A Mother to Love

She swung open the front door, a smile on her lips, but her jaw dropped. “Rema.”

“Did I frighten you?” Rema stared at her, her hand on the screen door handle.

“No, not really.” She regained her senses and pushed open the door. “I wasn’t expecting anyone. I’m a mess.” She gestured to her dusty jeans and soiled knit top. “I’ve spent the day toting flower flats and plants. I was about to take a shower.”

Rema took a step deeper into the house. “I dropped by to give you some brochures about Owosso. Remember? You’d asked and I happened to be near the chamber of commerce, so I stopped.”

Angie grasped the stack of colorful leaflets, pleased Rema had remembered. “Thanks so much.”

“Happy to do it, and I also wanted to tell you how excited I was to see you bringing home all the new plants. They will really make a difference. The previous owner didn’t do much. I think last year he planted marigolds. Yellow ones. They remind me of dandelions.”

Angie chuckled, recalling her conversation with Carly. “They do resemble them a little, but some of the outside critters stay away from them. They don’t like the smell.”

“The critters have better taste than the grouchy neighbor. Now I look forward to seeing lovely flower beds.” Rema grinned, which looked strange on her since her brow was often furrowed with sadness. She took another step toward the living room as if she planned to stay.

Recalling the elderly neighbor’s comment about Rema, Angie didn’t have the heart to turn her out despite her need to shower and change her clothes. “Would you like to come in for a couple of minutes? As you can see, I really need a makeover.”

Rema didn’t respond. As if missing the hint, she took another step deeper inside, her eyes aimed at the living room.

“Let’s go to the kitchen. I hate to sit in there covered with dirt. Anyway, it’s closer to the coffeepot. Or would you prefer a glass of lemonade.”

“Lemonade sounds nice.”

Rema followed her into the kitchen and settled on one of the chairs. “I saw that man again. Your coworker.”

She nodded, not wanting to get into her relationship with Rick. She kept her back to Rema as she pulled glasses from the cabinet and lifted the lemonade pitcher from the refrigerator. When she filled the glasses, she carried them to the table and joined Rema.

“This time he had a little girl with him.”

“Carly. She’s five.”

A faint frown eased to her face. “Is he married?”

The question had a curious tone, not judgmental as much as troubled.

“He’s divorced. It was his wife’s decision, I believe.”

“Divorced.” She pressed her lips together. “I see.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “It’s difficult when children are involved.” She glanced away. “It makes me happy I don’t have children even though I’d always wanted them.”

Angie gathered the puzzle pieces, hoping to decipher the message wrapped up in her comments. “But you’re not divorced, Rema, are you? I thought—”

“No.” She shook her head back and forth as if she forgot how to stop. “No, but I feel as if I am sometimes.”

Another puzzle piece. “I don’t understand.”

“My husband travels for the company, and he has late business meetings when he’s home. I spend much of my time...” She gave her head one more shake and stopped. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear my sad story.”

The comment made her think of Rick’s wife, who traveled for her career. “I have no advice, Rema, but I can listen.” As the words left her mouth, she wished she’d not spoken. But she’d said exactly what a caring person should say. Rick would have listened for hours. She wished she were more like him.

“I think sometimes I scare people away with my negative attitude.” Moisture formed in Rema’s eyes. “I have to learn to make the best of things and not be so suspicious.”

Suspicious. Angie could only guess what that meant, and she steered away from the topic. “Sometimes we spend our time with things that give us pleasure and then feel guilty.” Words flapped from her mouth without thought. She knew so little about being alone, because it didn’t usually bother her. She’d found comfort in the quiet. But had she really enjoyed being alone or only found it an easy answer to her singleness? “Do you have hobbies or activities that you enjoy?”

“No. Trey likes me home...” She faltered. “But a hobby is a good idea.”

Trey wanted her home. Why? The obvious answer made her sick—that he wanted to control his wife a little too much. “Community colleges provide classes for lifelong learning. Libraries offer fun classes—journaling and scrapbooking. Yarn shops teach knitting, and stained-glass stores often have classes. You can even learn to tap-dance.”

Rema chuckled. “I’ll have to give it some thought. Classes could fill up a lonely evening.”

Her heart in her throat, Angie managed a pleasant grin. “You can even learn a job skill. Have you ever thought of—” Her cell phone’s ringtone sounded, and she glanced at the ID. “It’s my mom, Rema. I should answer.”

“Take it and thanks for the ideas.” Rema rose and gave a wave as Angie hit the answer button. “Hi, Mom. My neighbor is just leav—”

“Connie said she called about a nice fellow she knows, but you said you’re dating someone. Why haven’t you told us about this? You know I want—”

“Mom, you want more grandkids, I know.” Angie rose and headed toward the front door to wave goodbye to Rema. “But please let me fall in love first.”

“Who is he? What’s his name?”

She saw Rema already across the street and heaved a sigh. “I’m not in love. I said I’d like to fall in love before having children.” Though no one was there to see her, she rolled her eyes.

“Remember, Angie, you’re thirty-three. Child bearing is—”

“Mom.” She tripped over her exasperation. “Let’s start with falling in love and getting married first. Okay?”

“But Connie said you’re dating someone.”

The lie bit her again. “I told her I was seeing someone. I didn’t say ‘dating.’”

“What’s the difference?”

Angie closed her eyes and drew in a lengthy breath. “Could we talk about this another time? I was at the nursery all day with Rick...for flowers for my garden, and—”

“Rick.” The sound of triumph flew through the phone. “So that’s his name. When can we meet him?”

“Not today. He’s gone, and I’m dirty from toting flower flats. How about if I talk with you tomor...another time. I can tell you more then.”

A puff of air traveled through the phone. “Finally, you’re willing to tell us about him. Okay, but don’t wait too long. Remember your age and—”

“Another time, Mom. I really have to take a shower. Love you.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

She hit the end-call button before her mother could ask another question. Ignoring her dirty jeans, she plopped onto the sofa and eyed the carpet. She hated treating her mother that way, but Connie and their mom wouldn’t take no for an answer. Her mother still thought of her girls as teenagers, coming home after a date and facing a grilling session even though Connie was now a mom. Not that her mother didn’t trust them. She enjoyed hearing of their dates and made the reveries hers.

Angie pressed her back against the cushion, her mind knotted in her mother’s curiosity and Rema’s marriage struggle. She couldn’t help but think of the sweet elderly neighbor down the street, filled with more wisdom than anyone. His name had slipped her mind, but his comment had stuck with her—many neighbors were nice. That was what he’d said, and she was certain he would put Rema on that list.

She smacked the side of her head. Elwood. That was his name. He’d said to call him El, and she would since she needed a wise friend on Lilac Circle. Maybe she could steer Rema down the block to talk with him. Everyone needed a special friend, a confidant, and especially a wise one.