By the Southern Cross

"You must be so disappointed in me."

Jean paused and felt her heart sink into her stomach. She put her apron over the back of the chair and hurried to where Mattie was standing and fidgeting nervously. "Mattie, you mustn't think like that," she said emphatically. "I'm not your mother."

And that was the truth. Jean was not her mother. She was not any woman's mother. She did not have the blessing of a daughter of her own. Oh Mattie was as close as Jean would ever come to a daughter, she knew. Christopher was married to Ruby who certainly did not want any of Jean's mothering. And Jack might never get married, what with the way he seemed to carry on.

Sometimes Jean looked at Mattie and almost felt like she was her daughter. Wished it, even. If Jean's own daughter had lived, she'd be just a few years older than Mattie, actually. Would she have been headstrong and independent like Mattie? Would she have fought for her education and this liberal worldview the way Mattie did? Jean herself had wished to be like that, once upon a time. But the reality of farm life and living just barely above poverty closed off those possibilities. Mattie was the daughter of a Minister of Commerce. Mattie had been privileged to her education and her freedom in a way Jean or even any daughter of Jean's never would have been able to be.

"There are times you haven't approved of my decisions," Mattie pressed.

"No," Jean disagreed. She took Mattie's hands in hers. "Truth be told, there's actually been times when I've been…quite envious of you. The way you don't let anybody dictate who you are or where you should go. I've never been disappointed in you. Not for a moment."

Tears welled up in Mattie's eyes. Jean had so often held her tongue when it came to Mattie, it was true. It wasn't so much that she hadn't approved of Mattie's choices but, as Jean had confessed, that she was just the slightest bit jealous. If Jean had ever possessed even an ounce of Mattie's bravery, perhaps she would have lived a very different life. Instead she was left being the sort of woman that Mattie herself was terrified to become. That did hurt Jean at times, that Mattie did not have much interest in learning to cook or knit or sew the way Jean had been forced to do in order to survive in her world. The idea that, given the choice, no one would have chosen the life Jean led. Most days it did not bother her. Most days she did not think about it. But sometimes it was difficult to ignore. All through it, though, Jean was never disappointed in Mattie or her choices. No, if she was honest, Jean was sometimes disappointed in herself.

Jean gave her a friendly smile and an affection pinch of the chin. "Come on. We've got places to go." She held Mattie's hand and led her out to where Lucien was waiting with the car.