Bygones Read Online Free PDF

unable, so Lisa made the move. Once Bess felt her daughter's arms around her, however, she clung, feeling her emotions billow, her tears come close to exposing themselves. Her precious firstborn, her Lisa, who had learned to drink from a straw before she was one, who had carried a black doll named Gertrude all over the neighborhood until she was five, and, dressed in feet pajamas, had clambered into bed between her mommy and daddy on Saturday mornings when she got old enough to climb out of her crib unaided.
    Lisa, whom she and Michael had wanted so badly.
    Lisa, the product of those optimistic times.
    Lisa, who now carried their grandchild.
    Bess clutched Lisa and whispered throatily, “I love you, Lee-lee,” the pet name Michael had given her long ago, in a golden time when they'd all believed they'd live happily ever after.
    â€œI love you, too, Mom.”
    â€œI just need a little time, please, darling.”
    â€œI know.”
    Michael stood waiting with the door open, touched by Bess's use of the familiar baby name.
    Bess drew back, squeezing Lisa's arm. “Get lots of rest. I'll call you.”
    She passed Michael and headed down the hall, clasping her clutch purse under one arm, pulling on her gloves, her raspberry high heels clicking on the tiled floor. He closed the apartment door and followed, buttoning his coat, turning up its collar, watching her speed along with an air of efficiency, as if she were late for a business appointment.
    At the far end of the hall she descended two stairs before her bravado dissolved. Abruptly she stopped, gripped the rail with one hand and listed over it, the other hand to her mouth, her back to him, crying.
    He stopped on the step above her with his hands in his coat pockets, watching her shoulders shake. He felt melancholy himself, and witnessing her display of emotions amplified his own. Though she tried to stifle them, tiny mewling sounds escaped her throat. Reluctantly, he touched her shoulder blade. “Aw, Bess . . .”
    Her words were muffled behind a gloved hand. “I'm sorry, Michael, I know I should be taking this better . . . but it's such a disappointment.”
    â€œOf course it is. For me, too.” He returned his hand to his coat pocket.
    She sniffed, snapped her purse open and found a tissue inside. Still with her back turned, mopping her face, she said, “I'm appalled at myself for breaking down in front of you this way.”
    â€œOh, hell, Bess, I've seen you cry before.”
    She blew her nose. “When we were married, yes, but this is different.”
    With the tissue tucked away and her purse again beneath an arm she turned to face him, touching her lower eyelids with the fingertips of her expensive raspberry leather gloves. “Oh, God,” she said, and emptied her lungs in a big gust. She drooped back with her hips against the black metal handrail and fixed her tired stare on the opposite railing.
    For a while neither of them spoke, only stood in the murky hallway, helpless to stop their daughter's future from taking a downhill dive. Finally Bess said, “I can't pretend this is anything but terrible, our only daughter and a shotgun wedding.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œDo you feel like you've failed again?” She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, shiny at the corners with a new batch of tears.
    He drew a deep, tired breath and took stock of their surroundings. “I don't think I want to discuss it in the hallway of this apartment building. You want to go to a restaurant, have a cup of coffee or something?”
    â€œNow?”
    â€œUnless you really have to hurry home.”
    â€œNo, that was just an excuse to escape. My first appointment isn't until ten in the morning.”
    â€œAll right, then, how about The Ground Round on White Bear Avenue?”
    â€œThe Ground Round would be fine.”
    They turned and continued down the stairs, lagging now, slowed by distress.