Mansfield Ranch (The Jane Austen Diaries)

  Harrison

  I admit it. I cried. I don’t even know why that dumb message made me cry, but it did. When the buzzer rang for the brownies, I went to the kitchen and pulled them out. After dessert, we cleaned up and got the kids ready for bed. When I came back to my room, I read the note again.

  And cried again.

  I held my pillow and wished myself back in Bloomfield, back home where I belonged. Not here. As much fun as it was to be a babysitter to my cousins, my grandmother rarely had any time to talk to me. And my uncle usually came home wasted. It’s the truth—I’d rarely seen him sober. And when he was, he was usually watching TV or asleep on the couch.

  So, it was just me and the kids all day long.

  Was I so desperate for a friend that I even missed Harrison? Could I honestly have slipped so far into this other world that I’d forgotten how annoying he was?

  I pushed the laptop away and shut it. No use letting anything he wrote get to me. I was only wishing I was closer to home—that was all.

  The next day, however, proved me wrong.

  I received another message, this time really from Julia.

  Hi Lilly,

  I just saw this note from Harrison, and while I’m amazed he wrote you from my account, I guess I’m not surprised you didn’t write him back, which is fine—you don’t have to. But I can vouch for everything he said. He has changed. Drastically. It’s like he’s a whole new guy. He hardly goes out much, he’s no longer loud and obnoxious, and as for your sisters—he’s in the musical, but behaves himself. He’s not all flirty and charming like he normally is.

  I don’t know what he did to you to make you leave, or what you feel about him, but I can honestly say my brother is not the same person you once knew. And he does miss you a lot. You’re all he talks about.

  I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I thought you should know the truth. Anyway, I hope you’re having a blast. Happy Thanksgiving tomorrow! We’ll be eating over at the Benallys’ and I’ll be sure to tell them you said hi. I’ve got to run to school and I won’t be home until late. I’m helping Lauren and Sean make pies. May the force be with us! Lol! I know the whole kitchen will be a huge mess by the time we’re done. None of us have the smallest clue what we’re doing, but we’ll sure have fun doing it! Lol!

  Wish you were here!

  Julia

  I sighed as I closed out of Facebook and walked into the kitchen. Speaking of messes …

  After about twenty minutes, the sink had been saved from that morning’s breakfast attack. It’s incredible what a bunch of kids can do to a perfectly good kitchen in just a few minutes. I turned on a movie for George and Nascha and decided to begin baking a couple of pies for tomorrow. I had always made them for the Benally Thanksgiving. I grinned as I put the shortening, flour, salt, and a pinch of baking soda into a bowl. Grabbing a fork, I began to mash it up until it looked crumbled, and then I carefully added the water and began to mash again until it resembled proper dough. As I rolled it out into circles, I imagined Sean covered in flour and chuckled to myself.

  How fun it would be to make pies with him. I folded and tucked the dough into a pie plate and then opened up two cans of cherry pie filling. Once they were in the bottom shell, I placed the top on and began to pinch all around the edges to seal it. Then I poked holes with my fork, forming a heart in the top to allow it to vent.

  It was pretty.

  I frowned. I should be so happy doing this for my family. I placed it in the oven and turned it on, adjusting the temperature and time to make up for it not being preheated. After I made a pumpkin pie and cleaned up, I wandered into the living room and sat down on a couch. Lifting Nascha off the floor, I cuddled her against me and sighed again.

  This was my family. This was who I was supposed to spend Thanksgiving with.

  So why in the world was I wishing I was somewhere else?

  Chapter 20: Truth Be Told

  It wasn’t until a couple of days after Christmas that I was finally able to get my grandmother to open up about my mom. We were sitting in the living room, the older two girls were softly arguing over their new toys as they attempted to play together, and Grandmother and I were sipping cocoa while watching a sappy romance on TV. In one scene, a girl hugged her mother and apologized for all the trauma she’d put her through over the years.

  I figured it was now or never to find out about my past. Turning toward Grandmother, I finally asked the words that had been plaguing me my whole life. “Where is my mom? What happened to her?”

  Grandmother looked at me a moment and then quickly looked away. I noticed a slash of pain shoot through her brow as she winced and took a sip of cocoa.

  I waited. She had to talk to me. I was too determined to be pushed aside—I had to know.

  In the silence, I think she was hoping I’d forgotten, but I hadn’t. She glanced back at me and saw me still staring. With a sigh, she asked, “Why?”

  I felt like I’d been slapped. I refused to answer that question. Why did she think? Why would someone want to understand who they were and who their mother was?

  My hurt must have shown on my face because she nodded and said, “I’m sorry. It’s not something I’m comfortable talking about, so forgive me.”

  I took a sip. Comfortable or not, she would discuss this with me. Neither of us could hide from the facts forever. “Tell me, please.”

  “You might not like me much after I do.”

  I shrugged. “Then we’ll face it. Until then, where is your daughter? Will I ever see her?”

  Grandmother shook her head and looked away again, her eyes misting up. “No. At least, not in this life.”

  The force of finally knowing my mom was dead hit me hard. I gasped and choked a bit. I set the mug down and brought my knees up to my chin, turning all the way to face my grandmother.

  “We should leave it at that. She’s passed on, and that’s good enough for either of us.”

  “No.” My gaze met hers. “I want to know everything. How did she die? Where is my father?”

  Grandmother began to cry. All of a sudden, her hand shook too much to hold the mug. It clattered noisily as she set it on the end table by her elbow. She buried her face in her hands, and I watched a few wispy gray hairs escape from her neat ponytail.

  I reached over and gently patted a shoulder. “Grandmother, you have to tell me.”

  “I know,” came the muffled reply. “I knew this day would come. I just wish I could change the past, but I can’t.” She popped her head up and wiped her eyes and cheeks. With a deep breath, she attempted a smile. “Okay. I’ll be brave and we’ll get through this together.”

  She reached out her hand on the back of the couch and I clutched it. She seemed to like that. “We are family, you and I. We will always be of the same cloth. However, your mother never wanted to be a part of this family. She wanted out. When she was a teenager, in the nineties, she ran away several times. Always into the worst things—harmful substances, alcohol, smoking, drugs—it was a horrific life. Eventually that life killed her.”

  I nodded. I had always wondered as much. Without saying a word, I squeezed her hand, encouraging her to continue.

  “When she got pregnant, she couldn’t afford an abortion, though she wanted one. They weren’t free, like they are now. However, after a few weeks of frustration, your mom finally pulled through. I convinced her to have the baby if I put it up for adoption.

  “Her one act of wisdom was that she quit everything cold turkey while she was pregnant with you. She refused to give her baby a hard life just because she’d chosen one for herself. And she wanted you as perfect as possible.”

  “Wow. That must have been so difficult.”

  “It wasn’t easy for her. She had strong addictions to just about everything, but she wasn’t willing to accept anything but the best for you.”

  I was quiet for a few moments and then asked, “So, how did she die?”

  Grandmother’s eyes welled up with tears
that she quickly blinked away. “She’d given up long before she passed. There was nothing anyone could do. She was constantly in a deep depression and eventually overdosed. The last time I knew her—as the child I’d once held and played with—was when she was pregnant with you. Sober and alive and nearly smiling. She died just before your tenth birthday and I sort of lost it then. Your two oldest cousins, the girls, were just babies at the time. So I took off work and held them and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I felt like such a failure, like I couldn’t even keep my own daughter alive and happy. How in the world would I be able to help my son’s kids too?” She sighed shakily and wiped at her tears.

  “I quit work the next day. Your uncle was in prison for shoplifting and I didn’t want the girls to go through life like their aunt. I wanted them to know they were loved. It wasn’t until recently, after taking in George and Nelvin, that I realized it was time to go back to work to earn enough for this brood.”

  “Is that when you began to look for me?”

  She nodded. “It’s when I found out where you were. However, I didn’t have the heart to remove you from such a nice place. It wasn’t until the children became too much for me to handle and the house a walking nightmare that I finally caved in and asked if you’d like to come and live with me. I needed help. A lot of help. And my son isn’t capable of anything except sleeping.” She began to cry again. “Thank you. Thank you for coming. Ever since you got here, this whole place has brightened up. Food is ready, the house is clean, the children are happy. You’re a godsend, little one. You just are. So thank you.”

  Wow. It was the first time my grandmother had told me how big of a help I was. It was the first time any parental figure had acknowledged what I’d done. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad I could help.”

  She squeezed my hand, her features turning serious. “Now tell me honestly—how badly do you miss your old home?”

  “Not very much.”

  “Lilly.” She looked me straight in the eye. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid. It kills you to live here, doesn’t it?”

  I gave up. “Yes.”

  “You had a life, you had friends, you had a family.”

  I shook my head. “No, not really. Yes to all of those things, I suppose. But it’s the hope of them I miss more than anything.”

  “You love them.”

  “Yes. I love them. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t really fit in, but I love them and I do miss it tremendously. I miss so much about that life.”

  “Tell me about it. What was your day like?”

  I grinned and then told her all about everything. About Princess Buttercup and riding for hours out on the property, about Sean, about Lauren and Alexis, about Mr. and Mrs. Benally, school, Harrison, Julia . . . all of it. I told her my struggles, but also what I loved most about it. It wasn’t long before she was able to fish out my secret.

  “You’re in love him—with Sean, aren’t you?”

  I blushed. “Why would you say that?”

  She laughed. The first real laugh I’d heard for hours. “Goodness, because I was a girl once too, you know. I know firsthand what it’s like to fall head over heels for a boy.”

  “Really?” Now she had my curiosity piqued.

  “Yes, but no use distracting me. Tell me more about this Sean Benally. This was the one who came with you the day you moved here, yes?”

  “Yeah. He was.” I frowned a bit. “But really, there’s nothing to tell. He likes someone else, so that’s that.”

  “Of course there is!” She swatted the back of the couch. “There is most definitely a story here, even if it’s only your side of the story. Now spill.”

  I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “Fine.” So I told her about Sean. Grandmother giggled and sighed and especially made me laugh when she got me to open up about the kisses. “Good grief—who knew you were such a romantic at heart?”

  “Me?” She waggled her brows. “I’m the most hopeless one there is!”

  “I can believe it.” I chuckled a moment, and then pressed on before things got too silly and I lost this chance to get her to confide in me. “Grandmother, what happened to my dad? Do you know?”

  She sat back into the cushions. “No. I don’t even think your mother knew who he was. I hate to say it, but I fear that’s the truth.”

  “Oh.”

  She grinned ruefully and tilted her head. “You know, you remind me so much of the good parts of her.”

  “Really?” For some reason, that made me exceptionally happy.

  “It’s like you’re what she could’ve become if she wanted to. It brings me joy to see such a good, responsible girl sitting before me, knowing that you are as perfect as she could’ve ever hoped for.”

  I cried then. Those silly emotions just swept all over me. I cried for the mom I never knew, for the scared, resentful woman who was so miserable and constantly looking for happiness. I cried in thanks that once she decided not to abort me, she did so with integrity and with the hope that I would come out okay. I cried for all the wasted years and the strong pull I felt toward someone I would never really know. But mostly, I cried for the guilt and sorrow I saw written across my grandmother’s weary face. A woman who boldly accepted life and the challenges it threw her way and just went on. That woman—she was the person I hoped to emulate, the amazingly lost and yet hopeful romantic. The closest thing to a mother I would ever have.

  I scooted across the couch and curled myself into the side of her, my arm wrapping around her thick middle as I nestled up against her shoulder.

  She held me tightly and whispered, “Ayóó ánóshí.”

  I squeezed tighter, a small fissure of warmth making its way to lock within my heart permanently. “I love you too.”

  Chapter 21: Peace Heals the Heart

  After that day, Grandmother and I opened up a bit more. I found a rhythm in living there that I would’ve never imagined possible, but it was. I still missed Bloomfield like crazy. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of them all. However, Shiprock didn’t seem that bad anymore.

  I took the older two girls out on long walks, taught them about fun hairstyles, and even coached them a bit in the fashion department. I’d been around Lauren and Alexis long enough to know a few things about clothes. The girls loved it, and soon learned to see me as an older sister instead of the weird cousin who told them to clean their room.

  By February, things were going so easily, I nearly forgot I hadn’t lived in that small trailer forever. I didn’t stare at Facebook longingly and watch for Julia’s updates to see if she and Sean had done anything together. I didn’t check and double-check my empty e-mail multiple times a day. And I didn’t cry into my pillow every night. Instead, I thought of them and wondered where they were and what they were doing, but that was it.

  It felt good and healthy not to obsess so much over people who weren’t part of my life at the moment.

  Of course, that all changed when a surprise visitor came to see me just before Valentine’s Day.

  Nelvin came running into my room after school. “Lilly! Lilly! Did you know there’s a guy here to see you?”

  “What?” I rolled over on my bed. Apparently I’d fallen asleep. I’d put the younger two down for naps an hour ago and had been working on my online schooling. The laptop was open, but I’d been facedown on the bed when Nelvin came in.

  “There was a guy outside asking if you lived here.”

  What? I sat up and ran my hand through my hair. “Are you kidding me?” My heart began to race at super-warp speeds. “Did he say who he was?”

  “Nope. Just asked about you.” He smiled. “I told him to come into the living room and I’d get you.”

  Good grief. He’d probably heard this whole conversation. “Thanks,” I grumbled as I got out of bed and wished I’d thought to put some makeup on that morning.

  “No problem. He looks really cool.” Nelvin rushed out the door. “She’s coming!” he announc
ed excitedly.

  “Shh . . .” I reprimanded him as I came into the hallway. “There are kids asleep in Grandma’s room.” I could just make out the long jean-clad legs sitting on the couch from where I stood. The cats were nuzzling against his ankles. Another couple of steps and I froze. I don’t know why, but the last person I imagined sitting there would be Harrison.

  “Hello, Lilly.” He grinned.

  I wasn’t sure what to think. I blinked. “Hi.”

  His eyes roamed over my features and then he slowly got to his feet. His large frame seemed to fill the whole room. “I came to see you.”

  It was Thursday. “Don’t you have school?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled and then shrugged. “I ditched the last couple of hours and came here instead.”

  “What? Why?”

  He winked. “Why not?”

  “Um . . .” I could think of several different reasons, but I noticed a very curious Nelvin staring at us both. I cleared my throat just as the older two girls burst into the house.

  “Hey, whose car is that out—oh!”

  I glanced at Harrison. “Would you like to go for a walk?” There was no way I’d get enough privacy with all these kids here.

  “Yeah, I’d love that.”

  I looked over at the oldest girl. “You’re in charge. The two little ones are still asleep, and I need to make sure you guys get your homework done. I’ll be right outside, so get me if you need anything. When I come back, if everything is good, I’ll let you have some of that cake I made yesterday, but I have to see that you’ve done your homework and we didn’t have any fighting.”

  “Okay!” the kids exclaimed.

  “Shh!” I reminded them.

  They grinned and tiptoed to their spots in the living room. Already backpacks were being opened and homework was coming out.

  I got my coat and allowed Harrison to open the door for me. “Be good,” I said as the door swung into place.