My Sister's Love

Perhaps my thoughts were too deep, for he said something to which I replied with an "Uh-huh." A second later, I felt myself swept into his embrace, his arms around me.

"God! I've missed you so much," he said before his lips covered mine.

To my surprise, it felt rather good and I relaxed, sliding my arms around him as his lips ravished mine. I responded in turn and I felt that the excitement build within me.

Excitement and more were building in Kendall, and I felt his member swelling and pushing against me. He dropped a hand as it did, cupping my buttock through my dress and pressing me even more tightly against himself.

"Kendall! No!" I exclaimed as I pushed away.

"Sorry, Clara, you excite me so much! You can't imagine how many nights I've stayed awake thinking of you, of what we might be doing together."

He moved his hand back up to my waist and drew me close once more. His lips grazed my neck, giving me a tingle that ran through me before he pushed my shirt back a bit so he could focus on my collar bone. I allowed my eyes to close as I inhaled, enjoying the feeling of his touch and his kisses more than I expected. My hands ran over his back, feeling the muscles below his shirt, surprised at the strength I felt in them.

Kendall's hands were busy, too, with his right slipping back down to my buttock, kneading and massaging me even more than when I'd called him out about it just seconds earlier. His left was also roaming, over my side, up my ribs, and then onto my breast, cupping me below and giving me a gentle squeeze.

My eyes widened as I realized I'd let him go too far and I was about to warn him when his mouth covered mine again and his tongue pushed into me. I twisted to try to free myself and thought I'd gotten out of the worst of it as he took his hand from my bosom, but almost immediately, he flicked the button on my top and slid his hand inside it, pushing my breast up and out the top of my bra. His hand was warm and rough against me as he grabbed, squeezing my fullness and pinching my nipple in a way that both disgusted and excited me.

Kendall's eyes bulged and he tipped forward as my knee connected with his so-called family jewels. It wasn't a great blow, but Mary, who'd instructed me on the mechanics, would have agreed it was enough.

"Kendall, I said 'no' and I meant it. Now, take me home."

It took him a few moments to recover. When he did, he gasped, "I'm sorry, Clara. Forgive me, please?"

I was angry and gritting my teeth as we made our way back to the car. "Kendall, I forgive you for this, but you've got to respect me if we're to continue seeing each other. Don't you get that?"

"Yes, Clara, but it's so hard. I just want you so much."

I glared at him. "We all want things so much but we have to work for what we get and get them when the time's right. Got it?"

He nodded in reply as he continued driving.

When we arrived at my house, he was gentleman enough to help me down out of the T, but told me good evening there rather than walking me to the door. I watched as he drove away, seeing Liza Briggs pushing Billy Junior's carriage down the sidewalk toward their house. We gave a polite wave to each other before I made my way inside.

The bell rang a couple of minutes later as I was enjoying the feel of my bare feet on the hardwood floor. Looking out the door's pane, I saw Liza there holding little Billy; the expression on her face told me that she was troubled about something.

"Mrs. Briggs, hello," I said on opening the door. "May I help you?"

"Call me Liza, please. May I come in and speak with you?"

"Clara," I said, "and sure. Come in and have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I just saw you get out of that yellow car that looks like an overgrown bee."

I laughed, nodding. "You're not wrong on either count," I agreed, still chuckling.

Liza shook her head, looking down at her baby. "No, not about that...I'm sorry, this is...difficult."

"What, Liza? What's wrong?"

"That car? It belongs to a guy named Kendall Grimes, right?"

I hesitated before responding. "Yes?"

Liza was shaking her head. "It's embarrassing but I know Billy Senior's your friend and wouldn't want you hurt." She looked up into my eyes, the courage finally having come to her. "My second cousin, Abigail Zeneski, over on 23rd, she was seeing Kendall during the summer."

The blow to my stomach was stronger than the one I'd given Kendall earlier. He'd promised that he'd waited for me but—

"She found out last week that she's...ahem...having his baby—"

My head was shaking, back and forth, repeatedly—

"—but he claims it's not his, even though he's the only man that she's ever...been with."

"It can't be true," I said, denying the accusation with my words and my head while knowing in my heart that it might actually be. If I'd not stopped Kendall with force less than an hour earlier, how far might it have gone? How far might he have pushed the situation?

"I can't prove it to you," replied Liza, "but I wanted to warn you to protect yourself so it doesn't happen to you like it did Abby. I've known her since we were babies together, and know she wouldn't lie to me about this. I'm sorry. I have to go now."

"Liza? Thank you...for telling me." I let her out with both of us looking gloomily down at our feet.

***

Kendall denied it angrily, but, like most things he did in his life, he wasn't an accomplished liar either. When I trapped him in his lie, he pivoted, accusing Abby Zeneski of entrapping him. While I might never know the whole truth, that was enough and I told Kendall to get out and never come back. His anger showed as I tried to usher him out the door.

"Clara, you'll be alone forever, you fucking bitch, if you push me away!"

Dad, having heard the rising voices, stepped into the door of the foyer.

"No one speaks to my daughter like that," he said, with an anger that I'd never known he possessed. With his shillelagh that he used as a walking stick in hand, he started toward Kendall and looked like he was about to hit him, but I held up my hands as I came between them.

"Dad, put it down. I have this." Turning to Kendall, I added, "I'm in control of my life, not you, and you'll have no say in what I do or don't do. You're dead to me, Kendall, so go, take your poor, dead carcass and that hideous yellow car away from here and never come back."

Kendall glared at me and slammed the door on the way out, stomping down the walk before roaring off in his giant bumblebee car. I watched him go with a sense of relief at escaping my fate but a sense of disappointment at where I found myself. I turned to my father and stepped into his arms as the tears started to flow.

"It will be okay, girlie," he told me. "The bastard doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Thanks, Pa," I said, leading him to give me a tight squeeze as he patted my back. He had a funny smile on his face when we parted, and it was only then that I realized what I'd called him.

***

Chapter 7

The children at school brought me my only joy that fall as I became increasingly convinced that I would indeed be alone forever and actually be better off for it. Fearful of my indiscretions being made known to my school superiors, I made arrangements to speak with Sister Jana Katherine, my former headmistress and career advisor. The nun patted my hand and shook her head after I'd truthfully related my tale in strict confidence. It was then that I pitched an idea that had been on my mind quite frequently since the encounter with Kendall Grimes.

"We would be honored to have you in our order, Clara, but sisterhood isn't an idea in your mind, as you say, but something in your heart, something that takes time and preparation for one to be sure she's ready for a lifetime of commitment."

Already having some degree of doubt, I nodded in understanding, knowing that if it were to happen, it would be years before the process was complete.

The sister continued. "Sisterhood is also not a place to hide from troubles, and particularly when they're of this sort. Dear, you claim that you've given up, but I sense in your words and your demeanor that you desire love more than anything, but...but not just any love, love that's forbidden by the Church. Forbidden love is just that for a reason: it eats at the very soul and destroys you from within and can destroy other parties, too."

"But Sister Jana Katherine, I've put that out of my mind. I've moved past that."

"You say you've moved on, but at your first failure—however much of that was actually your own—you give up and that dark cloud that is your sister's love once again hangs over you like a pall. Remember, Clara, you brought your tale to me for help, so, no matter how you deny it, you know it in your heart."

I hung my head, realizing that she was right. My "background information" to help her understand the problem so she could help me was, in truth, still my problem. "Thank you, Sister Jana Katherine. I think I understand."

"I sincerely hope so, dear, for your own sake as well as that of those around you. You have to face your troubles and work them out, or the time may come when you destroy your relationship with your own sister and your whole family as well as your mortal soul. Please, dear, don't let that happen."

***

My parents and I went to see Mary and her family in Columbus over the Christmas break. It was a short, all-too-quick trip, but I spent a lot of time with Mary and little Christopher. Mary and I talked a lot, and I told her of my amorous troubles without revealing the primary source of my issues lay in her own marital bed.

For ten days, I avoided Leo as much as possible, speaking with him only when necessary, always ruthlessly stamping out the fires of temptation that reignited from time to time in my heart.

Mary was approximately six months along when we said our goodbyes on Friday, January 2nd, 1925, to return by train to Philadelphia. She looked so beautiful and so happy with her little family. Leo was holding an arm around her with little Christopher in his other as the train pulled out. All three waved to us, bunched in our coach window, but I'm sure I saw Leo look at me with sadness, most likely wondering why his wife's little sister now disliked him so much.

***

There was a big snow along the east coast when we arrived at home early the next morning, with about seven inches on the ground in Philadelphia. The pretty white blanketed the city, covering up for a day or two the ever-present dirt and grime. That was much like me during the winter of 1925, as I put on a happy face to hide the sadness within. I knew that I would be needed in Columbus again in the summer to help Mary with her little boy and her new arrival, but I would again have to avoid contact with Leo, faking my happiness to ensure that of him, Mary, and their family. Throughout that time, I continued to think of my discussion with Sister Jana Katherine, and thoughts of taking the habit continued to follow me.

A phone call came to our home on Wednesday, March 4, 1925, and Mom relayed the message to my school. An office worker delivered it just minutes later.

Clara,

Mary is in the hospital. May be there for a while. She needs help with Christopher so Leo can help her. Please, come home soonest.

Mom

I spoke with the school's headmaster and quickly explained the situation. He nodded and gave me personal time off until Monday to sort out the issue. I thanked him and was on my way home.

Mom and I spoke to Leo at the hospital as soon as I got home.

"Please hurry," he said. "Mary started hurting last evening. She said it wasn't bad so we waited, but she went into labor during the night. Our daughter was born a little while ago, but she's several weeks early and they don't know if she'll make it. Kayleigh, I'm very worried about Mary, too. After all she went through last night, she's exhausted and looks so pale, not like herself at all."

"Leo, I've helped with a number of deliveries over the years and I'll tell you this, not one of those women wasn't exhausted and pale when it was over! You have those doctors look in at our Mary and make sure she's okay, but you be there for her and don't spend your time fretting and making her worry, you hear?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"What about Christopher?" I yelled into the mouthpiece. Leo's mother had passed away about two years before and Alex had moved somewhere out west since I'd last seen him.

"He's staying overnight with my cousin, but she works tomorrow, so I'll have to pick him up in the morning. I'm hoping Mrs. Myers can take him tomorrow so I can be here with Mary."

"We'll be there as soon as we can," said Mom. "You take care of Mary and give her our love."

"Yes, Ma'am, will do, and thank you."

Mom and I left for Columbus on the evening train after speaking with Dad. Being one of the managers at the factory, he had to find someone to fill in for him before he'd be able to join us.

***

We rushed into the hospital waiting room in Columbus to see Leo sitting in a chair crying with his head in his hands.

"Leo, how is she?" demanded my mother, always such a strong woman. Unfortunately, I think she knew when she asked. Leo's headshake and his tears melted her reserve, and she fell into his arms and cried when he stood up.

I was crying, too, but I couldn't be around him, so I went to find the nurse.

"Mary Flynn O'Grady, ah, Walsh, my sister," I said. "Leo said..."

"I'm so sorry, Miss. She died about an hour ago. The doctor said it was probably internal hemorrhaging, but we can't say for sure since he hasn't made a final determination."

"But she's so young," I argued. "It can't be—"

"I'm so sorry, Miss, but it happens sometimes, usually quite unexpectedly. The little girl—"

The baby! I'd been so upset I forgot the baby. "Where—"

"—is in the nursery, down the hall. She's in critical care because she's so small."

Baby Girl Walsh, according to her card, was indeed tiny, but she was part of my sister so I, dressed in the robe and mask they'd given me, picked her up and held her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

"Miss, only the mother may hold the little ones," warned a nurse, just entering the unit.

"I'm the closest thing she has to a mother," I growled, in reply, not giving her up. "With my sister dead, what are you feeding her?"

The nurse nodded, taking the hint, and returned minutes later with a warm bottle. I held and rocked Baby Girl Walsh as I fed her, giving what comfort I could to the poor child who would never know the loving arms of her mother.

***

Doctor Carter told us that little Amanda Walsh, as Leo said he and Mary had agreed, probably wouldn't make it, but Leo and I were both determined to prove him wrong. Unable to return to Philadelphia, I resigned my teaching position and spent most of my waking hours holding and feeding that little girl. Leo did the rest, except for during Mary's funeral, a simple graveside service, two days after our arrival. Dad arrived in time for that, so while we were helping Amanda, Mom, with his help, took care of little Christopher at the Walsh residence.

Mary had her nursing books on the shelves in their little library, so I pored over them instead of sleeping, looking for anything on premature infants. When I found little, I visited the Columbus library. On hearing my tale, several of the librarians assisted me in finding everything available. In the end, I felt that Amanda, about four weeks premature but very small, had a much better chance than that stuffy Doctor Carter believed. Deprived early of her mother's comforting womb, Leo and I took shifts holding her almost constantly, feeding her, and talking to her almost nonstop, mostly about her mother, when she was awake.

A week passed, two, and then a third, with Doctor Carter looking in each day and appearing grim. I didn't realize it at the time, but he hadn't missed a day of poking and prodding the little girl, prewarming his stethoscope's head inside the collar of his own shirt, checking her weight and her responses.

By day 24, we were all nearing the point of exhaustion, but Doctor Carter called us together for a family meeting in the hall outside the nursery. For the first time ever, I saw the man smiling.

"Congratulations. Little Amanda reached five pounds today. She's now the equivalent of a full-term baby. A small one, mind you, but full-term."

"What do you mean, Doc?" asked Leo.

"She's out of the woods, at least as far as her prematurity. She needs a few more days to put on a little more weight, but she'll be going home soon just like a regular child."

Leo hugged me, so tight and comfortingly, I believed for the moment he thought he was holding Mary. A shiver passed through him then, as if a reminder or maybe remembering.

"Oh, sorry, Clara, but thank you so much for all you've done for her. She wouldn't have made it without you and all you did."

"She's my niece, Leo, my only niece. I wasn't going to let her go without a fight."

"I appreciate that so much, Clara, and I'm really glad you were on her side."

***

Little Amanda came home a few days later. We all did what we could to help, with Mom and me working out a schedule of care for both children, but it was immediately obvious that Leo wouldn't be able to do it all on his own and hold his position in his law firm. His partners were already screaming for his return even after just over a month's leave of absence.

We sat in the living room one night and talked. Dad and Mom had to return to Philadelphia, leaving me as the only solution I could see to the problem. "I love them already as if they were my own, so I'll stay and be the kids' nanny. It's the least I can do for Mary, as well as for them."

"I can't ask you to do that, Clara," said Leo, his heart clearly broken over her loss.

"You're not asking, Leo; I'm telling," I said. "Unless you literally push me out the front door and lock it behind me, it's settled."

"Thank you," he mumbled, unsuccessfully fighting off the tears.

***

Chapter 8

We became something of a strange household, with Leo and me caring for the children but giving each other as wide a berth as possible as we grieved the loss of Mary in our own ways. Our faces wore happy smiles when we were with Christopher and Amanda, but those melted away as quickly as snow in July when the kids were in their beds, for we could offer each other no comfort against our pains.

It was a relatively rare event when Leo sat down in the chair across from me one night and asked, "How did Amanda's appointment go today?"

I wanted to rant at him for missing it, but knew that his legal cases were important, whatever they were, and that her care during the day was my sole reason for being there. I held my tongue and replied, "The doctor said she's doing well. Her weight's up to 7 pounds 6 ounces, and she's hitting her milestones."

"Good. And her food?"

I gave him the new instructions and he nodded and said, "Thanks," but no more.

Our conversations were usually like that, short and terse, focusing primarily on the children or occasionally our household needs. Leo didn't wish to talk of his loss, nor did I, but I was also concerned about my attempts to be drawn closer to him in anything but a platonic way. As much as I'd once loved him when I was younger, things were different now from an adult perspective. Anything approaching romance, no matter what had gone before, was a betrayal of Mary's memory, so I distanced myself from him, and he, in turn, did the same with me, though neither of us admitted it to the other.

Mrs. Myers, our cook and part-time housekeeper, became an even more valued go-between, though the looks she sometimes gave me spoke volumes on her opinion about the matter. She became our confidant, listening to our words, perhaps to allow us to hear them and their silliness aloud, but never passing along anything other than what was requested.