Her Sister's Child

The child’s voice was barely a whisper. “Hi, Aunt Julia. Grandma said you’d be here today.”

Julia gently finger-combed hair from Katie’s cheeks. “Of course, sweetheart. We Sommerville women have to stick together, don’t we?”

Katie’s expression didn’t change. She stared at Julia, then dropped her gaze to the floor. “I guess.”

“I can’t believe how big you’ve grown,” Julia said. “I haven’t seen you since Christmas.”

Cora got up, opened a cupboard and carried a bowl to the table. “Do you want some breakfast, honey?”

“Okay.” Katie sat in a chair, folded her hands in her lap. “Daddy’s gone, isn’t he?”

Cora opened a cereal box. “For now, yes. He had some things he had to do.”

“He has to pick up Mommy’s ashes.”

Cora dropped the box on the floor. “What?”

“He said she was cre… I don’t know the word.”

Cora grabbed the handle of the refrigerator to steady herself. Her eyes glittered with fresh torment and something else—fury. “D-damn your f-father,” she cried. “I told him I wanted a traditional service to bury my daughter properly here on the mountain. He’s taken that away from me.”

Julia’s momentary hope that Cora had found the strength to face this tragedy for Katie’s sake vanished. She looked into her niece’s eyes, saw the fear reflected there. She took the girl’s arm and led her onto the back porch. “Look at the trees, sweetie. It’s beautiful this morning. We’ll have breakfast out here.”

She went back to get Katie’s cereal, poured herself a glass of water and took her prescription bottle from the pocket of her robe. She swallowed the tiny pill and brought a sobbing, trembling Cora to a chair before facing the fact that a few weeks might not be enough time for any of them to heal.

CHAPTER TWO

JULIA ENTERED the kitchen on Tuesday morning and headed for the coffee machine. She filled a mug that had been left for her on the counter and smiled at her mother. “Thanks for letting me sleep in.”

Cora glanced at the kitchen clock. “8:45 a.m. is hardly worth thanking me for. Besides I have a good idea how many times you got up during the night.”

Julia took her first sip of fortifying caffeine, walked to the back door and looked onto the porch where Katie sat in an old bent twig chair, her eyes cast down on a book. An empty bowl and glass were on the rustic table beside her. “At least she ate her breakfast,” Julia said. “That’s encouraging, even if she’s still not sleeping well.”

“Nightmares again?” Cora asked.

Julia nodded. “I doubt she remembers them, though. She cries without fully waking up.” She sent her mother a concerned look. “Did you bring up the subject of taking a bath yet this morning?”

“I mentioned it. Katie just shook her head and said she didn’t need a bath yet. She said you’d help her wash when you got up.”

Julia mentally counted the days since Tina’s death—again. “It’s been a week. I understand her reluctance to get into water now, but this can’t go on. Phobias that affect children at Katie’s age can last a lifetime.”

Cora sighed. “I guess you may be right about Katie needing to see a professional.”

Relieved that Cora had come around to her way of thinking, Julia sat across from her mother. “I know you were hoping to avoid outside influences at this early stage of her grief. But we have to face the fact that family may not be enough to see Katie through this.” She sighed, staring down into her mug. “Especially when one of those family members is me and I’ve been conspicuously absent for too much of my niece’s life.”

“Stop blaming yourself for the alienation between you and Tina,” Cora said. “Your sister didn’t do anything to bridge the gap, either. Anyway, you saw her and Katie on holidays. That’s more often than many estranged siblings get together.”

Cora’s absolution didn’t make Julia feel better. Now that it was too late, she wished she’d tried harder to reconcile with Tina and reestablish the relationship they had enjoyed as kids. But first there had been Cameron, then Wayne, then Tina’s refusal to share the responsibility for family problems…

Julia shook her head, dispelling the same old destructive thoughts that had kept the sisters apart for years. It was pointless to dwell on regrets. Julia would deal with the past later. Now she had a frightened, grieving little girl on the porch who needed her help. “I’ll check with the elementary school today,” she said. “They must have a counselor who deals with children’s trauma.”

“While you’re at it, see if you can find someone who can help the older generation.”

Julia had suggested many times that Cora seek help for her grief over her husband’s death. “You’ve been dealing better with Dad’s passing lately, haven’t you?”

“I was. But this…I don’t know if I can do it again.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot, Mama.” Julia paused, her mind struggling to focus on Cora’s problems, but refusing to abandon Katie’s. An idea suddenly occurred to her. “About that bath situation…”

“What?”

“I’ve got an idea.” Remembering the prescription she’d tucked into her jeans pocket, Julia said, “I’ve got to go into town and I think I’ll suggest a shopping trip for Katie that just might make her decide a bath isn’t so bad, after all. At least maybe it will be a first step.” She returned to the back door and waited for Katie to look up. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Hi.” Katie sat placidly.

“I’ve got to go into Pope’s Drugstore today. You want to come?”

Katie chewed the inside of her cheek. “I guess.”

“Bring your bowl and glass inside. We’ll get you dressed and go.”

Katie shut the book and reached for her dishes. It was a start.

LINUS POPE, the pharmacist and owner of Pope’s Drugstore came around the counter where countless prescriptions had been filled for Glen Springs residents over several decades. He stuck out his hand when Julia approached. “Well, look who’s here.”

Julia shook his hand. “How are you doing, Mr. Pope?”

His eyes were kind when he said, “I should be asking you that.”

Julia managed a smile. “You heard?”

He squeezed her hand. “Word travels fast in Glen Springs, both good and bad. Margaret Benson came in the other day and told me.” He passed a hand over thinning gray hair. “A terrible thing, Julia. Just terrible. Especially coming on the heels of Gene’s passing. You ladies have my deepest sympathies.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s Cora holding up?”

“About as well as you’d imagine.”

“I know she’s thankful you’re home.” With considerable effort because of his arthritis, Mr. Pope got down on one knee and pulled a lollipop from the pocket of his smock. “Nice to see you again,” he said to Katie. “I was wondering if a pretty little girl would come into the store today and take this treat off my hands.”

Katie waited for Julia to give her the thumbs-up before accepting the gift with a quiet “Thank you.”

The pharmacist stood, placing his hands on his hips. “Can I help you find anything?”

Julia handed him the prescription she’d brought from New York for her antidepressants. Mr. Pope glanced at the doctor’s handwriting. It seemed for a moment as though he might comment on the meds, but he wordlessly folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket.

“You can point us in the direction of bubble bath,” Julia said, grateful for his discretion. Mr. Pope had known her since she’d been born and no doubt wondered why she was taking the medication. Perhaps he assumed she’d just gotten the prescription to help her deal with Tina’s death. That was fine. He didn’t need to know the truth.

He pointed down a narrow aisle. “All the bath accessories are over there. You girls have a look.” He raised a corner of the prescription from his pocket. “I’ll have this ready in a few minutes.”

Julia put her hand on Katie’s shoulder and guided her down the row of shampoos and scented bath oils. When they came to the children’s section, she stopped and affected a great interest in the assortment of colorful plastic bottles. “Look at all these choices,” she said. “Which one do you like best, Katie?”

The child tentatively pointed to a bottle shaped like a duck. “That one, maybe.”

Julia took it from the shelf.

“No, that one.”

She replaced the duck, reached for a fairy princess bottle on the top shelf and unscrewed the cap. Holding it down for Katie to smell, she said, “What do you think?”

Katie sniffed. “It smells good.”

Julia tested it. “Wow, sure does. I think I’ll buy it. Nothing makes me feel better than a good long soak in tons of sweet-smelling bubbles. How about you?”

Katie hunched one slight shoulder. “I never had a bubble bath.”

Julia disguised her shock by loading her basket with other items from the shelves. “Then we’ll definitely have to remedy that. We’ll buy some of these kitty-cat soaps, and one of these pink spongy things and this shampoo.”

Julia set the basket on the counter while Mr. Pope filled her order. “We still have a few minutes,” she said to Katie. “Want to have a drink?”

“Okay.”

They went to the soda fountain and Julia helped Katie onto a stool. While she waited for the clerk to take their order, she ran her hand along the smooth Formica surface where, over her lifetime, she’d enjoyed hundreds of vanilla Cokes. Nothing had changed at Pope’s ice cream and drink fountain. The mirror behind the shelf of soda glasses still had a crack in it. The chrome napkin holders still gleamed. Straws dependably popped up when a customer lifted the lid of the heavy glass dispenser.

And almost as predictably, Julia’s past came flooding back. She vividly recalled when she and Tina were kids, three years apart, and they’d sat on these very stools, sharing a drink and laughing about something that had happened at school. Or when they’d left the matinee at the Glen Springs cinema and waited at Pope’s for their father to pick them up. Or years later, when they’d been sitting here during Julia’s sophomore year at Riverton College and the dashing new professor from the English department had stopped at the pharmacy to pick up a few things for his grandfather who lived at the top of Whisper Mountain.

When Cameron Birch had spotted his student at the fountain, he’d come right over to say hello. Although tongue-tied with nervous excitement at seeing the handsome Professor Birch right here in her hometown, Julia had somehow managed to introduce him to Tina without stumbling over both their names. And that night she’d gone to Tina’s bedroom and gushed to her sister about how gorgeous his hazel eyes were, how intelligent he was and how she couldn’t sleep at night because he’d taken up permanent residence in her mind.

And a week later, the larger-than-life Professor Birch showed up at the cabin behind Cora’s General Store to pick Tina up for a date. And everything changed.

“What can I get you?”

Julia looked up at the young man behind the counter. “Two vanilla Cokes,” she said, and smiled at her niece, whose eyes were the same beautiful blue as her mother’s. She handed Katie a straw. It was too late for her to make amends with her sister, but she prayed it wasn’t too late for her and Katie.

AN HOUR LATER, Julia parted the bathroom curtains. Glorious late morning sunshine sparkled on the tile floor and porcelain claw-foot tub. She looked over her shoulder at Katie, who stood silently watching her. “Isn’t that better? Sometimes, like on a day like today, I really hate those curtains.”

Katie shrugged. “I guess.”

Over the last days, Julia had noticed that Katie often responded to direct questions without emotionally committing herself to the answers. I suppose…I guess…Maybe… These were the responses Katie gave when asked her opinion. It was as if she qualified every answer so she could amend it quickly and simply if circumstances indicated she should. Julia wondered what had made her so unsure of herself. Growing up, Tina had always displayed more than her share of confidence. Apparently that trait hadn’t been passed down to her daughter.

Julia turned on the tap and tested the temperature of the water flowing into the tub. She reached behind her back. “Hand me the bubble bath, sweetie.”

Katie took the bottle off the vanity and passed it to Julia.

“Unscrew the cap,” Julia said.

“No, you do it. I don’t think I’m going to take a bath right now.”

Julia complied, filling the cap with liquid and pouring the entire amount under the faucet. Frothy bubbles spread over the water. “Look how beautiful,” she said. “I think you should add another one.” She handed the cap to Katie and was relieved when the child stepped close enough to the tub to pour in the contents.

Julia swished her fingers through the bubbles. “You have to feel this, Katie,” she said. “It’s like touching air you can see.”

Katie reached forward, poked a couple of bubbles and then scooped a small mountain of them into her hand.

Julia stood. “You know, I could be the first person to enjoy this bath, but I rather thought you might like to be.”

Katie made a fist, shooting bubbles into the air above the tub. “I don’t know…”

Interrupting her, Julia said, “But if you go first, I have a really big favor to ask.”

Katie’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

“Well, we just got Grandma’s favorite lady’s magazine in the mail and I want to read it. I realize that we girls like our privacy when we bathe, but since the light in the bathroom is the very best in all the house, I was hoping you’d let me stay in here with you and read. I promise to be very quiet.”

Katie looked from Julia to the rising water. Her eyes showed a bit of sparkle, just enough for Julia to hope the bubbles might be working some magic. “It would be okay if you want to,” she said after careful consideration.

“Great!” Julia pulled a magazine out of the basket Cora kept in the bathroom and sat on the commode lid. “Why don’t you undress, and I’ll just start reading.”

Fifteen minutes later, most of the bubbles were gone and Katie had been scrubbed clean with the exception of her face and hair. “I think I’m done,” she announced.

Julia looked up from the magazine. “Almost.” She picked up the bottle of children’s shampoo from the side of the bathtub and flipped open the lid. “Still have to wash your hair, don’t you? And I haven’t finished this article.” She reached for a plastic cup she’d brought in earlier. “Can I wet your hair with this?”

Katie nodded, but her eyes widened with the first sign of alarm. “It’s going to be all right, sweetie,” Julia said.

Katie closed her eyes tightly and threaded her hands between her knees. Bending her head forward, she said, “Hurry, okay?”

Julia leaned over the tub and poured the first cupful over Katie’s head. Water sluiced down her forehead and the sides of her face. Katie trembled but remained silent. Julia slowly emptied the contents of another cup, decided Katie’s hair was wet enough and reached for the shampoo.

Katie began to scream. Her face more than a foot above the water, she cried that she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, that she was drowning. Each frantic word was punctuated with shrieks of sheer terror. Her panic ripped through Julia. She dropped the cup, grabbed her niece and lifted her partway from the tub. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

Katie reached up, wrapped her arms around Julia and held on. She buried her face in the crook of Julia’s neck. With bathwater soaking her skin and clothing and her own tears mingling with her niece’s, Julia crooned words of comfort into Katie’s ear. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. You’re going to be all right. I won’t let you go.”

Moments later, the cries subsided. Katie sniffled loudly. “Do we have to wash my hair?”

Julia drew a normal breath. “No, we can wait for another time. But when we do, we’ll do it another way. If you look up at the ceiling, not at the tub, the water will run down your hair and your back, not into your face. I promise you won’t feel so scared.”

The child considered the advice for a moment and said, “Aunt Julia?”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t my mommy look up at the sky when she went in the lake? Didn’t she know that the water wouldn’t have gotten her then?”

Julia hugged Katie close again and said, “Oh, baby, I don’t know why she didn’t look up. I know we both wish she had, though. Maybe it was just too much water all at once, not like the shallow bit in this bathtub.”

Katie arched back, looked at Julia with eyes glistening with tears. Still, a subtle hint of a smile curved her lips. “You’re all wet, Aunt Julia.”

Relief flowed through Julia. She laughed. “I guess I am.” Plucking her damp blouse from her chest, she said, “See? A little water never hurt anybody.”

Katie sat down in the tepid water, pursed her lips in a determined line and stared at the ceiling. “Okay, you can do it now,” she said.

A minute later, Katie had clean hair and Julia couldn’t stop thinking about her sister, who, in her last moment of life, with her child sleeping a few yards away, didn’t look up.

AT CLOSING TIME, six o’clock the next night, what had started out as a picture-perfect autumn day ended with dark thunderheads blanketing the mountains and lightning illuminating the valleys between the tallest hills. Julia and Cora carried rocking chairs in from the store’s front porch and removed hanging baskets from the eaves before the storm could send them tumbling down the mountain. Fighting a near gale-force wind, Julia turned tables upside down on the porch floor and advised her mother to seek shelter. “I’m almost done,” she hollered to Cora. “You and Katie make sure the windows in the store are closed. I’ll be right in.”

Cora ducked inside just as the first fat drops of rain hit the shingle roof over the veranda. By the time Julia secured the last of the outside decorations, the wind had driven the downpour sideways, pelting the wood slat floor and dampening her clothes. She ran into the store, closed and bolted the door and took the roll of paper towels Cora handed her. Wiping her arms and legs, she said, “This is what we used to call a toad strangler.”

“And how,” Cora said, her worried gaze fixed on the closest window. “It’s nights like this I really miss your father. We’ll probably lose power before this one’s over.” She lifted a lacy curtain panel and peered out at the pitch-black evening sky.

Julia placed her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Come away from the window, Mama. You know it’s not safe to be near glass when there’s wind and lightning.”

Cora started to walk away, but stopped and went back. “My goodness, Julia,” she said. “I think I see headlights coming up the mountain. Who would be fool enough to be out on a night like this?”

Julia joined her at the window. “Someone caught on Whisper before they realized the storm was going to be this bad is my guess.”

“I’ll wait by the door to see if they pull in to ride it out.” She looked over her shoulder at Julia. “You and Katie go in the back room and get those old lanterns and oil your dad kept there. If this person passes us by, we’ll still have time to make it to the cabin before the worst of it hits.”

Julia took Katie’s hand. As they went into the storeroom, Julia noticed headlights veering into their lot. A few seconds later, the front door opened. A gust of wind sent the chimes above the entrance into a jangling frenzy, which was followed by a rumbling bellow of thunder.

And then the door was closed, reducing the wind to a steady ominous howl. The sound Julia heard next made her heart pound and her hand freeze around the glass chimney of a hurricane lantern. She wasn’t prepared for that strong baritone voice from her past.

“Hi, Mrs. Sommerville,” the man said. “Some night, isn’t it?” Silence stretched for a few seconds until he added, “I bet you don’t remember me.”

Cora gasped. “For heaven’s sake. Cameron Birch?”

He chuckled. “In the dripping flesh, and am I ever glad you’re still open.”

Julia tucked the lantern into the bend of her elbow and pressed it against her chest to keep from dropping it. Making her way to the storeroom entrance, she stood on the threshold. Her curiosity urged her to peek around the door frame, but her feet felt glued to the floor.

“Who’s out there, Aunt Julia?” Katie asked from behind her.

“I’m not sure,” she lied. “Probably someone looking to get out of the storm.” She leaned against the open door and listened.

“We were just talking about you the other day,” Cora said.

“We?”

“My daughter’s here with me.”

Cameron coughed. His voice was raspy when he said, “Tina?”

Julia held her breath, fearful that the mention of her sister might send Cora into tears. But she calmly answered, “No. My younger girl, Julia’s visiting for a while.”

“I remember Julia,” he said. “She was a student of mine when I taught at Riverton. Smart girl. Got excellent grades, as I recall.”

“She has a job in Manhattan now,” Cora said. “She’s a reporter.”

“Good for her.”

Julia heard footsteps and assumed Cameron was choosing supplies. “Is she married?” he asked after a moment.

“No,” Cora said.

Katie tugged on the end of Julia’s blouse. “Why don’t we go out?” she asked.

“We will,” Julia said. “In just a minute. But for now I need you to be very quiet.”

Katie dropped her hand. “Okay.”

Thunder rumbled over the rooftop, and Julia missed the next words spoken. When the sound faded she heard Cameron say, “I had just started up to my grandfather’s place when the storm hit. I was hoping to buy enough supplies from you to get by until morning.”

“Pick out what you need,” Cora said. “But you might want to wait until the weather clears before you continue up the mountain. This road is slippery in a rainstorm. You can stay in the cabin with us till it’s safe.”

That’s just great. Julia wasn’t really thrilled with the idea of the four of them sitting in the cabin parlor talking about old times, which in retrospect were alternately tragic and embarrassing. But then an even worse picture formed in her mind. Cameron’s wife was probably out in the car. If he accepted Cora’s invitation, it would be the five of them huddled together until the storm passed. How cozy would that be, especially after she’d relived all those old memories the past few days.

Julia released the breath that had been trapped in her chest when Cameron declined. “Thanks anyway, but I can make it to the top. I’ve got four-wheel drive on a Jeep that can plow through anything and I think the rain’s letting up some now.”

Julia heard the rustle of paper and assumed Cora was filling a sack with supplies. She was thankful when the cash register drawer opened and closed, indicating the transaction was finished. “Nice seeing you again, Cameron,” Cora said. “How long you planning to be on Whisper?”

“I’m not sure. A while. My grandfather left the cabin to me when he died. This is the first chance I’ve had to come up here.”

“We’ll be seeing more of you then,” Cora said.

“Definitely.”

Wonderful. Julia winced. She didn’t look forward to running into Cameron and his wife. Although, thinking rationally, she’d been over Cameron for years. So why was she reacting like a love-struck college coed now?

“You be careful now,” Cora called just before the door closed.

Julia stepped aside and let Katie precede her into the store.

“What took you two so long?” Cora asked. “You won’t believe who was just…”

“I heard.”

“I guess the rumors about him coming back to Whisper were true,” Cora said. “Imagine Cameron Birch walking in here after we were discussing him the other day.”

“Yeah, imagine.” The lanterns still in her arms, Julia walked toward the rear of the store and glanced out the back door. “Well, come on. If we’re going to make it to the cabin, we’d better go now.”

Cora checked the lock on the front entrance and started to follow, but the squeal of brakes and the grating of twisting metal stopped her.