Year of the Monsoon (19 page)

Nan stood watching the reflections of the street lamps on the water, fighting the nauseous feeling in her gut. “I thought I would never have to feel this way again.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Maybe I should face reality and reconsider what I told you earlier about not being ready to let the relationship go.”

Lyn wrapped an arm around Nan’s shoulders. “Don’t. Not yet. I would tell you if I thought it was hopeless, and I don’t think it is. Leisa is confused right now. I don’t know what all is going on in her head, but don’t give up.”

Chapter 15

LEISA PULLED UP IN
front of a small Cape Cod in the southeast outskirts of Ithaca. She double-checked the address written on the printed Internet directions lying on the passenger seat. It took her a moment to locate the house numbers hidden in the midst of the ivy crawling up the concrete steps and scrolled cast-iron pillars of the front portico. This was it. She saw a face appear briefly in a window as she climbed out of her car.

Her heart was pounding as she stood there and looked around. The yard looked a little unkempt, but she supposed winter lasted so long up here that maybe April was still a little early to do any spring cleanup. As she went up the walk, she couldn’t help but notice that the house badly needed painting, and there was debris overhanging all the gutters along the front of the house. There were three overgrown flowerbeds planted around the yard, each anchored by a different statue: one of the Virgin Mary, one of Jesus and one of St. Francis.

She tried to curb the growing sense that she was making a mistake, and fought the urge to run back to her car and leave.

“This will be wonderful if she turns out to be someone nice, someone you like,” Jo Ann had said when Leisa asked them to watch Bronwyn for the weekend, “but what will you do if she isn’t?”

“And at the risk of sounding like a lawyer,” Bruce interjected before Leisa could respond, “you just inherited a lot of property and money. I don’t know if you’ve told her about your mother’s death, but my advice would be to get to know her much better before you divulge too much.”

Leisa looked at both of them fondly. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you two,” she said. “And I have thought of these things.” She shrugged. “There’s just no way to know until I meet her.”

Just as she raised her hand to rap on the front door, it opened and Leisa found herself, for the first time in her life that she could remember, looking into a face that looked like hers. She and Eleanor Miller stared at one another for several seconds.

“Oh, heavens,” Eleanor said at last, her eyes – the same gray-green eyes as Leisa – filling with tears. “You look just as I imagined you would.” She unclasped her hands and held them out tentatively. “Could I… could I give you a hug?”

Leisa smiled her assent, and found her own eyes tearing up as she remembered that the last time she was held by these arms, she’d been six weeks old.

“Come in, come in,” Eleanor said at last, letting Leisa go and stepping back to let her in. Leisa looked around as she entered the living room. She felt immediately that she had stepped back in time to the 1980s. All the furniture was overstuffed chenille in faded shades of mauve and teal. There were frilly floral-patterned curtains hanging from scrolled wooden cornices. She saw a crucifix and a framed photo of Pope John Paul II hanging on the wall. The end tables held cross-stitched Bible verses in various-sized frames.

“You made good time,” Eleanor was saying. “I was so surprised to hear from you.”

“I hope it was all right that I decided to come with so little notice,” Leisa said apologetically. “I made a reservation at a nearby motel.”

“Oh, nonsense. You didn’t need to do that,” Eleanor insisted as she led Leisa into the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be great, thanks,” Leisa said, noticing that nearly the entire front of the refrigerator was covered with photos of Donald.

“Please, sit down,” Eleanor said as she handed Leisa her glass and cleared away some of the accumulated mail cluttering the surface of the kitchen table.

“Well, I’ve always imagined this moment, and now I don’t know what to say,” Eleanor said with a nervous laugh as she sat also.

Leisa smiled. “I know. I’ve imagined this conversation so many times…”

“Tell me about yourself. Where did you grow up? Where did you go to school?”

Remembering Bruce’s advice, Leisa told her in rather vague terms about Rose and Daniel, about growing up in Baltimore and going to the University of Maryland, and about her work at St. Joseph’s. As she spoke, she covertly eyed more of the mail on the table and saw that much of it was in the form of various Catholic magazines and newsletters. She had come to this meeting intending to be absolutely open and honest about her relationship with Nan, but now she found that resolve wavering. She decided to try and learn more about Eleanor.

“Tell me more about yourself,” she suggested.

“Oh, well…” Eleanor seemed embarrassed. “Well, after I told him – my boyfriend, your father – about, you know, being pregnant, well… he left. I was just out of business college, and couldn’t go home like… like that. I found a home run by nuns who took in girls like me, and they arranged the adoption. I thought it would be easy,” she said, her eyes growing moist again. “But you were so beautiful. I almost changed my mind,” she added with a watery smile.

“I know,” Leisa said softly. “My parents kept your note.”

Eleanor raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes blinking rapidly. “I always hoped you wouldn’t hate me,” she said tremulously.

“No,” Leisa insisted, leaning toward Eleanor. Instinctively, she started to reach out to Eleanor, but pulled her hand back to clasp her water glass. “I had a wonderful childhood. You made the right decision. For both of us.”

Eleanor’s tears spilled over. She reached for a tissue. “Thank you.”

“So,” she said, dabbing at her cheeks, “what do your parents think about you coming up here?”

“Um… well,” Leisa stammered awkwardly, picturing Bruce shaking his head, “they’ve both passed away.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Eleanor said sincerely. “You’re all alone now?”

“No,” said Leisa quickly. “I have… I have an aunt and uncle I’m very close to.” Inside, she cringed at her cowardice in not telling her about Nan.

They sat in an awkward silence broken unexpectedly by the sound of heavy feet coming down the stairs. Eleanor quickly shoved her tissue in her pocket and stood as Donald entered the kitchen. “Donny, this is Leisa,” she said, somewhat apprehensively.

Leisa and Donald appraised one another. She supposed he must look like his father, because she couldn’t see any of Eleanor in him. Like in his photos, he was taller than his mother, grossly overweight with a grayish pallor to his skin. He obviously saw her resemblance to their mother as he gazed at her curiously. She was startled to see what looked like a flash of resentment in his eyes as she stood to shake his hand. He gave her a flaccid handshake in return and turned to his mother. “When’s dinner going to be ready?” he asked.

“Oh, heavens,” Eleanor said. “I’ve been so busy, I forgot about dinner. It won’t be but a few minutes, honey.”

Donald frowned in irritation as he turned to go back upstairs. “Call me when it’s ready.”

Eleanor bustled about the kitchen, pulling things from cupboards and the refrigerator as she explained, “Donny is very intelligent, a genius, really. But he’s always been ill. Diabetes. He went to RIT for a year, but the strain was too much for him.”

“So what does he do now?” Leisa asked.

“Oh, well, he does things on the computer,” Eleanor explained vaguely. “He has friends all over the world.”

“So if he doesn’t work, how come he can’t clean up the yard and the gutters?” but Leisa decided not to ask it aloud, sensing that Eleanor would make excuses for him no matter what. Instead, she offered to set the table.

“Oh, thank you,” Eleanor said from the stove where she was pan-frying chicken and putting frozen homefries in the microwave.

Within a short while, dinner was ready. Eleanor went to the stairs to call Donald. Leisa re-filled her water glass and went to what she supposed was her place at the table where Donald was already seated.

Eleanor carried two large platters of chicken and potatoes to the table.

“Drink?” Donald asked in exasperation.

“Oh, heavens, I forgot,” Eleanor apologized again as Leisa bit back the retort that sprang to her tongue. Eleanor returned a moment later with a two-liter bottle of soda and poured Donald a large glassful.

Leisa couldn’t help herself. “I thought you were diabetic?”

“I am,” Donald answered curtly, talking through a mouth filled with potato.

“Donny hates all that diabetic food,” Eleanor said as if she were sharing a confidence. “I don’t have the heart to make him eat it.”

Forcing herself to be quiet, Leisa ate her own meal, wishing there were a green bean or broccoli tree somewhere to be found. She asked Eleanor more questions, hoping to learn more of her extended family, but was disappointed to learn that Eleanor had only a father with whom she was not close, as she didn’t get along with his shrewish third wife, and a brother who lived alone in Schenectady whom she hadn’t spoken to in years. “It’s just Donnie and me,” she said affectionately, reaching a hand out to his arm. He impatiently pulled from her grasp. Throughout dinner, Donald didn’t say a word as he refilled his plate, and then got up to leave the table as soon as he had finished eating.

“Don’t you want to stay and visit?” Eleanor asked, clearly embarrassed.

Donald paused for a moment. “Later,” he said, giving his mother a meaningful look before continuing upstairs.

“He’s always been shy,” Eleanor smiled.

“Yes, I can see that,” Leisa said with not-so-subtle sarcasm as she picked up both her own plate and his and carried them into the kitchen.

Leisa insisted on helping with the dishes and was washing the frying pan at the sink when Eleanor went back to the dining room to gather the platters. She thought she heard Donald’s footsteps come back down the stairs. She turned off the faucet and in the sudden silence in the kitchen, she heard his carrying whisper, “Have you asked her?”

“Not yet,” Eleanor whispered back.

“What are you waiting for?” he hissed angrily before going back upstairs.

Leisa turned the water back on and busied herself with her scrubbing as Eleanor covered the leftovers in plastic wrap and put them in the refrigerator.

“I should probably be going,” Leisa said as she put the last pan in the dish drainer.

“Oh, no, not yet,” Eleanor said quickly. “We still have so much to talk about,” she said with a nervous glance toward the dining room.

Nan sat in the dark, trying to calm the panic that had threatened to overwhelm her since her conversation with Lyn at the waterfront. All through the estrangement with Leisa, it had never occurred to her that Leisa might not come home, that she might end up with someone else. Looking around at the shadowy silhouettes of the living room furniture, the house suddenly felt like a mausoleum, empty and lifeless. Up until now, she’d told herself this was just temporary, “just until I can re-gain Leisa’s trust,” but now… now nothing seemed certain.

She got up and restlessly wandered the house. She hadn’t slept more than an hour or two all weekend and the thought of facing clients tomorrow was not an appealing one. She went to the den and looked at her Monday schedule, considering cancelling the day, but “what would you do if you don’t go to work?” she asked herself.

The telephone rang.

“I’m fine,” she said as she picked up.

Maddie laughed. She’d already called four or five times over the weekend. “Glad to hear it. We wondered if you wanted to come over for some dinner.”

Nan sighed. “I don’t think so. I’m not very good company right now.”

“You think we don’t know that?” Maddie said. “But you still have to eat, and not that frozen microwave junk you always do when you’re on your own.”

Nan smirked. “You know me too well.”

“Come on. We’ve got plenty,” said Maddie.

Before Nan could think of an objection, Lyn called out in the background, “If you don’t get over here, we’re bringing dinner to you.”

“Hear that?” Maddie asked.

“All right,” Nan grumbled. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Despite her foul mood, she smiled as she grabbed her car keys.

“Hey,” Lyn said, opening the door to greet her a few minutes later. She pulled Nan into a hug and held her tightly for a few seconds. “Get in here.”

Nan could hear Maddie’s voice in the next room. “No, it’s not okay. You’re giving me no notice and it’s unprofessional.” Maddie pressed her fingers to her forehead as she listened to whoever was on the other end.

Nan frowned as she noticed Lyn biting her lip.

“All right. Back at work on Wednesday.” Maddie hung up and stood glaring at the phone.

“Who was that?” Nan asked, though she thought she knew.

Maddie glanced up at her. “Leisa. She’s still in New York. Wants to stay a couple extra days.”

“What for?”

Maddie shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I don’t have a good feeling about this.”