Skyward (31 page)

Ella reached up to hold Marion’s chubby hand, still sticky from the snack she’d been eating. Ella was thankful that Marion was as yet a nestling. It was, she knew, only a summer away until Marion went off on her own to school for the first time. That would be her first nudge off the platform, that brief air lift before returning for food and comfort. Someday, how ever, she would go off and not return home, and it was Ella’s duty to urge her to go, to teach Marion how to fly.

Ella squeezed the hand and smiled up at the child in Harris’s arms. He looked down at her, smiled and wrapped his free arm around her.

This was, she knew in her heart, one of those life moments she’d remember forever. It felt to her as though the sun was shining on the three of them, spotlighting them. Her family! She’d never felt such a bond. Her dream of a family of her own had come true. She’d grabbed the brass ring. Not the gold ring, not the one worn on the left ring finger of her hand. But as she stood beside this man and child she loved so completely, her heart trembled and she told herself that brass was good enough. After all, it was more happiness than she’d ever believed would be hers.

Gliding.
Raptors tuck in their wings to glide downward at a controlled angle called gliding. By combining soaring and gliding from one column of rising air to the next, raptors can efficiently fly for many miles. Soaring carries the raptor upward on a thermal. Gliding is the downhill ride.

19

IT WAS THE MOST ORDINARY OF MORNINGS. ELLA awoke at 6:00 a.m., dressed quickly, wound her skein of hair and prepared a simple breakfast of biscuits, ham and grapefruit. Harris was leaving for a flight demonstration and would be gone for the day, so Ella and Marion were busy packing a cooler of snacks and drinks for him. They were having fun writing notes to Harris on napkins so he’d be surprised when he opened them and he’d know how much he was loved. Marion prattled happily, campaigning again for a puppy. She longed for one and was close to convincing Ella to be her ally against her father. They were chatting about this when Ella heard the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. She smiled, thinking Maggie was arriving at the center. Maggie had been busy lately and she hoped her friend could spare a minute for a cup of coffee and a quick visit. So she was pleased when she heard foot falls on the front porch.

“Come on in,” she called from the kitchen. “It’s open.” She heard the door creak and leaned back from the sink to look through the kitchen to the living room.

It wasn’t Maggie. This woman was as tall as her but slender as a reed. Instead of red, this woman’s hair was blond and worn shaggy to her shoulders, and she had legs that went on forever under her short skirt. She had the looks of someone who might once have been beautiful back when her skin was dewy and her eyes clear and full of youthful confidence. Though still striking, this woman looked tired. Worn-out by bad choices and hard living. She wasn’t old, but time had not been kind.

Ella slowly dragged her hands from the sink and dried them on the towel hanging from her waist. She felt as if everything was in slow motion, the way she’d heard people describe what it was like the seconds before a car accident. They saw it coming, knew disaster was going to strike, but they could do nothing to avert it.

Ella knew who this woman standing in the living room was. Knew before Marion peeked around the corner, gasped and sprinted across the room, leaping into the woman’s arms.

“Mama!”

“Marion? Are you my Marion?” the woman cried, her accent a heavy Southern rural. “No! I can’t believe my baby has gotten so big! Let me get a good look at you.” She leaned away from Marion’s tight grasp to hold her at arm’s length. “Why, you are the prettiest thing I ever did see!”

Marion’s face was flushed with pleasure as she lunged forward again to hold her mother tight.

Ella watched in a desolate silence and felt as though Marion’s arms were crushing her heart instead. She tugged at the towel and laid it on the counter, leaving her hand there to steady herself.

The woman detached herself from Marion’s grip and rose to stand. She smoothed out her T-shirt, her fingers tipped with scarlet, while her gaze slowly circled the room with a proprietary air. Ella lowered her arms and waited until the gaze landed on her. “Who are
you?
” the woman asked with a combative tone.

Ella drew back her shoulders and stepped into the room.

“It’s my mama!” Marion exclaimed, reaching out to grab hold of her mother’s hand again, eyeing her with adoration.

“That’s right,” she said, placing her free hand on her hip. “I’m Fannie Henderson and this is my house. And you are?” she asked again.

Ella gathered her hands together. “I’m Ella Majors, Marion’s nanny.”

Understanding dawned on Fannie and a kind of relief fluttered across her face. “You mean the baby-sitter?” She laughed shortly and her gaze insolently traveled over Ella. “Yeah, I should’ve known. You must be new. You’re not the same one I met before.” She turned back to Marion, dismissing Ella with her shoulder. “I swear, you sure go through them, honey pie,” she said to the child. “I can’t keep track.”

“I should imagine there are a number of baby-sitters you haven’t met. It’s been what?—one year, two, since you’ve come by?”

Fannie straightened slowly, and when she turned her head, Ella could see the battle lines had been clearly drawn.

“I don’t see where that’s any business of yours.”

“Anything that concerns Marion is my business.”

“Is that so?”

Ella tightened her lips and glanced over at Marion who stood near her mother listening intently. Ella felt the force of a hundred words sizzling on her tongue, but Marion’s rounded eyes silenced them. She returned a pointed gaze to Fannie, forced a tight smile on her face, then replied, “Quite.”

Fannie smirked and looked down at her daughter. “Honey pie, where’s Daddy? I want to say hello.”

“He’s at the clinic.”

“Want to go with me to find him?” she asked, and when Marion nodded eagerly, the two of them began walking hand in hand toward the door.

“Marion!” Ella called after her. The child stopped short and twisted to look back at her, the picture of innocence.

Ella racked her brain, trying to think of a good-enough excuse to keep the child from going out the door with Fannie. There wasn’t one, and it was silly, anyway. Of course Marion wanted to be with her mother.

“Never mind.”

“Let’s go, precious,” Fannie said with a smug grin. The last thing Ella heard from the porch was Fannie’s high-pitched laugh and, “Won’t he be surprised?”

Ella didn’t know how long she stood at the sink, mechanically washing dishes, pots, anything she could get her hands on. She had to keep working or she’d walk out the door straight to the clinic to find out what was happening. It wasn’t long, however, before Harris came rushing into the house. He paused at the kitchen, a hand on the door frame, his gaze searching.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his words breathy from his run.

Ella nodded but kept her eyes on the sink. “Yes. Of course.”

“I didn’t expect her to turn up.”

“I know. But she’s here.”

Harris stepped forward to put his arms around her. She leaned into him, resting her face against his shirt and inhaling his familiar scent.

“Let’s get away. We can go fishing tomorrow,” he said close to her ear. “We can spend some time to talk this through.”

“Tomorrow?” she asked, stepping back and looking at him through disbelieving eyes.

“Sure. Why not?”

“You don’t think I’d go on an outing with
her?
”

“She wouldn’t have to come—”

“Oh, Harris,” Ella said, tossing her sponge and splashing water. “Fannie is here. You have to see what her being here means to us. To Marion. That poor child is beside herself. She won’t leave her mother’s side for a second. Besides, even if she didn’t come along, what kind of a day would it be, knowing we’d come back to her here? In our house.”

She choked on the final phrase. “What am I saying? It’s not my house.”

“Yes, it is.”

When she shook her head a few tears spilled down her cheek. “When Fannie had said ‘my house,’ it hurt because there was validity to it. When I say it, it sounds false in my ears, no matter how much I wish it were true.” She grabbed for a towel and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I knew this day would come, but I’d hoped it would delay a while. Oh, Harris, we’ve had so precious little time together.”

“What are you saying?”

She looked up into his eyes. “Maybe I should leave.”

“No.”

“How can I stay with things the way they are?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but they heard the front door swing open and Fannie’s voice, high with forced cheer.

“Hello? Where is everyone?”

Ella and Harris exchanged a glance.

“We’ll talk tonight,” he told her, grabbing her hand. “We’ll find a place to be alone. Promise you won’t leave before I get back.”

“Okay.”

“I wish I didn’t have to leave now,” he muttered, almost a curse. “I’d send Maggie on this one but it’s important and…”

“Harris?” Fannie called again from the front room.

“Go,” Ella said. “You have to.” She looked up with desperation in her eyes. “Just come back as quickly as you can.”

Harris left for his flight demonstration. Ella found she couldn’t bear to stay in the house while Fannie and Marion had a giggle fest and painted their nails while watching television. Leaving Marion in Fannie’s care, she hurried to the clinic.

She found Maggie standing outside the clinic’s narrow front steps beside the two black vulture orphans. The Tweedles were begging for food, standing in a low squat with their wings drooping.

“They’re back!” Maggie shouted to her as she approached. She stood pink faced with her arms crossed as they waddled back and forth aimlessly. “They walked all the way back from their pen.
Walked!
”

“What went wrong?” Ella asked when she drew near.

“I don’t know,” Maggie groaned. “When I went to check on them the other day, they were plastered against the fence, just dying to join the other vultures. So we let them out. They seemed okay the first couple of days, but…” She raised her arms in a futile gesture. “Here they are again.”

“They’re not the only thing that’s back,” Ella said ominously. When Maggie looked at her with curiosity she said, “Fannie’s here.”

Maggie’s mouth dropped open. “No! When?”

“Just this morning.”

“Does Harris know? Did he see her before he left for the demonstration?”

Ella nodded and put her hands to her face.

“Oh, sugar, how are you?” she asked, coming close and placing a comforting hand on Ella’s shoulder.

“Oh, Maggie, it’s been torturous. It was instant dislike. And the woman can’t stop talking. She’s watching television with Marion and there’s nothing I can do to stop her. I’m just the
baby-sitter.
What can I say to the child’s mother?”

“You can tell her to stop,” she said with righteous indignation.

“No,” she said, dropping her hands. “That’s not my place.

It’s Harris’s place.”

Maggie made a face. “What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? I thought about leaving, of course. Right away. At least until she left again. But when I thought it through, I realized that I can’t leave Marion. Who’d take care of her? She has to have her blood tested and her shots several times a day. Harris is busy and Fannie doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of a diabetic child. The risks for Marion are too high for me to get emotional. No,” she said with decision. “I won’t leave Marion.”

“Well, Fannie won’t stay long. Not if her track record holds. How long can you hang in there for?”

“I don’t know,” Ella said wearily. “Not long. I’m not a nice person. I’ll crack and murder her in her sleep. A little shot of what we give the birds ought to do it.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll never report it.”

Ella laughed, short and pained. Then her smile fell and she grew serious again. “Oh, Maggie, this is so hard. I
hate
women like Fannie. She’s my worst nightmare. I’ve had to deal with women like her for so many years. They expect everyone to take care of them, to pick up their mess—and that’s exactly what I ended up doing, over and over again at the hospital. And it’s so tragic because their messes are their children who’ve either gotten sick or hurt or beaten or die…” She put her palms to her eyes. “You don’t want to know what I’ve seen. I just can’t forgive women like her for neglecting their children.”

She dropped her hands and her face hardened with resolve. “Least of all Fannie. She has Harris. She has Marion. They adore her, and she throws it all away. She doesn’t deserve them.” Her voice hitched. “Maggie, she’ll hurt them again. I just know it.”

Maggie reached out for Ella’s hand. “No, she won’t. You’ll be there to stop her.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Ella took a deep breath, collecting herself. “I’ll have to talk to Harris alone. First chance I get. I’ll tell him what I’m thinking. He’ll have to make a decision.”

“It’s a long time coming.”

“I’m afraid, Maggie,” she said with whispered urgency.

“Don’t be. Hey. What’s to choose?” She tried to sound confident. “He loves you, anyone can see that. Hang in there. He’ll send Fannie packing.”

Ella sighed heavily and looked over at the vultures. They’d flown up to the roof of the clinic and were picking at the shingles with their hooked beaks. It wouldn’t take long for them to start doing some serious damage.

Ella stayed in the clinic or the kitchen as much as she could for the rest of the day and into the evening. No pot, tub or appliance was safe from her desperate need to keep busy. She knew what she was doing. She was hiding out, too chicken to step out and deal with the bigger mess that was her life. So she scrubbed.

Harris returned home in the early afternoon, then he and Fannie had gone on a long walk together. Marion sat on the porch waiting for them like a left-behind puppy. When they returned, Marion ran out to meet them. Ella stood at the window and watched as the child bounded into her mother’s arms and they embraced while Harris stood close, watching his wife and child. They made a charming family tableau against the backdrop of green trees and spring blooms, and Ella knew a desperate sense of foreboding.

She drew away from the window and busied herself setting the dinner table when they walked into the house. Harris carried Fannie’s black zipped duffel bag and tote. His face looked beleaguered as he dropped the luggage to the floor. Fannie’s eyes were red-rimmed but she was smiling. Marion, of course, was ecstatic.

Harris looked at Ella and said evenly, “Fannie will be staying here for a few days. Until she gets back on her feet.”

There was a stunned silence during which Ella swallowed her defeat. “I see,” she replied without a show of emotion. She tried to marshal her spinning thoughts. “Well then… We should see to sleeping arrangements.”

Fannie laughed with disbelief. “Sleeping arrangements? I’ll sleep where I always sleep. In my own room.”