Marta's Legacy Collection (65 page)

Dear Rosie,

I see more clearly now how things I thought I did for good caused harm. Remember when I moved in with Hildemara when she was ill with consumption? I wanted to help, but ended up taking over. I became so attached to Carolyn, I didn’t see the damage I did to my daughter.

Now I find myself watching Carolyn suffer as Hildemara must have. The girl is working so hard to put her life back together and earn love, all because Trip laid out a plan for her to “get back on her feet” and “fly right.” They want to help, just as I did. But these conditions have left no time for Carolyn to be with her child, no time to be part of the family. I hardly ever see Carolyn anymore. We barely have time to exchange a greeting, let alone sit under the arbor and have a cup of tea. How can I encourage her? I have no answers.

I have never seen Hildemara so happy (other than her complaints that Carolyn no longer attends church). I understand her happiness because I felt the same when I took care of Carolyn. I felt the loss of my daughter’s affections far less when I could freely pour my love out on my granddaughter. And there is the dilemma! Did I have the right to usurp Hildemara in Carolyn’s affections as I now see her doing with May Flower Dawn? Hildemara is in her glory. She does all the things a mother longs to do for her child. Of course, Carolyn does not complain about anything. She has always been reticent about sharing her feelings. Yesterday she surprised me and said her mother never had time for her, but all the time in the world for May Flower Dawn. She didn’t say it with bitterness, but resignation.

I’ve been pondering Carolyn’s words ever since. I wonder if Hildemara feels the same about me. . . .

19

1976

Time moved too quickly. Carolyn’s mother had enrolled Dawn in nursery school and stayed as a volunteer. Carolyn pushed harder than ever as she went into her senior year of college. Myrna urged Carolyn to study for a real estate license. “I have more clients than I can handle, and you’ve already learned how to write proposals and put the paperwork together.” Myrna had seen to that. “You’d make a lot more money than you do as my receptionist.”

Adding another goal chewed into what little time Carolyn had left. She wished she could quit college, but Dad wouldn’t hear of it. “Real estate markets go up and down. A college degree lasts forever.” The last few months proved to be the most taxing, and then she got the word she had made it. She told Dad, knowing he would care more than Mom. Only one hitch.

“What do you mean you’re not going through the graduation ceremony?”

Carolyn shrugged it off. “It’s not important. I’ll get my diploma in the mail.”

“Don’t you think you owe it to us to walk across that stage?”

She wanted to remind him she had already given him and Mom everything he demanded—and the one thing that mattered most to her, May Flower Dawn. “The test for my real estate license is on the same day, Dad. I have more chance of making a living at real estate than as an officer manager.” She’d already checked. It was still a man’s world. All her business degree would get her was a menial job in a big corporation and low starting pay. She didn’t have any more time to waste.

“Doesn’t it matter to you, Carolyn?” Her father looked troubled. “You’ve worked so hard. You should be proud. I’d think you’d want to wear that cap and gown and have the whole world see you get your diploma.”

The whole world? Who was he kidding? Carolyn felt a sudden rush of anger. “It mattered more to you than it ever mattered to me.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“And where would I’ve been if I had? I’d have done
anything
to stay off the streets. I’ve done everything you and Mom asked of me, and you’re still not satisfied.”

Dad winced as though she’d slapped him across the face. She had to clench her teeth before she lied and retracted every word.

Real estate license in hand, Carolyn gave Myrna Wegeman notice. “You’re quitting?” Myrna couldn’t believe it. “After all I’ve done for you?”

Carolyn thanked her. “You’ve taught me more about business than all my classes put together. You’re the one who believed in me and made me feel I could do so much more.” She wanted to work in the valley, close to May Flower Dawn. She wanted time with her daughter.

Myrna wasn’t mollified. “You owe me for the opportunities I’ve given you!”

Carolyn had had enough. She didn’t want to hear how much she owed Myrna—or anyone else. She’d been working on her debts for five years! “I’m sorry you feel that way. I hoped we could part as friends.” Forget the two weeks’ notice. She headed for the door.

Myrna came out from behind her desk and called out to her to wait a minute. “Can’t we talk about this?” Carolyn didn’t even look back as she went out the door and closed it firmly behind her.

She’d already lined up a job in a real estate office in Paxtown. Real estate boomed over the East Bay hills, too, and Ross Harper had been willing to hire her, despite having been warned by others of her less-than-pristine reputation. He’d heard of Myrna Wegeman. “If you survived three years with that tiger, working with me is going to be a piece of cake.”

She no longer had to get up at the crack of dawn to commute to the Bay Area. She no longer had night classes. She didn’t have to spend every spare minute studying and writing papers. She could breathe a little, as long as she scoured the valley in search of people willing to list property with a young, untried real estate agent. And then she had to promote those properties to other agents and show the houses.

America’s bicentennial came, and Carolyn managed enough time off to attend the fireworks and celebration at the fairgrounds. Five-year-old May Flower Dawn was frightened by the explosions and bright, showering lights. When Carolyn tried to snuggle her close, she cried harder. Straining away, Dawn called out for “Granny” and wouldn’t be calmed until sitting on Mom’s lap.

A week later, Carolyn sold her first listing and used every bit of her commission to pay off the last of the debt she owed her father and mother. She felt a moment of ecstasy when she handed Dad the check.

“Against all odds.” His eyes glistened with tears. “You did it, Carolyn.” He smiled broadly. “I’m proud of you.”

She had never expected those words to come out of his mouth, not in a million years. Embarrassed, she stammered. “I have some buyers interested in another listing. If all goes well, I’ll have enough to move out on my own.” She glanced toward the living room, where May Flower Dawn played with Barbie dolls while Mom read a story.

Mom left the book on the table and came through the foyer. “What are you two talking about?”

Dad showed her the check. “She’s debt-free.”

Mom held the check in both hands and stared at it. No congratulations were forthcoming. Carolyn stood a little straighter. “I was telling Dad if I make another sale, I’ll be moving out with May Flower Dawn.”

“Moving out?” Mom raised her head, her face paling.

“She won’t be going far.” Dad seemed oblivious. “She works for Ross. Remember? It’s not like she’d be moving to the San Fernando Valley.”

Dad didn’t seem to notice Mom’s pained glance back at the child playing on the living room rug. Carolyn did, and she understood only too well. Her mother wasn’t worried about losing her. She just didn’t want to lose May Flower Dawn.

When Carolyn came home the next afternoon after showing houses all morning to prospective buyers, her mother and father said they wanted to talk with her. Mom’s red-rimmed eyes warned her something was wrong. “Where’s May Flower Dawn?”

“She’s fine.” Mom wiped her cheek. “She’s at Sandy’s house.”

“Sandy?”

“Her best friend from nursery school. They live on First Street.”

“Nice family,” Dad added. “They go to our church.”

Carolyn knew less than nothing about May Flower Dawn’s classmates. That would soon change. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

He smiled. “Actually, we wanted to give you something.” He slid a bankbook across the table. When she didn’t touch it, he nodded at it. “Go ahead. Take a look. It’s yours.”

She took it and wondered what catch her parents had attached to this. She put it back on the table and pushed it away. “I don’t need a loan. I just wrote an offer on a house today. If it goes through, I’ll receive a good commission. I’ve had my eye on an American bungalow out on Vineyard Avenue—”

Mom cut her off. “It’s not a loan, Carolyn. It’s yours.”

“Every penny of it.” Dad pushed the bankbook back to her. “It’s every dollar of the rent money you’ve given us since you came home.”

She stared at them. She didn’t know whether to believe they could extend such kindness or pull defensive armor around herself. “I don’t understand.”

Dad leaned forward. “We knew you’d need a nest egg, Carolyn, something to give you a good start when you finished school. So we’ve been setting aside the rent money from the beginning.”

Carolyn looked at her mother and saw a war of emotions. Did she understand this gift would become the means to take May Flower Dawn away from her? Mom’s sad smile hinted she did; then her words confirmed it. “You should have enough to put a down payment on that bungalow you want.”

“If I can talk them into selling, I will.” Carolyn took the bankbook with trembling fingers. “Thank you.”

Carolyn felt no qualms about embracing her father or soaking his shirt with tears. Hugging her mother proved more difficult. As soon as Carolyn put her arms around her, Mom stiffened and turned her face. Hurt, Carolyn took the hint and withdrew. Her mother’s eyes filled with pain. She took Carolyn’s hand, patting it. “You’ll do fine.”

Carolyn wasted no time. She went to the Zeiglers, who owned the house she liked, and asked if they might be interested in selling. She expected resistance, but they surprised her and agreed. They had been thinking about selling for over a year. “Our daughter would like us to move back to Ohio and live with her family. She has a big house on a lake, with a granny unit.”

Everything moved quickly. Mrs. Zeigler called Carolyn and asked if she would be interested in buying some of their furniture. “We won’t have room for most of our things.” The only thing they wanted to take east was their bedroom set, a gift to each other on their fortieth wedding anniversary. Carolyn bought their sofa, wing chairs, bookshelves, a dining room set, a large mahogany coffee table, two standing tulip lamps, and the brass fire screen and utensils. She had made another sale and went out to find something special for May Flower Dawn. She purchased a French provincial twin canopy bed, white dresser, desk, and two matching side tables.

Carolyn used every spare moment to get the house ready for May Flower Dawn. She washed walls and painted; put up new drapes and sheers; had the wood floors in the living room sanded, restained, and sealed; and bought an imitation Persian rug. She added wall-to-wall carpeting in the bedrooms. Mom had told her May Flower Dawn’s favorite colors. She painted the walls of her daughter’s bedroom pink with white trim, bought pink sheets and blankets and a purple comforter set with pillow shams. She hung white lace curtains and bought new Barbie and Ken dolls with half a dozen changes of clothes.

Carolyn worked far into the night every night, wanting everything to be perfect before her daughter moved in. By the end of her first month of home ownership, she was ready. “Everything’s been done, Mom. I want to make things as easy as possible for both of you. Do you want to bring May Flower Dawn, or shall I come and get her?”

“Dad and I will bring her to you. We’d like to see what you’ve done to the place.”

When her parents arrived, Carolyn watched her daughter’s face, hoping to see some hint of pleasure. May Flower Dawn looked scared. She clutched her grandmother’s hand and avoided Carolyn’s eyes. Mom had a forced smile plastered to her face. She talked in an overbright voice, pointing out what a nice house Dawn would be living in. “What a lovely bedroom. Your mother painted it your favorite colors, honey.”

“I don’t want to live here, Granny.” May Flower Dawn spoke in a low voice.

“This is your home now, Dawn.”

“I want to stay with you and Papa.”

Every word stabbed Carolyn’s heart. Mom was clearly grief torn. Dad looked grim and somewhat irritated. “We’d better go, Hildie. Now.”

“Just give me a minute with her.”

Carolyn wanted to scream.
You’ve had her for five years, and I’ve given you weeks to prepare her!
Pushing the pain and anger down, she quietly left them alone and went outside with Dad. He gazed back toward the house. “Don’t expect Dawn to adjust overnight, Carolyn.”

She tried to be fair. “I suppose it’s going to be difficult for Mom, too.”

“You have no idea.”

Mom came outside alone, eyes streaming tears. “If you need us, just call.” She slipped quickly into the car and covered her face, shoulders shaking. Carolyn watched them drive away before she went back into the house. She found May Flower Dawn curled up and crying on her new bed.