Shadows - Girl In The Shadows Part 14

6.

Mama Comes Home .

"Well, ain't this a pretty kettle of fish," Mrs.

Westington said. She glanced at Echo and then relaxed her embrace. "You probably don't remember who that is. Echo. It almost takes a divining rod for me to determine her ident.i.ty, but that there is your mother or what pa.s.ses for her," she said.

"Now let's not start out on the wrong foot.

Mom," Rhona said.

"We've been on the wrong foot for some time, Rhona. Too late to get off that." Mrs. Westington said.

"Hi, Echo." Rhona said. "I wouldn't have recognized you. You've grown so. Don't you want to give me a kiss and a hug?" She held out her arms.

Echo stared up at her, unmoving, her hand tightly clasping Mrs. Westighton's. Did her own mother forget her daughter was deaf?

A tall, thin man with a grubby beard stepped up beside Rhona. He was wearing a white b.u.t.ton down s.h.i.+rt that looked like it had last been washed ten years ago and a pair of torn, ragged jeans with black sandals. His toes were so dirty, it was hard to tell where they were and where the straps of the sandals were. The strands of his dull brown hair resembled broken springs shooting off in every direction. When he smiled, his thin lips practically disappeared, producing a dull slice above his slightly protruding cleft chin. His neck looked like it needed a good scrubbing.

"This is Skeeter." Rhona said, lowering her arms.

"Hi there," he said, saluting quickly at Mrs.

Westington. I glanced at her. She looked like she had just swallowed some sour milk. "You have a very nice house and great property. Love this old door. Oak, isn't it?"

"Skeeter? Didn't your parents give you a real name?" she asked.

I laughed to myself. Mrs. Westington wasn't one to hold back her thoughts and criticisms, even when she faced a complete stranger.

"Well, my real name is Sanford Bickers. but I never saw myself as a Sanford."

"Everyone knows him as Skeeter. Mom. No one knows him as Sanford."

"Then you two have something in common.

You're both running away from yourselves," Mrs.

Westington told her.

"I never knew you to be inhospitable. Ma,"

Rhona said.

Mrs. Westington looked at her askance.

"You're happy to see me at least, aren't you.

Trevor?" Rhona asked him, her voice sweet and syrupy.

Trevor's eyes s.h.i.+fted quickly to Mrs.

Westington and then he looked away.

"All right. Rhona." Mrs. Westington said sharply. "to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit by you and Mr. Skeeter?"

"I've just been through h.e.l.l. Mom. Skeeter helped me a great deal, I would have thought you would be a little more considerate since you knew what I've been through," Rhona whined.

"I'm sorry to say it. Rhona, but I doubt very much you're through with h.e.l.l," Mrs. Westington said.

She turned to Echo and me. "Let's get our things inside and up to your rooms, girls," she told me. I signed quickly to Echo, who was just standing there and gaping at Rhona.

"Who is she?' Rhona asked, nodding at me.

"This is April Taylor. She's been helping me with Echo. You can thank her properly later," Mrs.

Westington told her.

"Is she staying in my room? I see it's being used."

"Your room? You gave up that room and a lot more years ago, Rhona."

"Well, where are Skeeter and I going to stay?"

"Who says you're staying?" Mrs. Westington retorted, and urged Echo and me to get our things again. I moved quickly, taking it all out of the station wagon. I glanced at Rhona, who had folded her arms petulantly under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and stepped to the side, glaring at her mother. Skeeter kept a small smile on his face. They watched us enter the house and then followed.

"Now listen to me. Mom." Rhona began.

"Please."

Ignoring her. Mrs. Westington turned to Trevor and nodded at the living room. "Would you be so kind as to turn that television set off. Trevor? We don't need the noise right now. Seems we have enough static already."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, glanced at Rhona, and then went into the living room to do it.

"Go on up. April. Help Echo put her things away. please.'

"Okay," I said. I looked at Rhona again. Her eyes were inflamed with indignation and resentment and it looked like it was all directed at me, as if I were the cause of all her lifelong problems.

Trevor stepped back into the hallway. "I've got something waiting on me back at the winery." he told Mrs. Westington, nodded at Rhona, and hurried out.

I gestured to Echo for us to go up the stairs.

"Wait a minute." Rhona said, reaching for Echo, who couldn't take her eyes off her. "Don't you want to say h.e.l.lo to your mother. Echo? Give her a proper greeting?"

"You forget the little signing you knew?" Mrs.

Westington asked her.

"She knows what I'm saying."

"I doubt that," Mrs. Westinton told her. "I'm not deaf and I don't know what you're saying,"

Rhona held out her arms, again expecting Echo to come to her for an embrace. Echo looked at Mrs.

Westington and then she turned and started up the stairs with her boxes and bags.

"Echo! Echo, you listen to me."

"Lardy Dee. Did you forget the child is deaf?"

Mrs. Westington asked her. "She doesn't recognize you. probably. She was barely out of infancy when you deserted her.'

"Look, Mom. I came here because I need you to help us and since you helped me get past my recent troubles. I thought you would have a different att.i.tude, especially when you hear and see how I would like to make things right and to do the right things from now on."

"Mending fences, are you?"

"Yes."

"Turning a new leaf, are you?"

"Yes, Mom," she said in a tired voice. "With Mr. Skeeter?"

"Can we sit down and talk like two adults.

please?" Rhona pleaded.

"Two? Are you saying Mr. Skeeter or you ain't adult?"

"Mom?"

"I'll make some tea," Mrs. Westington relented.

You can use the guest room at the end of the hall upstairs. It's clean. My girl cleans it once a week no matter if anyone uses it or not, so don't mess it up so it looks like that pig pen you're driving out there. Put on some decent clothing, clean yourselves up so you're both fit to be in the same room with decent people, come down to the living room and get you get down to bra.s.s tacks."

"Bra.s.s tacks?" Skeeter asked, smiling widely and looking at Rhona.

"Mom has a colorful way of speaking. We already brought our things to that room, seeing mine was messed up."

"Messed up? It's twice as neat as your best day in it."

"Okay, Main. Just come on," she told Skeeter, and headed for the stairs.

I had been climbing slowly so as to hear their conversation. I sped up behind Echo and continued toward her room with her to help her put away her new things. I could see she was quite stunned with her mother's unexpected appearance.

"That's my mother." she signed to me as soon as we entered her room and she had put her bags and boxes down on the bed.

"I know."

"She looks different," she told me.

"People change. You haven't seen her in a long time," I said. "Let's put your things away."

I began to hang up clothes for her and she began to put things in her dresser drawers. She was full of questions, of course. Her hands were moving too quickly for me to follow, so she began to write.

"Is my mother staying here now?"

"I don't know."

"Who is that man? Is he my father?"

Again. I wrote. "I don't know. I don't think he's your father. however. I think she met him long after you were born. Echo."

"I don't like him." she wrote. and I laughed.

"I don't think your grandmother is particularly fond of him either."

She thought a moment and then wrote. "Why didn't Tyler say h.e.l.lo to us?"

"He was in a big rush. As I explained to you, something must have happened at their business," I told her. She thought about my answer and for the moment that seemed to suffice.

I was going to ask her about her nightmare last night and her coming to my bed, but on second thought. I decided she had been through enough turmoil already today. It could wait for a time when we had a quiet moment together. I told her I was going to put my new things away.

-When I entered my room. I found Rhona there, rifling through her closet, tossing garments onto the bed. She turned as soon as she realized I was standing there, "These are my things," she said. "I'm not taking anything that belongs to you."

"I know."

She stared at me a moment and then turned to me completely, her hands on her hips. "Who are you anyway? How come you're living here?" she demanded.

I began to explain, describing how I arrived at the vineyard after Uncle Palaver's death. I told her who he had been and what we had done together.

"So that's why there's a motor home and a car back there. My mother just took you in?"

"Yes." I said.

"What about the rest of your own family?" I told her about Brenda, about my parents. "This is ridiculous. Now she's turning this place into an orphanage," she said. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion again. "Did you touch any of my things, my clothing?"

"Your mother wanted me to wear one of the nightgowns, but other than that, I..."

"I don't know why I even asked. You couldn't possibly fit into anything of mine anyway. but I a.s.sure you I don't intend to let you just take over my possessions," she warned. "My advice to you is to find another elderly old lady to take advantage of."

"I am not taking advantage of anyone."

"Right. I've been on the road myself, you know.