Philomena (Unloved) Read online

  To Robin Arnold,

  thank you for your friendship and the angel gift

  that made this book a possibility.

  And to my wife, Rhonda,

  for always being my safe place to land.

  1

  Stitch ’n Bitch

  I’m told this is how it all began…

  THEY’D BEEN MEETING like this every Thursday. No one could actually remember when they’d started, or maybe they didn’t want to as it might remind them of how old they were becoming. Somewhere along the way, they’d come to fondly know their Thursday night gathering as their Stitch ’n Bitch meeting.

  The new moon barely lit a path for the elders into their meeting in the basement of the community hall. The wind howled through the valley and would’ve caused the sagebrush to blow about had it not been covered with snow. Not only was the landscape feeling the brunt of a long, harsh winter, but so were the women. Each of them was in need of a spark or something to give them hope to get through the rest of the season that was wearing on them in ways they couldn’t describe. Or didn’t dare describe.

  Sarah could feel the tension weaving its way into their meeting, like a snake waiting to strike. She was all too familiar with this scene. Over the years, the unresolved pain each of them carried had caused mean and hurtful words. She decided to intervene.

  “Me ’n my granddaughter, Cherie, was watching movies last night, all curled up cozy in my bed. One of ’em was called The Bucket List. You know the one about the two old geezers who make a list of all the things they want to do before they die.” She turned her eyes up from the moccasin she was working on and glanced around the table. All the women were working on their projects, and although they didn’t make eye contact with her, she knew it didn’t mean they weren’t listening.

  “Well, it got me thinkin’, you know with my tummy scare and all, ’bout the things I want to do before I pass over to the other side.” Sarah hadn’t told anyone, but the bone-weary exhaustion had crept its way back into her life. The same exhaustion that had led to the cancer diagnosis last year. She was scared.

  Lucy looked up from the sock she was knitting and asked, “Like what?”

  “Oh, there’s lotsa things!” Sarah put the moccasin down for a moment, looked at Lucy, and said, “That’s what I realized.” As she inhaled, a rattle escaped her lungs, causing everyone to turn and look at her. In a bleak tone, Sarah divulged, “I realized how little I’ve done with my life.”

  “That’s not true, Sarah,” Rose snapped in her usual harsh tone. She gave a quick shake of her head. “And don’t be thinkin’ like that.”

  “It is true. I’m not sayin’ it so you feel sorry for me, but all those days lyin’ in bed with my tummy thing, and then that movie last night got me thinkin’ about all the things I’d hoped to have done.” She picked up the moccasin. “And which ones I still want to do.”

  Mabel removed her reading glasses. The beaded granny string allowed them to fall safely on her chest. She looked across the table at Sarah. “Well, since you’ve been thinking about it, what’s on your bucket list?”

  Sarah wasn’t sure she wanted to tell them. While she had known most of them for longer than she hadn’t, it never seemed to get any easier to open up to them. Or to anyone for that matter. But the events of the last year had forced her to ask for help and, to her surprise, she was even learning to share her thoughts and feelings.

  “Well, I’ve always wanted to see Rod Stewart in concert.” She was about to continue when Lucy butted in.

  “Oh, you just want him to sing your favorite song.” Lucy stood up and jiggled her chest as she sang. “Do you think I’m sexy? Come on sugar let me know.”

  The table roared with laughter, and once she’d caught her breath Sarah teased back, “You know me too well.” She winked at her friend. “Seriously though, I wanna see one of my grandchildren graduate from high school, and I, oh, I always wanted to go to Hawaii.”

  “Ditto to Hawaii!” interjected Lucy as she plopped herself back down in her chair.

  “But the real big one that I’ve always wanted to do…” She inhaled again, the crackle of her lungs filling the now silent room. “Is to dance at the Gathering of Nations Pow Wow.” Without raising her head, she looked around the table to see everyone’s reactions. When there were no reactions, Sarah added, “You know, the World Pow Wow.”

  Still, no response.

  Annoyed that she had to spell it out for them. “The one down in Albuquerque.”

  “Oh, that Pow Wow,” said Lucy. “Geez, you dream big, don’t ya girl?”

  “Yup. Guess so.” Sarah’s cheeks flushed and her eyes turned down. She reached with her needle for a bead, assuming that was the end of the conversation.

  And her dream.

  The room fell silent and remained so until one voice stated, “I’ll go with you.”

  Slowly, Sarah’s eyes rose to look across the table at her friend Mabel, who tilted her head slightly and nodded, confirming what Sarah had heard.

  Just over a year ago, Mabel had lost her sister to cancer and Sarah’s recent battle with the same tortuous disease had called on Mabel’s faith in ways she’d never experienced before. Through it all, she’d come to learn that life really is precious and she had best go after what she wanted because she never knew when she’d get another chance.

  Or, if she’d get another chance.

  It was this lesson that prompted her to look across the table and reiterate, “I’ll go with you.”

  Sarah’s voice was faint, “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” Mabel beamed at Sarah for a couple of seconds and then turned her gaze around the table. “As a matter of fact, we could all go.”

  The women had stopped working on their projects and were looking at Mabel. “We’d have to raise a lot of money, but I think we could do it.” She paused for a moment and then lifted her shoulder contemplatively. “Maybe the Band could help us out. You know, let us use one of their vans.”

  Rose butted in, “They’re not vans. They’re more like small buses and I’m pretty sure someone has to have that special license thingy.”

  “Rose, why you always gotta go do that?” asked Lucy.

  “What?” she replied snarkily and raised her left eyebrow at her best friend. Usually this tone and look silenced whoever was on the receiving end, but not Lucy.

  “You always gotta go and be a Negative Nellie and shoot down ideas.”

  “I’m not being a Negative Nellie.” Rose pointed around the table with her lips. “As usual, I’m being the only realistic voice in this group.” She turned to face Lucy square on. “Tell me, who’s gonna drive us? In case you didn’t know, Albuquerque is a heck of a long way from here.”

  “I can drive,” declared Mabel.

  “Yeah, but you can’t drive all the time. We’d need at least one more driver.”

  Lucy giggled and her glasses bounced up and down on the end of her nose as she said, “And we need someone to take care of us crazy elders.”

  As Lucy’s laughter subsided, the room grew quiet. The women were accustomed to unfulfilled dreams. So why would this time be different? Not Mabel though. She looked down the table at each woman and knew this time had to be different. “Leave it to me. I know just the person to call.”

  “Call for what?” asked Rose. She’d already dismissed the idea as a possibility, thinking her point about one more driver had put an end to this ridiculous conversation. “Didn’t anyone hear me?” Rose gave no time for a response and in her curt way asked again, “Call for what?”

  Sarah’s head didn’t
move, but her eyes looked across to Mabel. This time Sarah didn’t dare breathe. “You mean,” she paused, “to go to the Pow Wow?”

  It had been a long time since Mabel had been this certain of anything. She couldn’t help it. A slow smile developed across her face. “Yes, Sarah, go to the Pow Wow.”

  As if orchestrated, all the women responded at the same time, “Really?”

  There was a slight pause before Mabel nodded.

  The women glanced around the table at each other. No one knew quite how to respond to what had just happened. This most certainly was not their usual Stitch ’n Bitch meeting.

  When one doesn’t know what to do, they do what is familiar…what feels safe. For the elders that was working, so they went back to working on their projects. Each lost in a state of shock and disbelief. After a few minutes, Lucy piped up, “So if we’re really gonna do this and since we’re talkin’ bucket lists, well, I’m just wondering…do you think we could stop in Vegas?”

  Rose’s tone rippled with judgment, “Vegas?”

  “Yes, Vegas! You know I’ve always wanted to go to Las Vegas.” Lucy’s eyes roamed upwards, as if she was dreaming of something glorious.

  Mabel looked down the table at Lucy. “I think a stop in Las Vegas is a great idea.”

  Lucy raised her arm in the air triumphantly. “Yes!”

  With one decision, the potential of dreams becoming reality swept into their January meeting like a warm summer breeze, and with it took the harshness of more than just the winter away.

  2

  Aftermath

  Sarah

  STANDING IN FRONT of her bedroom closet, Sarah reached in and pulled out the green suitcase that was tucked in the far corner. She set it on her bed, popped the two clasps open, and lifted the top. Inside was her regalia. Sarah closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as the sweet smell of buckskin filled her. She smiled. Slowly she opened her eyes and ran her fingers over the beads.

  With care, Sarah removed her dress from the suitcase and held it up in front of herself. She turned to look in the mirror. Even though her regalia had been stored for many moons, the white buckskin dress and yellow shawl were in pristene condition. Each and every bead in the bear paw and intricate flower design was as tight as the day she’d packed the regalia away. As Sarah inspected her dress in the mirror, the reflection of a young woman appeared. Sarah blinked her eyes hard and closed them. When she opened her eyes, the young woman was still in the mirror. She was wearing the regalia of a Fancy Dancer, her hair pulled back in a tight braid. Her face was striking. She had rich brown skin, high cheekbones, coffee-colored eyes, and supple lips. The young woman gave a slight nod of her head, acknowledging to Sarah that she was in fact seeing her. Then the young woman looked at the dress Sarah was holding and at the rest of the contents in Sarah’s suitcase and back to Sarah. She moved her head up and down a couple of times and then bit by bit, her image faded from the mirror.

  Sarah inhaled deeply and shook her head. “Now that was weird,” she muttered to herself as she turned away from the mirror and laid her dress out on the bed. Sarah sat beside the open suitcase and one by one, pulled out the remaining pieces of her regalia. First her moccasins, then her shawl, then her headband. She ran her fingers over the attached eagle feather.

  Time lapsed, and as Sarah sat there surrounded by her regalia, she wondered if she’d ever wear it again. Or, as the old people used to say, “If she’d ever dance it again.”

  Anne

  Anne flicked on the light and closed the door behind her. She’s made the tiny room at the end of the hall cozy. Her books, mostly biographies and novels by yet to be discovered Canadian writers, adorned the shelves, dresser, and bedside table. There was even a large stack neatly piled beside her bed in alphabetical order, of course. She had battery-lit candles strewn about the room and had recently added an aromatherapy diffuser. Anne hadn’t quite gotten accustomed to the smell of fry bread that lingered in Sarah’s house. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the smell, she did. Just not all the time.

  It had been just over a month since she’d come out from Toronto to help care for her sister, Sarah, who was recovering from chemotherapy. Anne had agreed to stay until the end of March, and some days those two more months seemed like an eternity. Especially when she was missing her Liz. Like tonight.

  The clock read 9:36 p.m. That meant it was almost one in the morning back home in Toronto. Anne reached for the cell phone in her purse and looked at it for a moment, then back at the clock. Now 9:37. Liz had always been a night owl, but when she went through “the change” it got even worse. The chances were better that she’d be up than in bed, so Anne called home.

  On the first ring, Liz answered, “Hello, my love.”

  “How’d you know it was me?”

  “Because I know things and I’ve been waiting for your call.”

  “Waiting?” asked Anne. She could hear Liz smile as she teased, “Sure. I know things, remember?”

  “You’d think I’d know that by now, since you’ve been reminding me for more years than I can count,” Anne replied as she sat on the bed. She reached up with her free hand and undid the tight bun from atop her head. Her salt-and-pepper hair fell down her back. She ran her fingers through it.

  Liz asked, “So, how was your Stich ’n Bitch?” But before Anne could answer, Liz chuckled and continued, “Gawd how I love saying that.”

  Anne smiled, half at the Stitch ’n Bitch and half at how good it was to hear Liz laugh.

  Liz continued, “Whoever decided to call the group that is brilliant.”

  Anne had never considered where the name came from. Not only was it brilliant, but it was true! She lay down and pulled the quilted afghan from the end of the bed up over herself. Once settled, she proceeded to tell Liz about the evening, Sarah’s bucket list idea, and how the idea of the trip unfolded.

  “I think you should go.”

  “Go?”

  “Yeah, go!” Liz paused for a moment. “You were invited, weren’t you?”

  “I suppose, but that’s when I’m supposed to be coming home.”

  “But just think, my love. The red rocks, the New Mexico sun, the crickets, the Pow Wow, not to mention a trip with your sister. It would be good for the two of you.”

  It was one of the things Anne loved about her Liz. The way she could make almost anything sound enticing. Liz was always good at helping Anne sort herself out, and Anne did have to admit that the trip intrigued her, but not as much as going home.

  Rose

  As Rose settled into her La-Z-Boy chair to watch the evening news, her husband, Poncho, asked, “How was Stitch ’n Bitch?” He grinned every time he said it, he couldn’t help himself.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ll never guess what cockamamie idea they’ve come up with now.”

  “Well, if I ain’t never gonna guess, why not just tell me?”

  Rose told Poncho about Sarah’s bucket list idea and how, all of a sudden, they were talking about going to the World Pow Wow.

  “The one down in Albuquerque?” His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised.

  She looked over at her husband of almost fifty years and replied, “Yep, that’d be the one.”

  “Well, I’ll be.”

  They both turned and went back to watching the news. After a few moments, Poncho hit the mute button and turned to Rose. “So, you think it’s gonna happen?”

  Her eyebrows furrowed and she shook her head. “No! I don’t think it’s gonna happen. Think about it.” Rose used the thumb on her right hand to begin counting off the reasons why. “Where are we gonna get the money? How we gonna get there? How’d we get those passport thingies you need and besides…” Rose paused to catch her breath. “Can you imagine all of us women in one bus for all those hours an’ all those miles? Somebody’s sure to end up dead.”

  Poncho l
ooked at his wife as if he was considering what she’d just said. Eventually he raised a shoulder and dropped it before replying, “Too bad. This ol’ cowboy could use a road trip.”

  “Who said you woulda been invited anyways?” Rose snipped.

  “I woulda invited myself.” Poncho grinned at her. “I could’ve been the peacekeeper and made sure everyone made it home alive.” Poncho snickered, but he was only half joking.

  Bea

  When she arrived home, Bea was surprised to find her daughter, Liv, still up. “Whaddya still doing up, my girl?” Bea asked as she kissed Liv on her forehead.

  “I was lying in bed reading and the leftover fry bread kept calling me. ‘Liv. Liv. Come eat us.’” Both women giggled. “Can I warm up a piece for you, Mom?”

  “Please.”

  “Anything interesting happen at Stitch ’n Bitch tonight?” her daughter asked as she popped a piece of fry bread into the microwave.

  Bea settled in at the kitchen table, opened the margarine container, and answered, “Funny you should ask that.” Ding went the microwave and Liv placed the fry bread on a plate, grabbed the jam from the fridge, and sat down across from her mom.

  “You ever seen some movie called The Bucket List?” Bea asked her daughter.

  “Yeah, why?”

  As Bea munched on her jam-covered snack, she shared the events of the evening.

  “Really? You’re going to go to the World Pow Wow?” said Liv. “Jealous! I’ve always wanted to go!”

  “Well, I don’t know just yet. There’s a lot to sort out.”

  Before Bea could finish, Liv butted in. “Oh, I believe it. Mabel makes shi…” Liv caught herself. She knew her Mom didn’t like swearing. Bea barely tolerated the name of their group. Liv continued, “Mabel makes things happen, Mom! You know that.” Liv nodded her head emphatically and then with a coy smile added, “I think you and your ladies are about to go road trip’n.”

  Mabel

  Mabel stoked the wood stove, made herself a cup of chamomile tea, and settled into her comfy chair. She was far too wound up to even consider sleeping, so instead, she began to create a budget of what a trip to Albuquerque might cost.