Hope from the Ocean: 5

On a sunny, cold weekend morning in January, Sister Rebecca Katherine woke early.  The sun greeted her through her dormitory window, and shone on her pillow, bathing her face in warm light.   She turned over, looking at the clock, and sat up, swinging her feet over the side of the bed, and feeling immediately the chill from the floor against the bottoms of her feet.  Stretching her arms to her sides, she said, "Well, Creena, you've got a big day today."

Hope Weekend had finally arrived.

She went over the details in her mind.  9:00 Clear breakfast and close kitchen.  By 10:00, have the solarium emptied of residents and have all the booths opened and ready to go.  At 10:30, guests should begin arriving.  Make certain to remind Sister Elizabeth Mary to organize the greeters.  And call your brother, to remind him, or he'll forget.

A while later, she was greeted by Blair in the lobby of St. Anne's.  They hugged and exchanged pleasantries, and she began to chatter about the latest news.  "So, as ya can imagine, I've been thrashing this about in my head for a bit now.  I have a decision to make," Sister Rebecca Katherine began.

"It sounds great, to me.  I think it would be a good thing for you to do."  Blair offered.  

"Ya came here for another reason, I am sure.  And what was it, Lass?"

"I came to see if I can help with Hope Weekend.  I want to do whatever I can."

"That's nice of ya.  But ya seem to have something on your mind.  Am I right?"

"I don't know.  Maybe.  Todd's going through so much.  And, Sister, I'm very afraid."

"Of what, Dear?  Surely not of Todd?"

"No, no, nothing like that.  I'm afraid of . . . losing the baby."  Saying it made it very real for her, as if whatever she had been feeling was now reality.

"Ah, I see."  The nun put her hand on Blair's shoulder.  "Can I do something?  Maybe I can listen to ya, or help ya see something?"

"I'm so afraid, Sister," Blair said, falling into the nun's arms, and crying against her shoulder.  

"There, there, now.  Come on and sit down here, Bridgette."

They sat in the family room at St. Anne's, and Blair, attempting to pull herself together, was handed a tissue from a nearby box of Kleenex.  Drying her eyes, and blowing her nose, she turned to the nun and said, "I came here to fall apart."

"Nonsense.  Ya came here to talk.  Ya needed to, and ya don't want to tell Todd this.  Not right now.  He has enough to deal with.  Isn't that it, Lass?"

"Yeah, I guess it is.  Sister, I'm so scared.  I just . . ." she rested her hands on her belly, "I can't lose another child.  It's too much."

"Ya won't.  Did the doctor say something that made ya think ya would?"

"No, nothing more than the usual.  I'm not young anymore, not really.  I guess that's always a concern. The fact that I've lost three other babies, it just complicates things."

"I am sure it does.  But ya have to have faith, Bridgette.  Ya have to believe."

"I am trying, Sister.  It's so hard, to lose a baby.  It's something I can't ever describe.  No one should have to lose a child.  Our first one, I remember, Todd was so devastated.  It almost tore us apart.  We were so young.  And with Sommer, he was my rock."

"He's a strong man, Bridgette.  Rely on that.  He can take more than ya think he can.  In fact, it might be helpful to him to have something to invest himself in.  Worrying about ya might help him worry less about himself."  Blair listened, and the elderly woman took her hand, and held it.  The nun said, "Bridgette, it's all right to be afraid, but ya have to keep your head about ya.  Tell him.  Don't keep it from him.  Share it with him, it will help him as well.  I'll keep ya in my prayers, and the little babby, too."

"I appreciate it.  Now, what can I do with Hope Week?  Momma got such good care here during her time.  I want to give back."

"Well, there is plenty to do.  We have some tables rented, and we have some food ordered.  And the previous patients are all contacted and ready to come back and either share something they've created or perform, or whatever."

"I was a patient here, once.  It wasn't genuine, but I was in here twice.  Both times, it was to accomplish something.  Not very nice, I know."

"Is that why you and Todd have this habit of . . . habits?"

She smiled.  "I suppose, yes.  A tradition with us, for some reason."

"It's just a part of ya.  Y'ar both so special to me.  And y'ar love is a precious thing."

"Thank you.  Send all the bills for the rentals and the food to Todd.  I know he'd want to take care of it."

"That's gracious of both of ya."

***

"Now, let me see, should we measure your foot?"  Tina asked.

"I take a size six and one half."

"Six and one half?"  Tina looked at the woman's bloated, long toes, and said, "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Well, it can't hurt to measure it."

"I said, six and one half."

"Well, I think you might want to rethink it.  I mean, there's no way that foot could ever fit into a size six and one half.  Ever."

"Well," the woman said, picking up her bag, "I've never been insulted by a shoe salesman before," and stormed out.

Tina wiped her hands on her skirt.  "Hmf.  I'm a seven, and there's no way those fat feet were . . ."

She turned to see her boss, standing with her arms folded.  "Tina.  Was that Mrs. Liverpool?"

"I don't know.  But whoever it was, she had some fat feet."

"Mrs. Liverpool is a very good customer.  Or was."

"But she was trying to get her foot into a size six and a half.  There was no possible way!"

"The first thing you must learn about sales is that the customer is always right, regardless of the fact that they are totally wrong.  You see?"

"Si," Tina said, dejectedly. 

"Now don't let it happen again.  Hopefully, she'll come back since she's been loyal to Logan's for years."

"If she does, I hope she has had foot-reduction surgery," she said to herself, and puttered around the shoe department with a feather duster.

***

"Momma?"  Todd said, standing at the door of her room.  She stood, and walked to him, putting her arms around his neck and hugging him.  He looked at her.  "How are you?"

She nodded, and gave him a thumbs up.

He smiled.  She took his hand and led him to the desk.  He sat, and put his hands on the table, and she did the same, with her pen in hand.

He said, "Are you ready for Hope Week?"

She nodded, and kept writing.

"I will be happy to see your work.  How many paintings are you going to have?"

She stopped her note, and took another sheet, and handed it to him.  Sketches.  Not paintings.  I think I will have five or six.

"That's good.  I'm proud of you, Momma.  Proud to be your son."

She kept writing, and handed him the original sheet.  I had a dream.  It was about the new baby.  It was a girl.  She was little, Todd.  She was so small, she fit in your hand, and you were holding her.  I was better.  I was normal.  I couldn't talk, but I was okay.  And I am proud to be your Momma.

He said, "It was a dream, Momma.  But you will get better one day."  

She wrote more.

I want to be better.  Even if I can't talk, I want to know what's real and what's not.  I want to remember things.  I want to know everything about me and you.  I want to be a good Grandma and Momma.

"You already are," he said, smiling.  "Blair and I went to the doctor today.  She said that everything is fine so far."

I don't understand why it would not be fine.

He'd thought of this moment, that his mother might ask.  He decided to play it honest.  "Blair's lost other babies."

Her eyes widened.  Babies?  How many?

He held up his fingers, showing three.

She furiously wrote.  That is not good.  It's very sad.  She must be sad and afraid, Todd.  You have to help her.  You have to remember how she might feel.  Are you afraid?

He thought about it.  "Yeah, I am, I guess, a little.  I don't want to see her go through that.  Not again."

This is your baby, too.  I remember something.

He became a little worried, but listened to her.

You did not come out of me.  I think I told you that before.  You were adopted.  I wanted a baby, so much.  I dreamed of it, a lot.  Peter was my first love.  He was different before.  I wanted a baby.  And after we were married, I lost two.  Then they said I couldn't have more.

"I'm sorry, Momma."

I did not really remember that before.  It just came to me.  She looked at him with a face of discovery.  She was not sad or angry; she was surprised at herself for uncovering something new.  

"Are you okay?"  He asked.

She nodded.  Then, her face crinkled up.  She was writing, and then stopped, looking down at the floor.  She began to rock.

He took the paper from her.  This is why you meant so much to me.  I still don't understand why I let

The note stopped, right there.  Todd took out his cell, and texted Ray, who was there in moments.  Not pushing his mother, he just sat, quietly holding her hand as she went somewhere else.

He looked up at Ray.  "I can see where I got the running inside myself thing."

"Possible.  You could have witnessed it happening.  She may have even taught you.  We'll talk more later, right now, I've got to work with her, Todd.  If you can excuse me."

Todd felt alone.  He stood, and moving backward away from the table, he went into the hall.  He looked to the ceiling and wished Blair was with him, and closed his eyes.

Within moments, his cell rang.  The name across the screen:  OTB

He answered.  "Hey."

"Hey, had a great meeting with a certain nun.  She's all geared up for this big day."

"Good."  He was relieved that the lump in his throat was slightly quelled by her voice.

"Good?  Don't you have an impersonation or some snark or something?"

"No, Babe."

"Todd, what's wrong?  Where are you?"

"I'm . . ." he swallowed to remove the catch in his throat.  "I'm at Mountainview."

"Is everything okay, Todd?"

"Momma, she . . ."

"Come home to me, Todd, come home now.  Or stay where you are and I'll come there."

The baby.  I can't let this happen, can't let her get upset . . .

"I'm fine, really.  I'll tell you more when I get there.  Williams is outside, I'll be home in a while.  Don't worry about me."  He said the words carefully; he couldn't let her down.

"All right.  Call me back if you want to chat on the way.  I love you."

"I will," he said, and looked down.  In his hand, he still held the final note his mother had just written to him.  He crushed it in his fist and went to the exit.

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