The Mommy Letters - Chapter Two

Chapter Two

         “Where’s my baby? Give me my baby! Robin!” Sarah’s voice grew higher as her panic increased.

         “Mom! What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Kathryn’s voice was puzzled as she questioned her mother.

         The remaining light of the day seemed to fade from the kitchen as a cloud blocked the waning sun and Sarah collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap of yellow fabric. As her two older daughters rushed to her side, her hands nervously folded and unfolded the letter she’d just opened.

         “Mom! Talk to us! What’s going on?” Elizabeth, a frown on her face, reached out to touch her mother’s hand.

         “Bring me Robin! Where is she? Why can’t I see her? Robin!” With each word, Sarah’s voice faded as she dissolved into hard, wracking sobs.

         The girls could see Sarah holding a piece of paper, but couldn’t see how it had led to such a breakdown.

         “Mom! Take a deep breath. Tell us what’s going on and how we can help.” Elizabeth’s voice took on an authoritative tone as she attempted to sooth her mother.

         “I want Robin. Bring her to me. I want my baby. I want my baby.” Sarah’s voice continued to lose volume as sobs interrupted her words.

         The clock struck six o’clock, causing all three to glance up at the authentic Bavarian cuckoo clock Sarah’s father had brought back from the army. Staring, as though mesmerized, all three seemed to hold their breath as six tones marked the hour. As the final tone faded and the clock door closed the chiming bird inside for another hour, Sarah’s sobs regained volume.

         “Mom! Come on! Just tell us what’s going on. You’re scaring us.” The younger girl’s voice broke as she joined her sister in reaching for their mother’s hand.

         “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t do this. What can I do? Where is my baby?” As she caught her breath between sobs, her voice regained a bit of strength.

         “Can’t do what, Mom? Can’t do what?” Elizabeth’s voice was a mixture of concern and frustration.

         As Sarah struggled to end her tears and voice the cause of her panic, she glanced around the formerly cheerful kitchen, which she and the girls redecorated one weekend six months ago, as a way to reestablish their bond as a family. The bright yellow walls, again in honor of Robin, usually captured the best of the late afternoon sunlight, but now seemed dull in a room darkened not only by clouds but also by emotion. Catching sight of the family portrait taken the Christmas before last, she lost her struggle for composure as Robin’s sweet toddler face stared back from the canvas.

         “No! No! I can’t! I want my baby. I need my baby.”

         The girls exchanged a glance that expressed many shared thoughts. As Elizabeth rose to take action, Kathryn moved closer to their mom, slipping an arm around shoulders usually so strong but now appearing frail.

         Rubbing Sarah’s back, Kathryn watched as her older sister went first to the cabinet that held their everyday glassware and then to the hutch that housed a variety of liquor. Reaching hesitantly towards several bottles, she eventually grabbed the decanter of brandy, remembering from the old movies they all used to watch together that brandy was good for calming hysteria. Pouring a small portion into the glass she held, she returned the container to the hutch and walked back to her mom and sister.

         Gently kneeling beside her again-quieting mother, Elizabeth tried to press the glass into her free hand, but it was pushed away as Sarah finally let go of the paper she was clutching and brought up her hands to cover her face. The girls watched as the paper glided to the floor, and in unison, the younger reached to draw their mother back while the older grabbed the sheet.

         Barely glancing at the paper that seemed to contain childish writing, Elizabeth looked at her sister and said, “Help me get Mom up. We’ll go lay her on the couch and let her rest for a minute until we can figure out what’s up.”

         Placing the paper aside, she watched as Kathryn slipped her arm under her mom’s and around her back and then did the same from the opposite side. Rising together, they helped pull Sarah to her feet, but didn’t anticipate her legs buckling. Breaking her stumble, they strengthened their support and the three haltingly progressed forward into the living room, trying to smooth the wrinkles from Sarah’s elegant suit as they walked along.

         Once Sarah was settled comfortably on the over-stuffed couch facing the fireplace, Elizabeth turned back towards the kitchen while Kathryn sat holding her mother’s hand. Stroking it gently, she murmured what she hoped were soothing thoughts while she tried desperately to imagine what had so upset her mother.

         From the time her youngest daughter, Robin, had disappeared, Sarah had held her emotions together unfailingly, and if she’d had moments of hysteria, like this one, they’d been suffered privately, without her older daughters’ knowledge. As terrible as these past eighteen months had been, Kathryn had relied on her mother’s unending faith that their family would one day become whole again. Sure, she’d stopped cooking regularly and she was often preoccupied, but there was never a crack in her optimistic outlook that all would again be well. Kathryn knew that today was going to be hard on everyone as they all imagined what it would have been like to share in Robin’s first day of kindergarten, but still was shocked at the suddenness of Sarah’s hysteria. Perhaps whatever was written on the paper would give a clue to what had so upset their mom. It couldn’t possibly be bad news, Kathryn thought…surely bad news would have been delivered in person.

         Continuing to stroke Sarah’s hand, Kathryn urged her to finish sipping on the brandy they’d carried from the kitchen. Encouraged to see that the amber liquid was nearly depleted, she was also relieved that the wracking sobs had quieted, leaving just trembling, as might be caused by a winter chill, as a reminder of the episode that was passing.

         “Close your eyes, mom. We’re here. Just relax for a few moments and we’ll figure this all out.”

         Watching Sarah’s eyes droop closed, Kathryn rose as Elizabeth returned from the kitchen with a puzzled frown disturbing her pretty face. Raising one finger to her lips, Kathryn inclined her head towards their mother to indicate that she’d calmed and they shouldn’t disturb her. Catching on, Elizabeth swallowed the words she’d been about to release and beckoned for her sister to follow her to the far corner of the spacious living room, where two matching arm chairs were set up in a cozy conversational area beneath the stairs. Kathryn noticed that Elizabeth was carrying the paper their mother had clutched in the kitchen and hurried over as concern faded and was replaced by curiosity for what words the paper might contain.

         As the girls settled into the chairs that were once their grandmother’s and had been expertly restored by their father, they exhaled as one, while the younger prepared to learn of the paper’s content and the older struggled to make sense of what she’d already read.

         “Alright, Elizabeth. What in the world is going on?”

         “I really don’t know. I need more time to think. It’s all very confusing.”

         “If you’re trying to spare me, just stop. I can handle whatever it is. Just tell me – or better yet, let me see that paper.”

         “Wait, Kathryn. You don’t understand. I’m not trying to baby you – good Lord, you’re the age now that I was when this nightmare started. I’m just trying to tell you that I don’t get what’s up. I think maybe we should call Dad.”

         “Call Dad? What for? That’s about the last thing we need to do – it’ll just remind Mom more about Jason being gone and Dad’ll just stir things up by offering to help her yet again.”

         “Would that be so bad? If Dad hadn’t left in the first place, none of this would have ever happened.”

         “Um, hello, big sister. What planet are you living on? Dad didn’t leave – Mom asked him to go. You’re right – if they hadn’t split up, this wouldn’t have happened because Robin wouldn’t have existed. You can be so dense sometimes!”

         “I’m just saying that if Dad had been around, it would have been better. Mom’s starting to move – she doesn’t need to hear us fighting.”

         “Fine. We won’t fight. Just tell me what’s going on so we can figure out what to do.”

         “Alright, but I still think we need to call Dad and have him come over. This is too much to handle and he’ll know what to do.”

         “Fine, fine. We can call Dad and if there’s something he can do, we’ll ask him to do it. But I don’t want to upset Mom any more than she’s already been, so let’s just see if we can help first without calling in the big guns.”

         “Ok. Here’s the letter she was reading when we got home. It looks like it came in the mail but I’m not sure. It’s just weird.”

         Kathryn took the letter offered by her sister and with hands just slightly shaking, unfolded it to read the message it contained.

                   Dear Mommy,
                   Help me! Please don’t be mad at me. I’m scared.
                   Why can’t you find me? I miss you, Mommy.
                   Love,
                   Robin

         Kathryn finished her first read-through quickly. She paused after the last words, glanced up first at her sister and then her uneasily resting mother. Blinking, she turned her attention back to the letter in her hands and read through a second time, and then a third, and then a fourth.

         The shaking in Kathryn’s hands became a bit more pronounced as she finished her fifth reading. Although all five readings were completed in under four minutes, she felt like an eternity had passed and a huge weight now lay upon her heart.

         “Oh my God. Who would send this? No wonder Mom freaked. It’s awful.”

         “It is awful, but more than anything, it’s weird. Everyone knows that Robin’s missing, but who would want to torture Mom like this?”

         “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a stupid prank. How are we going to figure out who did this? Mom’s going to wake up soon and if we don’t do something, she’s going to be hysterical all over again.”

         “Now do you see why I wanted to call Dad? We have to. He’ll know what to do.”

         “Ok, ok. We’ll call Dad.”

         “You don’t need to,” intoned a deep voice as the front door swung open and their father strode in to the house he’d once shared with their mother. Dressed handsomely in the neatly tailored suit he wore as Rockingham’s sole police detective, his mere presence in the room gave a sense of calmness to his daughters. “Dispatch sent me over – said there’d been an anonymous call that there was a disturbance. What in the hell’s going on here?”

         Before either girl could answer, their mother chose this moment to awaken. Yawning and stretching, she glanced around her living room with a puzzled look on her face.

         “Shawn, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”