Chapter Five
August, 1981. Stoneybrook, Connecticut.
"You'd think that it would get easier the third time around," Elizabeth Marks-Thomas said breathlessly to Hannah Marks, who was nearby. Hannah just grinned ruefully and said, "I wouldn't know. I only had two children." She squeezed Elizabeth's hand a little tighter. "Now, breathe, honey. And count your blessings."
"Count my blessings?" Elizabeth exclaimed as another searing pain flashed through her body. "Name one."
"You get to be in this nice modern hospital giving birth. My mother depended on a midwife in her own bedroom when she had me." Hannah smiled.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and then squeezed them shut against the hard pain that was wracking her entire body. Two of the nurses in the room were encouraging, "Push, push." Elizabeth felt like telling them to shut up, but even in childbirth, she wasn't one to yell. So she just gritted her teeth and pushed.
It was a while later, but suddenly the pain faded and a new sound joined the chorus of "Push! Breathe!" It was the wailing of a newborn baby. Elizabeth's doctor, Dr. James, exclaimed, "It's a girl!" As they worked to prepare the baby, Elizabeth collapsed back onto her pillows in complete exhaustion. As Hannah put a cold washcloth to Elizabeth's head, she said, "There, now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Elizabeth just groaned. But only a few seconds later, the baby stopped crying as a nurse wrapped her in a pink blanket, carrying her over to Elizabeth. "It's a girl," she repeated, a quiet smile of happiness on her face. Elizabeth struggled to sit up as the nurse held out the pink bundle. "She's beautiful," Elizabeth said in amazement as she took the tiny baby in her arms. The little girl was wide awake, though she wasn't crying anymore. She had a small patch of fine dark hair on her head and her eyes were the same big brown eyes that Elizabeth possessed. Despite herself, Elizabeth immediately burst into tears. "She's beautiful," she repeated. All she could do was marvel at the perfect little girl that she had created. Even though Elizabeth had been a mother for four years---she already had two sons---this was different. This was a daughter, the baby daughter Elizabeth had always wanted. Tears of happiness flowed freely from her eyes.
Hannah smiled and said she was going to tell Patrick the news. Patrick had been in the waiting room with their children Sam and Charlie since Elizabeth went into labor that morning. Elizabeth briefly hoped that the boys were okay. It was now nightfall and it was a long day to wait around a hospital. But then the door flew open and Patrick rushed in, and the sight of her husband made Elizabeth's anxieties cease. "Liz!" Patrick said, the smile on his face bright enough to reach his eyes. He hurried over to the bed and leaned over, dropping a kiss onto her forehead. "We're parents!" he said with a grin.
"Third time's a charm," Elizabeth whispered in response. "How are the boys doing?"
"Oh, fine," Patrick said. "Charlie's been happy with a coloring book for the last few hours and Sam's sleeping. Your mother is with them now," he added. Then he focused his attention on the child in Elizabeth's arms, who was now looking curiously at the new visitor. "Hi there," Patrick said softly.
Elizabeth smiled. "Patrick, this is our new daughter," she said proudly. "I'd introduce you properly, but I'm afraid she doesn't have a name yet." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "What do you think?"
"Hmm." Patrick pulled up a chair close to the bed and sat down, reaching out one hand to smooth the girl's dark hair back. "How about Amanda? That's a pretty name. Of course," he continued with a grin, "it should be up to you. You did the hard part."
"That's true," Elizabeth said with a laugh. Patrick glanced down at the baby again before returning his gaze to Elizabeth's tired but joyful face. "I love you," he said quietly. Elizabeth leaned over and kissed him deeply for a moment. When they broke apart, Elizabeth murmured, "Kristin."
"No, Patrick," he shot back with a teasing grin.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I meant the baby. Let's name her Kristin. Kristin Amanda Thomas."
"Oh, team effort. I like it." Patrick smiled again as he touched Kristin's soft cheek. "Nice to meet you, Kristin Amanda. Welcome to the Thomas family."
* * * *
"You know, things couldn't have turned out more perfectly for us," Mika Kishi said a few weeks later. It was a warm, late-summer day in early September and the two women were in Elizabeth's backyard. Elizabeth, who was trying her hand at grilling burgers, nodded. "I know," she agreed. Pausing from the grill for a moment, she gazed out at the scene that was playing on the warm green grass that marked her property. It was a quiet day in suburban Stoneybrook, the sleepy little town where Elizabeth and Patrick had settled four years before. Elizabeth had heard about the house from Mika, who had been living in Stoneybrook ever since she married John Kishi in 1975. When the house across the street from Mika went up for sale, Mika had contacted Elizabeth, since the Thomases were looking to move away from their home in New York City. Patrick had agreed to it and Elizabeth had lived across the street from Mika ever since.
Now, it was one of those perfect days that made Elizabeth peaceful and happy. She was hosting a Labor Day picnic in her backyard and plenty of people from the neighborhood had come over. Mika's husband John was engaged in a conversation with Mika's younger sister Peaches and Peaches' husband Russ, along with the Thomas' next-door neighbor, Richard Spier. Not far away, Richard's wife Alma was pushing Mika's three-year-old daughter Janine on one of the wooden swings on the swing set. Some of the neighborhood kids had made their way into the yard and were playing catch along with Charlie and Patrick. For a four year old, Charlie was surprisingly good at catching the small wiffle ball and tossing it around. Elizabeth smiled as she watched Charlie toss the ball back to Patrick. Patrick fumbled and dropped the ball, letting roll on the grass a few feet away. "Wow, Charlie," Patrick said. "You're getting too strong for me." As he trotted over to pick up the ball, he caught Elizabeth's gaze and smiled at her a little sheepishly. Elizabeth smiled back before shifting her gaze to the picnic table, where Hannah sat talking with Mimi. Not far from the two women was a small playpen where Kristin was entertaining herself by bouncing a block up and down, occasionally showing her affection for the block by trying to bite it with her nonexistent teeth. Kristin was sharing the playpen with Claudia Kishi and Mary Anne Spier, Mika's and Alma's daughters who were within months of being Kristy's age.
"It's times like this that life feels perfect," Elizabeth commented as she went back to grilling. "Makes you forget your problems."
"Problems?" Mika repeated, pouring ice tea into paper cups. "Is anything wrong, Liz?"
Elizabeth sighed. "No. Nothing but the usual."
"The usual being…?" Mika left the sentence hanging in a question.
"It's just . . ." Elizabeth shrugged. "Patrick and I have been having some problems, that's all."
"What kind of problems?" asked Mika, her dark eyes shining with concern.
Elizabeth concentrated on flipping a burger. "Marital problems I'm sure everyone has," she said, more to assure herself than Mika. "Money, the future. Whatever."
"Well, if you need to talk about anything . . ." Mika offered.
Elizabeth smiled. "Thanks." The truth was, she and Patrick had been having problems for the past few months, especially after Kristin's birth. One of the things that had initially attracted Elizabeth to Patrick had been his ambition. But now Patrick's ambition was growing to restlessness. Even though he had a good job with an extension of Walker Stuart that was located in Stamford, Connecticut, Patrick often talked of pursuing a career in sports journalism. His favorite sport was baseball and a lot of the time, Patrick would head off to sports bars in Stamford after work to catch the games on TV before he came home. Patrick's absence was bothering Elizabeth, especially when she had to handle dinner and putting the kids to bed by herself. Whenever Elizabeth confronted Patrick, though, he got angry and Elizabeth was prone to simply letting the matter go. After all, she convinced herself, Patrick was under a lot of pressure to be the provider of the family. Elizabeth had stopped working in order to be a full-time mother, and the occasional freelance articles she wrote for the newspaper were too few and far between to contribute to providing for the family. So the role fell on Patrick, and Elizabeth knew it was getting to him, especially with a new baby. More often than not, Elizabeth ended up feeling more guilty than angry, so she let Patrick's absences pass. After all, she thought as she watched him toss the ball to Charlie again, he's here when it counts. And he's a good father.
"Hey, chef," a voice said, breaking Elizabeth from her thoughts. Elizabeth turned to see Alma Spier heading over with a smile on her face. Elizabeth grinned. "Hey yourself," she replied. "How are you doing, Alma?"
"Oh, fine. It's such a beautiful day, isn't it?" Alma smiled.
"It sure is," Elizabeth agreed. "Perfect for a picnic." Just then, the grill sizzled, and Elizabeth glanced down at the burgers. They were an interesting shade of brown. Elizabeth poked at one of them and it sizzled again. "Hey, do these look done to you?" she asked Alma uncertainly.
Alma shrugged. "I can't cook to save my life," she replied. "But if I had to guess, I'd say they're ready."
"Well, I've never done burgers before—Patrick always does it---but I'm sure these babies are ready to be eaten." Elizabeth promptly turned off the grill and called, "Hey, burgers are up!"
There was a mad race for the grill and for the next few minutes, everyone was busy loading up on burgers, potato chips, and coleslaw. Elizabeth took the opportunity to head inside and get a bottle for Kristin. As she rinsed out a fresh bottle and began filling it with cold milk, Alma slipped in after her. "Do you have an extra bottle?" she asked. "Mary Anne's starting to get fussy."
"Of course," Elizabeth replied, heading over to the cabinet to get a second bottle. "Mary Anne is such a little darling," she said to make conversation.
"Yes," Alma agreed. "I never really thought I would have children, but I'm so happy to have a daughter." Alma looked out the back window towards the playpen. Mary Anne was now playing with one of Kristy's blocks. Suddenly, a look of pain and sadness crossed Alma's face. It lasted only a second, but it was prominent enough for Elizabeth to notice.
"Are you all right, Alma?" Elizabeth asked as she handed Alma the second milk bottle.
Alma's smile seemed a little forced. "Oh, I'm fine," she said hurriedly. "Thank you again for the bottle, Elizabeth. I better go give it to Mary Anne."
With that, she had headed back into the backyard. Elizabeth was a little puzzled. Alma was a warm and lovely person who had been very welcoming when Elizabeth and Patrick first moved to the neighborhood. Elizabeth remembered Alma bringing over an applesauce cake and offering to help unpack. Yet even after four years of living next-door, Elizabeth never really got to know Alma that well. She supposed it was because she was so busy with her children. Still, Elizabeth was concerned about what was bothering Alma. She decided that she would try and get to know Alma better. Maybe Alma was just lonely.
* * *
"Patrick," Elizabeth said a few nights later. "Do you think we should enroll Charlie in pre-school?"
"Hmm?" Patrick was concentrating on the sports section of the newspaper. It was late, nearly bedtime, and Elizabeth and Patrick were in their bedroom. Elizabeth was looking over a pamphlet she'd gotten in the mail that day, advertising one of Stoneybrook's pre-schools.
"Pre-school," Elizabeth repeated. "For Charlie."
"Isn't it a little late?" Patrick asked.
"No, the deadline is still two days away. If we sign Charlie up now, he'll have plenty of time before school starts next Monday."
"How much does it cost?" Patrick turned another page in the paper.
"Free," Elizabeth said. "I think it would be good for Charlie to go and be around other kids. Besides, it's important that the kids get a feel for the school experience at an early age. You know, my younger sister Judy didn't start first grade until she was six and being away from home for so long every day practically traumatized her." Elizabeth laughed a little. "It took her at least a year before she even got used to the idea. I think it would be much more healthy to start our kids off with pre-school, don't you think?"
Patrick didn't respond.
Elizabeth waited a few seconds, but Patrick was engrossed in reading a full-spread article. Elizabeth peeked at the headline: "Braves' Pitcher Injured, Could Be Out Rest of Season."
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Hey, Patrick," she said. "I heard that the Braves' have a second string pitcher who is almost as good as the one that was injured."
Patrick finally looked at her. "Really?"
"Well, now that I've got your attention," she said, adding an extra sarcastic edge to her voice. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Sure, Liz," Patrick said. "Charlie, pre-school. How much did you say it cost?"
Elizabeth could feel her annoyance rising, but she pushed it back down. "It's free," she repeated patiently. "I think it would be good for him."
"Well, sure it would," Patrick agreed. "I don't see why not, especially if it's free. Go ahead."
With that, he turned back to the article. Elizabeth put the pamphlet on her nightstand, resolving to call and enroll Charlie first thing in the morning. Just then, from one of the bedrooms down the hall, Kristin began crying. Elizabeth sighed and glanced at Patrick, hoping he'd give her a break and go check on the baby. But Patrick appeared oblivious to the sound. Kristin kept crying, and Elizabeth let out her breath. "I'll go check on her," she said pointedly. Patrick nodded absently and Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she got up out of bed and headed down to Kristin's room.
"Hey, Miss K," she said in a singsong voice as she pushed open the door to the nursery. In her crib, Kristin was sitting up. Her cries immediately stopped as Elizabeth entered the room. Elizabeth kept going to the crib and she leaned now, scooping Kristin into her arms. "What's the matter, sweetie?" she asked. "Can't sleep?"
Kristin just gurgled.
"Well, I know just the thing that will cheer us both up," Elizabeth said. "Come on." Still holding Kristin, Elizabeth headed downstairs to the kitchen where she fixed a baby bottle and a hot cup of cocoa. "Life lesson 101," Elizabeth said conversationally. "Good, strong drinks always make everything okay." She took the drinks into the living room and sat down in the rocking chair. After she took a sip of her cocoa, she set it on the side table and then began rocking gently in the chair as she fed Kristy the baby bottle. "You know, I think that pre-school is a great idea," she said. "Your dad does too, whether he wants to be enthusiastic or not. I mean, it has to be more important than sports or journalism or whatever it is he's so fixed on these days." Elizabeth sighed. "In case he's forgotten, I love journalism too but family is more important than that. I just wish he'd realize it more often."
Kristin made a small sound. Glancing down, Elizabeth saw that she was pushing the bottle away. "Too much milk?" Elizabeth asked. "Well, okay. What do you say I put you back to bed so you can get a good night's sleep?" She got to her feet and headed for the stairs again, still talking. "After all, you've got a busy day tomorrow, what with sitting around looking adorable and everything."
Elizabeth reached Kristin's room and put her back in her crib, where Kristin immediately curled up with one of her stuffed bears. "Good night," Elizabeth said, running a hand over Kristin's soft hair. She turned out the light and left the door open just a little. Then she returned to her bedroom, expecting to find Patrick still awake with the paper. Instead, she found that Patrick had fallen asleep. One hand still held a bit of the paper but it was hanging over the side of the bed. Elizabeth stood in the doorway for a minute, just studying his familiar profile and admiring how young and innocent he looked when he was asleep. How could she be angry with him? He did his best. Elizabeth let out her breath and approached the bed. Gently, she took the newspaper from his hand and folded it up, setting it aside on the dresser. Then she adjusted the pillows behind his head and pulled one side of the comforter up to cover his body. "Good night, Patrick," she said softly, leaning down to kiss him. Patrick stirred slightly but didn't wake. Elizabeth looked at him once more, then reached up and turned off his lamp.
Then she went to bed.
* * * *
January, 1982. Stoneybrook.
New Year's Resolution, Elizabeth thought as she pushed Kristin in her baby stroller down the sidewalk on Bradford Court. Start looking to get back in the work force.
Beside her, Mika, who was pushing Claudia, was chattering away about the work she was doing with the library. After her husband, John, came home from work in the afternoons, he watched the kids so that Mika could get in a few evening hours at the library. Mika was in heaven these days, since there was talk of her being promoted to assistant head librarian. Elizabeth couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy at Mika's happiness. It wasn't that Elizabeth herself wasn't happy, but sometimes she wished there were more to her life than taking care of the kids. She remembered graduation night back in 1969, so long ago. She'd told Hannah that she wanted to have a career, and it looked like she'd been on her way. Except here she was, being a housewife. Elizabeth loved her family, but she still couldn't help wishing that she had more.
"I think I'm going to go back to school," she said out loud, breaking right into Mika's conversation.
"What?" Mika blinked.
They were approaching the corner of the road, and Elizabeth took the opportunity to stop for a rest. She eased Kristin's stroller over the grass and then sat down on the curb. She was only wearing a pair of faded jeans and one of Patrick's sweatshirts, so she didn't mind that the ground was dirty. Mika, however, was dressed up, so she stood on the sidewalk a safe distance from the grass.
Elizabeth crossed her legs Indian-style. "Go back to school," she repeated. "I can take night classes or something, after Patrick gets home."
"You don't need to go back to school," Mika pointed out. "You've already got a degree in journalism."
"Yeah, but I can't do anything with it," Elizabeth replied. "I already know I can't be a journalist and a mom. But maybe I can do something else, like accounting or something like that."
Mika looked a little doubtful. "If you say so—" she began, but just then she was cut off by the sound of another stroller. "Hi!" a voice called. Elizabeth and Mika turned to see Alma Spier heading down the sidewalk towards them, pushing Mary Anne.
"Hello, Alma," Mika called, waving. Elizabeth also smiled, getting to her feet and brushing off the back of her jeans.
"Alma, how are you doing?" Elizabeth asked warmly.
Alma managed a small smile. "I'm here," she replied. "I'm good."
Elizabeth nodded, studying Alma a little critically. The previous fall, Elizabeth found out that Alma had been diagnosed with a serious illness. She was pretty sick, and the doctors weren't sure exactly how long she had. Just thinking that made Elizabeth sad. Alma was so sweet and caring and it wasn't fair that she may not live long enough to even see her daughter grow up.
Elizabeth pushed the thoughts from her mind. "We were just discussing careers," she said instead. "I'm thinking of going back to school and getting a degree in accounting."
"Oh, that sounds nice," Alma said.
"Yes," Elizabeth agreed. "I think it would be a good change for me."
Mika changed the subject. "I've got an idea," she said. "Let's get inside out of this cold weather and have some nice, strong, hot tea. We can talk more once we're not freezing." She grinned.
"You've got a point," Alma agreed, laughing. "Let's go."
Elizabeth spent the rest of the afternoon with Mika and Alma. They gathered in Mika's kitchen and drank tea and talked about everything under the sun while their three daughters played together in the playpen. Patrick had taken the afternoon off and was at home with Charlie and Sam, to which Elizabeth was grateful. The more time she spent with her friends, the better it was. She could feel herself relaxing. By the time evening fell and it was time that Elizabeth had to head home, she felt closer than ever to Mika and especially Alma.
* * * *
A siren was wailing. Elizabeth, who was in a state of deep sleep, could hear the sound and it intertwined with her dreams, creating a disturbing buzz. Gradually, she was aware that someone was saying her name. "Elizabeth," someone said. "Liz, wake up."
Elizabeth groaned as she opened her eyes. Her bedroom was dark and shadowy around her; the only light was coming from the small electrical clock on the nightstand. 3:47 am. Was Kristin crying? Elizabeth was confused.
"Elizabeth," the voice said again. It was Patrick. Elizabeth turned over to face him. Patrick was sitting up, reaching for the small lamp on his side. "Patrick?" Elizabeth murmured. "What's wrong?"
"I think someone is knocking at the door," Patrick replied. Elizabeth frowned, and a second later she heard a faint pounding from downstairs. Patrick seemed annoyed. "Who on earth is knocking at three in the damned morning?" he grumbled as he swung his legs out of bed and reached for his robe. Elizabeth followed his lead and reached out for her terry-cloth robe, which was slung over her desk chair. She sat up and pulled her robe on over her pajamas before running a hand through her sleep-tousled blonde hair. Patrick was already heading downstairs. "Wait," Elizabeth said as she hurried after him. Together, they made their way down the stairs and into the front hall. Patrick flipped on a light and swung open the door. "What in the hell—" he started to say, but the sight of Richard Spier standing there cut him off.
Richard was holding Mary Anne in his arms, and on his face was a look of total distress. "Richard, what's wrong?" Elizabeth asked immediately. "Are you okay?"
Richard shook his head. "I'm sorry to barge over here like this," he said, "but I'm afraid I'm having an emergency. Alma stopped breathing in her sleep. I called 911 and she was just taken to the hospital on respitory support, and I need to go over there. I'm sorry to ask this, but can I leave Mary Anne here? The hospital isn't the best place for an infant, especially at this time of night."
"Of course!" Elizabeth stepped forward to collect Mary Anne from his arms. "Do you need anything else? A ride to the hospital, maybe?"
"No, I've got it," Richard replied. "Thank you so much, Elizabeth. And Patrick. Like I said, I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience—"
"Don't even worry about it," Elizabeth but him off. She touched his shoulder gently. "You can always count on us."
"Yeah, it's no trouble," Patrick finally said.
"Thank you," Richard said, looking incredibly relieved.
Elizabeth nodded. "I hope she's okay," she whispered.
Richard nodded. "Thanks again," he replied. With that, he had turned and headed back to his own yard. Elizabeth closed the door and looked up at Patrick. Patrick looked a little exhausted, but still concerned. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked.
"I hope so." Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears at the thought of Alma, and she blinked rapidly. Then she turned her attention to Mary Anne, who looked calm despite the chaos around her. "Come on, Mary Anne," she said quietly. "I'm going to give you some milk and then you can sleep in Kristin's room. It'll be your very first sleepover, isn't that fun?"
Patrick hesitated. "Do you need me to do anything, Liz?" he asked.
Elizabeth shook her head. "Thanks, Patrick, but I've got it. Why don't you get back to bed? You need some sleep before you're supposed to wake up."
Patrick nodded and touched her arm, then turned and headed back up the stairs. Elizabeth busied herself with fixing a bottle for Mary Anne and then sitting down in her rocking chair. As she fed the bottle to Mary Anne, she couldn't help looking at the small girl's infant face, and as she took in the young features, she felt her heart wrench. Alma may not pull through, and poor Mary Anne wouldn't have a mother. Elizabeth couldn't imagine going through childhood and adolescence without Hannah. Hell, she needed Hannah even now that she was grown up and married. Elizabeth's thoughts drifted to her own children and she felt guilty for ever thinking that being a mother wasn't enough. Some people, like Alma, may never get that chance at all.
Elizabeth finished feeding Mary Anne and then carried her upstairs to Kristin's bedroom. Kristin, who was sound asleep, didn't even stir as Elizabeth gently laid Mary Anne in the crib. "Everything's going to be okay, Mary Anne," Elizabeth said. Just then, the phone rang. Elizabeth practically flew from the bedroom down the hall to her own bedroom. Patrick, who hadn't quite gotten back to sleep, reached for the phone. "Hello?" he said. "Yes. yes. . . oh, no . . . no, of course. . . right. . . I'm really sorry . . . okay. All right . . . goodbye." He hung up the phone and turned to Elizabeth, who was clenching her fists so tight that her knuckles had turned white. "What happened?" she asked.
Patrick's eyes looked sad. "That was Richard," he said. "They couldn't revive Alma . . . they're still doing tests to find out just why she stopped breathing, but she . . . she didn't make it."
Elizabeth stared at him for a couple of seconds, letting the news sink in. Then her face crumpled. "Oh, Patrick," she said, letting out a sob. Patrick immediately enfolded her in his arms and held her close. Elizabeth couldn't cry, she was too shocked and saddened. She just held onto Patrick tightly, feeling sorrow like never before. Poor Alma…poor Richard and Mary Anne.
As if she knew what was happening, Mary Anne started wailing from down the hall. Elizabeth pulled back, wiping her eyes. "I should go to her," she said.
"I'll get her," he offered. "Get some sleep, okay, Liz? I told Richard that Mary Anne could stay here until he gets back from the hospital tomorrow. Everything's going to be fine."
Elizabeth nodded. Patrick helped her lay down and even tucked her in. Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time Patrick had been so attentive and helpful and understanding, but she appreciated it. "Thanks, Patrick," she whispered.
He nodded and kissed her forehead, and Elizabeth dozed into a troubled sleep.
* * *
June, 1983. Stoneybrook, Connecticut.
Elizabeth hurried down her front walkway towards the mailbox. She was expecting a confirmation letter in the mail any day now, confirming that she was registered for two night classes at Stoneybrook University. It had taken awhile, but she'd finally convinced Patrick that this would be good for her. So in exchange for her going to school on Monday and Wednesday nights, Patrick would go on Tuesday and Thursday nights for a journalism course. Elizabeth was happy about the arrangement.
She crossed the sidewalk and opened the mailbox, but instead of finding her letter, she found a magazine offer and a couple of bills. "Darn," she murmured.
Just as she was closing her mailbox, the sound of stroller wheels got her attention. She looked up in time to see Richard Spier approaching her, pushing Mary Anne in her stroller. The mere sight was enough to cause a lump to form in Elizabeth's throat. After Alma's death, Richard had been so torn apart that he'd sent Mary Anne to live with Alma's parents in Maynard, Iowa. Mary Anne had been gone about a year and a half, and had just returned to Stoneybrook a couple of weeks before. Richard had sent for her because he missed her and he felt that he could take care of his baby. Elizabeth was so glad to see father and daughter reunited. Two-year-old Mary Anne looked pleased about it too.
"Hi, Richard," Elizabeth said as she approached the stroller and checked in on Mary Anne. "Hey there," Elizabeth continued, talking to Mary Anne. "How are you doing?"
"Look at my little girl," Richard said proudly. "Isn't she beautiful?" Richard smiled at Elizabeth, and it was the first time she'd seen him smile since Alma died. The lump in Elizabeth's throat grew bigger. "She is," Elizabeth agreed, with tears in her eyes. "I'm glad to see her back."
"Me too," Richard agreed. He smiled again and started to push the stroller on down the sidewalk. Elizabeth watched him, remembering seeing Alma push the same stroller down the same walk. Mary Anne didn't have a mother anymore, but she had a wonderful father. Elizabeth knew that everything would be okay.
* * *