Tracie Peterson (13 page)

“Father, you know I’ve tried to show them the right way. I’ve tried to help them to see that family is more than being raised under one roof—to one set of parents. I’ve tried to teach them about love—about you, but their hearts are so wounded. Only you can heal them. Only you can give them hope again.”

A knock at her door brought Mattie back to her feet. “Come in,” she called.

Deirdre opened the door just enough to look inside. “Are you all right?”

Mattie could have guessed that it would be her little peacemaker. Deirdre had spent a lifetime trying to ease the tensions in the family. “I’m fine,” she told her granddaughter. “Do you want to come in?”

Deirdre nodded and slipped inside and closed the door. “Grammy, we’re all so sorry for fighting. It’s like you said—the tension of the last few days, dealing with Rachelle’s death and the media circus . . . well, it’s just made us a bit crabby. We really do care about one another.”

“I know you do,” Mattie replied, taking a seat on her bed. “It’s just that sometimes I think you take for granted that you’ll always be here. That the pain you forge today can somehow be melted away tomorrow. But, Deirdre, there aren’t always tomorrows to deal with.”

Her granddaughter nodded. “Like with Mom.”

Mattie smiled. The girls seldom referred to Rachelle as “Mom.” “Yes, it’s exactly like that. I don’t know if Rachelle meant to take her life or not. It might have been nothing more than an accident, but either way she’s gone now. She couldn’t have made up for the past
even if she’d have remained alive. But at least alive she could have created a new future. Now she can’t even do that.”

Deirdre sat beside Mattie. “I just don’t want you to fret, Grammy. We know how important it is to remain close. We love one another, even with all our quirks and problems. We can’t help fighting sometimes, but we always make up.”

“But there may come a day when you don’t get a chance to make up,” Mattie said quite seriously. “That’s why the Bible admonishes us not to let the sun go down on our anger. There isn’t always a tomorrow in which to fix things. You have to remember that.”

“I will, Grammy,” Deirdre said, leaning over to hug Mattie close. “Connie and Erica and I will be leaving on Saturday too. I just wanted to let you know. I sure wish you’d consider coming home with us. It’s not that far away and I could bring you back when it’s time for Dave and me to go on our trip.”

“Ashley already invited me to go to Denver. I’ll be fine, I promise you,” Mattie said reassuringly. She held Deirdre’s hand for a moment and relished the memory of another time when that hand had been much smaller.

“You’d probably better get on back out there,” Mattie said softly. “They’ll all be wondering if you soothed my worries away.”

Deirdre smiled. “You know us pretty well.”

“Some things stay the same. Your temperament has always been to worry about everyone’s feelings. You’ve always been the least selfish of my girls.”

Deirdre laughed. “Oh, I can be selfish. For instance, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all if you decided to give me Piece Work. I fell in love with that quilt from the first moment. I’d be selfish enough to take it home and keep it all my days.”

Mattie shook her head. “You aren’t the first one to suggest such a thing.”

“I didn’t figure I was,” Deirdre admitted. “Just remember that I like it too—and don’t go selling it off to strangers.”

“I can promise you I won’t do that,” Mattie assured. “It has a
special place in this family—just like each of you do. I hope you won’t forget that you will always have a special, reserved spot in my heart. A place I keep just for you.”

Deirdre nodded and gently reached up to touch Mattie’s cheek. “Despite what anyone else feels, and yet I’m sure I speak for all of us, Grammy, you were always more than we could ever hope for in a mother. You were always there for us, always faithful. It would have been nice to know our mother and father, but you were everything we needed.”

Mattie felt tears come to her eyes. Deirdre’s affirmation felt like words from God himself.

Chapter 12

Mattie got off the phone and went immediately to where the girls had gathered in the kitchen for a snack.

“That was Mavis Lane, your mother’s secretary,” she offered as she joined her granddaughters.

“What in the world did she want?” Erica questioned.

“Apparently there are specific funds to help with the funeral expenses. There are also some papers, letters, and other things that Mavis is boxing up to send to me here. She thought it might be things we’d want to have right away. Also, there are some insurance policies with me as the beneficiary. She didn’t say what they were worth, but apparently I need to see to them.” She paused, seeing she had everyone’s full attention. “I may be the beneficiary, but as far as I’m concerned everything of hers belongs to you.” All heads turned at this. “I had a small policy on Rachelle from the time she was a child and it easily covered her funeral expenses, so I have no need for anything more.”

Deirdre put down her magazine and shook her head. “There won’t be a lot of money—will there?”

Mattie shrugged. “I can’t say. Rachelle had a lot of debt, according to Mavis, but her properties will be sold off to cover that. The estate will probably take years to settle in full. The insurance policies she had are free and clear of the estate.”

“I never thought to inherit anything from her,” Erica said softly. “I’m not sure I want anything from her.”

“I know I don’t.” Ashley’s voice sounded bitter, almost angry. “She can’t buy my affection.”

“I don’t think anyone is suggesting that,” Connie commented.

“She did leave it in your name, Grammy,” Brook added. “I doubt she meant for us to have it.”

Mattie saw the hurtful look on their faces and longed to make things right for them. She had once tried to help them see that letting go of Rachelle and the past was the only way they could go forward with their lives, but each one had her reasons for carrying their grudges.

Erica got up from the table and grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator. Taking the can back to the table, she took her place beside Deirdre. Mattie smiled at their grouping. It was very nearly a traditional matter and some things never changed. Ashley and Brook were within easy distance to share a conversation, while Connie had placed herself at the far end of the table and Deirdre and Erica had taken chairs opposite the twins.

“You know, I’m reminded of the day Rachelle came home with Ashley and Brook,” Mattie said, hoping that by sharing a link to their past, they might not feel so angry. At least not with one another.

“She was sixteen and so skinny and dirty. She’d run away the year before, and I hadn’t heard so much as a word from her. Then one day she just shows up pushing a stroller with two tiny bundles. She came back into my life as suddenly as she’d gone out from it,” Mattie said, leaning back in the chair. “She was nothing like the defiant child who’d left me. This Rachelle was quiet, almost frighteningly so. She wore a ring on her finger and told me that she’d married, but she wouldn’t say who her husband was or where he was.

“She put Ashley in my arms and told me her name. Then she did the same with Brook. When I asked why she’d picked those names, she shrugged and said, ‘In the hospital nursery their beds had little signs that said Mitchell Baby Girl A and Mitchell Baby Girl B.’ So she went with alphabetical A’s and B’s for her babies’ names. I asked her about them having the last name of Mitchell, if she had married, but even this didn’t seem to phase her. She simply declared that she had kept
her last name and that she had demanded her children also keep it.”

“Why would she do that?” Brook questioned aloud. “I mean, if she hated everything here so much, why would she keep the Mitchell name?”

“She didn’t keep it for long,” Connie said snidely. “I mean, no one in the world knows her under that name. She’s Barrister to them.”

Mattie shook her head. “I don’t know why she did it. She never said. It might have been because she had such a fear of losing people.”

“What do you mean?” Ashley questioned, shifting to draw her legs up under her.

“Rachelle never got over losing her father and brother,” Mattie said thoughtfully. “I always figured that she refused to give you your father’s name because she was afraid he’d up and die on her too. Which, of course, is what happened.”

“That must have really been upsetting,” Erica said, shaking her head. “I never thought of how it would have made her feel.”

“Well, given the losses in her life, I think Rachelle tried to buffer herself from any more pain. I think she had figured it would be easier to have everyone hate her and think her unloving than to love them and lose them. Of course, she made up for that loss through her acting, where the rest of the world praised and loved her.”

“Still, it should have mattered that the people who could have given her a great deal of love were the very people she drove away,” Deirdre suggested.

“When Rachelle was twelve and her father died, she blamed herself. If you’ll remember, it was shortly before Christmas and she had to stay late to practice for a special play they were to give on the day before winter break began. Her father and brother were on their way to pick her up when they hit the ice and were killed.”

“We’ve heard this before,” Ashley said uncomfortably.

Mattie nodded. “Yes, I know. I’m only telling you this because of something that happened later. Rachelle had an assignment at
school. She was to write a theme on her family. Instead, she made the assignment a declaration of why fathers were unnecessary in the lives of children. I can still see her little-girl handwriting, always so neat and concise. She wrote, ‘I don’t think it’s good to have a father. Fathers just work and get tired and have to go rest. They go away a lot and sometimes they never come back. I don’t need a father, and I’m glad that mine went away.’”

“How could she say that?” Brook questioned in disbelief. “How can you say what you do about Rachelle?” Mattie countered. “Pain makes people say and do things that are ugly and hurtful. Rachelle was just trying to deal with her pain, as you are trying to deal with yours.”

“But she had a father at least for part of her life,” Ashley said softly. “We were never allowed that privilege.”

“I know,” Mattie said sadly. “I wish I could have made it different for you. I suppose it matters very little that your father was of the undesirable sort who dabbled in crime and drug trafficking.”

“That’s what Rachelle told you,” Connie said angrily. “For all we know he could have been the governor of Kansas.”

Mattie shook her head. “No, I had a lawyer square everything away when I adopted you girls. Your father was a drug addict named Gary Gable. He died from an overdose, just like your mother. End of the story. Except that with you all still alive, it really isn’t the end.”

“He wasn’t my father,” Connie interjected. “At least not if what Rachelle told you was true. In my case, I don’t even have a name to associate with that honored position. My father was one of Rachelle’s one-night stands and I was simply a mistake.” The bitterness in her voice was clearly evident.

Mattie shook her head. “Rachelle made more mistakes than any of us care to remember, but you are not one of them, Connie.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

Mattie’s heart nearly broke for the pain in Connie’s voice. “Then do,” Mattie said firmly. “God makes life, not mistakes. Please
understand me—I’m not excusing Rachelle’s actions or even her inaction. I only brought up the issue of the accident because it forever changed the little girl I knew.”

“I’m sure it was hard for Rachelle to live with the accident,” Erica offered to her sisters. “I mean, we can’t be without compassion.”

“Why not?” Connie questioned. “She was.”

“But just listen to yourself,” Erica replied. “Listen to all of us. We’re so bitter and angry. Are we going to stay that way the rest of our lives?”

“I’m only bitter when I have to think about her,” Ashley said. “When I go home to my family, I will bury Rachelle both literally and figuratively. She won’t figure into my future.”

“You’re being awfully negative, aren’t you? I mean, I realize Rachelle left a lot undone, but does she really deserve your hatred?” Mattie questioned.

“Yes.” Connie’s matter-of-fact statement caused her sisters to turn in unison. They stared at her for a moment as if she’d spoken some horrible, unspeakable thing, then turned to Mattie and nodded.

“I don’t know how you can love her after all she did to you,” Brook finally stated in a soft, reserved manner. “You were wounded every bit as much as we were. She doesn’t deserve a thing from us—certainly not love.”

“I have to agree with Brook,” Ashley said, nodding her head ever so slightly. “You taught us that love was a special gift.”

“That’s true, but I didn’t say you should be stingy about giving it,” Mattie countered. “Do you really see anything positive to be gained in my taking up your cause and hating Rachelle?”

Ashley looked away uncomfortably. “You always said, ‘What goes around comes around.’ Rachelle refused to think of anyone but herself. Not us. Not you. Not even God.”