The Pendant, Chapter Six

by Emily in Massachusetts

Author's Note: Here it is...Been a while since I wrote in The Pendant, but I'm picking it up now.

I held her in my arms without moving for the longest time. I stared at the clock on the stove, not actually seeing the time. Faintly, I could hear Mom’s shallow breathing- but that was it. I felt my fingernails digging into her soft flesh, but she didn’t flinch. I desperately squeezed her. Trying…just trying.

“Mom,” I repeated over and over again, as if that would make her better, “Please.”

Tears were streaming down my face now, cascading down my crumpled face and onto Mom’s hair. They weren’t normal tears- the kind that run in a curved pattern, sometimes pushing at your lips. They caressed my cheeks, not even stopping to topple down my neck. Instead, they fell gracefully off. Landing on Mom’s figure. I didn’t stop to contemplate this. I just cried harder. I took in a breath, letting out a shudder that rippled through me. Coursing so violently I was afraid I was going to fall over in a sobbing heap. The sorrow that leaded me was just too much to bear.  

I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes I was sprawled across my bed. Fumbling around, I stood up, looking at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were a puffy red and swollen, and my cheeks were stained with tears. I didn’t bother washing my face before running towards Mom’s room. Empty. Her midnight blue duvet was made up expertly, as if no one had slept there last night. I figured mom hadn’t. Looking at her bedside table, the bright red numbers jumped out from her clock. 4:16. I crept over, suddenly having the courtesy of not waking Molly up. Beside the clock lay an envelope; the snowy white sheen of paper was expertly creased. It was addressed to Mr. Thompson- I never heard of him.

The letter or whatever it was wasn’t sealed, so I slipped out the paper inside. Written in Mom’s neat script was a formal letter.

Dear Eric,

I’m terribly sorry I never had the time to thank you properly for all you have done, considering what has happened over the last few days. I’m afraid, however, the tables have turned and I must leave. I hope you can find it in your heart to look after the children. It’s what Judy would have wanted. I do realize that we do not have the best of relationships, but you are their only relatives. They need to be protected.

I suppose I should explain.

Last night what we have been expecting finally happened. I just wish we could have put it off a bit longer. You know Leah is an inquisitive child. Who knows what she may find next. Warren and I finally let it spill in front of Leah. Not the entire story, but enough that she’ll be curious. It’ll be dangerous if she or Molly were to uncover what we’ve been hiding for so long- for all of us.

So I ask, please help. I know it isn’t in your best interest- but please. Do it for Judy. Or for Marie.

I have to leave, time is running out. If this finds its way to you, give the enclosed package inside to the girls.

                                                                                               With Heavy Regards,

                                                                    Laurel

I dropped the letter, without seeing it. “Molly!” I screamed.

I didn’t know I was crying until Molly appeared in the doorway, looking half asleep, and irritated. “Molly,” I cried, picking up the letter, “Read this.”

I watched through my tears as her face slowly crumpled, throwing almost angrily on the duvet once she was done. I ran to her. She hugged me. And together we cried, because we had lost.

It seemed like forever that we clung to each other. I didn’t want to let go. Molly was my life raft that kept me from drowning. I could tell she felt that way too. Wrapping one arm around her tightly, I picked up the letter for the second time. Something fell out.

It was a picture of a young woman with eccentric orange and a warm smile. Her face was rosy, as if she were standing in the cold. Hey eyes were pale gray, there was something about them that I couldn’t place. The picture was cut into a small neat circle, the edges a bit frayed.

Molly shook her head at the picture. She didn’t know either. The smiling woman just stared.