Read Online Burden of Memory by Vicki Delany - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vicki Delany
Ads: Link
and read what she wants in the boxes. You need your rest.”
Moira lifted her right hand and hit the glass with enough strength to knock it flying out of Ruth’s hand. It struck the sharp edge of the desk and shards of glass and droplets of water flew through the air.
“Don’t you tell me what to do,” Moira shrieked. “I’m not a baby, do you hear me? Do you? I don’t need to rest five minutes after I’ve started. Go and clean up that mess and then leave us alone. I’m sure you can find something useful to do, if you put your mind to it.”
Ruth burst into tears and fled from the room. Elaine scrambled to her knees to pick up the sharp pieces of glass, more to hide her embarrassment than from any desire to be useful.
“Leave that,” Moira snapped. “Ruth will do it. I don’t know why I put up with her. Incompetent fool.”
Ruth chose that moment to slip back into the room, bearing pail and cleaning cloth. She gathered the bits of debris and mopped up the spilled water silently and efficiently. Her hands trembled.
“Where were we? Oh, yes.” Moira settled back into her chair. “I had scarcely begun talking to Donna, what with the arrival of my sisters and their families for the Labor Day weekend. So I am starting this from scratch. Tell me if I get too boring. I don’t have many letters saved from when I was a girl. Simply because there weren’t many. I lived with my mother and father. They sent my brother Ralph away to boarding school, but we girls stayed at home. There were four children. Ralph was the oldest, and my mother’s favorite. She absolutely adored that boy. Even all these years later I can remember how jealous I was at the fuss and attention Ralph got when he came home for school holidays. To my father and grandfather, he represented the future of the company and the family. Ralph would be trained to follow in their footsteps every step of the way.”
“Did you resent him?”
“No, I didn’t. Does that surprise you? I should have, but instead I idolized him. Everyone loved Ralph. He died in the war. So sad, such a tragic waste. My grandfather died the day after they got the news, and my mother was never quite the same again.” She breathed deeply and stared into another space and time. Elaine did not interrupt, but made a quick note to find out more about the doomed Ralph. Paragons were rarely quite what they seemed. Ruth finished tidying up and left the room. Moira missed her resentful glare, but Elaine didn’t. It would seem that she had made an enemy, through no actions of her own.
“And then there were the three girls. I came first. Moira, the willful one, my mother called me. Maeve arrived right after me, the attractive one. She was quite pretty, but never the stunning creature my family pretended. Of course, with our money, if they said a donkey was a great beauty everyone would have bayed in agreement.
“And Megan, the baby. The talented one. She played the piano. Quite well, actually. If she wasn’t so spoiled she might have achieved something in the world of music. Do you notice anything about our names?”
“They all begin with M. A coincidence?”
“Not at all. My mother thought of herself as a poet. She wrote quite a bit, although she never showed anyone her work. She burned everything not long before she died. I often think about the significance of that. That huge body of work, never seen by another soul. Tragic, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”
“She loved alliterations. I suspect she only married my father for his last name. She certainly didn’t love him. And she didn’t need to marry him for his money. Her family had quite enough of their own, thank you very much. Her name was Mary Margaret. But her last name was boring old Brown. After their marriage, she wrote or embroidered ‘MMM’ on absolutely everything—towels, stationery, linens. She would have loved to have lived to see the year 2000.”
“Why?”
“MM, of course. Roman numerals for
Moira lifted her right hand and hit the glass with enough strength to knock it flying out of Ruth’s hand. It struck the sharp edge of the desk and shards of glass and droplets of water flew through the air.
“Don’t you tell me what to do,” Moira shrieked. “I’m not a baby, do you hear me? Do you? I don’t need to rest five minutes after I’ve started. Go and clean up that mess and then leave us alone. I’m sure you can find something useful to do, if you put your mind to it.”
Ruth burst into tears and fled from the room. Elaine scrambled to her knees to pick up the sharp pieces of glass, more to hide her embarrassment than from any desire to be useful.
“Leave that,” Moira snapped. “Ruth will do it. I don’t know why I put up with her. Incompetent fool.”
Ruth chose that moment to slip back into the room, bearing pail and cleaning cloth. She gathered the bits of debris and mopped up the spilled water silently and efficiently. Her hands trembled.
“Where were we? Oh, yes.” Moira settled back into her chair. “I had scarcely begun talking to Donna, what with the arrival of my sisters and their families for the Labor Day weekend. So I am starting this from scratch. Tell me if I get too boring. I don’t have many letters saved from when I was a girl. Simply because there weren’t many. I lived with my mother and father. They sent my brother Ralph away to boarding school, but we girls stayed at home. There were four children. Ralph was the oldest, and my mother’s favorite. She absolutely adored that boy. Even all these years later I can remember how jealous I was at the fuss and attention Ralph got when he came home for school holidays. To my father and grandfather, he represented the future of the company and the family. Ralph would be trained to follow in their footsteps every step of the way.”
“Did you resent him?”
“No, I didn’t. Does that surprise you? I should have, but instead I idolized him. Everyone loved Ralph. He died in the war. So sad, such a tragic waste. My grandfather died the day after they got the news, and my mother was never quite the same again.” She breathed deeply and stared into another space and time. Elaine did not interrupt, but made a quick note to find out more about the doomed Ralph. Paragons were rarely quite what they seemed. Ruth finished tidying up and left the room. Moira missed her resentful glare, but Elaine didn’t. It would seem that she had made an enemy, through no actions of her own.
“And then there were the three girls. I came first. Moira, the willful one, my mother called me. Maeve arrived right after me, the attractive one. She was quite pretty, but never the stunning creature my family pretended. Of course, with our money, if they said a donkey was a great beauty everyone would have bayed in agreement.
“And Megan, the baby. The talented one. She played the piano. Quite well, actually. If she wasn’t so spoiled she might have achieved something in the world of music. Do you notice anything about our names?”
“They all begin with M. A coincidence?”
“Not at all. My mother thought of herself as a poet. She wrote quite a bit, although she never showed anyone her work. She burned everything not long before she died. I often think about the significance of that. That huge body of work, never seen by another soul. Tragic, don’t you think?”
“Yes.”
“She loved alliterations. I suspect she only married my father for his last name. She certainly didn’t love him. And she didn’t need to marry him for his money. Her family had quite enough of their own, thank you very much. Her name was Mary Margaret. But her last name was boring old Brown. After their marriage, she wrote or embroidered ‘MMM’ on absolutely everything—towels, stationery, linens. She would have loved to have lived to see the year 2000.”
“Why?”
“MM, of course. Roman numerals for
Similar Books
