Mary Jordan, a 61-year-old widow who immigrated to New York from Yugoslavia in the 1940s, had lived in the Norwood neighborhood of the Bronx, Brooklyn, New York, for 25 years. She had short blonde hair, high cheekbones, a jutting jaw, thin lips, and a five-foot-nine buxom figure. She was known as "the woman with the dogs" in her Bronx neighborhood and was jovial, kind, and amiable. She was always willing to assist others because she loved people just as much as she loved animals.
She had six dogs that she rescued from the streets and gave names like Sporty, Snooky, and Snoopy. She walked them outside at least three times a day.
She cared deeply about her dogs and would never allow them to go hungry. She had a lot of friends, and she told jokes to them all the time.
"Come looking for me if you ever don't see me with the dogs for a day. Never would I let them go hungry."
She was soft-spoken, frequently wore pants, and ran M. G. J. Realty, a brokerage and income-tax office, which was located three blocks from her house. She was fluent in six languages: French, Italian, Spanish, Polish, German, and Serbo-Croatian, making her a valuable asset in the region known as "the League of Nations."
Mary was a well-known figure in the Bronx, and tales of how she helped people control their behavior were frequently told. She also frequently went above and beyond to assist recent immigrants, acting as an interpreter in court and for the police. She would assist new immigrants with finding employment, housing, and any other incidentals that she could help them with when they arrived as immigrants.
Mary, however, had some flaws. She was unfailingly kind, gullible, understanding, and easy to love and trust. She had a big heart and treated everyone with kindness. She provided food for the hungry and clothes for the naked. She cherished her husband and yearned to mend the significant hole his passing had left in her heart. Her husband and she adored and spoiled one another. They launched a real estate company, went on adventures together, and jointly purchased, renovated, and sold homes. When suddenly her husband became ill and was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given six weeks to live, they were preparing to purchase, renovate, and relocate to an old country home in Indiana that reminded her of the peaceful, rural neighborhood of their Yugoslavian home. For the remaining eight weeks that her husband was ill and unable to sleep, she remained by his bedside. She recalled falling asleep while praying and crying unceasingly as she laid her hands over her husband's chest and prayed to God to heal him. It had been fifteen years.
One summer Sunday afternoon, she and her husband Nick made the decision to go for a drive so that she could personally show him some of the Indianapolis backroad homes for sale.
They noticed the first house on their left was completely deserted as they turned off the highway through town and onto a more remote country road. To find out, they stopped in a small area of the compound with short, carpet grass that they thought had been a macadamized driveway. Its deep green paint rendered it nearly invisible in contrast to the weeds, tall grass, and sticker bushes that had overtaken it. This area was further concealed by the large tree in front of it, which had thick branches and leaves. The residence appeared to be at least a century old. It appeared abandoned, weather-beaten, and in need of some tender loving care from people. It was ideal at that precise moment
They reasoned that it wouldn't harm them to trespass quite a bit since there were only trees across the street and no houses in the immediate vicinity. Well, we're interested in purchasing the property; we're not here to cause trouble, she reasoned. We're doing someone a favor by offering to relieve them of the burden of maintaining this house; all we need to do first is look around. Naturally, there were also no NO TRESPASSING signs to be found anywhere.
A well that still existed, complete with bucket, rope, handle, and the original overhang, was on the left side of the house, so they carefully made their way there. Mary was getting more and more excited about a lovely country house. There was a side entrance into the house through what appeared to be a mudroom directly across from the well. The mud room's wickerwork door was shut. But behind it, there was a metal door that was only partially open.
As soon as they stepped inside, they were hit with waves of oppressive heat, the kind that was so humid that it precipitated into steam jets. They mistook the extended pantry area or canning kitchen for a mudroom. It had only one window, an old, rusted sink, a small stove, and shelves and shelves of jars of canned vegetables that were still attached to the walls. Oh yeah, this'll be great, I totally remember how to can, and we can have a garden, planted with vegetables of every kind, Mary recollected thinking. She stopped being so naive when she reached the doorway leading to the main part of the house.
Because the kitchen was through the doorway. The sink and what was left of the cabinets were against the wall on the left, but they were either broken or barely hanging on, or both. A large, open living area with black-streaked walls leading up to a gray, partially sunken ceiling connected to the kitchen. At one time, there had been a fire. The room was much darker than it should have been in the middle of the day because the windows on that wall were filthy and covered in thick hoar of dust or ash. Mary's mood changed. She was aware that they wouldn't be able to pay for an expensive repair after a house fire, but she had mastered the art of starving her dismay into complete submission to herself.
With the exception of a small wooden rocking horse that a child could use, the open living area was completely devoid of furniture. It appeared as though someone had a huge stack of magazines and had simply thrown them up into the air to see where they would land. The floor was covered in magazines. Mary made the decision to check out the former home owners' reading choices because she was curious about them. Almost every magazine featured some aspect of dolls.
They made the decision to investigate a nearby room that was connected to the partially burned living space. A strange arrangement of an assisted toilet next to a stand-up shower that was divided in half by a wall was visible through the doorway to the left. A wall with only built-in book shelves was to the right. Books, manila envelopes, paperwork, and additional magazines filled the shelves. Although the arrangement seemed a little strange to us, we surmised that these people must have loved reading while using the restroom. Since some of the paperwork on top of the stacks appeared to be old bills, we reasoned that we might be able to determine who the previous homeowners were. At least we would now have a name to go on if we wanted to look up property records. I took a stack of papers and started leafing through them when, about halfway through, the old telephone bills gave way to color illustrations of porcelain dolls.
Mary picked up a tiny, red, five-star notebook and set the stack of papers back on the bookcase. Beginning at the top, she casually paged through and noticed neatly written daily entries of medications taken, blood pressure readings, and glucose measurements. The entries then began to change, going from simple sketches of devils to crude drawings of twisted faces with horns or bloody fangs, all done in red ink. Mary wanted to think that a kid had picked this up to draw in, but she had a different impression.
After the sketches, the notebook changed into someone's private journal, which Mary assumed was written in a senior man's cursive. It described how he realized he was getting close to the end of his life and how he recalled being a young boy at the time of his mother's death. He went into great detail about how his mother's wake was held in the living room of his house and about the nights when he would sleep by crawling on top of his mother's body in her coffin.
Mary was reading something that she couldn't believe. The jets of steam hanging in the air had been causing her sweat to drip in droplets. She suddenly developed goose bumps all over. She showed it to Nick right away, turning to the pages with devils and scowling faces before reading aloud the stranger's recollections of his mother to check if they were still accurate. He nodded at what he was holding in his hands and said, "Well, this just got a whole lot weirder," after she was finished. He had continued searching through the mountains of papers while I was reading the notebook. One stack now included photographs of actual women who were being held in bonds of torture, including having ball gags or electrical tape placed over their mouths and having their nipples twisted by jumper cables.
There were occasionally multiple women in the image. She experienced the sensation of having butterflies thrown into her stomach, butterflies that flew erratically. Those images wouldn't be disturbing for some people, but given the circumstances of their visit, her panic had begun to spread. She struggled between wanting to learn more and wanting to leave. Even though it was sinister, Nick reassured her that it wasn't anything to get upset about because the women didn't appear to be in pain or bleeding.
There was a staircase separating the burned-out living space from the rest of the home. The main room in the front of the house was just across from the staircase, and there was a small hallway leading there from the opposite side. They debated climbing to the second floor but ultimately decided against it because they already felt as though they were roasting in an oven and they were unsure of the second story's stability.
They noticed a few more doll magazines on the floor in the room across from the staircase, though not nearly as many as in the other rooms. Random arms and heads of plastic dolls were strewn about in various places. The original fireplace, which had a few tiny vases on the mantel, was to the left. In the center was a framed photograph of a smiling, contented elderly couple. These people most certainly weren't the kind to keep pictures of women bound and gagged in their bathroom.
A large bay window was to the right, and in the center was a piece of yellowed paper with faded, black, printed handwriting. Before it was covered in shrubs, it was visible to anyone standing outside the house. It read, "GO TALK TO A GRAVE DIGGER FIRST, BEFORE YOU PREACH JESUS HERE," when read backwards from the inside.
Considering that Mary assumed that an elderly couple in this community would be devout Christians, it appeared as though the house had housed two very distinct personalities.
As they continued down the narrow hallway, the air got a little bit colder. From the heat of the oven, which had been roasting them ever since they had entered, it was a relief. It was about 20 degrees cooler because the large tree in the front yard had protected them from the sun. But they soon realized that it wasn't the only factor contributing to the cooler temperature in this area of the house.
When they turned the corner and entered the final room, it took them a moment for their eyes to adjust to the different light levels, but they could immediately feel the air change. They had the impression that they were in a cave. They felt a hazy dampness on their skin as a result of the smell, which was musty, decayed, and very uncomfortably organic. They only noticed the enormous gaping hole in the floor once everything was in sharp focus.
When they got closer, it became clear that this was not the case. At first, they speculated that perhaps the wooden floor was so frail that it had simply caved in on its own or that the roof had leaked and caused this specific area of floor to rot away. It was about five feet across and went straight down into the ground, leaving about two feet between the staircase and the remaining floor. Shafts of sunlight were slanting through a few cracks in the ceiling and falling directly into the hole. Mary and her husband exchanged looks. Mary's heart was thumping so hard and fast that it might break through her chest.
Nothing made sense, but the ideas that had been churning away in the back of her mind were all starting to fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Then they noticed them: the faded and worn social security cards, a few jumbled-up and moldy driver's licenses, checkbooks, and credit cards, as if someone had just emptied their wallet or purse in this room before disappearing down the hole.
Time was frozen. Mary was still, as was her husband. Mary said, "Look!" as the grandfather clock above the mantelpiece struck five. It was too late, though. The ground gave way under Nick as he attempted to hold his wife back. He immediately fell into the hole. Mary woke up and fell down the stairs. The hospital clock caught her attention. It was 5:00 a.m. Her husband was palpable. No pulse was present. She violently shook him. He remained silent. She sobbed nonstop. He was, however, stone dead.
After her husband's passing, Mary needed almost six years to put her life back together. She had been through some dreadful and crippling things. Why does life deal some people with different circumstances than it does others? Mary saw the stages of life as imagined globules of suffering strung together because she thought she received a different measure of the world than anyone else. However, she never gave up on people or on looking for happiness in a good friend.
After so many failed attempts, she finally found joy and solace in a relationship with Robert. But this one tore her heart in two and threw it in the garbage, despite how brief it was.
For weeks, Victoria had badgered her to place an ad in the newspaper's personal section. She finally gave in, mostly to get Victoria off her back. She was a caring, loving friend whom she valued greatly, who was delightfully ditzy. She was glowing and ecstatic about being pregnant, which made Victoria happy for her but unhappy for herself.
Both of them were in their mid-thirties; Victoria was a stay-at-home mom who was struggling to make ends meet on her husband's meager salary. Since Victoria's high school graduation, Mary had been the executive officer of a real estate company that she and her husband had founded. For Mary's business, Victoria Leith had served as a secretary. She was blond, small, and vivacious—a Marilyn Monroe impersonator who drew men from ten blocks away. Mary used to find it amusing to see men of every age imaginable hovering around her desk and inventing ludicrous justifications for coming over to speak with her. She was hired the year after her husband passed away, and the following year, she wed one of the junior editors. Given all the potential suitors Victoria had turned down, it surprised everyone when she accepted Julius' proposal. Julius was a stolid, unremarkable-looking man. Mary eventually came to the conclusion that Victoria and Julius were a marriage of opposites because Victoria's quirky charm seemed out of place with Julius' unflappable personality. Mary served as maid of honor at her wedding and didn't feel particularly envious because her husband had recently passed away because she thought that her opportunity to get remarried would come in due course. She eagerly joined the festivities and showered Victoria with a lavish wedding shower.
Victoria continued to work for a while. She then made the decision to become pregnant. Nothing happened for months on end. She once confided in Mary that trying to have a child made romantic relationships less enjoyable. When she and Julius visited doctors, underwent tests, and received the all-clear, they were told to calm down, enjoy themselves, and stop worrying so much.
When Victoria finally became pregnant, it was after their sixth wedding anniversary. She was so overjoyed that she danced around the office in a daze, humming and having a good time. Julius, too, was ecstatic about the possibility of becoming a father and walked around with a silly James Bond grin on his face. After miscarrying in the third month of her pregnancy, her depression over the loss of the child became so severe that she needed to see a psychologist. Mary experienced uncontrollable joy in part and guilt and rage in the remaining part of her.
When she saw how devoted and thoughtful he was—giving her flowers every day, taking her out to romantic lunches and dinners, occasionally holding her hand and offering consoling words as she sat listlessly in front of her typewriter—she finally realized why she had married him. He was a really great man. At the mere thought of it, new jealousy flashes overtook Mary, which she firmly suppressed.
Victoria soon became pregnant again and left the company without delay. She became fiercely protective of this new life, determined to protect it from any potential harm, despite her obstetrician's assurances that the job wasn't the cause of her miscarriage.
Victoria joined Mary in her springtime sunny kitchen as she drank glasses of milk like an alcoholic on a binge while Mary sipped a cup of coffee. Victoria chattered excitedly, gushing fervently about how her baby would have strong teeth and bones. She talked about the crib they had purchased, the adorable baby clothes, and how thrilled the prospective grandparents were about the upcoming birth as she grinned at Mary over the rim of her glass. Mary sighed because she was sick of hearing the same tales over and over, but because she was her friend, she was determined to listen and nod while stifling a yawn.
"Mary, I'm sure you'll find a great guy if you place an ad in the personals section," she assured her. Try it; you might find yourself getting married before I have a baby!
Mary gave her a regretful smile. Victoria, the world needs idealistic Pollyanna like you who see everything through rose-colored glasses.
"Mary, stop being such a damper!" Victoria reprimanded. Never before have I felt happier! It's your turn now. The baby is completely healthy, according to the doctor. Have I mentioned that I had a sonogram last week?
Mary gave a sleepy nod. Vic, you did indeed tell me three times.
"I'm so excited, and you're the best friend I've ever had, so please forgive me if I sound like a broken record. I want to express my happiness to you. Oh, honey, I'm such an idiot," she said, casting a quick glance in Mary's direction. "The fact that I keep talking about how happy I am while you remain alone makes me realize that my words weren't particularly diplomatic. I apologize. Listen! My older brother is visiting the area. Do you want to meet him?"
Victoria, stop apologizing for everything, Mary yelled indignantly as she cut her off. I enjoy being single. I once had the happiest marriage of any woman ever. Even if I never have another marriage or child, I won't pass away. I'll just be your baby's Aunt Mary. And Vic, please stop arranging blind dates for me! Enough is enough! It would be awkward if I met your brother and didn't like him. It would ruin our friendship, and I don't want that. Okay?"
Mary was attempting to keep her voice down, but the sound of the word "single" made her shiver. Hearing it recently brought up memories that she had long since pushed to the backyard of her mind. Who was she making fun of? She desired marriage in order to rekindle her love relationship with a man whom she could also love. She merely didn't believe she stood a chance because twenty-year-olds with lean, toned bodies and flowing hair were mostly the choice of the men in her age bracket. She had a creamy complexion, big, brown eyes, and thick, short blonde hair, so she didn't stand a chance with such men. She was an independent woman, and many men felt threatened.
That evening, she grabbed the evening newspaper and turned to the personals section before heading home. There they were—a group of sensitive, well-dressed men who almost all professed to be good candidates for marriage. She had undoubtedly never met any wonderful men if there were so many of them out there. Without success, she had tried singles bars, adult education, and blind dates set up by friends.
Victoria stated that as the CEO of a real estate company as well as an income tax company, she was too scary. Mary resolutely refused to play the defenseless female that so many of these guys seemed to seek, despite the advice to "tone herself down" from her fame and prestige.
What was there to lose in placing an advertisement for herself? Nothing. What was there for her to gain? Maybe a buddy for life. That being said, the choice was skillfully removed from her hands. She took a piece of paper and thoughtfully wrote her advertisement.
The next evening, Victoria attentively read it while one hand caressed her growing belly. "An intellectual single man between the ages of thirty-eight and forty-five is sought after by an attractive career woman, thirty-eight years of age, with a religious affiliation, to go out to supper, plays, and rock and classical concerts. Only serious suitors, please.
Victoria made a face as she gazed up at Mary. "Mary, don't you think it's a little stiff? Can't you add a little more punch because you're the language mistress?" Her comical expression of irritation made her chuckle. "Victoria, I'm looking for a good, respectable man who shares my interests. That ad reminds me of myself, and I'm also looking for a potential marriage partner. I think my advertisement says it clearly enough.
Victoria agreed, but she didn't think it made her sound very entertaining. "Only serious suitors, please. Why not substitute for 'I want to get married'"?
Mary gave her a tight hug while laughing loudly. Victoria, if you'll excuse me, I'd want to do things my way. Let me see the replies I receive. I can always run another ad, one with a little more punch, as you advised, if there's no interesting response. I don't anticipate falling in love at first sight or being swept off my feet by a white knight. I'm a down to earth gal!"
"Mary, don't use sarcasm around me. I'm happy you're finally making a move for the better. Marriage is wonderful!"
"You've been telling me that for almost eight years as if I'm a beginner in that field. You only have a basketball belly as a result," Mary mocked.
Victoria snorted, her china blue eyes flashing, "You're just jealous. I bet you'll become pregnant the night of your wedding when you get married," she said.
"Please!" Don't you think we should talk a little first, Victoria? Mary asked with mock modesty.
She laughed and said, "Well, a few words."
For the first time in years, Mary felt positive and enthusiastic, as well as young, so she opened a post office box and mailed her advertisement. Victoria had a contagious zeal. Even if Mary didn't find her "expected lifetime companion," she might still have fun. She hadn't been on an interesting date in a very long time.
Initial responses left Mary feeling discouraged. She had high expectations for the letters and was disappointed when she pulled the first two, with hope, from her post office box. They sounded both childish and illiterate.
It was so surprising that the third letter began with a couplet. Other individuals waiting in line for their mail at the post office turned to look at Mary as she chuckled. "Is your ad as refined as you? Let's get together and have a drink or two!" He continued by saying that he was forty and had recently moved to the area in order to accept "a job in a real estate company." He wanted to take me out to dinner the next Saturday night and was a huge fan of theater, cinema, and classical music. His spelling and grammar were flawless, as one would expect from a writer, but she was aware from her own work that many writers had only a cursory understanding of language. But this one came from the real estate industry. She was genuinely astonished and delighted! He wrote, "Looking forward to meeting you, Robert." Mary spoke the name out loud; she really liked how masculine and appealing it sounded.
Mary replied in a succinct, thoughtful manner, giving Robert her phone number and stating that she thought Saturday sounded good. I may be prim, but I'm also prime; I'm sure we'll have a great time! She wrote as a P.S. before sealing the envelope after having a wicked notion that was quite unlike her.
Several days later, Robert called. They enjoyed a brief conversation because of his arrestingly deep and resonant voice. He undoubtedly had a lovely enough sounding voice, but Mary immediately found herself shaking and doubting her judgment. She had previously gone on blind dates, but this man was a complete stranger! What if he was a murder-rapist on the police's wanted list?
But because she was drawn to his friendly voice and gregarious demeanor, she made a deal with herself.
"Robert . . . Would you mind if we double-dated with some of my friends? I know you wanted to spend the evening alone together."
He told her resoundingly, "Mary, that sounds fine to me. Considering you might be a distant descendant of Lizzie Borden. In this day and age, a man can't take any chances, can he?"
He made her feel a little silly, but she called Victoria and asked if Julius and she were interested in joining them for dinner and a quick trip to the neighborhood fair. She spoke shrilly with delight as she talked about Robert.
"He works in the real estate industry, and you run one too! Destiny has it! Naturally, we'll accompany you, but because my due date was yesterday, we might spend the entire evening in the hospital. Oh Mary, I can just feel it! I'm really eager to meet him!"
She told Mary they would talk more after the big date because while her excitement was contagious, it also gave her a headache.
At 4.00 p.m., Robert arrived on time to bring up Mary. He had a smile that seemed familiar. He was around six feet tall, and was muscular. Mary was certain she had seen him before when she initially opened the door, but the feeling immediately vanished like a camera's flash. They exchanged smiles. Mary felt quite slim and attractive because she was wearing a white dress, had diligently exercised, and had lost five pounds. Robert secretly glanced her over, and she could see the satisfaction on his face. They giggled as they met one other's eyes. Mary gave him a glass of red wine and then drank some of it herself. Together, they sat down at the table after clinking their glasses. Mary worked all day to make the table as enchanting as she could. He quizzed her on her job while they talked about his new position. Despite not yet exchanging last names, they felt well at home around one another.
The majority of the dates Mary had in the past lacked Robert's sharp wit and inquisitive mind. She experienced a high sense of anticipation at the prospect of a serious romance with this man. Mary felt a rush of hot blood in her lions and shuddered. She thought Robert may be a nice friend in addition to being attracted to him.
They drove to the carnival after leaving to pick up Victoria and Julius. Victoria and Julius welcomed Robert warmly once Mary had introduced him to them. Victoria's constant giggles made Mary annoyed with her. While having a great time and appearing out of place, Robert and Mary explored the carnival grounds. Mary shrieked like a small kid when Robert won her a cuddly plush koala bear. Mary started to question whether or not she had made the right decision in asking Julius and Victoria to chaperone Robert and her as they trailed behind them, elbowing each other like schoolchildren.
Because of her health, Victoria was afraid to ride the Ferris wheel, so Robert took Mary up alone. From the top, there was an amazing view. From below, tens of thousands of blinking lights were nodding their approval at Robert and Mary's developing romance. Mary turned to face Robert, who brushed a soft finger over her chin before placing a warm kiss on her lips. Mary enthusiastically responded, putting her arms around his neck and giving him a passionate kiss in return. It was a sweet kiss. When they laughed together, it was an exhilarating sound of unadulterated joy as he hugged her close. They parted reluctantly as the Ferris wheel came to a stop. Robert grinned at her as they shared another kiss. As they descended, Mary experienced some lightheadedness that wasn't related to the trip. Did they actually experience the cliché? Were they the raving, love-at-first-sight victims?
Holding hands, they descended from the Ferris wheel and made their way gently to the seat where Julius and Victoria were waiting for them. They ran the remaining distance before halting short in a cloud of dust after realizing right away that Victoria was crouching.
Julius spoke hurriedly, his face blanched with fear, "She's in labor."
Mary laughed nervously and continued, "Well, Victoria said she might have the baby tonight—she usually was late! We should probably head right immediately to the hospital, I suppose."
"Sure," Robert swiftly said, placing his trembling hand in Mary's. I will drive.
Victoria took deep breaths while Julius timed her contractions with the second hand on his watch as they were brought to the parking lot and seated in the backseat. Robert maneuvered the car with skill, comforting the terrified couple with his words. While Mary carefully examined his gorgeous profile, he occasionally squeezed and petted her hand. "Why did he seem so recognizable to me? I knew I would have remembered meeting someone this attractive!"
Victoria's heavy breathing had changed to sporadic grunts, suggesting that the intensity of her labor had increased. Mary gave her a consoling smile, but all she gave back was a forced grimace.
Even though the trip to the hospital was short, it seemed to take forever. By the time they managed to get Victoria there and through the admissions procedure, motherhood seemed to be just around the corner. Robert and Mary nestled into a pair of plastic chairs to wait for the big announcement as Julius and Victoria vanished into a delivery room.
Mary was taken aback by the intensity of his anxiety and worry for the marriage. He had only recently met Victoria and Julius, after all. She gave it some thought, but ultimately concluded she wouldn't be shocked. Robert was unmistakably a kind and sympathetic person. Mary was ecstatic to be there with him.
Robert suddenly exclaimed, "Mary, I keep thinking you're a beautiful spirit who's going to fade from my sight."
Mary was shocked—she had been contemplating him in just the same ways! I know what you mean, Robert," she responded sincerely. Despite the fact that I've been dating for more than 10 years and have had strong feelings for a few guys, today I met you. I hope it's okay if I say it out loud, but I believe I'm falling for you. Mary regarded him in the hopes that she hadn't damaged everything with her haste. Mary's hidden strengths were being revealed by him! He must have had some good ones because the joy on his face flashed like a beacon. They shook hands and remained silent for a short while.
"Mary, I share your sentiments. I've been out with a number of so-called women, you know, young girls who are barely out of their teens and have no idea what an adult relationship is like. They only desire my body." While laughing, Mary hugged him.
"It's okay to laugh; ladies believe they are the only ones with that kind of issue, but they are not," he said. "You, Mary, make me feel like I've found my "Mrs. Right, yet I've never been this impetuous."
"Neither have I," Mary said. "You give me comfort. However, there is one odd thing: Have we ever met before? If I had to swear—
"Are you two with the Leiths?" A nurse interrupted them at that precise moment.
"Yes!" Robert exclaimed as he sprang to his feet with trepidation. I'm the brother of Mrs. Leith. How is she doing? Is the infant okay?"
Mary was in shock! Victoria's sibling! He was nearly her twin, which explains why he seemed so familiar. When Mary tried to speak, her jaw clamped shut once more. The moment wasn't right to pursue the issue. Evidently, she was the victim of a small fraud.
The nurse beamingly announced, "Mrs. Leith gave birth to a seven-pound, nine-ounce boy, squalling and healthy." Do you want to see him?"
A wailing, purple-faced morsel of humanity was held up by the nurse as the pair accompanied her to the large window overlooking the nursery. He was very little. He captured their attention for a short while as they both looked at him, amazed by his tiny limbs, legs, and head in addition to his incredible lung capacity. Mary continued, "This is my first present to you, little one. Robert won this koala bear for you. Hello, world!"
In front of all the helpless infants in the window, Robert grabbed her in his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. I don't know if I should forgive you for tricking me, Mary murmured, staring into his lovely eyes that were so similar to Victoria's. "In a partnership, honesty is crucial in my opinion."
Robert lovingly kissed her face, eyes, and neck as he whispered, "Oh, I agree." "Victoria came up with the idea that I respond to your ad."
Mary clutched him tightly and murmured, breathlessly, "I know."
The embarrassed nurse interjected, "Mrs. Leith would like you two to come see her for a few moments in her room. You'll both need to put on masks and gowns because we're bringing the baby in. As instructed by the nurse." They put on the loose yellow gowns and, grinning, covered their mouths and noses with masks. They went into Victoria's cheerfully decorated room. It was a touching image of Julius sitting on the bed with his arm around Victoria's neck and their darling son in her arms. Robert and Mary approached them while holding hands, and their joy was so apparent that they practically felt it reach out and touch them.
Above her mask, Virginia's eyes were dancing. Even though she appeared worn out, she inquired, "So, when are you two getting married?" with her usual upbeat tone.
"Tomorrow," Robert immediately responded.
"Whoa! That is a little too hasty, don't you think?" Mary made a feeble protest.
Robert chuckled and declared, "Impulsiveness is now going to rule my life." While gazing intently at me, he traced a finger over the infant's cheek.
"We won't get there any sooner than two months from now, Robert. Okay, let's give Victoria some time to recover from childbirth." Mary smiled.
* * *
The wedding was canceled. Laura, Mary's daughter, was a part of Mary's mental devastation and misery. Two months later, Robert simply ended their relationship and didn't return.
"Laura, are you sure that's what you want?" Mary yelled. "Now that Robert is gone, you are glad, aren't you? You've been attempting to drive a wedge between me and him for days. You don't want me to be happy? Are you not being indifferent to how I feel? Have I not suffered enough?"
"Mom, Uncle Bob is not healthy for you. He'll only bring you greater harm. He only cares about your pockets."
"This is a really preposterous insinuation! How is that even possible? Have you met him before?" Mary wept.
"Mom, trust me when I say I recognize him. I at least understand his type. He is a hustler and a gold-digger. I'm not a fan of such people. He's the kind of guy who's always looking to get something out of you," Laura chuckled.
"There you go again with this gold-digging stuff of yours. Where did I bury the gold that men would want to dig? Instead of standing here spewing rubbish, simply say you dislike him for no reason!"
"We can't stand each other! I simply do not need his stress added to the one I'm already going through. Gosh! That dude perfectly specializes in pushing all the wrong buttons! To hell with Uncle Bob! To hell with him! I do not want anyone to come here and dictate how I should live. I want serenity in my house. I have enough of you breathing down my neck already, Laura exploded.
"Ooh! Is that it? What did he do?"
"He suggested I wasn't doing as well as expected with my schoolwork in a comment he made the other day. He made disparaging comments about my room, boyfriend, clothes, hair, and bedding. These early attritions irritate and drive me nuts. I don't want any of that!" Laura hissed.
"Oh, you young children never learn. Only 17 years old and you claim to know everything? This merely demonstrates Robert's concern for you. Mary cried out.
"Oh, f**k him! He should keep his comments and care to himself. I don't want them," She was screaming and banging on the door. Then she left the house.
Mary's heart ached from unimaginable pain. She recalled the events leading up to their rift. Laura unexpectedly returned from college one day. She had dropped out of school in order to live with her boyfriend.
Mary wept all night long. "Laura seemed to be depriving me of everything I had ever desired," she was pondering, "including becoming the ideal mother and perhaps even a loving grandma. She rejected sound advice and favored a life in the wild. She would shout and slam the door before my face whenever I wanted her to do something. She used to stay out late. I would lie in bed, unable to sleep because I was wondering where she would be, only to hear the door slam at 4.00 in the morning. We frequently argued over her lack of assistance around the house and over her schoolwork, and her general attitude. Her room always looked like a mound of trash.
"After more disagreements, Laura left for good in the middle of one night. We had a bad argument about her reckless living. I recall yelling, 'Get lost!' while she fumbled around in the loft searching for her backpack. 'Laura, you must return to school. You have not chosen the ideal life for yourself!' I screamed at her. After leaving that night, she returned two weeks later to declare her breakup with her partner.
"What heinous sin did I commit? I merely advised her to gather herself together, stop acting like an over-pampered child, and think about returning to school.
"She broke down in tears and demanded to know if that was all I could do for her since she was so distraught and needed a hug from me and my sympathy. She was my own kid. She claimed that by failing to provide her with the necessary assistance, I had made her look foolish.
"She then put all of her belongings, including her clothes and books, into the automobile I had just purchased for her. She did not even give me a goodbye kiss before she drove away. I kept calling her and leaving voicemails for her, but did not receive even one response her."