RaeAnne Thayne - Wild Iris Ridge

“I agree.” She smiled. “Do you want the chair or the bed for reading?”

“I’ll take the bed.” Faith settled in, hands clasped on her chest expectantly.

Lucy settled into the recliner—which was, indeed, comfortable—and proceeded to read a chapter from the book about an orphaned girl trying to make her way in her new home.

“I think that’s enough,” she finally said, though she would have read all night if she could, she was enjoying it so much.

“Anne is so funny,” Faith declared.

“She is,” Lucy responded.

The girl was quiet as Lucy rose from the recliner, laid the book on her bedside table and tucked in her quilt a little more snugly around her.

“I wonder how her mom died,” Faith finally asked, her voice low.

This poor little child, who had lost her own mother too young. Lucy wanted to cry suddenly that Jess would never have the chance to know the funny, sweet, courageous girl her daughter was becoming.

“If I recall from reading the series all those years ago, she was only a baby when both of her parents died of an illness.”

“That would have been easier,” Faith said, her voice solemn. “She probably didn’t know them enough to miss them.”

“Oh, honey.”

She reached down to the bed and hugged Faith, wondering if the girl was open with her father about her grief or if she tried to protect him from it, as appeared to be her nature.

“It’s normal to miss your mom,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “You know that, right? Some part of you will always have a little hole. My mom died almost twenty years ago, and I still miss her.”

Despite her emotional and psychological issues, Betsy had still been her mother. Lucy knew she probably missed what she wished she had in a mother more than the actual person, but the loss was no less acute.

“More than anything,” she went on to Faith, “I wish that I could patch that hole for you and take away your sadness. But that would also mean taking away all your wonderful memories of your mom, and I would never, ever want to do that. You’re sad because you miss her. I miss her, too. Your dad and Carter do, too.”

“I know,” Faith said, her voice small. “I miss her so much sometimes. Carter doesn’t remember her much. He was only three. I do, though.”

“He’ll remember her most through the memories you and your dad share with him about her.”

“Sometimes I’m mad at her, too,” Faith said in a rush, as if the confession had been churning inside her for some time, just waiting for a chance to slip out.

Lucy was almost positive Faith hadn’t shared this with her father. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the girl’s hand into hers. “That’s normal, too, honey.”

“Why did she even need another baby? She had me and Carter. She would still be here if she hadn’t decided to have another baby.”

Just how much did Faith know about the circumstances around Jessie’s death? Lucy chose her words carefully. “Your mom used to tell me when we were girls that she wanted a half-dozen kids, just like the Brady Bunch. Three boys and three girls. She loved your dad’s big family and wanted one, too. It’s not that you weren’t enough for her, honey. She just had so much love in her heart and knew another baby would make that love grow even more.”

“It didn’t, though.”

Lucy sighed. “She didn’t know she had a problem with her heart. None of the doctors even knew. She spent all her life with it and had you and Carter and it never gave her any trouble. She had no reason to think having the new baby would be any different from having you or your brother.”

She hugged Faith, feeling the slenderness of her bones beneath her nightgown. “You know she would never have chosen to leave you, right?”

Faith sniffled a little but didn’t cry. “I guess.”

“You were her sunshine. Always. I know it hurts not having her here, but the best thing you can do is think about all the good you still have. Your dad, Carter, your grandpa Caine and all your aunts and uncles and cousins.”

“You.”

The tears she had been fighting ever since Faith first asked her about Anne Shirley’s mother welled up, and she had to swallow hard against the emotion in her throat. “Me. Yes. Always.”

“I know. I know I have all that. Sometimes I just get a little sad.”

“Nothing wrong with that. The sad times in our lives help us appreciate those moments of beauty and joy.” She rose. “You need to try to sleep now. You’ve got school tomorrow, and your dad won’t be very happy with me if he finds us still up gabbing when he gets back. If you want, I can read here in your comfortable chair while you fall asleep.”

“No. I’ll be okay.” She smiled sleepily. “I’m really glad you’re here, Aunt Lucy.”

She kissed the top of the girl’s wispy blond hair. “I am, too, darling.”

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