Searching for Mr. Darcy

Scene Seventy-Nine

By nine, George had finished the rigging by adding wheels to the two original legs and set the table up in Momma Frampton's room.  Unfortunately, she was knocked out and couldn't enjoy it yet, so Maisie pushed it to the foot of the bed and promised George she'd let him know how her mother liked it the next day.

"You two probably want to get out of here - I really appreciate your coming.  I'm sorry she was rude."

Talia shrugged it off.  "Don't worry about it.  I'm going to get a similar lecture from my parents when they find out I'm dating a Christian."

"What?" George said, stopping in his tracks on the way to the front door.

"We'll talk in the car," Talia said to George.  She hugged Maisie.  "We'll come back tomorrow and do some of those puzzles with her so you can have a break."

"Thanks.  I'd say you don't have to do that, but I would really, really appreciate it."

Left alone a few minutes later, Maisie straightened up the living room and kitchen, then flung herself on the couch and turned on the television.  The sound blared out and she scrambled to turn it down before it woke her mother.  After a few seconds of bated breath, and no response from the bedroom, she relaxed and found a Hallmark movie that was just starting. Pulling a blanket across her lap, she wished Dash was there to curl up against her legs.

She texted an update to her sister, then pulled out her laptop and browsed jobs on Monster.com for an hour.  Nothing stuck out.  She was really starting to worry that she'd never figure out what she wanted to do with her life.  Surely her talent with sales could translate to another career that wasn't sales, right?

At 10:30, she turned the television off and brushed her teeth.  She peeked into her mother's room and was startled to realize how frail she looked sleeping.  Momma Frampton wasn't an old woman, but without her domineering presence asserting itself, she looked every bit her fifty-five years.

Her dark brown hair was actually dark grey now, and she had pronounced frown lines around her mouth and on her forehead.  Maisie moved closer.  Her mother's hands laid on top of the blankets; Maisie gently picked one up and ran her fingers over the veins popping out prominently.  As she tried to tuck it under the blanket, her mother jerked awake.

"Maisie?" she said, her voice hoarse.

"Yes?"

"Thank you, dear."

"You're welcome.  I love you, Mom."

Her mother squeezed Maisie's hand and closed her eyes again.  Maisie dropped into the chair beside the bed and watched her sleep.  She'd have given anything, when she was growing up, for a different mother.  One who have her hugs and kisses, not as rewards, but out of affection.  One who said the words, "I'm proud of you," when she won a spelling bee, or passed the driver's test.  But like it or not, this was the mother she had and she was thankful she still had her.