When the Music Ends (The Winter Rose Chronicles) (24 page)

            That
reminded her of  a question she’d been meaning to ask.
"That’s another thing I don’t understand. Everyone keeps
talking about how terrible that year was for Erin, but it was Sheridan who was
raped, who became pregnant, and who had to give up her baby. She was the one
who had the terrible year."

            "She
did, but there was a lot going on behind the scenes that we didn’t
know." Roger paused, considering. "If I share this with you, you
must keep it in complete confidence. Don’t mention to Erin that
I’ve told you. You’ll upset her again."

            "I
promise." Goodness knew she wasn’t going to make things worse.

            "Do
you remember when Erin made our Thanksgiving dinner?"

            "Yes…"
She gave her husband a questioning look.

            "She
was pregnant at the time."

            Ellen
gasped.

            "Sean
told me, and this was just the other day mind you, he probably made Erin pregnant the night that Sheridan was assaulted, just before you called him from the
hospital."

            This
was a stunning revelation, and long minutes passed while Ellen struggled to
process it. "But what happened then?" A terrible suspicion dawned
on her.  "Wait, she was encouraging Sheridan to have an abortion.
She didn’t do that did she?" If that little…

            "Calm
down Ellen." Roger interrupted her runaway thoughts again. "No, of
course not. Sean told me that once they got over the shock, they were both
happy. It meant they would stay together, get married. He hated that she
wouldn’t be able to go away to school, but he wanted to keep Erin with him, and this made it possible."

            "So
what happened then? Where is this baby?"

            "Erin miscarried the next day. Sean was there, so was Sheridan. It was when we were out
shopping. She lost her baby right here in the upstairs bathroom. Sean said it
was literally the most terrible day of his life. Apparently the baby looked
perfectly fine and normal. They had to take it to the hospital to have it
examined. They were devastated."

            "Oh
my God. How awful." Now Ellen really felt guilty. She could picture the
scene in her mind. That poor girl. And here she was, making it worse.

            "Do
you remember what it’s like, Ellen, to lose a baby?"

            "Do
you think I can ever forget? I remember exactly what it’s like."
Her voice wavered a little, "Poor Erin. That must have been
heartbreaking." And Erin had shouldered that pain nearly alone. No mother
to help her. Only Sean, grieving beside her, and Sheridan, already stressed
beyond her ability to cope. It was a miracle she’d come through it as
well as she had. And no one had ever said a word. Ellen’s defensive
reaction began to crumble.

            "It
was. But she concealed it. She didn’t want anyone to know that she was
suffering as badly as Sheridan. She needed to be there for her friend. And
let’s not forget, my love, why we married exactly when we did."

            "I
know. It’s a good thing Sean has never added up the numbers." Even
all these years later, the embarrassment of being the good little Catholic girl
who got pregnant out of wedlock brought a hint of color to her cheeks. She had
not one stone to throw at Erin.

            "Would
it be so bad if he knew?"

            "I
don’t know. I would be embarrassed if he found out."

            "What,
that a passionate nature runs in the family? Why do you think the Murphys are
so loyal? It’s because we love so deeply." He kissed her temple,
making her smile. Her swirling thoughts gelled into a desire for action. It was
time to stop fussing about what was already done and get busy being a family
again.

            "You’re
right. Listen, Roger, I have an idea about how to make this right with Erin."

            "Tell
me."

Erin and Sean spent much of Sunday doing very little. After mass
they returned to the apartment and just spent time together, talking, catching
up, and making love.

By Monday, Erin was starting to feel better. The ache of her
lacerated heart was fading in the wake of Sean’s tender affection. This
was a good thing, because he had to work. His vacation would begin Thursday. Christmas
wasn’t until Sunday, and the company was restoring a couple of houses in
town. While working outside in the winter wasn’t feasible, there was no
reason they couldn’t lay flooring, reconfigure walls, replace outdated
wiring, and so on. Business for Murphy Construction and Renovation was very
good.

As Sean kissed his wife goodbye, he was pleased to note that the
strain she had been showing was almost gone.

"I love you Erin. I’ll see you tonight."

"I love you too. Have a good day."

Left to her own devices, Erin looked around the apartment for
something to do. While she was not a huge fan of cleaning, it would pass the
time, so she washed dishes, vacuumed, and dusted. It only took about two hours.
Just as she was contemplating what to do next, and whether the neighbors would
object to the sounds of the oboe filtering though the walls and floor, the
telephone rang.

"Hello?"

"Oh hello Erin. I’m glad I found you." It was
Ellen.

"What can I do for you?" Erin was still a little wary.

"I wanted to invite you over today. I’m making Christmas
ornaments, and I was wondering if you would be interested in joining me."

"Sure. I’ve never made ornaments before. When should I
come?"

"Right away."

So Erin took the invitation. She wasn’t sure exactly what it
all meant, but she wasn’t about to refuse.

            She
drove across town to the Murphy home and rang the doorbell.

            This
time when Ellen met her her, it was with a demeanor so altered it confused her
even more. Her mother-in-law greeted her with a warm hug and pressed a cup of
cocoa into her hands. Erin sipped it, grateful for the warmth on such a cold
day, and found it rich with vanilla and cream. Delicious.

            Ellen
escorted her into the kitchen, where the table had been spread with newspaper.
On one side was a cutting board with some kind of very strange brown dough
sitting in a lump. Across the table was a box of colorful glass balls, the ones
that could be purchased very cheaply at any discount store. Beside them was a
set of poster paints and some brushes.

            Erin looked at the scene but didn’t know what to make of it.

            "What
should I do?"

            "Why
don’t you start by rolling out the cinnamon dough? Then you can cut it
with the cookie cutters and we bake it for a long time until it’s hard.
It makes lovely smelling ornaments, but they really only last one year."

            "Oh,
sure. I can do that." Erin grabbed the rolling pin. "How thick?"

            "About
a quarter inch."

She got to work and soon had a pan full of stars, bells, and little
reindeer ready to be baked. Ellen in the meanwhile was painting designs on the
balls.

            Erin
peeked at what she was doing, and gasped. Ellen had painstakingly crafted a
traditional Madonna, in a blue headdress, sitting in a stable with a cow on one
side and a donkey on the other, gazing adoringly at a stone manger filled with
hay, where a baby lay wrapped in a blanket.

            "Did
you really paint that? It’s amazing. I had no idea you were such an
artist."

            "I’m
not. I went to art school for a while, but I dropped out."

            "Why?"

            "Well,"
Ellen blushed a little, "I had been seeing Roger for a while, and
I… became pregnant."

            Erin raised her eyebrows.

            "Really?"

            "Yes.
With Sean. I was nineteen at the time."

            Erin looked at her mother-in-law consideringly for a moment.

            "Why
are you telling me this?"

            "I’m
trying to make things better between us. I said some unkind things and I regret
them. I’m not happy that you two felt compelled to keep your relationship
a secret, but I’m not so perfect either. I want you to know that I
forgive you. Also, I have never for a moment thought that you were selfish. You
need to know that. I was thankful and grateful for all your help."

            "Thank
you. You know, I was pregnant once too."

            "You
were?"

            "Yes.
At the same time as Danny. I had a miscarriage."

            "I’m
so sorry. I had a miscarriage between Jason and Sheridan. It hurts, doesn’t
it? But you know what, having a baby helps a lot."

            "That’s
good to know."

            "Those
look good, dear. Why don’t you pop them in the oven? It’s already
on."

            Erin carried the try away and considered what she had been told. She wasn’t sure why
Ellen was being so nice, but she appreciated it. Not to mention that sharing
those difficult memories created a bond of empathy between the women. Now each
one knew the other’s secret pain. It made a difference.

            While
the cinnamon ornaments perfumed the kitchen, Erin sat down next to Ellen and
watched her paint.

            "Would
you like to try one dear?"

            "I
don’t know how. What if I mess it up?"

            "It’s
not a problem if you do. The paint washes off until it’s dried, and even
if it’s hopeless, so what? Both the paint and the balls are very cheap.
If you have to throw it away it’s no great loss. Give it a try."

            Erin carefully selected a ball in a warm gold tone and picked up a brush. What to paint?
Concentrating intensely Erin began to work on the little decoration. She messed
up. Rolling her eyes she washed off the paint and tried again, and messed up
again. This was hard.

            "Don’t
give up dear." Ellen said, sensing Erin’s frustration, "new
things are always difficult." She began to sing softly. Erin listened to
the quiet melody. Away in a Manger. The soothing lullaby, in her
mother-in-law’s delicate voice, released Erin’s nervous tension.

            She
nodded and tried again, and gradually began to sing along. She didn’t
have the best voice, but this was a Christmas carol, so who cared. The two
women sang softly while they painted. This time Erin made progress. By being
very careful she managed to paint the ball without messing it up again. It
wasn’t anything like what Ellen was doing, but for a first attempt, it
was actually rather nice. She had painted a simplified but recognizable version
of the Murphy family house, with its snowy yard on each side, and fireplace
smoke pouring from the chimney. All around it she had dotted white to represent
snowflakes. Underneath it she had painstakingly traced the word ‘home’.
She showed it to her mother-in-law.

            "Oh,
that’s very good dear. When it dries, I’ll add it to the ornaments
we’ll put on the tree. Our family has a tradition of decorating together,
as you might recall, which I would like to do Wednesday, when Sheridan gets
home. Will you and Sean be able to come?"

            "I
think so, but I’ll have to check with him."

            "Oh
good. By the way, I have something to ask of you. Everyone in this family has
an ornament made specifically for them. Would you be willing to let me make one
for you?"

            "Why
would I not be willing?"

            "Well
normally I put a strand of hair inside it. It’s a transparent ball you
see. For each of my children I took a curl from their first haircut and put it
inside along with their name, their birth date, and some kind of decoration. In
order to make one for you, I would need a piece of your hair."

            "Oh,
that’s fine." Erin tried to sound nonchalant, but having an
ornament of her own to hang on the Murphy family Christmas tree was more of a
statement about her place in the family than she had received so far. Her eyes
swam a little.

            Immediately,
Ellen left the room and returned with a manicure kit. Taking out a pair of tiny
scissors, she lifted Erin’s hair and cut off a tiny section from
underneath.

            She
threaded it into a hollow glass ball and capped it with a gold ornament hanger.
Then she returned to painting as though nothing had happened.

            "Erin," she said after a moment, "how is my daughter? Sean says she’s
better. Is she?"

            "Yes.
Almost back to normal."

            "Oh,
that’s good. Have you met Dr. Burke?"

            "Yes.
She told you about him, did she?"
            "Yes.
She mentions him often. I’m not really clear on what kind of relationship
they have though. Is this just a professor she has a crush on, or are they
involved?"