Page 3 of Stolen Mate

“I’m here, Mama. Everything is going to be all right.”

“I don’t want to leave you. I always thought we’d have time. Your father didn’t want to burden you.”

“What, Mama? What is it?”

This was not the first time her mother had alluded to something that seemed to be a big secret, one that seemed to be upsetting to her. It was only one of the things that they had argued about, resulting in a rift that neither was willing to breach for a couple of years. Tess now bitterly regretted her own foolish, stubborn pride.

At this point, though, did it matter? Tess and her mother had been estranged for a couple of years prior to Tess getting the call that her mother had only weeks to live. Tess had rushed to her mother’s side, and now it seemed her mother might not make it to another sunrise.

“Whatever it is, Mama, it doesn’t matter now. I just want you to know how much I love you, and that I am so sorry that we spent all that time angry with each other.”

“I am too. I just worry about you. I don’t want you and Lara to drift apart…”

“We won’t. I promise.”

Her mother nodded. “You have to know. You can’t live your life not knowing. My diaries… the ones from when we got you. You have to read them. Promise me. Promise me you’ll read them and not judge us too harshly.”

“Why would I judge you at all?” Tess asked confused.

“Because we shouldn’t have taken you. But you were so small, and the polar bear gave her life to protect you. We… we didn’t know.”

Tess would always remember her mother’s dying request, her desperation, and her deep breath as she closed her eyes and breathed her last.

* * *

Several days later, Tess and Lara stood under the canopy at their mother’s gravesite—their tears leaking out of their eyes the same way the dark clouds above seemed to be shedding the rain—holding hands. The electronic mechanism slowly lowered the coffin into the ground next to their father’s grave. The squeaking noise reminded Tess of a clue in an episode of Midsomer Murders.

“We therefore commit the body of Mary Dixon to the ground,” droned the priest Lara had insisted be there, even though their mother had never been religious. “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

By the time Lara had arrived that final day, their mother was gone. Lara being Lara, she’d gone into full planner mode, arranging for the obituary, the funeral, and a small gathering at their mother’s favorite restaurant after the service.

Tess was trying to think of a graceful way to opt out of the celebration of life, as her sister called it. People standing around trying to be joyful instead of mourning her mother was Tess’s idea of the seventh ring of hell. She’d never been one to do well in overly emotional settings. And while she was grateful that they had, for the most part, healed their estrangement, it still hurt that she’d made a lot of mistakes and had run out of time. Tess couldn’t help but feel there were things that had been left unsaid.

The silence after the mechanism ceased seemed almost deafening. She and Lara stepped forward, each tossing a rose onto the coffin’s lid. Tess breathed in, fingering the ancient Celtic knot pendant her mother had given her as a child, trying to focus on the words being said as people squeezed her arm. She closed her eyes and heard the familiar and soothing chuffing of her spirit guide. She seemed to understand better than anyone and right now all Tess wanted to do was go back to her loft, which seemed oddly empty without all of the equipment needed for a person to die in relative comfort. She wanted to pour herself a large glass of Pinot Noir, sink into her antique, Victorian slipper tub, and turn on some angry girl music. Alanis Morrisette should do the trick.

Turning away from her sister and those who surrounded them, Tess made her way from beneath the canopy, opening her umbrella, hoping to escape to the solitude she craved.

“Tess, wait up. Where are you going?” asked Lara as she caught up with her.

“I need to leave. I need a little space to breathe. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“No. It’s not okay,” said Lara in a quiet, but angry tone. “I made all of these arrangements which you said you were fine with.”

“And I am, and I’m grateful you did it, but I just don’t think I can handle it right now.”

“If not now, then when?”

“I understand this is important to you, but you need to understand, we’re very different. You’ve always been better about sharing your feelings and letting other people see you cry. It’s just really difficult for me. What with mom being at the loft…”

“You said you wanted her there…”

“You have your clinic; I work from home…”

“I could have brought in another vet or temporarily closed my practice. I didn’t think you felt it was a hardship…”

Tess could feel her own anger rising up to the surface. Tamping it back down, she said. “That’s not what I said. I’m grateful you let me have Mom at my place. It allowed me to spend extra time with her.”

The fact was Tess hated feeling vulnerable, hated the way it made her feel exposed. She’d always had a side of her that guarded those things she held most dear. She just needed to be alone for a few hours. Tess knew she needed to make Lara understand. “I just never got to cry, Lara. I need some space—” Her voice broke.

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