Chapter 4 Mary Jordan

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.

She and her husband Nick chose to take a drive one summer Sunday afternoon so that she could show him personally some of the Indianapolis backroad homes for sale.

They observed the first house on their left was completely deserted when they came off the highway along town and onto a less traveled country road. To find it, they drove into a small area of the property overgrown with short, carpet grass that they assumed had been a macadamized drive. Its dark green hue rendered it nearly invisible among the stickers, tall grass, and weeds that had engulfed it. The spot was also obscured by the large tree in front of it, with thick branches and leaves. The house appeared to have been abandoned for at least a century. It appeared abandoned, weathered, and in desperate need of some tender loving care from humans. It was ideal at that very moment

They believed it would not harm them to trespass quite a bit because there were only trees on the other side of the road and no houses around. Well, we want to purchase the house; we don't want to cause trouble, she thought. We're doing someone a favor by taking this house off their hands; we just need to take a quick look around first. Naturally, there were no NO TRESPASS signs anywhere to be found either.

They did have an existing well with bucket, rope, handle, and original overhang that was already on the left-hand side of the house, so they handled this gingerly. Mary was more and more excited about a pretty country home. There was a side entrance into the house through what appeared to be a mudroom directly across from the well. The wickerwork door to the mud room was shut. But at the rear, there was a metal door, barely ajar.

The instant they stepped inside, they were struck by waves of suffocating heat, the kind that was so humid it rained in the form of steam jets. They mistook the elongated pantry area or canning kitchen for a mudroom. It had but a single window, an ancient, rusty sink, a small stove, and shelf after shelf of jars of canned vegetables still on the walls. Oh yeah, this'll be great, I remember exactly how to can, and we can have a garden, planted with vegetables of every variety, Mary recalled thinking. She stopped being so naive when she hit the doorway to the front of the house, because the kitchen was on the other side of the doorway.

The sink and remains of the cabinets lined the left wall, but they were shattered or barely hanging, or both. There was a large, spacious living room with black-splashed walls that went right up to a gray, half-sunken ceiling that joined onto the kitchen. There had once been a fire there. The room was infinitely darker than it would have been at mid-day because the windows on this side were dirty and covered in great hoar of dust or ash. Mary grew gloomy. She was aware that they would be unable to afford an expensive repair following a fire in the house, but she had mastered the art of starving her dismay into complete submission to herself.

Apart from a small wooden rocking horse on which a child could ride, the open living area was completely furniture-less. It resembled as if someone had a huge stack of magazines and simply threw them in the air to catch where they landed. Magazines were all over the floor. Mary chose to go through the reading of the former owners since she was curious about them. Almost every magazine had some reference to dolls.

They opted to check out a nearby room that was next to the partially burned living space. An unusual arrangement of an assisted toilet next to a stand-up shower that was divided in half by a wall could be observed through the left doorway. A wall without in-built book shelves was to the right. Books, manila envelopes, documents, and other magazines filled the shelves.

Although the configuration appeared somewhat odd to us, we assumed that these people most likely truly enjoyed reading in the bathroom. Since some of the papers on the tops of the stacks appeared to be overdue invoices, we speculated that maybe we could determine the previous owners. At least now we would have a name to look for if we decided to look through property records. I reached down and got a stack of papers and started flipping through them when, about halfway through, the old telephone bills were interrupted by color photographs of porcelain dolls.

Mary grabbed a little red five-star notebook and placed the stack of papers back on the bookcase. She began at the start, reading casually and seeing neat, handwriting-type daily logs of medications taken for blood pressures, and blood glucose levels. The logs began to change and progressed from line drawings of devils to rough sketches of contorted faces with horns or bloody fangs, all in red ink. Mary wished to believe that a child had drawn this, but she had another impression.

After the drawings, the notebook became someone's diary, which Mary felt was written in an old man's handwriting in cursive. It described how he knew he was reaching the end of his life and how he recalled being a young boy when his mother died. He told her in great detail of his mother's wake being in his living room and of sleeping at nights by climbing on top of his mother's body in her coffin.

Mary was reading something she could hardly believe. Jets of steam in the air had been causing her sweat to drip in globules of beads. She suddenly had goose bumps everywhere. She opened it right away to the pages with the devils and scowling faces and read aloud the stranger's memories of his mother to determine if they remained true. She nodded at what she was holding and said, "Well, this just got a whole lot weirder," when she was done. She had continued to dig through the stacks of papers as she read the notebook. One stack now had pictures of actual women who were tied up in torture schemes, like they had ball gags or electrical tape over their mouths and had jumper cables clamped on their nipples.

There were occasionally more than one woman in the photo. She felt as though butterflies were thrown into her stomach, butterflies that flapped around frantically. Those images would not be disturbing to some people, but given the situation of their visit, her fear was beginning to get the better of her. She struggled between the desire to know more and the desire to leave. Even though it was foreboding, Nick reassured her that it was not a cause for alarm because the women were neither bleeding nor in pain.

A stairway separated the burnt-out living room from the rest of the house. The front main room was right across from the stairway, and a little hall led to it on the other side. They thought about going upstairs to the second floor but decided not to because they already felt as if they were being cooked in an oven and did not know if the second floor was stable.

They noticed a couple more doll magazines on the floor in the room across from the stairs, but not nearly as many as in the other rooms. Random plastic doll arms and heads were here and there. The original fireplace, with a couple of small vases on the mantel, was to the left. In the center was a framed photograph of a smiling, contented older couple. These guys certainly weren't the kind to have photos of women bound and gagged in their bathroom.

To the right was a large bay window, and in the center was a yellowed piece of paper with a faded black printed handwriting on it. It could be read by anyone who stood outside the home prior to the shrubs overgrowing it. It read, "GO TALK TO A GRAVE DIGGER DEAR, BEFORE YOU PREACH JESUS HERE," when the writing was viewed from the inside in reverse.

Since Mary had assumed that an older couple in this neighborhood would be highly religious Christians, it was as if the house had been occupied by two very different people.

As they proceeded down the narrow hallway, the air grew a bit chilly. It was a reprieve from the heat of the oven, which had been baking them since they'd entered. It was maybe 20 degrees cooler because of the large tree in the front yard, which had blocked the sun. But they soon realized that it was not the only reason this section of the house was cooler.

As they turned the corner and entered the final room, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the differing levels of light, but they could immediately feel the air change. They felt like they were in a cave. They felt a vague dampness on their skin in reaction to the smell, which was musty, putrid, and very uncomfortably organic. They saw only the great gaping hole in the floor when all was in clear focus.

As they got closer, they realized that this was not the case. They speculated at first that maybe the wooden floor was so rotten that it had simply imploded upon itself or that the roof had been leaking and this part of the floor had rotted out. It was about five feet in diameter and went straight down into the ground, with about two feet of space between the stairs and the rest of the floor. Sunlight was cutting through a number of cracks in the ceiling and beaming directly into the hole. Mary and her husband exchanged a glance. Mary's heart was racing so fast and so hard that it might burst through her chest.

Nothing made sense, yet the ideas that had been brewing in the back of her head were all starting to connect like pieces of a puzzle. And then they spotted them: the tattered and outdated social security cards, the multiple knotted-up and moldy driver's licenses, checkbooks, and charge cards, as if someone had dumped their purse or wallet in this room and disappeared down the hole.

Time froze. Mary did not stir; her husband did. "Look!" exclaimed Mary as the grandfather clock above the mantelpiece struck five. It was too late, however. The ground gave way under Nick as he attempted to hold back his wife, and he plunged headlong into the gaping hole. Mary woke up having fallen from her chair. The hospital clock caught her eye. It was 5:00 a.m. Her husband was stiff, stone dead. She shook him vigorously, and felt no pulse. She wept and groaned uncontrollably. She had unbelievably lost Nick.

CHAPTER 3B

It took Mary almost six years to get her life together again after the death of her husband. She had been through some awful and debilitating experiences. Why does life deal different cards to some individuals than it does to others? Mary considered the steps of life as theoretical drops of sorrow strung together since she believed she received a different allowance of the world than others. She never lost hope in people, however, or in finding happiness with a nice friend.

After all those failed attempts, she finally got happy and comfortable in a relationship with Robert. But this one tore her heart into two and threw it in the garbage, despite it being so brief.

Victoria had been pestering her for weeks to place an advert in the personal section of the paper. She had eventually given in, just to get Victoria off her back. She was a lovely, friendly girl whom she adored a lot, who was delightfully ditsy. She glowed and was over the moon about being pregnant, which made Victoria delighted for her but despondent for herself.

They were both in their mid-thirties; Victoria was a homemaker struggling to make ends meet on her husband's meager earnings. Mary had been the chief executive officer in a real estate company she and her husband built since Victoria's high school graduation. Victoria Leith had been a secretary at Mary's firm. She was a blonde, petite, bubbly Marilyn Monroe lookalike who caught men's attention from a ten-block distance.

Mary used to find it amusing to see men of all ages hanging around her desk and devising ridiculous reasons to come over and speak with her. She was hired the year her husband passed away, and the following year, she married one of the younger editors. With all the possibilities Victoria had turned down, no one was more surprised than anyone else when she accepted Julius. Julius was a sturdy, unimaginative-looking man.

Mary finally concluded that Victoria and Julius were opposites in marriage because Victoria's quirky charm didn't appear to mesh with Julius' stoic nature. Mary was her maid of honor at the wedding and did not feel particularly jealous because her own husband had recently passed away due to the fact that she felt her own opportunity to remarry would come in good time. She easily joined in the festivities and gave Victoria a lavish wedding shower. Victoria still worked. Then she decided to become pregnant. Nothing was happening for months and months. She once said to Mary that attempting to get pregnant was making sex less enjoyable. When she and Julius went to see doctors, got tested, and received the thumbs-up, they were told to relax, enjoy themselves, and worry less.

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 reveling in bliss. Julius was also on cloud nine at the thought of becoming a father and went around with a silly James Bond grin plastered on his face. Having miscarried in the third month of pregnancy, her depression over the loss of the child intensified so much that she had to seek the help of a psychologist. Mary experienced uncontrollable joy in half and anger and guilt in the other half of her. When she saw how thoughtful he was-sending her flowers every day, taking her out for romantic lunches and dinners, sometimes holding her hand and bringing words of comfort when she sat idly before her typewriter-she finally knew why she married him. He was a very good man. At the mere thought of it, new flashes of jealousy occurred to Mary, which she firmly suppressed.

Victoria became pregnant again shortly and left the company in a flash. She became fiercely protective of this new life, determined to shield it from any conceivable harm, despite her obstetrician's assurances that the miscarriage was not caused by the job.

Victoria was back at Mary's springtime sunny kitchen as she downed glasses of milk like an alcoholic on a bender while Mary sipped a cup of coffee. Victoria bubbled away happily, rhapsodizing about her baby's good teeth and sturdy bones. She talked of the crib she had purchased, of the adorable little baby clothes, and of the potential grandparents being thrilled at the baby on the way as she smiled at Mary between the rim of her glass and the table.

Mary yawned as she was fed up with hearing the same tales repeated over and over again, but because she was her friend, she was determined to listen and nod as she suppressed a yawn.

"Mary, I'm sure you'll find a good fellow if you place an ad under the personals column," she comforted her. Try it; you'll be wedded before I have a baby!

Mary gave her a sad smile. Victoria, the world requires idealistic Pollyanna like you who see everything through rose-colored glasses.

"Mary, stop being such a damper!" Victoria scolded. I've never felt so joyful in my life! It's your turn now. The baby is perfectly healthy, according to the doctor. I told you, didn't I, that I had a sonogram last week?"

Mary nodded drowsily. Vic, you did, in fact, say it three times to me."

"I'm so happy, and you're the best friend I've ever had, so forgive me if I sound like a broken record. I just want to tell you how happy I am. Oh, honey, I'm such an idiot," she said with a glance in Mary's direction. "The fact that I keep telling you how happy I am when you're all alone makes me realize that my words weren't very diplomatic." Excuse me. Listen! My big brother is entering the vicinity. Would you like to meet him?"

"Victoria, stop apologizing so much, Mary cried out in indignation as she broke in on her. I prefer being by myself. I once had the happiest marriage of any woman that ever lived. Even if I never do acquire another baby or marriage, I won't die. I'll just be your baby's Aunt Mary." And Vic, for goodness' sake, stop arranging blind dates for me! That's enough! It would be humiliating if I met your brother and we didn't get along. It would ruin our friendship, and I don't want that."

Mary was attempting to keep her voice low, but the word "single" sent the shudders through her. It made her recall things that she had long suppressed in the backyard of her mind. Who was she teasing? She wanted to be married so she could reawaken her love affair with a man whom she could also love. She just didn't believe she stood a chance because men in their twenties with muscular, lean bodies and long hair were out of purview with the men from her age bracket.

She was white-skinned, had big, brown eyes, and heavy, short black hair, so she stood no chance with such men.

She was independent and strong-willed, and most men felt intimidated.

She read the night paper that evening and went to the personals section before heading home. There they were-a bunch of sensitive, well-dressed men who almost all said they were good marriage material. She must never have dated any great guys if there were that many. Singles bars, adult classes, and blind dates set up by friends were tried by her to no avail.

Victoria said that as a CEO of a real estate company and an income tax company, she was too intimidating. Mary flatly refused to be the vulnerable woman that so many of these men seemed to seek out, even with the suggestion to "tone herself down" due to her fame and stature.

What was she to lose by advertising herself? Nothing. What was there to gain by her? A possible lifetime friend. However, the choice was deceptively taken out of her hands. She wrote her advertisement painstakingly on a sheet of paper.

The next evening, Victoria sat reading it slowly with one hand rubbing her distended belly. "An educated single male between thirty-eight and forty-five is sought by a stunning career woman thirty-eight with a religious background, to dine out, attend plays, and rock and classical concerts. Only serious partners, please."

Victoria furrowed her brow as she gazed up at Mary. "Mary, isn't it a little stodgy? Can't you add a little more pizzazz because you're the language lady?" Her playful scowl made her chuckle. "Victoria, I'm looking for a decent, respectable man of like interests. That advertisement reminds me of my own self, and I'm looking for a marriage partner just as well. I think my advertisement makes it just clear enough."

Victoria agreed but didn't think it made her sound awfully amusing. "Only serious gentlemen, please. Why not stand in for 'I want to marry'?

Mary embraced her warmly as she laughed heartily. Victoria, sorry, I'd like to do things my way. Let me see what kind of replies I receive. I can always place a second ad, one with a little more punch, as you recommended, if there's no interesting response. I don't hope to fall in love at first sight or be carried off by a white knight. I'm a straight-shooting gal!

"Mary, do not be flippant with me. I'm happy that you're taking a step in the best way finally. Marriage is wonderful!"

"You've been going on and on about this for almost eight years as if I'm new at that game. You just get a basketball gut as your reward," Mary sneered.

Victoria snorted, her china blue eyes flashing, "You're just jealous. I bet you'll get pregnant on your wedding night when you do get married," she said.

"Please!" Don't you think we should discuss this a bit first, Victoria? Mary asked in mock modesty.

She laughed and said, "Well, a few words."

For the first time in years, Mary was optimistic and full of energy, and young, so she leased a post office box and mailed out her advertisement. Victoria was a contagious optimist. Even if Mary did not find her "expected lifetime companion," she could still have fun. She had not been on an interesting date in a long time. Early responses left Mary disappointed. She had high expectations for the letters and was shocked when she pulled the first two, hopefully, from her post office box. They were 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 laughed.

"Is your ad as urbane as you? Let's meet and have a drink or two!" He then explained that he was forty and had recently moved into the neighborhood in order to take "a position in a real estate company." He invited me out to dinner the next Saturday night and was an immense fan of the theater, movies, and classical music. His spelling and grammar were perfect, as one would expect from a writer, but she knew from her own writing that numerous writers had only a surface understanding of language. But this one came from the real estate industry. She was truly shocked and delighted! He wrote, "Looking forward to meeting you, Robert." Mary said the name aloud; she really loved the way masculine and debonair it sounded.

Mary replied in a thoughtful, courtly manner, leaving Robert her number and stating she'd thought Saturday worked well. I'm prim, yes, but I'm also prime; I know that we'll have a great time! She appended as a P.S. after licking the envelope after getting a devilish notion which was not very typical of her.

Robert called a few days later. They exchanged brief remarks because of his arrestingly resonant and deep voice. He definitely had a sweet enough voice, but Mary was shaking and doubting her judgment right away. She had been on blind dates previously, but this man was a complete stranger! What if he were a murder-rapist with a police warrant out for his arrest?

But since she was drawn to his pleasant voice and friendly nature, she made her an offer.

"Robert. Would you mind double-dating with some of my friends? I know you had planned to go out by yourself the night."

He stated firmly, "Mary, that's all right with me. Considering you might be a relative of Lizzie Borden. A fellow can't be too careful these days, can he?"

He made her feel somewhat silly, but she called Victoria and asked if Julius and she would like to join them for dinner and a quick trip to the neighborhood carnival. She talked high-pitched with enthusiasm as she talked about Robert.

"He is in real estate and you have one too! Destiny has it! Of course, we will be with you, but since my due date was yesterday, we might end up being at the hospital the entire evening. Oh Mary, I just know it! I am so eager to meet him!" She told Mary that they would talk about it later after the big date because while her energy was contagious, it also gave her a headache. At 4.00 p.m., Robert arrived punctually to pick up Mary. He had a smile that was familiar. He was six feet tall, and muscular. Mary was certain she had seen him before when she first opened the door, but it instantly vanished as fast as a flash of a camera. They smiled at each other. Mary appeared extremely thin and cute because she was wearing a white dress, had worked out sincerely, and lost five pounds. Robert snuck a look at her, and she could spot the satisfaction on his face. They laughed together when they made eye contact with each other. Mary presented him with red wine in a glass and then had a couple of sips herself. The two of them then sat at the table after a toast, after which Mary spent the whole day decorating the table as romantic as she possibly could.

He asked her what she did for a living while they were chatting about his new position. They were comfortable around each other, although they hadn't yet exchanged last names.

All of Mary's past dates were without Robert's wit and inquiring mind. She was looking forward to a serious relationship with this guy to an even higher level. Mary's loins ran hot and blooded, and she shivered. She thought Robert could be a good buddy as well as being attracted to him.

They visited the carnival after they departed to go pick up Victoria and Julius. Victoria and Julius welcomed Robert warmly after Mary had introduced him to them. Victoria's persistent giggling annoyed Mary. Enjoying themselves and appearing out of place, Robert and Mary walked around the carnival grounds. Mary shrieked like a little kid when Robert won her a cuddly plush koala bear. Mary started to wonder if maybe she had been correct in insisting that Julius and Victoria chaperone Robert and herself as they pushed their way behind them, acting like school children.

Because of her health, Victoria was afraid to ride the Ferris wheel, so Robert took Mary by herself. It was a fine view from the top. Below, tens of thousands of twinkling lights were all bobbing their heads in approval of the emerging romance of Robert and Mary. Mary turned around to Robert, and he ran a soft finger down her chin before bestowing a warm kiss on her lips. Mary kissed him back eagerly, with her arms wrapped around his neck and a passionate kiss bestowed on him. It was a gentle kiss. When they laughed, it was a wonderful sound of unadulterated joy as he had her in his arms. They parted reluctantly when the Ferris wheel came to a halt. Robert grinned at her as they kissed once more. As they descended, Mary felt a tad dizzy that was not related to the ride. Did they indeed go through the cliché? Were they the raving, love-at-first-sight victims?

They walked hand in hand down from the Ferris wheel and walked quietly to the seat where Victoria and Julius were waiting for them. They ran the last distance before coming to a halt in a cloud of dust after realizing straight away that Victoria was squatting.

Julius spoke to them in a rush, his face pale, "She's in labor."

Mary laughed nervously and continued, "Well, Victoria said that she may have the baby tonight-she always was late! We should go straight away to the hospital, I suppose."

"Sure," Robert replied hastily, placing his trembling hand in Mary's. I will drive.

Victoria took deep breaths as Julius timed her contractions with the second hand of his watch as they were taken to the parking lot and put in the backseat. Robert drove skillfully, calming the terrified couple with his words. As Mary quietly examined his beautiful profile, he squeezed and stroked her hand from time to time. "Why did he seem so familiar to me? I knew I would have remembered meeting someone this handsome!"

Victoria's labored breathing had now become spasmodic grunts, revealing that the intensity of her labor had increased. Mary gave her a reassuring smile, but she just got a strained grimace in response.

While the ride to the hospital took little time, it felt like an eternity. Before they could get Victoria there and through admissions, motherhood would become a reality. Robert and Mary huddled in two plastic chairs to wait for the announcement as Julius and Victoria vanished down a delivery room under an orange crush of shouted orders and antiseptic scent.

Mary was taken aback by the extent of his concern and worry over the wedding. He had only just met Victoria and Julius, after all. She considered it, but finally concluded that she wouldn't be surprised. Robert was obviously a kind and sympathetic person. Mary was happy to be with him.

Robert exclaimed abruptly, "Mary, I keep thinking you're a beautiful spirit who's going to vanish from my sight."

Mary was stunned, was thinking about him in precisely the same ways!

I understand what you're saying, Robert," she said earnestly. I've been with a guy for more than 10 years and I've had strong feelings about two or three other guys, but today I met you. It's probably alright if I say it out loud, but I think I'm falling for you. Mary watched him hopefully, hoping she hadn't destroyed everything by being so impatient. Mary's hidden strengths were being revealed to him! He must have pulled some good ones because the smile on his face blazed like a signal. They clasped hands and said nothing to one another for a moment. "Mary, I know how you feel. I've been 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 all about. They only want my body." Laughing, Mary hugged him.

"Laugh away; women believe they are the only ones with that kind of problem, but they're not," he said to her. "You, Mary, make me feel like I've found my "Mrs. Right, but I've never been this irresponsible."

"Neither have I," replied Mary. "You make me feel safe. But there is one odd thing: Have we ever met before? If I had to swear-

"Are you two with the Leiths?" A nurse caught them at that very instant.

"Yes!" Robert jumped up from his seat in agitation. "I am Mrs. Leith's brother.

How is she? Is the baby all right?"

Mary was amazed! Victoria's brother! He was nearly her twin, and therefore he seemed so familiar. When Mary tried to say something, her jaw snapped shut once more. The moment wasn't yet to push the issue. Evidently, she was the recipient of a small misrepresentation.

The nurse cheerfully announced, "Mrs. Leith has given birth to a seven-pound, nine-ounce boy, squalling and healthy." Would you care to see him?"

A wailing, purple-faced mouthful of humanity was lifted to the nurse's arms as the two of them trailed behind her to the large window that overlooked the nursery.

He was small. He engaged their attention for a moment or two as they both gazed at him, amazed at his tiny arms, legs, and head as well as his prodigious lung power. Mary went on, "This is my first gift to you, little one. Robert won this koala bear for you. Hello, world!" Before all the helpless babies in the window, Robert swept her up in his arms and kissed her with a passion. I don't know if I can forgive you for lying to me, Mary breathed, looking into his lovely eyes so similar to Victoria's. "In a partnership, honesty is most important in my opinion."

Robert kissed her face, eyes, and neck softly as he murmured, "Oh, I agree." "Victoria suggested that I answer your ad."

Mary clung to him and whispered softly, "I know."

The flustered nurse broke in, "Mrs. Leith would like for you both to go visit her for a few minutes in her room. Both of you will need to wear masks and gowns because we're taking the baby in. As the nurse told us." They tied the loose yellow gowns around them and, grinning, tied masks over mouths and noses.

They stepped into Victoria's colorfully decorated room. It was a tear-jerking scene of Julius lying on the bed with his arm around Victoria's neck and their precious little boy in her arms. Robert and Mary walked toward them hand in hand, and their joy was so palpable that they felt it almost reached out and touch them.

Across her mask, Virginia's eyes were sparkling. Despite the fact that she seemed to be tired, she said, "So, when are you two getting married?" with her usual brightness.

"Tomorrow," replied Robert immediately.

"Whoa! That is a bit too spontaneous, don't you agree?" Mary protested half-heartedly.

Robert grinned and declared, "Spontaneity is now going to rule my life." Fixing Mary intently with his gaze, he traced a finger across the baby's cheek.

We shall not do it earlier than two months from now, Robert. Alright, let us give Victoria time to recover from childbirth." Mary smiled.

* * *

However, the wedding did not hold. Laura, Mary's daughter, was 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."