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Except for the one where I had a father. Sisters.
My heart hurt. I’d thought putting some time between me and that awful night at the class reunion would have brought me more clarity. I was only more confused. Why hadn’t Susan contacted me? Should I stand back and let her make the first move? Had she tried? What if she’d come to my Facebook page and found it protected and just given up?
Or did she just not want anything to do with me? That wasn’t a possibility I was ready to face.
I thought about calling Neil, but after witnessing the meltdown I’d had back home, he’d probably jump in a car and speed right over. I didn’t want that, so I curled up in bed and promised myself that I’d have the answers, or at least a new perspective, soon.
Any day, now.
Chapter Six
Woodlawn Cemetery’s Brookside Garden had a beautiful rushing stream and meandering pastoral paths. It was tranquil and idyllic. When a two year old wasn’t running around and around in circles, shrieking and babbling with delight.
Though Olivia lived with us most of the time, we’d worked out a visitation arrangement with Valerie that gave her time with her granddaughter and us a little break, now and then. Because Valerie still worked and had a life of her own, and because Olivia was still very young, we’d decided that a week every two months was just about right. Sometimes, we flew to London for the hand-off. When Valerie was in New York, we met in the cemetery.
Neil and Valerie and I tried our best to incorporate Emma and Michael into as much of Olivia’s life as we could. We’d started bringing her to visit their grave, a large rock on the bank of the stream with a bronze medallion set into it, as soon as the weather had warmed up. Valerie often remarked that it was good to bring her, so that Emma and Michael could see their daughter playing. I wasn’t sure Neil was so keen on those remarks; he had a rather dim view of spirituality, especially these days. He tolerated them, though, because they helped Valerie get by. That was really all any of us could do so far. We’d only been waiting about ten minutes when Valerie arrived, but Olivia was already red-faced and sweaty, her wispy blonde curls stuck to her head. She spotted her grandmother at once and ran, chubby little hands extended in front of her.
Valerie stooped and spread her arms wide. “Come to Grandma,” she cooed, and lifted Olivia into her arms. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”
“Hello, Valerie,” Neil said, rising from the bench he’d been sitting on. He held out a hand to shake hers. When Emma was still alive, he would have hugged Valerie and air-kissed her beside her cheek. Now, he was stiff and formal about everything. I didn’t know why, and considering our past difficulties, I didn’t really want to discuss Valerie any more than strictly necessary. The result of his unusually cool demeanor, however, was that I overcompensated by being way warmer than I ever would have to her under different circumstances.
I gave her a big smile and approached her for a hug I didn’t want to give and she probably didn’t want to receive. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Valerie. In any other life, I would probably have admired her. She’d done the single mom thing like my mom had, albeit with the financial benefit of a huge company with her name right in the title. She and Neil had started Elwood & Stern together and kept it going while co-parenting their daughter. He’d once described the arrangement as “less of a custody battle with each other than a battle of wills with Emma”.
She had been an awful lot like her mother.
“Any big plans during your week off?” Valerie asked, looking between the two of us expectantly.
“Not stepping on any toys,” I joked. “We have an old friend coming for a visit. What are you and Olivia going to do?”
Valerie adjusted Olivia on her hip and swung her auburn hair out of her face. She’d ditched the radical blonde highlights she’d gotten the year before but kept the same asymmetrical bob. “We’ll probably do a bit of shopping. Maybe go to the zoo. Would you like that, Olivia? Would you like to go see the penguins?”
“And you’ve replaced that baby gate at the top of the landing?” Neil asked. I almost elbowed him to correct his sharp tone.
She took it in stride, probably through years of having to deal with him. “No. No, I just had them dig a large pit in the center of the staircase. Then, I filled the pit with vipers.”
“Well, if that doesn’t teach her not to crawl up the stairs, then she can’t be taught,” I said, giving Neil a sideways look.
