CALL MAMA (14 page)

Molly, visibly upset at Lucy's question, threw herself into her baking, attacking the dough as if to release tension within her. Her body shook with anger, not at Lucy, but with the unfeeling Brenda. Her thoughts wandered to one occasion when she attempted to interfere in a mother/daughter dispute, only to be put down firmly by her boss.

“I'm her mother, Molly. I will make that decision.”

Molly reddened as she recalled the rebuke. That moment was the turning point in her relationship when she relinquished any emotional responsibility and became simply an employee.

Suppose it had to come someday
.

Molly well remembered the day she took up residence with the Mears and met baby Brenda for the first time.

Such a cutie,
I thought, as Simon Mears placed the wriggling infant in my arms. We bonded quickly; Nora adored her kid “sister”. As Simon's business expanded, he left more and more of the care to me, but he did make a point of being home for bedtime, but these visits became fewer and fewer and I found myself in total care of the child. Ours was a close relationship, which changed when she completed her post-grad degree and took her place with her father on the board of Mears Empire.

She had always confided in me about her various boyfriends; I consoled her when they parted, rejoiced when they filled her life with laughter and picked up the pieces when disaster struck. And it did.

Brenda became pregnant by the young politician she had been dating for
many months, but the relationship wasn't to last.

I never saw her as mad as she was when he ended the relationship. Her poor father was at a loss to console her, but his headstrong daughter needed no consoling. Her anger was fierce. She made us swear never to reveal his name to anyone. I have never let his name pass my lips and here was her child, almost an adult, craving the information withheld from her.

“I'll tell my child about him when I know the time is right,” Brenda had told us all.

Brenda never really bonded with her daughter. Any attempts by me urging her to spend more time with Lucy were ignored.

“She'll grow up so quickly,” I would say to her. “The baby years will be gone before you know it.”

The only response was a cursory glance at her child and a polite enquiry as to her development.

“Let me know if she requires anything.”

Young Lucy wanted for nothing; she had all the material comforts available. Brenda spent lavishly on her child who was too young to be affected by her mother's lack of interest. I don't doubt she loves her daughter, but the lack of warmth!.

Lucy called me “mama”, the name she still uses to this day. It was the first word she spoke. Her mother dutifully attended school events and was fawned over by staff, who felt privileged to have the daughter of a prominent member of the community attend their school. They never failed to mention Lucy's musical talent. Brenda once told on her return from such a meeting;

“Lucy has a bright future ahead of her in the musical world,” commented one tutor. “One that we are privileged to nurture.”

She would acknowledge the remark with a wry smile, saying, “Hmm, we'll see.”

Brenda showed interest in Lucy's work for a time but never praised her. It was as if she didn't know how to express love.

When Lucy's music teacher first alerted her to the incredible talent of her child, Brenda threw dollars at providing the best instruments, set up a music room at home and employed Ken Farmer as her mentor. The man was in raptures at Lucy's ability to handle her cello and the ease with which she mastered the pianoforte. He felt his prodigy could skilfully handle any musical instrument that came her way.

Molly wiped a tear from her eye and continued with her thoughts:

And here we are, mother and daughter at loggerheads, not for the first time, and me, piggy-in-the-middle. As much as I'd like to shake sense into Brenda, I can't get involved. Her only child is moving further from her emotionally. I wish she would see how talented her child is, but she won't hear tell of Lucy following her musical dream. The kid hates the idea of a business career. It will all end in tears, I can see it coming, as sure as my name's Molly Kelly. To crown it all, the child wants to know about her father. I knew that would happen before too long. Her mother needs to tell her. Lucy has a right to know… but then… that's just my opinion…

Nora, returning home from a shopping expedition, found her mother attacking her chores with a fury, which she knew signalled trouble.

“What's wrong, mom?” she said, hugging the older woman.

“Oh, the usual! Lucy's upset and I've made things worse. She asked me who her father was and, of course, I couldn't reveal that now, could I?”

“No, mom, you're right. We made a promise and we have to keep to it, whether we like it or not. Where is Lucy?”

“She took off to her music room. Best leave her alone for a bit. She calms down once she picks up that cello. I don't think she'll come down for supper; you can take something up and she'll talk to you.”

Nora, using the pretext of wanting to show Lucy her purchases, chatted with the distressed child until calmness was restored.

“Wish you were my real sister,” said Lucy as she ate supper in her room, with Nora fussing around her, “and your mom was my mom. I hate my mother at times.”

“Lucy, you will always be like my real sister and we will be friends for life. You're so lucky that your mother is rich; you'll want for nothing. I'll always be an employee and have to work for a living.”

“I would trade places with you any day, Nora. I won't ever call her anything but ‘mother', never mom. At times I think she doesn't even like me; she has little time to spare from that damn business…”

Nora became silent, knowing how right Lucy was. Later that evening, she sat in silence in her apartment, thinking how lucky she was to be so loved.

Sure, Lucy has everything she will ever need materially, her financial future is secure, but I hate to see her so sad, crying out for her mother to acknowledge her talent, to acknowledge her existence even.

Her thoughts drifted to when Lucy was born, enriching the Mears household, and she, Nora, becoming an honorary elder sister to the cute baby, helping with her early care, revelling in her development and conscious that the child's mother spent less and less time with her daughter, relinquishing more and more care to the staff. “Let me know if she needs anything,” was the usual utterance, as she rushed off to yet another meeting.

Too busy to care, missed the special moments
, thought Nora as she remembered the precise moment when she and Brenda ceased being close friends and became employee and employer.

It was not long after Brenda had graduated from Cornell and began working with her father that she dropped me as a friend. We'd been brought up almost like sisters, best friends who played, laughed, shared secrets, dreamed dreams and promised to be friends forever. Thursday was our movie night… we would meet in town, eat dinner and head for the latest movie.

“Meet you as usual then?” I asked as I worked the breakfast room.

“Sorry, Nora, I've been thinking. Now that I'm involved in Father's firm and you are, in fact, an employee of mine, we should end our friendship. It would only lead to problems. I expect to be busier now. Could you clear these plates, please?” she concluded as she left the room, barely giving me a glance.

I felt slighted, and to say I was upset was putting it mildly. I felt like my ego had been destroyed in a second. Chores that day seemed endless. I couldn't wait to retreat to my room and let rip my anger and sorrow. Mom heard me crying.

“Honey, what's happened? Are you sick?”

I told her of my encounter with Brenda.

“Mom, I felt so small, like she'd slapped my face. Do our years of friendship count for nothing? She's a bitch. She thinks of no one but herself.”

“We have to face it, we've been put in our places, both of us; looks like our relationship has changed now that she's working for the firm.”

“You too, mom? Has she snubbed you?”

“Yeah, didn't want to say anything, but I was reminded we were employees, first and foremost.”

Having consoled her daughter, Molly returned to her chores and her own thoughts.

What I didn't tell my daughter was that our accommodation would no longer be free.

“You have been cosseted enough over the years. It's time to pull your weight around here,” said Brenda sharply.

Pull my weight!
I thought. I almost exploded with anger; I'd given a hundred percent to this family. I kept my lips sealed, my thoughts to myself. True, Brenda was always wilful, but never spiteful. I simply said, “Yes, ma'am,” and continued with my chores.

Life continued, with Nora and me attending to chores with a heavy heart. Calmness descended; we saw little of either Simon or Brenda as they worked ceaselessly to build their empire. That is, until one day a furious Brenda hollered for us to come to the kitchen where Simon, a pained expression on his face, sat beside his daughter.

“I'm pregnant, and before you even think of offering any congratulations, don't bother. My lover, my esteemed politician whose aim is to serve his country, has dropped me. He doesn't want a kid interfering with his plans. He threw money at me and told me to get rid of it. What I have to say to you is never, ever reveal to anyone the name of my child's father.”

My instinct was to take her in my arms as I used to do when she was upset, but that would not have been appreciated. I looked across at her father, a broken man, who seemed to have shrunk into himself. I hadn't noticed until then how ill he looked and a thought struck me…
Oh God, he's really sick
. Nora and I swore allegiance to her, assured our boss, as we had now come to think of her, that we would keep her secret.

“After all,” I couldn't resist saying, “we have been loyal to you all your life.”

The irony was lost to her.

“My father and I have a request to ask. Will you help with the care of the baby?”

“Of course we will. It will be good to have a young ‘un around the place again.”

She stormed out of the room without a glance at us, giving the impression that this was everyone else's fault but hers. Simon remained seated.

“Molly, Nora.” He beckoned us to sit closer. “Forgive my daughter's attitude please. I know she's changed towards you, and you, of all people, don't deserve it. I have tried to get her to loosen up, but she's gotten a hard shell around her over the years and this pregnancy will make her even more difficult to live with. I blame myself for bringing her into the firm too soon. It's gone to her head completely and I'm not strong enough to fight her. She is brusque with my staff and I fear they will dislike her. You both need to know, I have terminal cancer, they say twenty-four months or so…”

His voice trailed off… I sensed underlying fear, poor man.

Simon wanted to talk more; we sat with him for over an hour drinking tea, until tiredness drove him to retire for the night. As he left the room he turned to me.

“Molly, please don't abandon my difficult daughter when I'm gone. I know she's fickle, but she'll need you both, even if she won't admit it. I told her only yesterday about my prognosis, then she dropped her own bombshell. In a sense I'm pleased, as she will have the little one to focus on when I'm no longer here.”

With that, he shuffled off to bed; only then did I see how thin he was… how sick.

The next few months passed quickly, luring me into a sense of serenity. Simon handed over most of the running of the firm to his daughter, while retaining overall control, but becoming weaker as the weeks passed. Medical assistants were employed to attend to his needs. The only real dealings I had with him was to tempt him to eat by producing some of his favourite meals. Brenda's pregnancy proceeded normally and she continued with her business ventures as usual.

“I'm not ill,” she would retort when it was suggested she rest more.

Her daughter was delivered safely. Within a short period, the new mother returned to work with renewed vigour, as if she found childbirth a disruption to her busy life. Simon rejoiced in the birth of his tiny granddaughter, enjoyed many hours with the beautiful baby, conscious of the fact that her care was more and more in the hands of his household staff and that his own time with her was now limited.

Molly, seated in her own apartment, knitted furiously as if to vent her feelings on the garment, as she recalled meeting Brenda's associates for the first time.

One day, I was instructed to prepare a dinner party for seven people. Brenda had, with her father's blessing, gathered together her own specially selected team of trusted associates and wished to introduce them to him during a bonding session. It was the first time I had met Myra Hill. I thought her a haughty kind of person; those cold eyes that never made direct contact with me as I served the meal gave me the shivers.
She'll do well with Brenda
, I thought. Two of a kind.

These dinner parties became a regular occurrence over the next few months and years. The highlight of the evening was when Lucy was brought into the company to be admired and fussed over, before being removed to the sanctuary of her nursery. Bob Lees and his partner Justin Palmer showed genuine interest, making all the right noises at the delightful child, unlike the aloof Myra and, to a degree, the Scotts. Olivia gave her a cursory glance; “sweet kid” was about as much as she could summon from those overly painted lips, while her husband, Ron, smiled dutifully as the adoring mother looked on.

Simon Mears' death had a shattering effect on his daughter, who had approached his illness with denial, making the final event more traumatic for her. It was the first time in many years that she had come to me in tears, seeking comfort.

“Oh Molly, what am I going to do without him? My dad! He told me how ill he was and I wanted to get him the best specialists, fly them in if necessary. God, we could well afford it, but he knew nothing could be done and did not want any more intrusive treatment. He just wished what time he had left to have some quality. He loved his little granddaughter and wanted to spend hours with her. Oh, Molly!”

As she sobbed in my arms, tension subsided in her shaking body. Finally, she became more composed and immersed herself into the funeral arrangements. Almost with undue haste, she returned to work. That did not surprise me.

The years flew or so it seemed to me, and young Lucy grew to be a delightful child who spent most of her time with me in the kitchen, chattering non-stop, confiding in me or following Nora around as she worked her chores. We adored each other.

Molly Kelly
, I chided to myself.
You won't get supper ready sitting around reminiscing or worrying about madam upstairs.

Madam, as Molly privately referred to her employer, sat in her office poring over the latest sales figures. Her recent spat with Lucy had had an unnerving effect on her. Normally she ignored her daughter's outbursts, but, this time, Lucy's plea touched a nerve in the normally resolute woman.

‘I'll make a point of taking time out with her to discuss her future and persuade her to come around to my way of thinking. I can still encourage her to continue learning with Ken Farmer; after all, I've spent a load of dollars equipping her music room. Granted, she plays beautifully, but come on… music as a career…?'

Returning home that evening, Brenda looked for her daughter only to be reminded by Nora that she was staying over with Abigail.

“Slipped my mind. I'll speak to her tomorrow. By the way, how did it go at the dentist?”

“Good, thanks, the tooth was extracted and I'm fine now.”

Nora thought that was about the longest conversation the two of them had had in months.