The Girls on Rose Hill (18 page)

Suddenly Brendan looked defeated. He looked old. "I don't know what you want me to say here, Ellen. I don't know what you want me to do."

"Go home," I said, almost gently. "I want you to go home."

When I came down from my shower, he'd gone.

Chapter 18

Rose

"Rose, I have a surprise for you," Molly said from the doorway.

"Ellen? Is Ellen here?" I asked hopefully.

"Well, no. Her cold is still very bad. But, I'm sure she'll come as soon as she can," Molly said unconvincingly.

"Oh." I slumped back onto the bed.

"What kind of greeting is that?" scolded a quivering brogue from the hallway.

"Auntie Maura! What are you doing here?"

Maura, her spine curled with osteoporosis, shuffled over to me. "Molly sprung me from Sunny Hills. Now, love, how are you holding up?"

Struggling to sit up I said, "I'm fine."

"Fine? Ah love, you're far from fine, God help you." Auntie Maura landed a dry kiss on my cheek. With effort, Auntie Maura settled herself in the chair while Molly looked on from the doorway. "Sure, my poor heart broke when I heard the news. I wanted to come sooner but Sean and Jimmy wouldn't let me come. And of course those witches they married were too busy to drive me over. It might interfere with their nail appointments. I tell you, girls," she said looking over to Molly, "you're lucky to have daughters." Turning back to me, she continued, "I know you've only the one, Rosie, but thank God you had a girl. You don't have to depend on the favors of other women's daughters." I smiled. Her stream of chatter was a comfort. Having married a fellow Irishman, Maura's brogue had never been diluted by her many decades in New York. It had been a long time since I heard the County Kerry accent; it reminded me of my mother.

"Ellen came up from Washington to stay with Rosie. She's been a godsend," Molly said, trying to sound sincere. "She'd be here only she's fighting a heavy cold."

"The poor thing. Well, Rosie, you're very lucky. Ellen was always such a beautiful girl. And smart. She's a credit to you, she is."

"Thank you, Maura."

"And the grandchildren? Tell me what they're up to?"

We chatted for the next half hour about our various grandchildren, and in Maura's case, her great-grandchildren. Auntie Maura, at eighty, was the sole surviving O'Connor sibling, and the de facto matriarch of our branch of the family. Aside from osteoporosis and a touch of arthritis, she was healthy as a horse. The only reason she was moved to Sunny Hills Assisted Living instead of one of her sons' homes was that neither daughter-in-law was willing to live with her sharp tongue. Molly and I both thought it was shameful that they stuck poor Maura in a home just because she spoke her mind.

I enjoyed my visit with Maura, although her wrinkled face and watery blue eyes were a sad reminder of what I would've eventually looked like had I not been cursed with this cancer. However, I soon tired. Maura seemed to sense this, so she sent Molly off to get her a cup of coffee.

Maura stroked my hand. "Now, love, they tell me that you're troubled. That you've been having bad dreams."

"It's nothing, Auntie Maura. Just the drugs they have me on."

"Well, I've been troubled ever since I heard your news." She was still for a moment and then grabbed my hand. "You know, Rosie, maybe I shouldn't say this now, but Margaret and I never felt right about letting you live with Peter. But sure, Kitty was your mother. She was within her rights to take you. But, we always felt bad. You have to know that."

I said nothing.

Undeterred, Maura continued. "I prayed for you every night, Rosie. I prayed that things were not as we suspected." Her eyes began to tear. "But they were, weren't they, love?"

I looking into her kind weathered face. "It doesn't matter now. It was so long ago."

"But, it weighs on me. I have to know, can you forgive me?"

"Auntie Maura, there's nothing to forgive."

"There is, child, there is. We should have tried harder with Kitty. Tried harder to get her away from him. But, she was my older sister and believe it or not I was easily bullied in my youth. Especially by Kitty."

My temples throbbed. "We don't need to talk about this. You shouldn't trouble yourself over this."

Her chin quivered. "But you are troubled, aren't you, Rosie?"

"I have nothing else to do but lie in this bed and think. Think about my life and the choices I made. I'll admit, I have thought about Peter these past few weeks. But what's done is done."

"So you forgive me?"

"Of course. Of course," I said faintly.

"Maybe you need to forgive your mother too."

Forgive my mother? For years my resentment of my mother was as much a part of me as my black hair and blue eyes. Some days it rose to the surface, such as when she and Ellen would giggle in the kitchen together as if I didn't exist. Other times, when Mama and I were in the garden, giggling together ourselves, less so. But, if I was honest, it was always there.

"Maybe," was all I said.

"She did her best. But she was proud, so proud. She couldn't admit she made a mistake. She loved you, Rose. She always loved you."

A flash then, flew across my mind. I could almost hear my mother tear into Mrs. Hennessy down the street when the nosy neighbor made a remark about my heavily pregnant belly. "I know."

"Look who I found," Molly announced from the doorway.

My Ellen stood behind Molly, her eyes soft, her skin pink from the sun. Ellen looked relaxed, almost happy. Nothing like the harridan who'd flown out of my room days earlier.

With effort, Maura rose from her chair and embraced Ellen. "Ah, love, you look lovely."

"You too, Auntie Maura." Ellen returned the embrace instead of standing there stiffly as she usually did. Ellen wasn't one for hugs. Even as a child, she'd squirm out of my arms.

They chatted briefly while I looked on and willed the creeping pain to stay at bay while my daughter was here. However my agony must have shown on my face because Molly left to call the nurse. Soon the nurse was shooing everyone out of the room while she attended to me.

"Mom, I'll just walk Maura out," Ellen said gently. "But I'll be back."

I nodded with relief.

Chapter 19

Ellen

I was beyond surprised when Molly greeted me in the hallway with a hearty, and seemingly sincere, hug. "Oh, thank God you're all right. You are all right, aren't you?"

"I'm fine, Molly. And I'm sorry..."

Molly rubbed my arm. "Not at all. So long as you're here now. That's what matters."

I couldn't believe my luck at avoiding a Molly smack-down. "Yes. I'm here now."

Molly led me by the hand into my mother's room, as if afraid that I'd disappear again. My mother's eyes were bright in her shrunken face as Auntie Maura patted the back of her hand reassuringly. When she saw me, my mother looked happy and relieved. Underneath my fake smile, I squirmed. My escapist romp with Billy while my mother was lying in her deathbed now seemed so selfish. Molly nattered on about my "cold" and Auntie Maura asked me how I was feeling as I walked her to Molly's car, but I knew my mother didn't buy it.

But luckily my mother's never been one to hold a grudge. She's also never been one to delve below the surface of any relationship, so we were both quite happy to gloss over my three day absence. Just as we have glossed over so much of our family's history. No more questions about Denis, no more questions about her aborted vocation. So much for closure.

The next week was calm, almost peaceful. My days were spent with my mother. I either watched her sleep or quietly chatted with her about nothing in particular: my children's preparations for college; the priest's sermon that was broadcast over the loudspeakers daily from the small chapel down the hall. My mother seemed calm and happy to have me near her. I bit my tongue about ten times a day but I continued the loving mother-daughter facade. Billy was right. I had to continue "doing the right thing" until the end. For my sake as much as hers.

Brendan called my mother's room twice over the week. Rose of course was delighted to hear from him. It gave her comfort to believe that my marriage was a happy one, my perfect little family intact. When I picked up the phone, he was his usual flirty, offhand self, as if our confrontation in the kitchen never happened. Like Rose, Brendan had decided to ignore my three day rendezvous.

But not Billy. Except for my two nights of Rose duty, we spent every night together in his Northport oasis. And I hadn't felt guilty about it. At least, not too guilty.

So things were going well, or as well as can be expected when you're conducting an illicit affair while your mother lays dying from terminal brain cancer. But I felt at peace finally; at peace with my mother and at peace with myself. I was a little late getting to St. Francis one morning—Billy and I had had a late night—when I ran into Sister Elizabeth in the hallway.

"Ellen! Aren't you looking marvelous?"

"I am?" I asked uncertainly.

"Yes. You look different somehow."

"I've gotten a little sun." And a little lovin' I left unsaid.

"Well, you look great." Despite her smile, her eyes were dead. Sister Elizabeth must have held the hand of hundreds of dying patients over her long career, yet it appeared that the death of her good friend was wearing on her. She gently touched my cheek. "I'm happy to see that you're holding up well. The next few weeks will be the hardest."

"You think she's near the end?"

"She's holding on, fighting it. But, it can't be much longer." Sister's smile faded. "She's in with the priest now."

"Why?"

"She asked to see him and make her last confession. He's been in there a while. They should be done soon."

The woman's been in her bed for the last six weeks. What on earth could she be confessing to? But I didn't say this to Sister Elizabeth. I simply told her I'd wait outside my mother's room until they were finished.

I arrived to find Molly pacing the hallway, the door to my mother's room slightly ajar. Although we all had assigned times to sit with my mother, Molly came at other times as well. We'd been getting along surprisingly well this past week. Given the circumstances, I think we both decided to cut the other some much needed slack. After we hugged hello Molly sat in the chair across from my mother's room while I took the one closest to my mother's door. I opened my bag to take out a book when the shouting started.

"I did it, Father. God help me I did it."

"Now, Miss Murphy, Rose, calm yourself."

"I will not calm myself. You're not listening to me. I've waited more than forty years to confess this. Don't you dare tell me I don't know what I'm saying. I know what I'm saying. I killed him. I killed my stepfather!"

I looked over at Molly, stunned. Molly rose from her chair and stood in the middle of the hallway, frozen, unsure what to do. I had no such hesitation. Disregarding the sanctity of the sacrament, I pushed the door open.

"You're a murderer? On top of everything else you're a murderer?"

My mother, turned to the priest and spat, "You pup! Didn't you close the door?"

The young foreign priest looked baffled.

I stood next to her bed. "Who are you? You killed your stepfather? Did you kill Kitty too? I suppose I should be grateful that I wasn't a victim of crib death."

"Ellen, no..." My mother reached for my hand.

I drew back my hand. "You pretend to be so holy, so good. You'd give me grief every time I missed mass. But you're a monster. A murdering, lying monster."

"Ellen." Molly grabbed my arm. "That's enough."

I spun around to face Molly. "Did you know about this?"

Molly wouldn't meet my eye.

"Fine. I'm done now anyway. I'm done with the lot of you!"

Chapter 20