Tears poured down her cheeks. She couldn’t let Sophie see her this upset.
She waited until David’s car disappeared into the distance, called up to Sophie to tell her where she was going and then drove to the one person who always made her feel safe.
Mimi
Through her kitchen window, Mimi saw Grace flying down the path toward her cottage.
The edges of her coat flapped open and the rain had dampened her hair into curls so that each strand appeared to be fighting with the next, but what really caught Mimi’s attention was her expression. Everything she felt showed on her face.
Instinctively Mimi reached for her camera but then put it down again. She’d recorded many things over her lifetime, but she wasn’t going to record her granddaughter’s pain.
As a child Grace had learned to hide it with most people, but never with Mimi. It was as if she’d given her grandmother the key that opened the door to her soul. In that moment she looked so like her mother that Mimi was immobilized, her memory transported to another time. It was like seeing Judy again, like being given a second chance.
Some women weren’t meant to be mothers. Mimi was one of them.
It was all my fault, and I’m sorry.
Her silent apology to her daughter went unheard and when Grace lifted her fingers to brush tears from her cheek, Mimi saw only the differences. The nose was different. The mouth was different. Grace’s face was oval and thinner than her mother’s, although Judy’s appearance had altered toward the end.
Mimi clutched at the kitchen counter, steadied herself.
Why did life come with so much tragedy?
Right now she felt every one of her ninety years, and for a fleeting second she wanted to lie down and curl into a ball and let life do whatever it needed to do.
And then Grace drew closer, and Mimi knew that while she was still able to function, she would never give up and let life do its worst. And she would never abandon Grace.
It was a relief to discover that the fight, the anger that she’d thought had maybe left her along with much of her hearing and her previously perfect eyesight, was still there.
She opened the door, heard the hiss of the rain on tarmac and breathed in the smell of damp grass.
Winter had been nudged aside by spring, but the sun had yet to emerge from hibernation. Every day brought a dank wetness, and skies heavy with cloud. The cold made Mimi’s bones ache. She longed for summer when she could fold away the extra blankets she kept close.
“Grace.”
Grace tumbled through the door into her arms, and Mimi almost staggered. It was as if grief had made her heavier. She led her to the pretty blue sofa that made her think of Mediterranean skies and azure seas. She sat, and Grace slid to the floor and sobbed into Mimi’s lap.
She’d done the same thing as a child, Mimi remembered. When her mother had rejected her, embarrassed her, frightened her.
It was painful to watch, and she stroked Grace’s hair, feeling frightened herself.
She’d seen enough in her nine decades not to be shocked by much, but she was shocked by this.
Oh, David, how could you?
David, who she would have said was the most solid, predictable, dependable man she’d ever met. He’d almost made Mimi believe in marriage.
What would happen now?
Was this karma? Was Grace being punished for Mimi’s sins?
Seeing Grace so safe and secure had given her joy. She hadn’t anticipated this, even though she should have done because she knew how easily life could change direction.
“I hate him.” Like a child she sobbed, her tears drenching the thin silk of Mimi’s dress. “I truly hate him.”
“No, you don’t.” Mimi held her, stroking her shoulder. “You hate what he’s done.”
“Same thing.”