had left. She hadn’t found any of those things and had frequently questioned her own sanity while sorting through and disposing of the mess. She didn’t want to say such a thing quite yet, though.
She knew that if Maureen felt free to ask why she’d stayed, Lisa could ask why her mother had left. She didn’t want to hear the answer tonight, though. She’d had enough.
Dinner conversation was awkward. Lisa knew it was because the only things they had in common were the unlivable home in which they’d grown up and the two people whose lives could best be described as dysfunctional.
As they were finishing their meal, Lisa made them each a cup of tea. Maureen took a sip, then played with the handle of the cup. She jerked in a deep breath and said, “Dinner was delicious. Thank you. I guess you want to know why I’m here.”
“Yes, I’d like to know. I mean, if you want to talk about it.” Lisa lifted her hands helplessly. “I’ve only seen you a few times. This past hour has been the longest conversation we’ve ever had.”
“I know.” Maureen looked down at her hands, which Lisa could see were scarred and work-worn. “Did you ever read a poem by Robert Frost that has a line in it about home being where they have to take you in when you go there?”
“Well, yes. I studied American literature. It’s called ‘Death of the Hired Man.’” Lisa drew in a sharp breath. “Maureen, are you dying?”
Horror flooded Maureen’s face. “No, no. I’m sorry. I would never burden you with that. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m saying this all wrong. I’m not dying, but I’ve been sick with an antibiotic-resistant infection. Even though I had health insurance, the hospital bills and treatments wiped out most of my savings. I lost my job and my apartment. I had to get away from the weather in Illinois, so I thought I’d come here.” Shame filled her face. “I know it’s a lot to ask. You probably think I’ve got a lot of nerve.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Lisa admitted. Her brain and her emotions were on overload. She desperately wanted to go to bed and pull the covers over her head. She could see that Maureen was as exhausted as she was, her eyes drooping and her face set in grim lines.
“When I drove up tonight, I planned to ask the new owners of this place if they knew where you lived, but then you came home—”
“And...you want to stay?”
“Only a little while, until I can find a job, get back on my feet.” She gave Lisa a desperate look. “I promise it’ll only be for a little while.”
Through the swirl of her emotions, she mostly felt curious. “Why, after all these years?”
“Several reasons, but mostly unresolved history, and I decided I had to return to my hometown and quit being a coward. When I...ran away, I went to Aunt Violet in Chicago.”
“Yes, Grandma told me.”
“Before she died, she told me I had to come here, make things right, or I would never have peace.” She tilted her head and gave another little shrug.
With a start, Lisa remembered that her grandfather had made exactly that gesture. Lisa’s heart ached. She had been dealing with her own problems all day, but she knew this woman had a much bigger one. Lisa might be expecting a baby that would change her life in ways she couldn’t yet imagine, but she had security, friends and her own business. Maureen had nothing except a daughter she barely knew—and consequences for actions she’d taken thirty-three years ago.
Lisa wanted to know more, much more, about Maureen’s motivations, reasons, life, but she couldn’t handle one more thing tonight.
In her mind Lisa could hear Gemma and Carly warning her to be careful, that it might all be a scam, but she met Maureen’s hesitant gaze and said, “Of course you can stay. You can have my old room—your old room, or the smallest bedroom, whichever one you want.”
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