Henceforth, I was left to wonder if the dress was made in hope or in surrender.
Perhaps Mummy asked Gammy to make it, told her Charles would be returning to ask her hand. In the days just after he departed, I believe Mum surely felt emboldened by their dalliance. So it may be that Gammy set about sketching a gown fit for a Mrs. Charles Carnegie.
Or it may be entirely the opposite. Charles departed, and my wise Gammy knew that Mum would wind up married to my father. She figured if it wouldn’t be a love match, at least Mummy could get married in a lovely dress.
I stand before the mirror at the doctor’s qua
rters, pressing the dress to my naked body. I fold an arm across my chest and the dress, freeing up my other one to pull the tie from my hair. I spread my hair over my shoulder and I tilt my head a bit—so I look matronly. More like the Mummy in my memories.
I tried to don the gown anew a few moments back, but over the years I’ve fattened up and I can’t fit into it.
Tears well in my eyes as I peer at my reflection. I’m still drying from my shower. Anna shoved me in before she and my dear ones left. After Holly and Dot asked ten million questions about Declan, and I fed them quite a large number of lies.
I look at myself, covered by the gown, and I open my jewelry box and remove Gammy’s diamond. It fits my finger flawlessly—along with the band. I lay the gown over a chair and twirl through the quarters wearing nothing but the jewelry.
The phone rings off the hook, and not from anyone in need of doctoring. More people want to bring food. I told them back beside the Land Rover that no one should disturb Declan as he rests—so all the food’s been brought to me.
One of the many times it rings, I answer, and it’s Doctor again. He called at the cottage, having heard from his friend Father Russo I had gone there, but I feigned connection troubles. Now I feel like I’ve swallowed a fish as he says, “If it isn’t dear, lost Finley…”
I try a weak laugh. “I’ve been found.”
“Russo said you arrived in the village, both fairly unharmed.”
I swallow. “No one was seriously hurt. It was just the fallen rock that trapped us in a…more burrow than cave.”
“No way out?”
I nod, licking my lips. “It was horrid.”
“I’d imagine. What’s he like? What did you eat?”
“I had those Atkins bars that came for Joshua McGillin. Just a half dozen. We had those.”
“You and the great Homer Carnegie.”
“He’s quite…regular. You’d get on nicely, I think.”
“Is that right? Too bad we’ll miss each other.”
Doctor’s ship returns after Declan’s departs. “It is.”
“So no injuries for you? My beloved nurse is well?”
I nod. “I was quite lucky.” I lick my lips again. “How are you, Doctor? How is your father getting on?”
“Someone should hold a pillow over his face.”
I laugh. “You must be joking.”
“Insufferable bastard.”
“That’s really too bad.”
“Without the bottle, he’d just as rather be gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It mustn’t be easy on you.”
“Counting down the days until I’m back there. Try to tend my caseload, will you? No more disappearing. Gave me quite a fright.”