“Hi,” I said. “Thanks for letting me have your bear last night.” I held him out to her.
“You’re welcome.” She took the bear and hugged it close. “You were sad about something. Was it the storm?”
I smiled and shook my head. “No.”
“Was it because of Mother? Because I cry about that sometimes too, and I don’t even remember her.”
“No, it wasn’t that either.” I tugged on one of the rags in her hair. “You look like her, you know that?”
“Yes. But I like hearing it.”
I lay down again, propping my head on my hand. “She had red hair and blue eyes, just like we do.”
She squeezed her bear. “It makes me feel close to her, even if I didn’t get the chance to love her.”
If I’d had tears left, I might have shed them. “Oh, honey, you can still love her.”
“Don’t you have to know a person to love them?”
I continued stroking her hair, and it reminded me of Joey taking the rags from mine last night. “I guess you do, poppet, but loving your family isn’t the same as loving someone else.”
She was quiet for a minute. “How do you know if you love someone?”
“Well…” I tried to think of a good way to explain it, but I couldn’t. “I’m not really sure. Maybe it’s different for everybody.”
“I always know if I love someone, because I miss them when they go away,” she said. “It makes my heart hurt.”
My hand stopped moving. “I think that’s a good way to tell, Mary Grace. As good a way as any I’ve heard.”
#
After mass, my sisters and I went to the cemetery, and I couldn’t help looking over at the spot where I’d seen Joey last Sunday. But he wasn’t there. Disappointment made my feet heavy as we trudged through the wet grass to our mother’s grave.
“Where’s Daddy?” Mary Grace asked. “How come he didn’t come with us?”
“He never comes with us,” answered Molly.
“Yes, he does. Sometimes,” Mary Grace defended. “And sometimes he comes alone, he told me.”
“Does he?” Molly looked at me as we walked.
“I’ve seen him here once,” I admitted. “But he’s been busy this week with the new location and moving out of the garage.” Why I felt the need to make excuses for the man, I didn’t know.
“Daddy says we’ll have more money now that he’s got the new place,” Mary Grace said. “Maybe even enough to hire a housekeeper or a cook.”
“What? When did he say that?” I stopped walking and turned Mary Grace to face me.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. A few days ago, maybe? He said maybe it will even be Mrs. Schmidt who used to work with mother where she was a maid, at that big house.”
Molly and I exchanged a surprised look. “That would be nice,” I murmured, starting to walk again. We let Mary Grace run ahead of us and moved to walk shoulder to shoulder.
“Does this mean he’s letting you move out?” she wondered.
“I haven’t the slightest idea. Daddy never tells me his plans.”
We walked silently for a moment, our shoes squishing in the soggy ground. “Are you going to tell him about last night?”
I sighed, lifting my skirt so the hem wouldn’t get wet in the tall grass. “I guess not. But if it happens again, I will. You understand?”