Why the Sky Is Blue (17 page)

I was marveling at a photo of Ed sitting on a rock with surf behind him and a wonderful smile on his face. I jumped when Lara spoke from behind me.

“That’s my favorite picture of my dad,” she said.

“Lara!” I said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I should have asked first.”

But she would hear none of it.

“You’re not intruding,” she said, as if the very idea was laughable. “I wanted you to see my pictures.”

“They’re beautiful,” I said, looking back at my sister’s art and trying to regain my composure. “You took them all?”

She nodded. “I started taking photographs for a monthly newsletter Mom and Dad sent to their supporters. After a while, I found I had a passion for it. That one,” she said, pointing to the one of Ed on the beach, “was taken at Galapagos. It’s the most wonderful place.

“These are some of my friends in Otavalo,” she continued, pointing to three, dark-skinned girls with their arms around each other, their teeth as white as pearls.

“This is my cat, Silhouette,” she said, pointing to a photo of the black cat sitting in a pile of autumn leaves.

Looking at such beautiful pictures and realizing they weren’t just nicely composed portraits but precious slivers of my sister’s life – a life that had been hidden from me for sixteen years. I began to feel emotionally unhinged. I had to get out of that room.

“They are very nice,” I said and quickly moved to the door, banging the laundry basket against one of the frames and nearly knocking it off the wall.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wincing. I tried to steady it, making it worse.

Lara reached out to help me.

“It’s okay, Kate,” she said calmly. “No harm done.”

I nearly fled from the room.

24

We returned to the hotel a little before two to await Dad’s arrival. While we waited, I dozed. My mom did not but instead sat at the little desk in our room studying the papers from Rosemary’s desk. A few minutes before three, I told Mom I was going for a walk. She must have known I thought she might want a few minutes alone with Dad when he got there.

“Thanks,” she said, but then added. “But don’t be gone long. I told Rosemary we’d be back before five.”

I nodded and left.

When I returned some time later I saw Dad’s truck in the hotel parking lot. I made my way up to our room and stopped at the door to listen. I could hear nothing. I had my card key but knocked anyway.

Mom opened the door. She looked remarkably happy. Dad was at the little table, looking at the same papers Mom had been studying when I left. He rose when I came in and hugged me.

“Everything okay?” I said, looking from one to the other.

My dad eased into a smile that I knew didn’t come easy, but it was sincere.

“Everything’s okay,” he said.

But I suspected he had a different view of these new events than Mom had. I doubted he was thinking, “We’ve got her back!” like I believe Mom was.

Just then Mom went into the bathroom to change into some clothes Dad had brought for her, and I took advantage of the opportunity to be alone with him for a few minutes.

“So, what do you really think about all this?” I asked.

He shrugged and looked at the papers in his hand. “Ed and Rosemary were wonderful to Lara,” he said. “Now Rosemary needs our help. Her daughter needs a place to live for the coming school year.”

Then he looked at me.

“And that’s who she is, Kate. She is her daughter. She is not ours.” Then he looked away.

He was right, of course, but I knew it wasn’t that simple. I was sure he knew it too, but I wanted to hear him say it.

“But, Dad...,” I asked, as gently as I could. “Don’t you think there’s more to this than just providing a place for Lara to live for a while?”

He looked back, and I could see the shadow of old wounds in his eyes.

“Right now there isn’t more to it,” he said, but not unkindly.

Mom emerged from the bathroom. The conversation was over.

But I couldn’t take my eyes off my father. I’m sure Dad would have said his primary motivation for agreeing to take Lara in was his compassion and admiration for Ed and Rosemary. But I knew that what really made him do it was love for my mother. He knew Mom had never stopped thinking of Lara, had never stopped loving her, even though she hadn’t spoken of her in years.

I was touched by Dad’s obvious devotion. He was doing this because he loved Mom and knew it would make her happy, despite his fear of what the future held. I suddenly remembered, as a bitter twelve-year-old, thinking my dad made such selfish choices when it came to Lara. I winced now at those remembered thoughts.

And I could see my dad’s reasoning, of course. I could see what gave him the courage to say “yes” this time. It was different now than when Lara was born. It was very different. The infant girl who had worn a hospital anklet that bore the name “Holland” was long gone. In her place was a teenager whose last name was Prentiss.

Mom drove us back to Two Harbors in her car, me sitting in the back. Dad was quiet. He asked only one question. Who was handling the details of Rosemary’s estate? Neither Mom nor I had even thought of that.

“I am sure we can find that out,” Mom said, trying to sound nonchalant.

When we arrived back at Cleo’s, Lara was in the garage trying to untangle an extension cord from the top rung of a six-foot stepladder. She stopped when she saw us step out of the car and walked out into the sunshine.

I couldn’t help but glance at my dad. He looked kind of sad.

Mom didn’t seem to notice.

“Lara, this is Dan,” she said brightly, motioning toward my father.

Lara waited a moment and then held out her hand. My dad took it. It seemed like an awkward moment for all of us. No one said anything as they shook hands.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” she said.

“We’ve met before,” Dad said softly, almost like he was only reminding himself of it.

“I’m sorry I can’t remember it,” Lara said with a smile and I could tell she really meant it.

“Can I give you a hand with that ladder?” Dad said after a moment’s pause.

“That would be great,” Lara answered. “There’s a light bulb out in the basement. It’s kind of high.”

“You just lead the way,” Dad said, pulling the tangled cord free and hoisting the ladder in his grip. “I’ll change it for you.”

Mom was completely pleased.

We walked through the garage and into the kitchen. Cleo was standing there, hands on her hips.

“Who are you?” she said to my dad.

Mom and I exchanged glances. We had told him about Cleo’s house, but we hadn’t told him about Cleo.

“I’m Dan Holland,” Dad said, eyes a little wide.

“I’m Cleo,” she said. “What are you doing with my ladder?”

“Dan’s helping me change that bulb in the family room, Cleo,” Lara said.

“All right,” she said, as if we were all standing there awaiting her permission to proceed.

“It’s this way,” Lara said, and Dad followed her through the kitchen and into the hallway where the basement stairs were.

“While you’re down there, you may as well right the washer,” she called after them. “It bounced a corner off its pallet this morning. Someone filled it too full,” she added, looking at me.

“How’s Rosemary doing?” Mom asked.

“The hospice nurse just left. That woman woke her from a much-needed nap, but at least she upped her pain medication,” Cleo said, opening the oven door and checking the meatloaf she was making.

She then mumbled a thank-you to my mother for the groceries we delivered earlier and asked if she could pay us for them. Mom said she would rather Cleo didn’t, that it had been our pleasure to get them. Cleo just nodded.

“You can stay for supper,” she said. It wasn’t quite an invitation, more like a summons, but Mom didn’t seem to notice.

“Thank you, Cleo,” she said. “We’d love to.”

Mom and I started to walk out of the kitchen as Cleo suddenly said, “Nice flowers.”

She was looking at the bouquet in the mayonnaise jar. I caught the trace of a smile on her face. Lara told me later that it had been years since anyone had given Cleo flowers.

I hadn’t planned on going in to see Rosemary that afternoon, but she insisted I come, and she asked Lara to come too.

Rosemary looked very pale and weak. I couldn’t believe the difference one day had made. I wondered if she was starting to let go because she now knew Lara was going to be all right.

“Come in,” she said. Her face broke into a smile when she saw my dad. “Dan...”

Dad leaned over and kissed Rosemary on the forehead. She tried to raise an arm to hug him but the pain medication had made her too weak. He held the hand she had tried to raise and squeezed it.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your long braid,” Dad said with a smile, but his voice sounded funny.

Rosemary smiled and closed her eyes.

“I see you don’t have as much hair as before, either,” she said.

Everyone smiled at that, and some of the tension left the room.

“I wanted all of you here because I don’t want to miss the opportunity to tell you all how much you mean to me,” Rosemary said softly. “Sometimes when I close my eyes, I imagine I will open them in heaven.”

Lara drew in a breath next to me but said nothing.

“I want you all to always remember how precious you are to me. Don’t forget.”

Lara reached for Rosemary’s other hand.

“Lara, would you give me a moment with Dan and Claire and Kate?” Rosemary said next. “I promise it won’t be long.”

Lara nodded, wiped her eyes and left.

“Dan...” Rosemary said softly.

“Right here,” my dad said, his voice hoarse.

“I would not have asked such a tremendously big favor of you if I did not believe God wanted me to,” she said. “You and your family have such a capacity to love. It was love that motivated you to do what you had to back when Lara was born. Love for your wife and your children and even love for Lara.

“Claire,” she said turning to my mother, “I know how hard it was for you to give Lara to me. I know it was your love for her that enabled you to do it. And Katie, I know it hurt you terribly when Ed and I took Lara away. It hurt because you loved her so much.”

Rosemary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. I thought for a moment she had dropped off to sleep. My parents and I looked at each other. We all had tears in our eyes.

“Don’t you see?” Rosemary said, slowly opening her eyes. “Everything you have ever done for my daughter, my Lara, you have done out of love.”

Those few moments I spent with Rosemary that sunny Saturday afternoon were the last. I left the next day in my mother’s car to go home to Michael and my children. My parents stayed. Six days later Rosemary died in her sleep.

I don’t know what Lara would have done if my parents hadn’t been there for her. Rosemary’s estate, although there wasn’t much to it, was left in a trust for Lara with Rosemary’s brother in Florida as the executor. He came to the funeral but left as soon as he politely could. Rosemary’s lawyer, a friend of the family, helped take care of the last loose ends regarding my parents becoming Lara’s legal guardians, and he also took care of filing for Lara’s Social Security benefits. Technically, Lara was an orphan.

The funeral was attended by only a handful of people. Lara and Rosemary had been attending a small church in the country, one that Ed’s mother had belonged to when Rosemary and Ed and Lara moved back to Minnesota after Ed’s first heart attack. When Ed’s mother died, they kept attending there. The congregation numbered less than twenty families. A few church friends came to Rosemary’s service, but including my family and Spencer and Natalie, there were less than thirty in attendance. Rosemary deserved a motorcade and a national day of mourning.

Lara sat with her uncle in the front row of the little church, and my parents and I and my family sat right behind them.

Rosemary was buried alongside Ed in a shady spot in the church cemetery. After the interment, we went back inside the church for a light meal in the basement. Lara seemed to be holding up well. My little Olivia never left her side, and I didn’t know if that annoyed her or comforted her. My dad and the uncle spent considerable time in a corner going over legal matters. It was so obvious Rosemary’s brother was in a hurry to get back to Florida and his own life. I shot him several reproving looks, but I don’t think he ever caught on that I thought him to be one of the more callous people I ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Mom offered to stay with Lara and Cleo the night of the funeral, but Lara seemed to want some time to herself. We agreed to come back for her the next morning. I had not forgotten my promise to Rosemary to drive her down to Blue Prairie.

We stayed that night in the same hotel by the lake, and the next morning, Michael, Bennett, Wes, and Nicole left ahead of the rest of us. I tried to convince Olivia to go with them, but she wouldn’t do it. She was utterly taken with Lara and wanted to ride with her.

All of Lara’s boxes fit in the back of Dad’s truck, as did her bicycle and darkroom equipment. We filled the back of my mom’s car with Lara’s clothes and photographs.

Finally, in Lara’s little blue Taurus, we placed Olivia, Lara’s cat, Silhouette, and a few miscellaneous items.

Then it was time to go.

“Are there any friends you need to say goodbye to?” Mom asked Lara as she closed the trunk to her car.

“I did that on Sunday,” Lara said softly, as if it was slightly painful to say.

Mom turned to Cleo who was standing in the driveway. Hands on her hips, of course.

“Cleo, is there anything Dan and I can do for you before we head out?”

“I’ve gotten along fine for sixty-six years and I don’t need any help now,” Cleo replied, chin high.

Lara turned to her and threw her arms around her.

“Thank you, Cleo, for everything you have done,” she said. “I will never forget how you cared for us.”

Cleo, who had not shed a tear up to that point—at least not that I had seen—began to cry.

“You come back and visit me anytime,” Cleo finally managed to say.

Lara kissed her cheek and stepped away, getting into the passenger side of her own car. Cleo dried her eyes and turned away for a moment to blow her nose into a handkerchief. Then she turned back toward the three vehicles and placed her hands squarely on her hips. We waved goodbye, and she nodded her head once in response.

The five-hour drive home was long but uneventful. Olivia fell asleep after the first hour, and Lara followed suit after the second. We stopped in Apple Valley at Spencer and Natalie’s to stretch our legs before tackling the last hundred miles and so Lara could see Noah.