Chapter Four

A fortunate young lady needs no advice, except a very good old-fashioned reminder, that she "should obey her mother, and be a good girl." If she does just that, if she avoids clandestine meetings with young gentlemen, and all foolish love affairs, and takes care of her health, she may be quite sure that her bark will float gaily on to the comfortable port of a happy marriage and a successful future.
-Mary Elizabeth Wilson Sherwood, "Etiquette: The American Code of Manners"

Sunday mornings were for church, followed by rest and relaxation and culminating in visiting hour. Elizabeth came to wake me in the morning for the church service. As I hadn't been to a service in years, I opted out. I told her I still had rest to catch up on – after all, my mind and body still believed to be hours ahead in Europe.

When I eventually did awaken, I pulled on the robe I had taken out of my luggage the night before. My hair, which had been tied in a nice braid behind my head, had become unruly and undone. Loose tendrils fell around my face and stuck out at odd ends.

I yawned as I pulled on the slippers and made my way down the stairs to the kitchen. I walked quickly through the dining room where all the commotion took place last night. I tried not to think about it.

"Ah, good morning, miss," Anna happily greeted me.

I almost jumped. "Oh, Anna. You gave me a fright. I thought you'd be at church with the Cuttings."

"Can't," she answered. "I've got to get the visitor's food finished and lunch underway."

"You're not religious?" I was happy someone was finally like me – not a religion fanatic, afraid of doing good just to go to some place no one had any physical proof of. The only religion I needed was novels.

Anna shrugged. "I wouldn't say that. I believe in God and Heaven and all that. I read the good book in my own time, Miss. Toast?"

I sat on a chair in the corner. "Yes, please. Thank you."

It took me all my might to stay awake in that seat while I waited for the bread. It had to have been well past 10 o'clock in the morning but my body ached with exhaustion. The moment my bread was buttered in brought to me on a small plate, I heard the back door open as the four family members and Delores walked in.

"It's another hot one," I could hear Teddy say, probably to Anna.

"I'll make more lemonade," she told him from the kitchen.

They made their way into the kitchen, the little ones leading the way, screeching in laughter as they ran off to play. Delores chased after them.

"Good morning, Diana!" Teddy exclaimed upon seeing me in my disheveled state. Seven years ago, I might have been embarrassed to be seen in such a state by a man, but growing up in the tough towns in Europe made me numb to that. "Glad to see you've awakened. Sleep well?"

I could hear the sarcasm dripping in his voice, saturating every word. I snickered and rolled my eyes. Elizabeth laughed and took his coat from him to hang it up.

"Teddy," I said after swallowing a rather large bite, "I was wondering if you could drive me to Gramercy today? I really would like to see Mother – after all, that's the point of my return."

Elizabeth and Teddy exchanged glances nervously. All laughter and sarcasm was now out of the room.

"Are you sure about that, Di?" Elizabeth asked.

I wrinkled my brow. "Am I sure? Why, of course I'm sure!"

"It's just…" Teddy stepped forward. "Your mother, Diana, is in such a delicate state–"

I immediately stood from my seat. Any exhaustion was now burned out of my body, replaced by a fire within. "You keep saying things like that. She's my mother too. Despite the quibbles we got into, she is still my mother. And I have a right to see her. Elizabeth?" I turned to my sister, hoping for support. She stayed silent, offering none. "One way or another, I will see her, whether by your driving or my walking." Despite being gone for so many years, I still remembered the map of New York like the back of my hand.

"Oh stop being so dramatic," Elizabeth finally sighed. She turned to Teddy and said, "Just take her. She'll have to see sooner or later." I saw Teddy give her the are you sure about that? look. She simply nodded and they each turned back to me. "Let's all change and then he can take you."

My heart raced. Finally, what I had come to actually do was happening. I would see Mother, let her know I am alright, and be on my way soon enough back out of this country. No matter the amount of love and affection shown to me on my visit so far by Elizabeth and her beautiful family, New York was still not my home. Not anymore.

"Thank you," I tried to say calmly but it came out through a tight throat, constricted by excitement.

Surely Mother was fine. She was always fine. No illness kept Louisa Holland down for long. That woman was a warrior in her own right. When she saw me, she would be happy. Granted, that probably wouldn't be the first emotion to cross her mind. Eventually, though, she would be happy for my return. I would help her get healthy once more before leaving again. I would promise to stay out of trouble for the time I was in the city, and even beyond in Europe. Of course I could never tell her my line of work or what it was I had to go through to get my wages.

I raced back to my room where I bathed quickly (thanks to the bath drawn by Anna shortly after she made my toast) and put on the same traveling outfit as yesterday. Just as I was tying the ribbon for my hat below my chin, Elizabeth walked in and stopped in her tracks.

"You can't honestly be wearing that," she said, her voice disapproving. I felt as though I was sixteen again.

I looked down at my shirtwaist and skirt. "What's wrong with this?"

"If you don't know, then you've been gone far too long," she responded with a chuckle. "Come – I'll give you one of mine to wear."

When I first left New York, my body had still retained the softness of a child. My skin was pale and doughy, soft and plump to the touch. Now, after living with only one meal a day and little money to live off of, my skin had gained hardness and I had lost much of the excess weight I didn't know I even carried. Elizabeth had always been thin and wafer-like. She walked like a ballerina on shattered glass with her waist impossibly thin. I could never have dreamed of fitting in any dress Elizabeth had ever owned, but through her pregnancies and my weight loss, we were just about the same size.

She gave me a pale blue dress made of silk and lined in ivory. It was finer than anything I had worn in years, but I guess I had been saying that about a lot of things since my arrival back in the city. The floral ivory pattern started densely at the base of the skirt and faded as it got closer to the waist. The blouse she gave me was of matching pale blue, but made of thicker cotton. The white collar clung to my neck. By the time I was dressed, I was already sweating from the heat entering into the house.

"No one should recognize that dress – I only just bought it. I planned to use it to receive guests this afternoon, but you need it more than I do," she said. Elizabeth stood in front of me and stared right into my eyes, not even taking in how the dress fit me – still about a size too small. It cinched my waist and chest a little tighter than I would have liked. With her hands on my arms, she said in a very serious tone, "Diana, you have to be prepared for what you are about to see with Mother."

I swallowed. "You're scaring me, Liz."

"I know," she said, nodding. She sighed. "Mother has been sick for a long time, Di. Longer than Edith was telling you. It's not good."

I shook my head. "She's going to be alright though, right? Isn't she?"

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth whispered. "The doctors aren't hopeful."

I took a step back. "What's wrong with her?" I couldn't even imagine a life in which Louisa Holland was not alive.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Elizabeth said after a moment.

"Of course!" I nodded. "You said so yourself – I should be prepared."

"It's consumption."

Consumption.

I had heard it whispered and gossiped about in the city and in Europe. I had never met anyone with it, but I knew from talking how terrible of an illness it was. It had no prejudices, no preferences – it attacked anyone. There had been talks of a cure but nothing concrete. My mind immediately flew into a million thoughts an hour, thinking of ways to save Mother.

"It's no use," Elizabeth said, reading my thoughts through my eyes. "Doctors have tried everything. She's not getting better."

"When was everyone going to tell me?" I asked, suddenly hurt. The letters I had received mentioned nothing of the severity of her illness. Had I not come, would they have told me at all?

"She still has some time left. We were waiting until we knew it was close to the end."

I shook my head and moved back even further. "I need to go."

She had sounded so calm – serious, but calm. Of course, she had known about this illness for longer than I. She'd had time to adjust. I hadn't.

I left the room without saying anything to her. I lifted the silk skirts and went down the stairs.

"Ready, Miss Diana?" Teddy asked at the end of the stairs. Again I said nothing to him but instead raced right by him to the back door. "Diana – your hat!"

I didn't care. I needed to see Mother, to see for myself the truth of Elizabeth's words. I had always known Penelope had a flair for the dramatic, but never Elizabeth. If what she was saying was true, I had to see it for myself. I could hear Teddy's feet chasing after me, grabbing a hat for himself.

The ride there felt longer than the sailing back to America. Dull houses, each looking like the last, went by us slowly. This time, I didn't hear the roaring of the engine or feel the shake of the body. For once since my trip, I felt totally and completely numb. I didn't know if Teddy was trying to speak to me. I heard no more words. I was stuck only inside my own thoughts.

Never once did it cross my mind that Mother would die. Of course, I knew it would happen at some point, but never now. It felt too soon. I was only twenty-four years old – I wasn't ready to lose both my parents. I remembered the pain distinctly when my father died unexpectedly. I thought my world was crashing and crumbling all around me. I knew now it was only the beginning of our woes in the Holland family. Perhaps it was his death that we later found out was a murder that sparked all the changes since then – Elizabeth's marriages, my bittersweet love with Henry, and so, so much more.

I tried not to think too hard about it. It was driving me down, down… deep into a dark hole I knew I would never be able to drag myself out of. It wasn't time for Mother's death, at least not yet. There was time. I didn't know how much of it there was, but it was there.

On the drive, I didn't recognize anywhere we were. The city, while I felt it was still the exact same as when I left, had changed. Buildings were taller, larger, with barely any space between them. I once thought the city was suffocating before, but now it was even more so. Eventually, though, we turned down our street and everything was suddenly familiar again. The large, old houses lined the street each with varying dark brick on their outer walls. I saw our doorway and suddenly couldn't contain myself. Hat or no hat, I didn't care if anyone saw me. I leapt out of the automobile, Teddy probably screaming after me, and ran down the rest of the street toward our home.

Whereas the city was unrecognizable, 17 Gramercy hadn't changed one bit. The dark brick greeted me like an old friend. Our door was coated with a fresh paint of navy blue – its dark gold nob glittered in the summer sunlight and the windowpanes were covered in a light lace curtain. From the outside, it looked as though no activity were happening inside. The 7 years I was gone faded away as if it never had happened. I turned the knob and entered into the musty home. It was once so kept up, being cleaned daily by our housemaids and the like, but since we fell into financial problems after Father's death we had to make cuts to much of our staff. Elizabeth had inherited all of Cairns' money even though most of it technically belonged to Keller but not until his eighteenth birthday. She had used this money to get new maids for the house, though much less than it was once used to. I had never met these new maids – until now.

"Excuse me, Miss," one came around the corner saying. She had a sweet face, but her expressions were stern. "Can I help you?" She was old – somewhere between Mother's age and mine.

"Oh," I said, suddenly dumbfounded. I hadn't realized she had no idea who I was either and probably assumed I was some stranger barging into a wealthy home. "I'm no robber."

That was stupid, I scolded myself.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked again. "If not, you'd best be on your way now."

The door behind me opened again and Teddy came running in, breathless. The maid probably thought it was another obtrusive guest before she recognized him. Her face lit up and immediately changed to one of happiness.

"Mr. Cutting!" she exclaimed.

"Hello Ethel," he replied in short. "I see you've met Diana." His tone was obviously one of disapproval.

Ethel's eyes turned to me and they widened. "Diana?"

"Hi," I said meekly.

"Oh, my – please, come in!" Ethel said and began apologizing profusely.

I told her to pay no mind and Teddy and I began taking off our traveling jackets. The house was dark – the familiar cherry wood walls inside reminded me of what I used to think as a child: that this home was a crypt and I was trapped in a tomb inside.

"Diana wishes to see Mrs. Holland," Teddy told Ethel. "Is she awake?"

Ethel's eyes turned down to the ground. "She has good days and bad days, as you well know, Mr. Cutting. I'm afraid today isn't her best. She's been in and out today. The morphine the doctor gave her is keeping her sluggish all days."

I swallowed the lump that had grown in my throat while she was speaking. "Can I see her?"

"I'm afraid that's probably not what's best at this–" Ethel began saying before getting cut off by a familiar figure coming into the room.

"What's all this hold up Ethel?" Aunt Edith said. "Diana!" she exclaimed upon seeing me. She wrapped me in her arms.

Time had been kind to Aunt Edith – she looked nearly the same as when I had left. Her hair was in the same pompadour as it always was growing up. The only difference was the color. Where once it was grey, it had gone almost completely white now. The familiar lines on her face were in their exact same place, as was the glitter in her eyes.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, my child," Aunt Edith breathed into my ear. She moved back a pace. "It's been too long."

"I've missed you too, Aunt Edith," I replied in kind. Though really, as happy as I was to see her, my feet were aching to race upstairs to Mother's room. "I was wondering if I could see Mother? I've heard such awful things and I would really love to see her."

Aunt Edith took a breath in. "The doctor says it's not a good idea. He says studies have shown that consumption can be quite contagious and it's best not to risk the rest of the household's health by visiting her." My heart was breaking for Mother (something I never thought I would think). To be so severely sick and not be allowed visitors? It seemed like her own personal Hell. Aunt Edith's eyes glittered mischievously and she added, "Though you've never known me to follow much of the rules, have you?" I smiled and she said, "Go on up. I'll have them make some sandwiches for luncheon and tell everyone we are not receiving visitors this Sunday."

My smile turned into a grin. I hurriedly kissed Aunt Edith on the cheek and raced up the old, creaking stairs clutching my skirts in my hands. I reached the top of the steps and froze. To my left was Mother's room, straight ahead was Elizabeth's old room, and to my right was mine. A piece of me wanted to enter these rooms, just to see how much they had changed or if they had even changed at all. However, that piece of me was much, much smaller than the part that urged to see Mother.

It had been seven years since I've seen her or even spoken to her. No letters, no packages – nothing. She had pushed me away and acted as if Elizabeth was her one and only child from her years of marriage. I suddenly ceased to exist in her mind. Then again, perhaps she was just hurt that I had left without a word. Just as she had never reached out to me, I never quite reached out to her either. That was years ago, though – perhaps now old feelings could be put aside for these last few moments she had left on this earth.

The walk to her door was by far the longest it had ever felt. The dark wood of her door was so memorable I felt seventeen again. I touched the cold knob and turned it. The door opened slowly and stiffly, the heat from the summer expanding the wood.

The room was dark. The blinds were drawn, hiding the summer light that would fill this otherwise black room. The windows hadn't been opened in quite some time – I could tell by the musty smell in the room. The air in here hadn't moved. There were no sounds except for the shallow, squeaky breathing coming from the bed. Each step I took forward was startlingly loud. The heels of my boots were louder than I had ever heard them before. I tried to step quietly, afraid of waking her.

My mind flashed to another memory – this one not of Mother. Instead, it was at the house Snowden had bought for Elizabeth and their marriage. I had visited many times while Elizabeth was supposedly sick during her pregnancy. It felt all too familiar stepping into a dark, musty room where a lady from my family was forcibly put to sleep. I knew the doctor had no malicious intentions like Snowden did, but it gave me shivers down my spine nonetheless.

"Mother?" I whispered. I was expecting some kind of remark from her bed, but none came.

"Mother, it's me. Diana." Still silence. I figured at the mention of my name there would at lease be some ruffle. None.

I inched closer to her bed. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see form underneath the covers. Louisa Holland would never be classified as overweight, but after bearing the pregnancies of her two children, the loss of her husband, and the fake news of Elizabeth's death, Louisa had gained a healthy amount of weight. Seeing her in that bed, I was appalled. This woman was not the woman I had remembered as my mother. This woman was a skeleton of her. She looked as though she were already decomposing in that bed. Virtually no fat or muscle remained on her body. Skin was stuck tight to her bones. Her cheeks and eyes were so sunken I almost had to step back in shock. Her hair was so thin it barely looked like she had any at all.

"Oh, Mother," I managed, my voice tight in my throat. I sat on the edge of the bed and touched her bony hand – it was nearly ice cold. If it weren't for her raspy breathing, I wouldn't think she was alive at all.

"I'm home." My voice cracked. "I'm finally home. Can't you feel me? Can you hear me at all?"

I could physically feel my heart breaking inside my chest. Ribs splintering, stomach getting tied up in knots. Elizabeth and Teddy had tried to warn me, but nothing could have prepared me for this.

I stayed quiet for what seemed like a long time, waiting to see if she would respond at all, even just a twitch of her fingers in my hand.

"Please, say something," I begged. My voice was barely above a whisper.

Still, she remained silent. I leaned down and planted a kiss on her cheek, and another on her hand. Tears fell on to her knuckles.

This is your chance. Your chance to say your goodbyes.

I didn't know if she could feel me, or even hear me. But I kept clutching her hand and said through my thick throat and tears, "Mother, I am so sorry. I'm so sorry for being such a disappointment to you and everyone. I never intended for anything like this to happen. Love just… happens. I can't control it – no one can. And I loved him. I loved – love – him with everything inside of me. And I know that's not what you would want to hear, but he was everything to me. You loved Father, and Elizabeth loved William. Sometimes it's right, and sometimes it's wrong. I know I chose wrong, and I know leaving wasn't right either. But I couldn't stay here. This city isn't my home anymore." I shook my head, trying to figure out the right words to say. "Even though we have been through much together, the good and the bad – though mostly the bad – I loved you. I can only hope that you loved me, too. I think you did. I think you were just hurt that I had left, and I can understand that. I would be, too. But… please… just wake up." I had to pause to gather myself before completely losing it. I continued, "Wake up, so we can let bygones be bygones. We can be mother and daughter once more. Please."

I leaned down again and rested my forehead on her hand before silently weeping into it. I shoulder heaved with every tear escaping my eyes. I tried to stifle myself so as not to alert anyone downstairs. I was silently breaking.

"My… Di… ana…."

It was barely audible. I almost didn't hear it at all. It was the clutch tightening in my hand that alerted my eyes upwards. Her eyes were still closed, but Louisa's mouth was moving.

"Mother? Mother!" Relief flooded through me. Maybe if she was able to awaken, she was able to get better. There was hope.

"Di…" she whispered.

I grabbed her hand tighter and inched closer to her. "I'm here. Oh, I'm here Mother."

Suddenly, I heard doors opening and closing rather loudly downstairs and some shuffling. I tried not to pay any mind to it, but through the muffled words, I could hear one name that immediately drew me.

"Henry, stop." Teddy was speaking, and Ethel was quickly saying something as well but her voice was too quiet.

I jumped up from the bed and padded quietly to the door. I pressed my ear to it, hoping to gather more information.

"She's here?"

I put all my weight on the side of the door to keep myself from falling down. It was him. It was his voice. I would recognize it anywhere. I used the handle of the door to steady myself.

"Henry, what are you going on about?" Teddy responded. He was obviously trying to keep Henry calm.

"I know she's here, Teddy. Damn it, let me see her." He was anxious and on the verge of yelling.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Teddy was keeping his voice low and calm. I was grateful then. I didn't want Henry seeing me, especially in the state I was. I was a wet, blubbering mess. "Can't you see the ruckus you're causing? This is not the place. This is the last thing Mrs. Holland needs."

"I know what I saw!" His voice suddenly rose when he yelled, "DIANA! I know you're up there."

Steps toward the stairs were heard, and I inched back from the door.

"Henry, stop." The steps stopped just as soon as they had started. I could only assume Teddy had grabbed him.

"She's here," Henry said, quieter this time, "isn't she?"

There was a long pause. Please, I wanted to say, Please don't tell him.

Finally, Teddy spoke, "If she wants to see you, she will find you."

Another long silence. Minutes passed, but it felt like hours. No one said a word, no one moved an inch. I didn't even know if I was breathing or holding my breath.

Don't come up here, I begged in my mind. Just leave.

"Fine." One word was all Henry said. I heard the steps retreating from the stairs and the doors slam on his way out.

It was then I realized that Ι was holding my breath. I let out a huge breath of air. I slid down the door and sat on the ground. I brought my knees up to my chest and held them close. I rested my forehead on my knees and tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back the tears.

Nothing was as it should be. Mother shouldn't be dying. Henry shouldn't know I'm back. Everything was falling apart, and I had only been here for a day. I suddenly wondered if I would actually be here for two weeks. Would Mother last that long? Would I?

I stood up from the ground and walked back to her bed. I sat on the edge and took her hand in mine again.

"Mother?" I called again.

It was no use. She was in her deep sleep once more.