The Last Part

Chapter 29

The night was warm and Federal Hill restaurants had left their tables out on the sidewalk for the Sunday night diners. Summer was definitely on the way. 

The three friends walked slowly, enjoying the balmy weather. It had been an eventful weekend, and all of them were tired. They walked home in silence, listening to snippets of conversation of people on the street and phrases of music wafting from the neighborhood bars. In the distance, they heard a dog bark, a plane closing in for a landing at the airport, a siren echoing off the rowhouses. 

They turned the corner from Cross Street to William and froze when they saw flashing lights reflecting off the buildings. Fire trucks had jammed the street. Water rolled down the street and Robin felt her heart beating hard in her chest. Black smoke poured from the roof of a Formstone house down the block. “My house,” she cried and ran through the thicket of neighbors, TV reporters and hoses. As she raced to the front door, a husky firefighter in yellow jacket and pants grabbed her arm.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

“It’s my house,” she said, looking up at the smoke, imagining fire racing through the rooms. 

TV cameras turned toward her as she shouted. 

“You can’t go in there. It’s filled with smoke.” The man’s voice softened as she relaxed her arm. She felt the energy flow out of her and was suddenly very tired. “How bad is it? Do you know?”

“Just a little fire. On the roof. Our men are in there keeping it from the neighboring houses. Don’t know what caused it but we think it might have been an electrical short in the roof. You can thank your neighbor here. She smelled smoke and when she couldn’t find anything in her house, called 9-1-1.”

It was Caitlin’s mother, Jennifer, that was the name she couldn’t seem to recall. She stood in front of her house, holding her daughter’s hand. She looked over and waved to Robin, a look of sympathy on her face.

“Anyway,” the firefighter continued, “you won’t be able to stay here. There’s smoke damage and water. Got another place to stay?”

“Yes, of course, she does,” Jane said, coming up from behind her. 

“Excuse me,” the firefighter said. “I’ve got to talk to the press here.”

Robin and her friends stood in the middle of the street and watched her house. Her neighbors came and stood beside her. 

“This is terrible,” Jennifer said, “I wish I could have called sooner.”

“No, it’s so good you called.”

“You have to worry about fire in a rowhouse, don’t you? Are you going to be all right?”

“Sure, thanks,” Robin said, and meant it. Though she had lived on the street for a long time, this was the first time she had spoken to her neighbor. Of course, they said hello when they met on the street but Robin was sure she had never invited her neighbor in or seen her house. She wasn’t even sure if she was married. Had she ever seen a husband?

“What about you? Can you stay in your house?” Robin asked Jennifer.

“No, not tonight. They want to be sure the fire is out and doesn’t jump to our house. And there’s smoke.”

“Even in your house?” 

“Yes, it gets in and makes a mess. That’s what they said. So I’ve already called my ex-husband. Caitlin’s dad. He’s taking Caitlin for a few days while I get things straightened out here. I’ll stay at a hotel near my office in Towson,” Jennifer said. “There’s Jake.” She patted Robin’s shoulder and wished her luck. 

Robin began to take in what had happened to her house. The front door had been chopped to splinters. Bits of her grapevine wreath were scattered on the marble steps. The windows were broken upstairs and hoses snaked inside. She watched the smoke, now white, rising from her roof. Water was everywhere. She couldn’t picture how it looked inside. It couldn’t be good, she thought.

A bright light shone in her eye as a camera turned her way again. “Excuse me, Miss?” a tall, thin blonde with a skinny notebook pushed a microphone in her face. “I understand this is your house. Do you know what happened?”

“No,” Robin said weakly. “Not yet.”

“How do you feel?” the reporter asked.

“How do you think she feels?” stormed Jim and pulled her away and led her across the street.

“Could you tell me your name?” she asked.

“Ignore her. You don’t need this right now,” Jim said.

“Thanks anyway, Miss Browne,” the woman called.

“Hey, how did she find that out so fast?” Jane asked. 

“Do you want to go to my house?” Jim asked her.

“No, I don’t want to go anywhere,” she said. “Not like this. I have to...”

“Yes, of course,” he replied. The three of them stood together watching as the firefighters did what they could to save Robin’s house, her grandmother’s house. Robin couldn’t imagine what her grandmother would have said if she had come upon this scene.

Finally, the balmy evening grew cooler and the crowd thinned as the cloud of smoke dissipated. One by one the fire trucks left until the scorching at the top of her house, the water still running down the street and the smell of smoke were the only clues of the fire. And the planks of wood nailed over her shattered front door.  

The firefighter who had stopped Robin earlier returned. “I don’t advise going into the house tonight,” he said. “It’s dark, bound to be slippery and smoky inside for a while yet.”

“But all my stuff is inside there,” she argued. “I need—”

“Ma’am, it isn’t safe,” he said. “Tomorrow will be soon enough. I can tell you that the fire didn’t cause too much damage. But there’s some smoke damage, water damage and a little breakage. After some clean-up and the electrical repairs and a new roof, you’ll be back in.”

“Of course, sir,” Jane said before Robin could argue again. Robin, realizing she was too tired to fight, merely nodded. “We’ll come back in the morning.”

“The fire marshall may stop by tomorrow with the final report. You’ll need that for your insurance. I know it looks bad,” he said kindly. “But you were lucky and your neighbors were lucky. It could have happened while you were sleeping.”

“Yes, thanks,” Robin said. “I guess you’re right.”

As the firefighter turned to get in his red SUV, Robin turned and looked again at her house. The Formstone was blackened around the windows. It looked so sad. The roof didn’t really look that bad, she thought. 

“Robin, dear, we just have to get out of all this water,” Jane said. “Come spend the night with me. I’ll bring you back before I go to school and you can get an early start in the house.”

“I’ll be over bright and early,” Jim added. “I think I can take a ‘personal day’ tomorrow.”

Robin’s cell phone rang. “It’s Mom,” she said.

“Hi, Mom—”

“How’s the house? I heard about the fire! Are you all right?”

“Yes, how did you hear? Yes, it’s fine. I’m fine. I wasn’t inside when it happened and I haven’t gotten inside. I don’t know how it is really,” she said. “How did you hear about this?”

“It’s on the 11 o’clock news. In fact, they’ve been using film of you and your house for the news promo for the last hour.”

“Great. Now I’m famous. What next? I’m on TV,” Robin said to her friends, shaking her head.

“Where are you going to stay? You can come up here if you like,” her mother said.

“No, thanks, Mom. Jane asked me to stay at her place. Jim’s here, too, he’s going to help tomorrow.”

“I’ll be down as soon as I can tomorrow.”

“No, Mom. It will be fine. You’ve been sick.”

“I’ve rested today and I should be well enough tomorrow. Andrew will bring me down after lunch. Unless you think you need me earlier —”

“After lunch will be fine,” Robin said with a sigh. “See you tomorrow. Bye, Mom.”

“Good,” Jane said. “You need your mother.” She grabbed Robin by the arm and led her up the street to Jim’s house. “I’ll go get my car and bring it around. Be right back.”

“You’ll be okay?” Jim said. “Stay with me.”

“I’m not going to sleep a wink. No, go ahead and I’ll go over Jane’s. She’s going to have me up half the night going over everything that’s happened. She’ll be no good in the classroom tomorrow. Well, I wouldn’t be; but who knows with Jane?”

“If you’re sure,” Jim hugged her. 

Robin felt herself caving into the huge emotions she’s been suppressing all day. She wasn’t ready to let it all out in front of Jim. It would be different with Jane; she had seen her this way before. She held onto Jim’s warmth and drank in his kindness and strength until she heard the putter of Jane’s little car.

“I gotta go,” she said, wiping a stray tear from her eye. She tried to turn but Jim caught her, kissed her wet cheek and kissed her again. “Tomorrow,” he said.

“Thanks, Jane,” Robin said as the car pulled away. 

“Here are the tissues,” Jane said, handing her a full box. “I can tell it’s coming. And I don’t blame you one little bit.”

Chapter 30

Jane’s guest room always felt like Robin’s home away from home. She’d spent a lot of time in this room since Jane moved to the city. After all the excitement of the past 48 hours Robin needed a familiar place. She remembered lots of the furnishings from Jane’s family’s home in Annapolis. The white painted bed. The knickknacks had rested on Robin’s dresser. The ballerina doll leaning against the pillow had been Robin’s, too. The two friends were in pictures all over the walls. As the night turned into a new day, Robin considered those pictures, remembering the events they represented. They’d been friends during so many important times: proms, graduations, funerals. Boyfriends and break-ups. They’d missed each other when they chose different colleges but now they were friends again. 

As the sun began to lighten the room’s pink walls, Robin finally gave herself over to sleep. Exhausted, angry and sad, she had found herself counting her blessings as dawn came. For her friends, for her family, for new chances.

“Robin?” Jane nudged her shoulder and placed a mug of coffee on the bedside table. “Robin. Thank goodness you did get some sleep.”

“Jane—I must have fallen asleep. I watched the sunrise and then...”

“It’s 7 o’clock. I just called my principal and got the day off. Lucky for you, I haven’t been absent even once this year. They’re calling in a substitute. I emailed my emergency lesson plans so now I can help you out.” Jane stopped and looked at her friend. 

“Tell you what. Go back to sleep for a little while. I’ll check back later and see how you’re doing.”

“No. No. I can’t sleep now. I’ll be fine. I’ve got to see the house,” Robin said, sitting up and wiping the hair from her eyes. “Oh no, I slept in my contacts.”

“I’ll get my drops,” Jane said. Gone only a few seconds, she also brought clean jeans and a sweatshirt. “I figured you wanted something fresher to wear — and maybe something that you don’t mind ruining. And that I won’t mind you ruining. Drink your coffee,” she added.

Robin gulped down the coffee and changed quickly. She was anxious to see the inside of her house. Really, she thought, she was a little frightened about what it would look like.

She laid her own clothes on the desk chair, picked up the coffee cup and walked downstairs. Jane was burning toast. “Want some?” she asked, scraping scorch marks from a crust. 

“Think I’ll pass,” she said. “Have more coffee?”

“Sure. Pour me some, too.”

“Almost ready to go?” Robin asked. 

“Soon as I’ve finished my breakfast,” Jane said, stuffing buttered bread in her mouth.

“Let’s go.”

The drive around the Inner Harbor from Canton to Federal Hill can be a long, nerve-wracking drive during morning rush hour and today was no exception. Road construction had already closed lanes on Lombard Street and impatient drivers were in no mood to accommodate cars in disappearing lanes. The commanding whistle of a traffic cop here and there eased things a bit. But Robin, feeling nausea building in her stomach, thought the drive was so much worse than usual. She looked up at Federal Hill when it appeared and wondered what she would find when they finally got over there.

The Bromo Seltzer Tower clock said it was only 7:25 but already it seemed like it had been a long day for Robin. A few blocks down Light Street and she was nearly home again. Nothing looked out of place. Shopkeepers were already sweeping the sidewalks outside their stores. The homeless man was sitting in a dirty doorway. Kids with backpacks were walking in twos and threes down the street to Federal Hill Elementary. The children wore shorts. They were expecting it to be another sunny May day.

When the two women turned onto Robin’s street, Robin saw the boarded up door and glanced up to the scorched Formstone to look at the hole in the roof. “I couldn’t see the roof last night,” she said. 

“Go on, you get out and I’ll find a parking space,” Jane said, stopping in front of the house.

Robin couldn’t tear her eyes off the house as she walked up the curb. She looked at the boarded door and sighed. And then remembered she’d have to walk around to the alley to get in the house.

She turned down the street past Jennifer’s house —she’d never forget her name again. At Jim’s door, she stopped and wondered whether it was still too early to knock.  Jim settled the argument by opening his door. “I was just on my way over.”

“I have to walk around back,” she said.

“I’ll go with you. Did you get any sleep? I have coffee. Do you need some?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said and he folded her thin fingers inside his big, warm hand. The block was short and the alley was quiet. Trash day, she thought, noticing all the metal cans lined up by the gates. 

As she came to her own gate, she looked up and gasped. The fire had been mostly at the back of the house. The roof was nearly gone. The brick walls were stained blacker in back. Her worries grew when she saw thick soot around the second story windows. 

“It’s so much worse than it looked in front,” she said. “I hate to go in.”

“Come on, babe. Let’s go,”

“Oh dear! What a mess,” Jane cried as she came up behind them. “Your poor roof.”

Robin unlocked the door and saw a kitchen that looked pretty much the same as when she left it. The ceiling had a few water stains on it but the dishes were still in the sink and the cereal box was still open on the counter.

Robin ran her hand across her grandmother’s old table. “Thank goodness, you’re okay,” she sighed.

She pushed open the kitchen door and felt her heart stop. Water covered the floor. The sofa sagged from the weight of the water. Her laptop was on the floor. In the water.

Her grandfather’s chair with the swan arms had been pushed on its side. Jim leaned over the right it and Robin saw that it hadn’t been damaged.

Then Robin saw something that stopped her in her tracks. Her sister’s photos. One was was still straight on the wall but the others were on the floor. They had obviously fallen and been pushed aside in the rush to get to the fire. The window scene was still intact. But Ellen’s pictures of the castle and the Austrian lake dripped water, the frames were broken and the glass cracked. The other two were missing altogether.

“Where are they?” she said, frantically looking around while she held the pieces of two of the photos.

“Here’s one,” Jim said, picking up a cracked picture frame that had slid under a chair. 

“And here’s the other,” Jane answered. Water already had stained the picture of the Salzburg streetscape. 

“Maybe they’ll dry,” she offered. “Let me take them in the kitchen.” She gathered the photos, carefully stacking them so they didn’t suffer any more damage and so the frames’ sharp edges didn’t hurt her. While she bustled into the kitchen, Robin swallowed and made her way up the stairs.

The steps themselves were nicked and two of the bannisters had been broken. Robin ran her hand along them to see if they could be glued back together.

At the top of the stairs, Robin turned into the front bedroom, her bedroom. The rug was soggy, the walls gray from the smoke. The windows were broken. The smell was acrid. 

“It looks okay, Robin,” Jim said.

“No, it might be all right,” she agreed.

The smell got worse as she continued down the hall. The tiny middle bedroom looked like it had been spared except for the smoky-smelling air. The walls were untouched and there wasn’t any water on the floor. The ceiling looked dry.

“Well, this is good,” she said.

“But this isn’t,” Jim said as a warning. He had moved to the back bedroom which was located under the spot where the roof was most seriously burned. 

Water dripped from the ceiling and soaked the bed. A bookshelf had fallen over and scattered books were swollen with water. 

“Oh, what a mess,” Robin said, stepping over the books to pick up a crocheted pillow her grandmother had made for her. It was black from flying ash. “Maybe I can save this,” she said. A breeze came through the broken window. 

“Maybe we should open all the windows,” Jim suggested. “Get the smell out.”

“It’ll take more than a spring breeze,” Robin said.

“Where do we start?”

“With a phone,” Jim said. “You need to call your insurance agent first. And then the fire clean-up people.”

“The numbers are in my computer, floating in water,” she moaned.

“Don’t you have a phone book?” 

“No, I don’t keep them around anymore.”

“I’ll go get mine. Did you call your boss?”

“No, too early yet. Well, I guess it isn’t anymore. I’ll call her while you get the phone book.”

Robin walked back to the front bedroom, still carrying the blackened pillow. As she passed the mirror, she noticed the black stain transferring to her sweatshirt from the pillow and threw it on the bed. 

She dialed her office number and left a message when no one answered. 

“I think the pictures will be fine,” Jane said, starting up the stairs. She met Robin in the middle. “The frames are history but the photos will be okay.”

“Thanks, Jane,” Robin said and sat on a step to survey the work that needed to be done.

“I guess we need to start with trash bags,” she said. 

“Here is the phone book,” Jim said as he returned. 

After Robin made an appointment with the insurance agent for later that afternoon and arranged for cleaning the next day, she found the trash bags.

The three of them wordlessly picked up broken trinkets that had gotten in the way of the heavy hoses and filled bag after bag. They hauled the sofa out the back door to let it dry in the sun. Robin knew it was going to the dump but as they carried the swan chair outside, she saw with relief that it was still in pretty good condition. 

By noon, all the curtains were down, soggy first floor carpets were stretched out on the back lawn, and six bags of trash were lined up by the gate. Jim had opened every window in the house.

Robin offered to let them rest while she walked down to the market for lunch.

“Please,” she said, when Jim offered to go. “I need to go.”

The walk to the Cross Street Market helped Robin get the smell of smoke out of her nose. Instead, she smelled the scent of roses blooming in backyards along her route.

She stopped at a new deli for paninis and grabbed a box of Berger cookies as she waited. She didn’t make it to Charles Street before tearing into the cookie box. As she walked along the route home, she felt comforted by the thick chocolate icing of the first cookie, and then the second. By the time she neared her house, she was well into her fourth. 

Her cell phone rang. She popped the last bite into her mouth as she looked to see who was calling. “Hi Mom. I bought lunch. Will you be here soon?”

“I just called to tell you I’m nearly there. I’m at the tunnel. Are you at the house?”

“In the backyard with Jim and Jane. Come around back.”

There was no answer. She must have driven into the tunnel, Robin thought as she reached the back gate. She pushed open the gate and saw there was company. Jane and Jim were enthralled by whatever their visitor was saying. Who was that? she wondered and answered her own question. Of course, she thought, that’s Jennifer. I wonder how her house is.

Robin saw a mix of emotions cross Jane’s face as she listened to the visitor. Instinctively, Robin froze as she realized something was wrong. She let go of the gate but couldn’t move.

As the gate clattered closed, the visitor turned around. Who gasped? It was hard to tell. Robin couldn’t tear her eyes from the woman who stood before her. That blonde ponytail wasn’t Jennifer’s but she knew it well. The worn jeans could have been the same ones she saw 15 years ago. The face, no, the face had definitely changed. The cheeks were gaunt and dark shadows encircled the eyes. But as those eyes met Robin’s, Robin felt her arms go numb. She was speechless. Her heart must have stopped beating. But her legs pushed her forward until she was face to face with Ellen.

“It’s you!” Ellen shouted and threw her arms around her little sister. “I finally found you!”

Robin wrapped her arms around Ellen and the lunch bag thudded into her back. Jane grabbed it away and she and Jim turned to go into the house.

The moments slipped away without a word between the two sisters. Robin didn’t know what to say or how she should feel. In truth, she was elated. 

Finally, Ellen laughed and pulled away. “Let me get a look at my little sister all grown up!”

“Wow, Rob, you look just like Dad.”

Robin laughed. “He always said I was the spitting image of Mom.”

“It’s so good to see you again. Finally. I looked for you everywhere,” Ellen said and sat down on the garden bench. 

“You looking for me? Don’t you know? You were dead! We’d given up hope,” Robin said and sat beside her. “When you didn’t come home...Where the hell have you been? Where did you go?”

Ellen sighed. Robin could tell she had a speech prepared for this moment.

“It’s a long story and not a very pretty one, I’m afraid,” she began, looking at her hands and twisting a ring. Robin looked at them too: red and rough with chewed nails and a silver ring on every finger. Then she looked up at Robin. “But it has turned out happy. At least I think so. And I’ve found you. Here, of all places. You know, I looked here a long time ago. It must have been after Grandmother died.”

The phone rang. Robin ignored it.

“So where the hell have you been? Where did you go?” Robin asked again. So many questions crowded into her mind. And they all needed answers right now. But this one was the most important: “Why did you leave us?”

Ellen ignored the hard question. “I’m living on the Eastern Shore. I have a son who’s really sick and a daughter — I think you met her at the aquarium.”

“Really!?” Robin tried to remember meeting a Samantha. “No, I think I’d remember a Samantha.”

“She goes by Robbi in school. No ‘e’,” Ellen said. “She thinks it’s much cooler than her first name. Anyway, she came home from a field trip one day last month with her knee all bandaged up. She told me about the lady who helped her out. I had the news on in the kitchen at breakfast this morning. When she saw the story about the fire, she said you looked like the same lady. She mentioned then that the lady had a picture of St. Michael’s in her office. I have the same picture in my kitchen, Robin. I hadn’t been paying attention to the news so I didn’t see you at first. But then there you were in front of Grandmother’s house and it was burning down.”

“Rob! The phone again,” Jane yelled out the door. “The insurance man is on his way. Do either one of you want one of these sandwiches? Before Jim eats them all?”

Ellen stood up. “I’m keeping you. You have so much to do. I’ve got to get back to the babysitter, anyway. She can’t keep Scott for too long anyway. I’ve got to go,” she said. “We’ll get together soon?”

“No, don’t go yet. Mom’s on her way,” Robin said. “I was just talking to her before she drove into the Harbor Tunnel. She should be here in 15 minutes, tops. She’s going to help me with the insurance and stuff. You have to stay. You can’t leave now. She’ll be heartbroken to have missed you.”

“Yes, well, I wish I could. Really. I can’t leave little Scott alone with the babysitter for too long,” Ellen said. She rooted around in her purse and drew out a pen and scrap of paper. “So we don’t lose track again,” she said as she scribbled. “Here’s my phone number. My name’s Ewing now. Well, it isn’t really but that’s the name I go by. It’s my, er, husband’s name.”

Then Ellen put her hand in her pocket. She pulled out two tiny charms. “They’re edelweiss,” she said. “I bought them for you and Mom in Salzburg. I’ve carried them everywhere. See? I planned to come home all along. Here’s yours,” she said. “Mom’s is a little different. Would you give it to her?”

“No, El, give it to her yourself,” Robin argued.

But Ellen shook her head. “No,” she said. “You give it to her. I want her to have it now. I want her to know I planned to come home and .... I’ll come and see you soon.” She squeezed her sister’s shoulder and turned to go.

“Robin!” Jane called again from the kitchen. “It’s that Debbie person. You were supposed to meet her today?”

“Oh no. I forgot. Tell her about the fire. Tell her I found what I was looking for,” Robin said, watching her sister walk away.

Chapter 31

Robin fingered the scrap of paper her sister had handed to her. As she heard Jane opening the back door again, she stuffed the paper deep in her pocket and turned around.

“Where’s Ellen?” Jane asked.

“She had to go,” Robin said simply.

“Had to go!? Just like that? She didn’t even wait to see your mother?”

“Yeah. She said she had to get home to her little boy. I asked her to stay but she said she couldn’t wait.”

Jane was clearly unable to understand. “Why did you let her go without a fight? You’ve looked for her for so long and she’s gone in, like, fifteen minutes. She just got here,”

Robin pulled out the paper to show her friend. “I had to let her go. But it’s okay because now I know where to find her.”

“But your mother...Oh, hi, Miss Diane.”

Diane, armed with bucket, mop and cleaners, was letting herself in the yard. 

“Hello, girls. Oh, Robin, the house! What a mess!”

“It’s not too bad...” Robin began.

“Robin...tell her,” Jane said.

“Tell me what?”

Jane impatiently waited for Robin to tell Diane the news.

“Ellen was here. You just missed her.”

Diane dropped her bucket and turned her gaze from the roof to her daughter. Robin wasn’t sure her mother understood at first. Diane stood motionless for a moment. Then she blinked and repeated what Robin said.

“Ellen was here. I just missed her. I just missed her? Robin, Ellen was here?”

If Robin expected a cry of jubilation from her mother, she was disappointed. Diane seemed shocked, maybe dismayed, by the news. Maybe it was just finding out she’d missed a chance to see her daughter. Of course, that was it.

“I’ve got her phone number and we’ll get together with her. She said she could only stop for a few minutes. She had to get back home.”

“She left this for you.” Robin handed her mother the tiny silver edelweiss charm. “She told me to tell you she planned to come home when she bought this in Salzburg and promised to see us again soon.”

“Here take it,” Robin said, pushing the charm at her mother. 

Diane reluctantly put her hand out and looked at the silvery flower Robin had placed there. Robin thought for a moment that her mother might cry.

Instead, Diane took a deep breath, tucked the charm in her jeans pocket and said, “I guess now isn’t the appropriate time for housecleaning is it?”

Robin laughed and kissed her mother’s cheek. “No, I’d say a celebration is in order — even with a hole in my roof!”

Chapter 32

The afternoon — which should have been mournful after the fire — did indeed turn into a party. Even if the guest of honor couldn’t stay for it, Robin, her mother and her friends celebrated Ellen’s return. In between visits from the insurance adjuster, a handyman and the fire inspector, Robin filled glasses and passed around the box of cookies. When the soda ran dry, she found a bottle of Champagne still cold in her refrigerator. Jennifer appeared with a bakery box filled with brownies; Jim retrieved pretzels and nuts from his own kitchen. The acrid smell of smoke reminded them once in a while of the damage above them but  Robin dismissed it, still excited by her sister’s reappearance.

The good feelings lasted throughout the sunny afternoon as curious neighbors arrived to see what had happened and how Robin was. She found herself unable to feel bad. In spite of the bags filled with her damaged belongings, in spite of the soggy couch she knew she would have to throw out, in spite of the gaping hole in her roof that was now covered with a bright blue tarp, Robin still felt the thrill of seeing her sister.

As the dinner hour approached and the number of visitors dwindled, Diane rose to leave. “I must get home. I promised Andrew to be home by dinner. He’ll want to hear all the news, too.”

Robin walked with her mother around the block to her car. She hugged her mother and made her promise they’d get together with Ellen within the week.

“Of course, dear, I want to see her very soon, too,” Diane replied.

As she watched Diane drive away, she felt Jim’s arms wrap around her shoulders. “Well? Some day wasn’t it?”

Robin turned around. “You are so right.”

“Robin,” Jane interrupted the tender scene. “I’ve got to get back home. I have school tomorrow. Are you coming with me?”

“Yes,” she said, looking up at Jim.

“Stay with me,” he whispered. Before she could turn him down, he asked another question. “How about dinner first? Then I’ll drive you over to Jane’s.” 

“I know when I’m not wanted,” Jane said. “Don’t rush home. I’ll leave the light on for you.”

“Thanks, Jane. See you at your place in a little while.”

Chapter 33

It was still early when Jim walked Robin to Jane’s front door. “I’m sorry I ran out of steam,” she said. “It’s been a hell of a day....”

“I understand,” Jim said, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Are you going to work?”

“I had better. Rebuilding my house is going to be expensive.”

“Then I’ll call you at work. Pick you up for dinner then?”

“Yes,” she said, grateful for his sensitivity. “I promise to be hungry.”

She kissed Jim good-night and rang the doorbell.

“You already?” Jane asked.

“Well, I like that,” Robin asked.

“I just didn’t think I’d see you for hours.”

“Wouldn’t you know it? The minute we sat down, I crashed. I couldn’t make it past the first glass of wine. I came home to go to bed. I’m just exhausted.”

“Well, head off to bed, then. Call me if you need anything.”

“Well, I could use some clothes for work tomorrow. I haven’t washed mine yet. I guess I should have thought of that today.”

“I’ll be right up and we’ll see what I have that you’ll like.”

Robin trudged up the steps to the bathroom. Her hands still smelled smoky to her so she washed them carefully.

She was still holding the towel in her hand when a terrible thought crashed into her head.

My mother knew, she said, strangling the towel. She knew all along. She knew Ellen wasn’t dead. I wonder if she knew where Ellen was.

Robin was still standing in the middle of the bathroom holding the towel when Jane appeared.

“Jane!” Robin said.

“What’s up?” 

“Jane. My mother knew. She knew. She knew, Jane. She knew.”

“Robin. Calm down. Your mother knew what?” Jane took her friend by the hand and led her to the guest room and helped her sit in the antique rocker. Jane took the rumpled towel from Robin’s hands and sat down on the bed across from her.

“Now tell me. What did your mother know?”

“My mother knew. She has known all along. She kept it from me. How, Jane? How could she do that?”

Robin ran her hands through her hair and turned to look out the window at the alley below.

“Robin,” Jane said gently. “Robin.”

Robin turned to her and felt tears welling in the corners of her eyes. The tears were hot. They hurt as she struggled to keep them back. “Tell me what’s wrong,” Jane asked her.

“Oh, Jane, I think my mother knew Eleanor wasn’t dead. She knew Eleanor had gone off and was living somewhere else. She kept it a secret from me. All this time. All these years. She never told me. She let me go on wondering about Ellen. She let me look for her.”

“Hon, you don’t know that, really, do you? Your mother wouldn’t do that to you. She just wouldn’t,” Jane tried to reason with Robin.

“No, I really don’t know, I guess, but suddenly it all makes sense. Everything makes sense now. It didn’t before. I couldn’t figure out how Ellen could disappear and then come back and we never knew. I never knew until February. Until only a few months ago. But I think my mother knew.”

“Robin. Calm down. You aren’t making sense. What makes you think your mother knew Ellen was still alive? Do you think she knew all about what she’s been doing all this time?”

“It’s just a feeling but all of the sudden I thought it. Why did she want me to stop looking for Ellen? What was it with the nightmares? Why didn’t she have Ellen’s social security number for the private detective? Why didn’t Ellen wait to see Mom when they haven’t seen each other in 15 years? And Mom! She was just weird, she didn’t look as excited as I thought she would. It was just weird.”

“Then call her and talk to her.”

“No,” Robin said and stood up. “I’m going to see her. I’m going to ask her to her face. I can’t believe  I never thought of this before. Jane, will you come with me?”

“As tired and crazy as you are, you shouldn’t be going,” Jane argued.

“I’m going. Are you?”

Jane sighed. “I’d better. The roads won’t be safe if you’re driving. Let me put on something besides my pajamas.”

Chapter 34

I-95 was quiet for the end of a holiday weekend. For I-95, that is. Trucks barreled past and plenty of state troopers were out stopping speeding mini-vans. Robin said nothing once they got onto the highway. Exhaustion finally got hold of her and she fell asleep. Jane tuned into a local college’s jazz station to keep her company. The sun was beginning to set as Jane turned onto Route 40 for the last leg of the 45 minute trip. Robin awoke and straightened up. She rubbed her eyes. “Damn,” she said, “I fell asleep in my contacts again.”

“I have drops in my purse,” Jane said.

“Are you sure you still want to go to Havre de Grace?” she asked as Robin dropped the solution into her eyes.

“I have to. I just have to.”

As they pulled up to the house, Diane was sitting on the porch with Andrew. She rose from the chaise longue when she saw Robin climb out of Jane’s little car. Jane stayed inside the car and out of the way.

“I have to talk to you, Mother,” Robin said. She strode up to the porch. “Hi, Andrew.”

Andrew stood to greet her and offer her his seat. “Is that Jane with you? I’ll go say hello.”

“Robin, whatever is the matter?” Diane said as she returned to her chair.

Robin didn’t sit down. She clenched the porch railing for support and asked: “How long have you known Ellen was alive?”

“What?!”

“Mother, you knew, didn’t you? You’ve kept it from me all this time. Haven’t you?”

Diane looked as if she was going to deny it but then she nodded. Slowly and with pain in her eyes, she nodded. “Yes, I knew. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time but I didn’t know how. I kept thinking you were going to find out on your own anyway so I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

“How could you? How could you keep a secret like that from me? How could you?” Robin released the railing and slid onto the porch step. She leaned against the railing, suddenly very weak and tired.

Diane sat beside her. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. Certainly not for all this time. But once I let you believe Eleanor was gone, how could I bring her back? I’m glad you know now.”

“Glad.... You killed my sister 15 years ago. You led me to believe she was dead! Then Dad died and Grandmother died and you moved away. And I’ve been missing all of then — all of you — for so long. When I could have had my sister!”

“Robin, don’t be so melodramatic. You were a child when she disappeared. We all thought she had died. Your poor father never knew she was alive.”

“You lied to Dad, too?”

“No, not Dad. I didn’t hear from Ellen until after he died.”

“You heard from Ellen? You heard from Ellen!”

“Yes I have the letter she sent. Come with me. I’ll show it to you.”

Diane held open the screen door for her daughter and she led her up to her bedroom. She pulled open her top dresser drawer and pushed aside the scarves and handkerchiefs to retrieve a battered pink stationery box.

“Sit down over there and I’ll show you,” Diane said.

Robin sat on the tiny slipper chair she had used — was it just yesterday?

“This letter was forwarded to me right after I moved here. Ellen sent it to our house in Annapolis,” Diane said, slipping a single sheet out of an envelope covered with stamps and post office markings. She looked at Robin, tears in her eyes, but Robin looked only at the letter.

It said,

“Dear Mom and Dad and Robin,

“I’m sorry it has taken me so long to write again. Finally, I have an address of my own. Sean and I have arrived in the Outback and have a post office box in Alice Springs so we can get mail again. I hope to hear from you soon...”

Robin looked up. “There were other letters?”

“I didn’t get any other letters before this one,” her mother answered.

“And after?”

“No, I didn’t get any more,” she said, opening the box again. “But you did. Three of them.”

“They’re unopened. You kept them from me but you didn’t even open them?”

“No, I had told Ellen I’d have nothing more to do with her when I wrote back. I didn’t even give her my new address. These three arrived before the post office stopped forwarding our mail. I don’t know if she sent others.”

Robin looked at the three envelopes in her hands. One looked like a card so she opened that first. And it was a card, a card for her 16th birthday. Funny, Robin thought, she didn’t even remember her 16th birthday. An important birthday and one Ellen had remembered from a place called Alice Springs. And then she recalled that day. It had been the one-year anniversary of the day they got the news Ellen had disappeared. No wonder she didn’t remember it as her birthday. Yes, she remembered the day. A quiet, somber day. Robin opened the card and read the note. “She was pregnant when she wrote the note, Mom. And you didn’t even know.”

“No,” Diane took the card when Robin offered it. “That couldn’t have been her daughter...she must have lost it.”

“She may have needed you,” Robin said, accusingly. She picked up the heavy envelope and slit it open. Inside were photos from Australia: strange rocks and wide expanses of golden grasses and bent trees. A letter inside announced that these photos were going to be published in a travel magazine in South Africa. The photos fell to the floor as Robin slit open the last envelope. It was a plea from her sister to write to her. “I’m so lonely here when Sean is out on assignment,” Ellen had written. “I miss you all. I miss home. I do love it here and I love what I’m doing and don’t regret what I did. Ever. (Ever was underlined.) But I’d love to hear from you when you have a moment to write.”

“I could have written. I could’ve visited her.”

Diane shook her head. “No. It simply wasn’t possible. What your sister did — leaving us all for a strange man to go halfway around the world — no, she was wrong. I had to protect you. I couldn’t let you know what had happened. I had to protect you.”

“From what?” Robin was clearly puzzled by what her mother had said. 

“The scandal of what she did,” her mother said quietly. “You were just a child. You couldn’t understand that what she was doing was wrong. She left everything. She left us. She gave us all up for some man we didn’t know and would never know.”

Robin didn’t understand what the big deal was. There was no murder involved, no kidnapping or robbery or any other crime. But she sensed that her sister’s actions had caused her family pain. She looked at her mother who still held that first letter in her hands. No, she thought. Her mother caused her own pain and she’d hurt and betrayed the whole family in the process; especially me.

Robin felt the anger return hot to her cheeks. She gathered the letters and stood up.

“I can’t believe you did this to me,” she said to her mother. Without another word, she left. 

“Good night, Andrew,” she said to her mother’s husband who stood by the curb talking to Jane.

“Let’s go, Jane,” she said. Robin got into the car and sat looking straight ahead. She didn’t see the quizzical look Andrew gave her. She didn’t see her mother come to the door to ask her to come back inside. She absentmindedly stroked the letters on her lap as Jane turned the car back toward Baltimore.

“She knew, Jane,” Robin said finally. 

“What did she say?”

As they dodged more mini-vans and tractor-trailers along I-95, Robin told her friend about the letters, about her mother’s strange reasoning for keeping the truth from Robin. 

“You were an impressionable young girl,” Jane said, trying to understand and trying to help her friend understand. “You know how strait-laced your mother could be. She liked things to be her way; she hated it when Ellen questioned. This must have been a nightmare for your mother.”

“It’s no excuse. I trusted her. She’s my mother; I’m supposed to trust her.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Robin,” Jane said. “It’ll be all right. After all, you finally did find your sister. That’s important.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“You don’t have to understand your mother. You don’t have to forgive your mother.”

“And I can’t,” Robin interrupted.

“I know,” Jane said quietly. “But some day you’ll need your mother. I wish I still had mine to talk to.”

“Well, you’re probably right but right now, I’m so mad.”

“Fine. Be mad. Have you got the toll?”

“Sure,” Robin reached into her pocket to pull out two crumpled dollar bills. A tiny silver charm slipped from between the bills. Robin caught it before it slid to the floor.

“Have you got the two dollars?” Jane asked. “What are you looking at?”

“Here,” Robin said, passing her the cash. “This is a charm my sister brought back from Austria.” She unlatched the clasp of the necklace she was wearing and slid the charm onto the chain. She sighed. 

“What a weekend. I lost my house. Found my sister. Fought with my mother,” Robin said.

“So what do you want to do tomorrow?”

Robin hung the charm around her neck. “Something else.”

Epilogue

Things don’t always turn out the way you hope they will. Sometimes they do. That weekend, after Robin’s house caught on fire, I was sure she was about to marry Jim. Just a feeling I had. But I was wrong.

Just as Jim had planned, he moved back to Charleston a few weeks after Memorial Day weekend to go to work for his father. Then his father had a heart attack and stopped working sooner than he had expected. We saw Jim only a few times before he decided he needed to stay close. Of course, falling in love with his office manager wasn’t part of the original plan either. 

You know it’s funny, but I don’t think Robin cared too much. That may be oversimplifying it. I’m sure she missed him, probably a lot. He was a great guy. Yet, all of a sudden, she had a whole lot of new people in her life and all the stuff with her house to deal with. Yeah, she probably missed Jim, but she, well, in the end she just let him go. I can understand that. He was way too nice. Who needs that?

One thing troubles Robin and it shocked the hell out of me. Robin and Ellen really haven’t seen each other too much. If Ellen has told her side of the story, Robin hasn’t told me about it. All I know is Ellen is married, well not really married since she never divorced Sean, to a farmer somewhere over the Bay Bridge. Ben is his name; they named their son Scott after Mr. Browne. I don’t know what’s wrong with the little boy. He’s about seven and bedridden. Ellen can hardly get away from him. 

Robin told me Ellen is happy — even if she’s pretty much homebound. She spent enough time wandering the world, I guess. She likes the farm work. She’s proud of her daughter and adores their little boy.  

Robin’s mom took Ellen’s return pretty hard at first — it didn’t help that Robin was so mad at her. But Ellen needed her mother and her children needed their grandmother. And Miss Diane was thrilled to find a place in their lives. She was thrilled to have grandchildren and she wanted to get to know them. She even started looking for a little house on Kent Island, one in a neighborhood with a marina. Robin says she already got a little boat so she can take the children sailing. Miss Diane always was pretty resilient.

Robin hasn’t forgiven her mother yet. Not yet but I’m sure one day she will. Robin isn’t one to hold grudges. And Miss Diane calls her every week trying to rebuild those bridges. Robin listens for a few minutes and then makes up some excuse to get off the phone. That’s been hard on both of them, I think. One day it will be okay again.

Summer was a busy time for Robin anyway. She spent long days at the aquarium only to come home to see what progress had been made on the house. It turned out that the house needed lots of work after the fire: new wiring, new roof, new walls, new floors. When it was all done, the house gleamed. It was perfect. I even helped Robin pick out new furniture. Except for her grandfather’s chair and the kitchen table. They were refinished and put back in their regular spots. But the rest of the house was brand new.

So what did Robin do? She sold the house. She told me she couldn’t stand reliving all the memories there. It was in the hands of new owners right after Labor Day, the same day she put a down payment on a condo overlooking Inner Harbor East. 

No more Formstone and exposed brick. This new place shines with stainless steel and glass and concrete. Robin brought only two pieces of furniture from the old house. She put the old table in her new dining room and the rocking chair with the swan arms got a place of honor in the living room. Ellen’s pictures hang in her little study. There’s a big picture window in the living room with a beautiful view of Federal Hill but I don’t think Robin looks that way too often.

Then last week, Robin called to tell me she was going on a trip. She promised to be back by New Year’s. She told me she was going alone. She’d put her life on hold for long enough. She had decided she wanted to see the world. It sounded like a good idea to me. I asked if she planned to go to the places in Eleanor’s pictures. No, she said. She didn’t think she wanted to see them for herself. Not Austria. Not Australia. Someday, maybe she’d go there. This time she was going to France, Scandinavia and Thailand. Why those countries. She wanted to see something for herself, places no one she knew had seen. She picked those.

Before she left, Robin gave me her cell phone number and promised to answer it anywhere in the world. The phone company had told her the phone would get good reception everywhere. And Robin said she would take her new laptop and keep in touch. Besides, she added, she had counted on Google so much over the years, she had to take Google maps with her. This way Robin knew she’d never get lost.

THE END