winnie the Poodle.

      “Winnie the Poodle?”

      Piper nodded. “Yep. It’s a poodle and she likes Winnie the Pooh. Winnie the Poodle. Get it?”

      I smiled. “Then that’s a great name.”

      “I wish I could have a dog,” Piper said.

      I looked up from the health information sheet I was trying to fill out. It’s really hard to fill out a questionnaire about someone’s health when you’ve only know the person for a few months. “Pipe, we talked about this. No animals. They’re too expensive. There’s shots and vet visits, not to mention food.”

      Piper’s face deflated like a balloon popped with a pin. Poof! The happiness gone in an instant. “When I get older I’m going to get a dog. I’ll name her Linda.”

      Piper’s chin wobbled and her eyes filled with tears. I knew a storm was brewing in her head and buckets of tears were about to rain down her cheeks. Still, I wasn’t about to agree to a dog. “Come here,” I said.

      She slid out of her chair and walked to me. I looked into her eyes and brushed her hair back off her face. “I’m not saying you can’t have a dog because I’m trying to be mean. We just really can’t afford it right now.”

      Piper sniffed.

      “I need to finish filling out this paperwork. Why don’t you go play for a while?”

      Piper nodded and went into the living room but positioned herself on the floor so she could see me while she played with her doll.

      “Don’t worry, Linda.”

      Every time I heard my dead mother’s name it startled me. It’s like that name is associated with fear and no matter how many times Piper says it my reaction is always the same. It makes me jump and wince. I looked up and watched as Piper hugged her baby doll. “I’ll take good care of you. And you can get a dog. What kind would you like? A Yorkie-Poo? They’re cute.”

      I bit my lip and returned to filling out the paperwork. A form sent home from the PTO requested help for school activities. Spirit wear sale. Fall festival. Christmas candy fundraiser. I remember when I was in school I’d always wished my mom would be one of those parents who volunteered for homeroom activities. I remember one time we were going on a field trip and my teacher was looking for chaperones. I begged my mom to volunteer but she said she was too busy, and that was for moms who didn’t have anything else better to do. She did. She had to work two jobs to take care of me. That was a constant reminder. I looked down at the form and checked all of the boxes. I didn’t want to become my mother.

       Chapter 4

      Mary

      The cleaning agency called to tell me they were sending someone the next day. They didn’t tell me much, other than that she was twenty-two and very thorough. I finished reading the paper and then called the florist to have flowers delivered to June’s funeral. She’d moved to Arizona shortly after my parents sent me away and the service and burial were there.

      She still had relatives living in the area, which I guess is why the local newspaper carried her obituary. I didn’t plan on attending the service, but I thought a basket of flowers would be a nice gesture.

      I showered and made it to my doctor’s appointment with five minutes to spare.

      The nurse opened the door to the waiting room. “Mrs. McAlaster?”

      I stood and followed her down the hall.

      “You’re in room seven today. Do you think you could give me a urine sample?”

      I nodded.

      She pointed to the bathroom. “There are cups in there. Just leave the cup on the sink when you’re done and I’ll get it. Then go into the room and put on the gown. I’ll be right in to go over your family history.”

      By the time I’d undressed and put on the soft pink cover-up that snapped in the front the nurse was knocking on the door.

      “Come in,” I said.

      “How have you been feeling, Mary?”

      “Can’t complain. Little aches and pains here and there, but that’s to be expected for my age.”

      The nurse proceeded to go over my family history. Ovarian cancer?

      “No.”

      “Breast cancer on your mother’s side?”

      “Yes.”

      “And you had one breast biopsy but that was, let’s see…” She scrolled up the laptop screen. “In 1997. And since then your mammograms have been normal.”

      “That’s correct. The 1997 biopsy showed no sign of cancer. I had calcifications but was told they were nothing to worry about.”

      She proceeded to go over my history. “And you’ve never been pregnant, correct? No miscarriages or abortions?”

      I’ve always said no to this question, but something made me want to say yes. What did it matter now? Hadn’t I kept this secret long enough? Besides, Mother and Father and James were long gone. I kept the secret because they’d asked me to. They’d always been so worried about what other people would think. And I’d kept their secret, too. Again, because they’d asked me to. But the world had changed in the last fifty years. Nowadays women had children out of wedlock and men and women had same-sex partners and some of them had children, either biological or adopted. Sometimes, I wondered what it would’ve been like had I been born twenty years later.

      I never had the chance to tell Teddy I was carrying his child. Mother found me throwing up one morning and cornered me in the bathroom. Teddy was on vacation with his family and by the time he’d returned my parents had sent me away. But sometimes I wondered what would’ve happened if Mother hadn’t found me and I had been able to tell Teddy. Would my life have turned out differently?

      “Mary?” the nurse asked.

      “Yes.”

      She looked out over her glasses. “Yes, you’ve never been pregnant?”

      “That’s correct,” I said, knowing that even now I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone the truth. The ghosts of Mother and Father and James still haunted me and I guess they would forever.

      I suppose never having children is one of the reasons why I’ve done so much to help them now. I think about