A Few Days with Laura Sidle Chapter 5

"Never think your mother has deserted you, Sara. Every day you will be in our prayers. We have two other women living here who have adult children." She had taken Sara's hand as they walked. "I would be honored to have you as part of our extended family. We don't want birthday cards or visits on certain days, just come when you can. We take care of each other—your mother will never want for anything here; our needs are simple."

They had stopped at a bench—Sara realized it was placed equal distance from house and barn. "I do appreciate all you have done," Sara said. "I know my thanks are not enough. And my mother does seem to be content here." She looked at the starry night and thought about Las Vegas—about the sky outside of the city. "It is beautiful here. Peaceful."

"That's part of why we are so selective about letting people live with us. We don't look for people but like to think people find us." The woman chuckled and leaned toward Sara. "I say that and I know Sister Deborah searches for women who will fit into our group."

The two women sat on the bench until total darkness came making the lights in the house even brighter as they watched women moving around inside.

"Do you feel safe here?" Sara asked. "Do you have any protection or security?"

The older nun patted Sara's hand. "Dear, we have God." Sara stopped a snort as Mother Veronica continued. "I know what you mean—I know you work with crime. Yes, we do have an alarm system. And beyond the meadow, in the trees, is another farm house. We are linked to them. Yes, we feel quite safe here."

A comfortable silence surrounded the two until the night air chilled and a few lights turned off in the house.

"It's time we go in, Sara. Thank you for coming, for caring about your mother. Go on with your life without worry about her. Visit—any time."

When they arrived in the house, Sara was sure everyone knew the two had been together but no one seemed to notice their arrival or, for that matter, the absence of either. Sara's mother, saying few words, and Sister Deborah, who also appeared to be a sort of social director, showed her to a small bedroom. A clean gown, towels, new socks, a comb, and a new toothbrush were stacked on the bed. Her mother pointed out the shared bathroom and left Sara to prepare for bed.

Sara was alone in a bathroom which reminded her of dorm life except liquid soap and shampoo was in each immaculately clean shower. The floor squeaked from cleanliness. She wrapped a small towel around her wet hair, slipped into the gown and pulled the socks on. The cotton gown had obviously been worn, but smelled of sunshine and fresh air. She returned to her room and found her bed turned down and a hand-sewn quilt across the foot of the bed.

A small lamp was on but otherwise, the room was bare of decorations with the exception of a small cross over the bed. After hanging her clothes in a tall cabinet, she crawled in bed, awake, with no book to read and certainly no television to watch. She pulled her knees to her chin and sat in bed. Usually she would be eating dinner now and still have several hours before her midnight shift started.

There was a light knock on her door and her mother's face appeared as it opened. "May I come in?" Her mother smiled the same smile that Sara saw in her own mirror.

"Sure."

"I know it's the wrong bed time for you, so I brought you a book." She held out an old book. "You liked this one when you were young."

It was the story of a young orphan in Canada. Sara had not thought about the book in years. "I remember this story!" She flipped the pages to find drawings to accompany the story. "I must have been nine or ten when I read this."

Her mother waved her hand and Sara moved over so both could sit side by side. "It's been a long time since I read to my little girl. I thought it might help you sleep if I could do it tonight."

Sara smiled this time and handed the book back to her mother. "I always wanted red hair." She slid underneath the covers and curled so she could see her mother's face. Her mother began to read the first chapter of the book. Laura Sidle was home, her daughter decided, hearing her mother's voice calmly saying words from a book written about a young girl.

She remembered the haunted look on the face of her mother just three years previously when neither knew what to say or what to do with the other. They had not talked at first—what does one say to a mother who has been absent while the child grew up? Sara could recall details of the night her father died but not of the day before. She had so few memories of her childhood she sometimes wondered if there was a medical name for this form of amnesia.

Tonight, her mother was relaxed. Her eyes were clear and focused; her skin glowed from sun exposure and her graying hair was cut short around her face. This place had brought about a much needed change.

Sara sighed, loudly enough to cause her mother to raise her eyes.

"What wrong, honey?" Her mother closed the book. Her hand came to rest across her daughter's hand.

"Are you happy, Mom?"

Her mother nodded. "I am, Sara. I really am. This is a good life for me." Her laugh was a quiet one. "It took a long time to get here but I believe I am where I belong."

Sara nodded. "I don't want to lose you."

Laura wrapped her hand around Sara's. "You haven't lost me; you helped me find myself." She paused for a full minute. "Mother Veronica talked to you? She is a kind woman and means what she says. You will always be welcomed here." She smiled a genuine broad grin. "Bring your Las Vegas friend out here for a day. Let him meet us, share a meal at our table."

Sara smiled at her suggestion. "I don't know about that, Mom. He's a city guy—not sure he would understand farm life with a group of women."

"Bring him. You might be surprised at his reaction to us." She passed the book to Sara. "Can you sleep?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay with all this? You can visit any time—spend the night or a week."

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm happy you are happy. I really am. I want you to stay well and happy."

Laura Sidle leaned to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Sweet Sara—you always were as a child, thinking of everyone else. Do you want to keep the book?"

"I think I will—read for awhile, then I can sleep. Thank you."

Sara read for two hours before going to sleep. She had forgotten much of the story, especially the character's boyfriend—his name was Gilbert. Her mother entered the bedroom early in the morning and gently removed the book from Sara's hand.