My Sister's Love

I was coming down the back stair to the kitchen one evening when I heard Leo speaking with her, so I turned to go back up when I caught his comment and stopped.

"...a mistake. We didn't realize it at the time—maybe we'd have done it differently if we had—but we both wanted it. And wanted her. It's obvious now from what happened, but I hate that Clara blames me. I'd do anything to swap places with Mary, for she saved me once and gave me months and years that I wouldn't have otherwise had, but I couldn't do anything for her when it truly counted."

"But you did, Leonard. You loved her and shared your life with her for a little while. That's what Mrs. Mary wanted more than anything in the world. You gave her that, and you gave her that little boy and then the little girl, too, but then her time was up. Yours, and your responsibility, aren't, though, so you have to keep on and do your best."

He was silent, or else speaking so low I couldn't hear him, until she spoke again some seconds later. "She's grieving, too, in her own way; if she's blaming you, which I don't believe, she'll come to see the error of her ways someday. Just give her time, okay?"

Realizing what they were saying, I quickly tiptoed back up the stairs, hoping they wouldn't squeak to announce my presence and give away my eavesdropping.

***

Christmas 1925 was a difficult time, with Mary's ghost casting long shadows over all of us, so much so that even the promise of Santa couldn't overcome them in Christopher's mind. At nearly three years of age, he sorely missed his mother, but would often hug me and hold me for long periods as I told him tales about her, trying to instill them in his memory. Even then, I sometimes wondered if he was confusing my tales and those Leo told of her as being about myself, so we tried to maintain the focus on her, often having her picture by us as we spoke. Amanda, of course, would never know her mother, but I hoped that Mary's memory would live on in Christopher's mind, even if only through the stories we told him.

Leo brought home a little Christmas tree and we decorated it on Christmas Eve, with Christopher seeming to eat almost as much popcorn as we were able to string. We laughed and teased him, but I felt little joy in my heart about what the season meant without Mary being there to enjoy it with us. When the popcorn strands were strung and those strands and some red ribbon were wrapped around the tree, Leo brought out a box.

"These were the ornaments that...that Mary had collected. She loved them and wanted to add more each year. Each one is a special memory."

Pretty, painted glass balls and crafted ornaments, each carefully wrapped in tissue paper to protect them in storage, filled the box. Leo unwrapped the first and hung it on the tree. He nodded for me to do the same, as he helped Christoper hang another.

We were nearing the bottom of the box when I reached to hang a gold orb in a bare spot on the tree as Leo reached out to hang a red one in the same spot. His hand accidentally grazed mine and the feeling was electric. I jerked away in surprise, dropping the gold ball only to see it rolling down the side of the tree. I grabbed for it but got in Leo's way as he too tried to grab it, and we both looked on as it fell free to shatter on the hardwood floor.

The pretty ball, now broken, was another lost memory of happier times when Mary was the glue that tied our family together. The shattered glass, thin and slivered, littered the floor, reminding me of the loss of Mary but also the mess my life had become. Where once I had been confident at least in my teaching ability if not in my romantic pursuits, now my confidence was nowhere in sight. Practically glued to the floor where I stood, my tears, always so close to the surface, bubbled forth as Leo grabbed little Christopher up to keep him away from the broken shards.

"Clara! Are you okay?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry," I sobbed, as I finally forced my feet to move. Turning, I ran up to my room, went up the stairs, and locked my door before throwing myself on my bed.

Gentle rapping on my door brought me out of my stupor. "Please, go away."

"Clara, the children want you. Please come kiss them goodnight."

I dried my eyes and opened the door to find the hall empty. Leo was gone so I was about to go downstairs when I saw Christopher peeking out of Amanda's room. He grinned at me before ducking back inside.

Amanda was asleep and Leo was putting her down in her crib. "Goodnight, sweet Amanda," he whispered before giving her a kiss and tucking her in the crib.

Christopher looked in at his sister through the bars, fighting off a yawn. On seeing me come up behind him, he grabbed my leg, hugging me, so I picked him up and he threw his arms around me.

I kissed two fingers and lightly brushed the back of Amanda's head down her blonde hair, far lighter than my own. He wanted to do it, too, so I put my fingers to his lips and stroked her hair for him, too. Even as I did, I felt Leo's eyes boring uncomfortably into me, so I turned and carried Christopher to his room, unable to look back at the man who'd once meant so much to me, even if only at a distance.

When Christopher's prayer was said and he was in bed, we stepped out of his room and I mumbled "Goodnight" before heading toward my room.

"Clara? Are you okay? I know it's tough now but everything will be okay someday."

I nodded as I walked away, even though I didn't really believe him.

The next morning, Santa had a gift for each of them under the tree, as did Leo, me, and Mrs. Myers. My parents sent presents, too, and a package even showed up for each of them from their uncle Alex in California. Christopher enjoyed playing with his new toys, scurrying around the house, while Amanda looked wide-eyed on the excitement and her new baubles.

After tucking the children in bed that evening at the end of a very long day, I turned to go to my room, but Leo touched my arm.

"Clara, wait. May I speak with you downstairs?"

"Leo, can it wait? I'm very tired."

"I'm sorry. Here." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small box. "Mary would have wanted you to have this. And so do I."

I opened the box to see Mary's gold locket and I shook my head. Louder than intended, I replied, "No! This was hers!"

"Yes, it was, but it's yours now. Open it."

He said it with authority so I slowly opened it to see a photo of Christopher on the left and one of little Amanda, taken very recently, on the right. "Clara, she loved that locket, but she loved her children more. She'd want you to take them with you always, in your heart and over it, just as she would if she was here in person."

I looked at my little nephew and niece in the locket before closing it and giving it a little kiss. I held it to my heart and looked at Leo as I fought off tears. "I...I don't know what to say."

It was a smile, a tiny one, but the first that had passed between the two of us in months. "Say goodnight, Clara. Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Leo. And thank you."

He nodded and headed downstairs, while I retired to my room, still clutching the locket in my hand. Starting the next day, I wore it almost constantly.

***

My parents arrived in mid-January to celebrate Christopher's 4th birthday. Leo put on a happy face to greet them when he picked them up at the station; mine may have fooled Dad, but Mom hooked my elbow and steered me aside once we got home.

"Clara, what's wrong? Are you ill? Has something happened?"

I tried to shake my head, to say that nothing was wrong and all was well, but if lying to myself was difficult, lying to my mother was even harder. She pulled me close and patted my back as if I was Christoper's age once again while my tears flowed.

"Kayleigh, what's wrong?" asked Dad when he entered the room, but Mom waved him off.

"It's okay, Tom. Clara needs her mother for a moment or two."

It was much more than that. For the next ten days, I spent as much time with my parents and the children as I could, generally avoiding Leo to the extent possible. Mom and I talked a lot, but I skirted the issue where it came to Leo, never admitting to my past infatuation or how hard it was to spend time with him and maintain the proper distance to avoid impropriety.

Leo took leave on the day before they left for home to spend more time with them together with the children. Mom was upstairs packing while the children were down for their afternoon nap so I went looking for Dad. I heard his voice in the study, where Leo often worked late at night after the children were asleep, so I headed that way only to stop outside the door.

"—to all of us, and she'll always be in our heart, but ten months or ten years, she's gone, Leo. We're all suffering because we all loved her in our own way, but each of us has to let her go that way, too. We've all got to move on, son, and that includes you. Oh, maybe not this month, maybe not next, but sooner or later, the time comes and you'll have to do it, for yourself and for the children. They need a real mother, you need a partner, and Clara needs to move on with her life, too, since she can't be the nanny to her sister's children forever. It's not good for her and not good for them, either."

It felt like a blow to the stomach. My father, my own flesh and blood, was trying to not only separate me from Leo but from the children, too! I walked away, quickly and quietly.

***

Chapter 9

I could barely speak to my dad after that, but something happened over the next few months following my parents' departure for home. It was slow and unnoticeable from day to day, but by the end of the period, Leo had become a different man. The dark, brooding sadness he'd tried to hide publicly since Mary's death had been replaced by the brighter Leo, the man who'd been through so much and who so looked forward to living.

I noticed it first with the children. He was more relaxed and seemed to enjoy his time with them rather than seeing them as constant reminders of their loss and what had once been. He even seemed more open with me, but that worried me, forcing me to withdraw further to avoid the impropriety that concerned me so.

I finally had to face it on entering the kitchen early one morning in early April as Leo was preparing to leave for work. He was speaking with Mrs. Myers, but turned on hearing me enter.

"Clara, glad you're here. I was just telling Mrs. Myers that I'd be home late this evening."

Another big case, I was sure. "Don't work too late. The children will want to see their father for at least a little while before bedtime."

"It won't be that late. I'm going to dinner with someone."

"A client who doesn't like lunch?"

"No," he said with a frown. "Miss Cynthia Albertson. You may have seen her picture in the newspaper. I ran into her last week for the first time since before the War so we decided to get together. Please get the kids their baths this evening and I'll be home in time to play with them between then and bedtime."

It was sharper than he'd ever spoken to me, and it hurt, like a dagger to the back. "Yes, sir," I replied, with a surly spin that would probably have gotten me fired if I'd been anything more than the sister of his late wife. I quickly went back upstairs before he had time to hurt me more.

***

Over the next month, I came to realize how much I hated my life and the mess I'd become. Whereas once I'd cared deeply for Leo when I knew I couldn't have him, now that he was evidently available again, we'd come to hate each other. I'd once been reasonably strong, but now I cried almost daily, sometimes more than once, about my plight. I tried to hide it, but I thought Mrs. Myers suspected and knew that little Christopher did.

"Do you have an ow-wie, Aunt Clara?" he asked one day.

When I nodded and held my hand over my heart, he asked, "Can I kiss it and make it better?"

"Just you asking makes it feel better, sweetheart. You can give me a kiss here, though," I said, pointing to my cheek.

He did, a sweet little peck, before looking at Amanda. "Can 'Manda give you one, too?"

I grinned. "She sure can. Here, help me hold her and well put her up next to my cheek, too."

While he wasn't holding any real weight, just participating made him happy, and Amanda, perpetually teething, gave me a wet sloppy thing that made us both laugh and her giggle even before I blew on her belly and tickled her lightly in response.

Leo's dates with Miss Cynthia Albertson had become more frequent, so I wasn't too surprised that evening when he told Mrs. Myers and me that she would be coming to dinner on Saturday night to meet the children.

"Do you think that's a good idea? It may confuse them unless you plan to marry her," I said, disagreeing strongly with the idea, but his response shocked me even more than the initial idea.

"I'm not ruling out the possibility that we could marry someday, so yes, I think it's appropriate. Please plan to dress them in something nice for dinner on Saturday."

While their first date had been painful, this was much worse. "Yes, Captain," I choked, barely getting the honorific out. It happened again as I added, "Anything else, sir?"

He frowned at me and started to say something else, but Mrs. Myers interrupted, asking something about the menu since she'd have to go shopping the next day to get everything needed. I saw her flash me a compassionate look as I took the opportunity to flee.

***

Saturday was difficult, but the children and I were ready at the appointed time. They each wore their finest outfit while I was dressed in something nice that wouldn't be ruined if Amanda threw up on it or Christopher ran greasy fingers across it. My locket and the earrings Mary had given me were my only jewelry, and my long, blonde hair was wrapped in a bun on my head as a sort of rebellion against the short, bobbed hair that had become so popular.

Miss Cynthia Albertson was my polar opposite. She was beautiful, her clothes, shoes, and hair very stylish, and her taste in those and her expensive jewelry showed resources far beyond anything to which I might ever aspire. Based on my reading of the society pages of the newspaper over recent weeks, I knew that to be true. Miss Albertson was the only child of a wealthy businessman and she was also the founder, editor, and publisher of a successful, regional women's magazine.

We gathered in the living room for the introductions to the children, and Miss Albertson sat primly on the couch next to Leo, her knees so tight together that a piece of paper wouldn't have fit between them. I could see this since her blue skirt, properly tucked, of course, stopped at her knee, with her long, shapely calves trailing down at an angle to matching heels with no front strap that made me wonder how she kept them from falling off.

I sat on the edge of the settee on the opposite side from them, holding Amanda sitting upright on my knee and trying to get Christopher to sit down but having him weave around in front of me, from side to side.

After Leo introduced the children, Miss Albertson said, "Oh, Leo, they're so darling!"

"Thank you, Cynthia. And this is Clara O'Grady, my late wife's little sister, who cares for them."

"It's very nice to meet you, Miss O'Grady. I'm sorry for your loss and am sure Captain Walsh appreciates your assistance."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Miss Albertson. As for Leo's appreciation, I didn't give up my classroom and students for that. These children are my family."

I was trying to keep a happy face, but maybe it wasn't enough, for Christopher turned around and gave me a kiss on my cheek before going over to Leo and pulling his hand. "Daddy, give Aunt Clara a kiss on her cheek. She has an ow-ie and that will make it feel better."

I'm not sure which of us turned brighter red but Miss Albertson smiled politely and glanced away, focusing her attention on Christopher and thereby giving us time to recompose ourselves. We spoke about the children for a bit, with Leo and me being careful to avoid looking at each other, before Mrs. Myers came to the rescue by calling us to dinner.

Which, unfortunately, wasn't much better. Leo and Miss Albertson sat at one end of the table, while the children and I sat at the other end. This left me trying to feed Amanda her baby food with the silver spoon while making sure Christopher got more in his mouth than on his face and clothes; the latter met with only modest success. Miss Albertson had an amused expression on her face throughout the meal, and even Leo was fighting a smile at times, leading me to give him angry looks.

When the children were done, my plate was still virtually untouched, but I excused myself and the kids so we could go up to take a bath and get ready for bed. Christopher got something on Miss Albertson's dress when he shook hands to tell her goodnight; it was all I could do to wait until we were climbing the stairs and out of her view before I smiled.

***

I took a bath later that evening after the children were asleep, trying to wash away the mess in which the kids had covered me as well as my frustrations. Leo was taking Miss Albertson home, which I figured would give me time to soak and think, letting the warmth of the water seep into my tired and frustrated muscles. Jasmine-scented soap made the water smell wonderful.

As I scrubbed myself, the washcloth swept across something else that hadn't received much attention since Mary's passing, sending a shiver up my spine. I pulled the cloth away quickly, trying to avoid such thoughts since they'd always centered on the one person in the world that I could never have. Still, the thought was there in my mind, pushed to the forefront by the lightest of touches, and the need, suppressed for so long, was too great. My legs slowly inched up, almost as if their own volition, and I hooked my feet over the edges of the cast iron tub as my hand slipped down into the water covering my mound.

My fingers ran through my pubic hair, blonde, fine, and never very thick, before the tip of my middle finger swept across my hood and my little dot just below it.

Months of denial came crashing down on me like oceans waves on the rocks and my sole focus was on my nub. Swirling around and around it, I imagined Leo was doing the deed, telling me how much he needed me, how much he wanted me, how great was his love.

"Please, please!" I whispered to him as he continued to excite me, taking me to heights not scaled in so very long before continuing on to a new zenith never felt before. It was as if he directed the fingers of my left hand to pinch my nipples, twisting them to new sensations.

My moan was low and long as that delicious feeling, of joy and euphoria with a hint of jasmine, swept through and over me like those waves I'd once seen on that breakwater. The storm had been coming and they were uncontrolled, uncontrollable, much like my desire.

I lay back against the tub with my eyes closed, reveling in the feeling and wishing that it would last forever before realizing that it wouldn't and that the water was starting to cool. My sigh of frustration was all too familiar, made far too many times in too many ways in too many situations in recent months. I exited the tub, dried myself, and wrapped up in a robe before making my way to the bedroom to dress.

I heard the door about an hour later and peeked out into the hall to see a disheveled Leo limping from the stair to his room. He'd taken the beautiful Miss Albertson home and been gone far too long, so I knew what must have happened and then understood why I'd been able to tease myself to such heights.

I cried and cried, softly and quietly, until I finally slept.

***

Chapter 10