THE WATERS

By Jo

Part Three:

Letty read to her grandmother for about half an hour until Maureen murmured, "I think I'd like to go back to bed now."

Gently Letty got the old woman settled into the small bed near the window, smiling as she smoothed her hair on the pillow. There were still faint traces of red in Maureen's bright silver and, as she'd done a hundred times before, Letty wished she could have known her grandmother as a young woman. There was still a soft beauty about her face and the faded blue eyes looked up at her with affection and warmth.

"I'll check back in a bit," Letty said, making sure her grandmother's water glass near the bed was full.

When Letty had closed the door behind herself, Maureen lay quietly, looking out the large window over the roofs of nearby buildings, to the green sides that steeply framed the course of  the valley. She'd already been a widow for five years when her son Patrick had brought her with him from Ireland to this place. It was green, like home, but a different sort of green, a deep, forested green of fluffy, mounded tree canopies coating the slopes, not the smooth, grass-green
around the croft where she'd lived with Sean, had raised Patrick.  Over the years, she grown fond of the river valley, but where you've spent your youth, your young adulthood, always remains a part of you. Lately she found herself looking at her view here but not seeing it, not really, her mind and heart filled with white-washed homes tucked amongst a web of grey rock walls. snaking their endless way across endless emerald grass. It didn't seem so terribly far away these days. Perhaps as one's life wound down a vast ocean was less of an obstacle to a homing heart.  Closing her eyes, she reached out a trembling hand, smiling as she rested it atop the grey stone cross with a Celtic knot carved in its center. She could feel the weathered roughness of the stone under the delicate, thin skin of her fingertips. "Sean," she sighed.

"And what might you be doing, little missy?" Letty asked her small sister, finding her stretched on her stomach in the hallway, busily scratching away with a pencil stub on some papers scattered under her forearms.

"Drawin'," Erin smiled, looking up at Letty with a grin.

"Drawing what?"

"Aminuls."

"You mean animals. What kind of animals?"

"Camels. I'm drawin' camels."

"Camels? How do you know about camels?"  Letty crouched beside Erin so she could see the paper. On it was some sort of odd beast with five humps and a head that had ears quite like an elephant.  One leg was half as long as the other three and a giant flower with four petals bloomed hugely in front of it. "Um, don't camels usually only have one or two humps?"

"Maybe," Erin said, adding a long leaf to the flower's stem, "but my camel has a huge desert to cross and he needs more humps than that."

"Well, I'm very glad to see you are considering the welfare of your camel," Letty chuckled.  "When you're done, come downstairs and I might just take you to the park."

"Would you?" Erin's smile widened. "Here, just one more...leaf...and I'm all done. Can we go now?"

"If you'd like, yes."

"I would, I really, really would, Letty!"

"Well, gather up your papers then and we'll be off."

Hand in hand they went down the stairs to the main floor where their father's dry goods store was. "Papa," Letty said, "Grandmother is in bed and I'm going to take Erin for a walk in the park for a while. She's been inside all day."

Patrick, still slim in his mid-40's and with grey wings forming in the brown hair at his temples, smiled at his two daughters.  Erin, with her flaming red hair, was the image of her grandmother, and Letty, who had his own soft brown hair with just a touch of red highlights, had almost overnight, or so it seemed to him, become a woman.  He shouldn't be surprised, he knew, because she'd been mature beyond her age ever since her mother had died and she'd taken over
mothering her newborn sister and caring for her grandmother. Sometimes he worried she'd had too much responsibility in her life too young, but she also had an inner core of strength that he'd come to rely on, probably more than he should. "Good idea. Have a good time, my darlin's."

Out on the sidewalk that ran the length of Lincoln Street, where they lived, Erin let go of Letty's hand and began skipping ahead, her little body practically wriggling with energy. "Come ON, slowpoke!" she called back to her sister, and Letty picked up her pace.

In the park Erin headed immediately for the fountain. She adored the carved swans on it and had even given them names.  Letty sat on a bench, watching her sister circle around and around the fountain and was startled by a sudden touch on her shoulder from behind.

"Oh, sorry!" Molly smiled, coming now to the front where Letty could see her. "I saw you sitting there and, well, there's something I'd like to ask you."

Molly had been Letty's best friend her whole life.  Her father was one of the foremen at the iron works and she lived with her large family in a big frame house just around the corner on Clinton Street.  Molly had coal black hair and startlingly pale blue eyes that lit up her otherwise quite plain face. She sat beside Letty on the bench, looking at her seriously. "I need you to come with me."

"Now? Where?"

"Tomorrow.  To South Fork."

"South Fork? Are you going to visit your grandparents?"

Molly nodded. "Grandpa fell, sprained himself so bad he can hardly get around. And you know Grandmum is nearly blind. Mama wants me to go up and stay a while till Grandpa's back on his feet again.  I want you to come with me. Do you think you can?"

South Fork. If she could go to South Fork, it was only two more miles to the dam. She sighed, though. "I don't see how, Molly, not with Erin and Grandmother needing me like they do."

"Could you...ask? Maybe Mrs. Whitfield could watch after them?"

"Oh, gosh, Molly. I'd love to go with you. I really would. I just don't know."

"Ask? Will you at least try?"

Letty looked at Erin, who was running her small hands down the neck of a stone swan.  "I'll see, Molly. Don't count on it, though."

"Ma said she'd feel better if you went with me. She doesn't like me taking the train up there alone. Pa says he'll pay your fare if you can come."

Letty blew out a long breath. She was always so responsible. How could she go off and leave Erin and her grandmother for several days?"

"How long?" she asked.

"A week maybe, depending on how Grandpa starts to get around."

"That's an awfully long time, Molly. I just don't...."

"Promise you'll ask?"

"I'll ask."

That evening after supper, she went into her father's small office downstairs where he was going over the day's accounts at his desk. "Papa?" Her voice was unusually tremulous.

Patrick looked up, the lamplight playing across his pleasant face. "What it is, child?"  Then he smiled, swiveled in his chair and took her hand. "I suppose I shouldn't be calling you that any more. You're a woman grown."

Letty cleared her throat.  "Molly's grandpa, he fell yesterday and, well, he can't get around good enough to take care of her grandma."

Patrick nodded. "I heard something about that today from Mrs. Newling. Bit of a pickle for them, I understand."

"It is. It's a real pickle. That's why Molly's taking the train up to South Fork tomorrow so she can take care of them."

"Sounds like you. You're always doing the taking care of around here."

"Her ma doesn't," she hesitated, "doesn't want her to go by herself."

"What's she going to do, then?"

"Her father's offered to pay my way if I can go with her."  There, she'd got it out.

"You? But...."  He looked up at his daughter's face, reading all sorts of half-stifled emotions there. "You want to go?"

"Yes, Papa. I want to go." Letty's voice seemed very small, almost far away to herself.

Patrick licked his lips. For five years Letty had not spent a single night away from home. Before then, she used to have sleepovers at Molly's, but that had stopped the day Letty's mother had died. "How...?" he began.

"We...we could ask Mrs. Whitfield. Remember how she helped out those days I was sick last year?"

Patrick looked at his daughter, really studying her.  She had basically taken over the duties of her dead mother, had had little time for any personal life, never asked anything for herself.  There she stood, quite lovely now, a young woman, indeed, her dark blue eyes entreating yet embarrassed by the fact of it, guilty, even, for the asking.  That's what got to him, that she felt guilty for asking to do something she wanted. Standing, he touched her shoulder. "You sit there. I'm going across the street to Mrs. Whitfield's."

Letty watched her father go out the door, sliding on his suit coat as he went.  He was the best father in the world. She had no doubt of that, never had. How could she have asked this, asked for something that would complicate things for him?  She sighed, tears stinging her eyes, and buried her face in her arms on his desk.

Patrick wasn't gone long. When he came back to his office and saw Letty, he shook his head. He knew her so well, knew how she was feeling, but he also knew she shouldn't have to feel that way.  Still standing in the doorway, he said softly, "It's arranged. You can go, my darlin'."

Letty's head jerked up. "She said she'd come?"

"She did, indeed. I think she gets lonely over there in that big house now that she's by herself and you know how she's always been so amused by Erin. All she wanted was that she can bring her cat with her, but she said she'd stay as long as we needed. So you go ahead and run on to Molly's and let her know you'll be on the train with her tomorrow."

"Oh, Papa!" she cried, going to him and sliding her arms around his middle. "I love you so much."

He kissed her forehead.  "You run along so you can get home before dark. Then you'll need to pack."  His arms tightened around her as it hit him how much he'd miss her. She'd just always been there and he'd come to take her presence for granted. "You take care of yourself up there, you hear me?"

"I will, Papa."  She moved through the door out into the store, heading for its entrance where she paused and looked back at her father, who was watching her.  "Thank you."  Her voice cracked and she hurried back past the long counters, hugging him again. "Thank you more than I can say."

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