Poppies- Chapter 36-
By: Deena Thomson
Tags: Fiction Series, Fiction, Writing, Fiction Writing, Novel

The next morning Joanna dressed in a light yellow dress. It showed off the green of her eyes. She stood on the front porch looking sweet and elegant.

“Wish me luck,” she said to her husband, who stood in front of the door admiring her.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“No, I should go alone,” Joanna replied. “I don’t want to add insult to injury. Let me face them alone first and see if I am accepted before I bring you and the children to them.”

Chad nodded, leaning over and giving Joanna a lingering kiss.

“If you need me, I’m here,” he said, touching her light brown hair. It was shoulder length now and set in a soft wave going away from her face.

“I know,” she said, touching the hand on her hair, “you always are.”

“You don’t owe anyone for your happiness, Joanna.”

She nodded, holding back tears, knowing that it wasn’t completely true.

She owed Mara-Joy.

“You don’t have to do this, Joanna,” Chad called behind her. Joanna looked over her shoulder back at the house. He looked anxious as he stood in the opened door.

The children appeared behind his legs. Their little fists frantic waving at her. Calling out their good-byes.

“Yes, I do,” she said and blew her family a kiss.

It was a short drive to Constance’s house. Alexandria had informed Joanna with as much information as she could. Constance had married a man and they had a two-year-old son. They lived only a few blocks from Chad’s parents.

Joanna pulled into the driveway, stopped the car. She took another deep gulp for courage.

Would Constance understand?

She got out of the car and smoothing her skirt down flat on her legs. She’d taken great care that morning in choosing her clothes and hoped she had done herself justice. Constance knew she was coming. Joanna had called the night of they arrived. Constance seemed excited to hear her older sisters’ voices. She told Joanna she’d received all her letters. She wanted to write back, but couldn’t understand why Joanna wouldn’t leave a forwarding address.

They made plans to meet the next morning. Which brought Joanna to the front door of Constance’s little white house. Her heart pounded as she procrastinated. Part of her wanted to flee from the scene at once, but she had run away for the last time.

Joanna held her breath and wrapped on the white door, her legs jumping wanting to bolt.

A small boy with light brown hair and brown eyes answered. Joanna inspected the boy. Trying to see her sister in his face. The boy must take after his father.

“Hello,” Joanna bent down to face Constance’s son, her nephew, for the first time. “Is your mother home?”

Suddenly an average height woman of slender build appeared behind the child.

“Patrick, go and play dear,” the woman said, looking down at Joanna.

Joanna’s heart stopped.

Constance hadn’t changed much. She was still blonde with soft curls that framed her face. Her green eyes were the same, just like Joanna’s. Joanna stretched back up onto her feet. The two stood still staring at each other, soaking in the changes the years had placed on them.

Joanna was taller and slimmer than Constance. When the boy, Patrick, went back into the house, it was plain to see that Constance was very much pregnant. Despite these differences, they still looked very much alike.

Sisters.

“Joanna!” Constance cried, knocked out of her shock. She embraced a startled Joanna in her loving arms.

“Connie!” Joanna hugged back overcome with emotion. She had always missed Constance but didn’t know how much she missed her until that moment.

“It is so good to hear that name again.” Constance pulled back and wiped tears away from her eyes. She admired Joanna’s appearance. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

“I didn’t even recognize the woman in front of me at first.” Joanna held a tissue to her red nose.

“Oh come in, come in!” Constance grabbed Joanna’s arm and lead her into the warm living room of the cozy home.

“Joanna.” Constance hugged her again. “I have missed you so much. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me get in touch with you.”

Joanna pressed her lips tight together and sat down on the light blue couch. She motioned Constance to sit beside her. Constance sat down heavily, her bulging tummy pushed forward.

“I was afraid,” Joanna began, her hand fluttering to her mouth, which had begun to quiver behind the shield. “I was afraid to face you. You had warned me not to fall in love with Chad, but I couldn’t help myself — we couldn’t help each other.” Joanna dabbed her eyes with the hanky she retrieved from her purse.

“I don’t regret my decision to be with Chad. We are so happy with the children,” Joanna replied, trying to excuse her behavior.

“But, Joanna, you wouldn’t let me write to you. Why?” Constance felt all the old hurt surface. She needed answers for those years filled with tears over Joanna’s rejection of her. It was bad enough Constance felt responsible for setting the plans in motion. The very plan that would destroy her family.

“Don’t you understand? If I didn’t speak to you, you could not snub me. I could handle rejection from Ma and Pa and even the other kids, but I couldn’t handle it from you, Connie. If you would have nothing to do with me, I would have been lost. It was my way of protecting myself.”

Constance shook her head in disbelief.

“Joanna, you should have known I would forgive you for anything. We have wasted years because you were afraid and assumed.”

“I realize that now. It’s one of the reasons we came back home. We couldn’t run and hide any longer from the past.” Joanna placed her smooth palm on her sister’s tight stomach. “I am here now. I won’t run anymore.”

Constance fixed her hand on Joanna’s.

“Good. I need someone around to share the important aspects of my life.”

Just then the baby inside her gave a strong kick, causing their hands to jump up.

“It looks like I came home just in time. This little one is going to be a handful,” Joanna said in awe of the child growing inside of Constance.

Constance laughed. “If the child is anything like his big brother, I will need all the help I can get.”

And as though hearing his mother talking about him, Patrick entered the living room. He stood shyly in front of the two women on the couch, a wet pinky finger twisting in his mouth.

“He must take after his father,” Joanna observed. The brown-haired child continued to stare blank, almost dim-witted.

Oh no. Joanna thought. Was the child slow? She thought of Pauline, the youngest of her sisters. Although she was always a sweet girl, she had sometimes seemed a little on the slow side. Could Constance, so intelligent and so smart, have a child who was more like Pauline?

“Yes, he is the spitting image of George.” Constance tried to stand up but fell back into the sofa. Joanna leaped to her feet and assisted in lugging Constance’s bulk up off the couch.

“You are already here for me.” Constance puffed and arched her back painfully. “I tell you, the end of pregnancy is a prison term for women. If it weren’t for the outcome, I doubt any one of us would have been born.” She gently took Patrick’s fingers out of his mouth.

“This is Auntie Joanna, Patrick. She is Mommy’s sister who used to live far away.” Patrick nodded. “Do you remember me talking to you about her?” She smoothed back his soft wavy hair. His head moved back and forth in acknowledgment.

“Hello, Patrick,” Joanna extended a cheerful hand to the boy. He accepted Joanna’s offer with his own small hand. “I’ll be seeing a lot of you and your Mommy from now on and I have two children who would love to get to know their cousin. Would you like to meet them?”

“Do you have a boy?” he asked in a clear, bird-like voice. Animation suddenly illuminated his eyes. Joanna instantly realized that what she had taken for slowness was in fact, boredom. What would a two-year-old boy find interesting in two women reminiscing? Patrick was not so. Comprehension danced in his eyes and voiced itself in his clear, perfect speech.

“Yes, I have a boy. His name is Charles and he is five years old.” Joanna felt pride rise in her voice when speaking her son’s name. This was right. Her son should know her sister’s child. They should play together and be friends. She had been a fool to stay away so long.

“We can play cars and build things with my blocks.” Patrick stood twisting his wet fingers, trying not to shove them back into his mouth.

“My goodness, Patrick, you are quite the talker,” Joanna replied flabbergasted. Her earlier diagnosis of her nephew was without merit. The two-year-old was a genius.

“Patrick, you will meet your cousins soon, but for now it is time for Mama and Aunt Joanna to have some adult time alone. Please play quietly in your room. I’ll be in shortly with a snack.” Constance scooted the small child out. “Now,” she said, returning to Joanna, breathing slightly harder, “I have to make a call to our little sister.”

“Pauline?” Joanna stood up, frightened, her hands clenched.

“Yes, Pauline. She would never forgive me if I didn’t call and tell her you are here. I am not the only one who missed you all these years.”

“She was still a child when I last saw her last.” Joanna felt emotions welling up again and tried in vain to fight them back.

“She isn’t a child anymore,” Constance said, going to the phone.

“I have missed so much. Your marriage, your son’s birth, our sister growing up.” Joanna felt overwhelmed. “How can I face her after what I have done?”

Constance stood before Joanna, the phone handle cradled back in the receiver.

“You will face her. This is a happy day. You have returned to us. Stop worrying about the past. You will be around for all the rest of the marriages and children.” Constance touched Joanna’s shoulder. “There is still so much time left for us to share.”

“Connie, you haven’t changed.” Joanna sniffled, conjuring up some courage. “I’m glad for that.”

“Wait till you see Pauline.” Constance went back to the phone and began to dial. “She is quite the beauty. She outdoes us all, I’m afraid to say. She still lives at home with the folks. And, can you believe this, she dates George’s brother. We really hope that works out.”

“How are the folks?” Joanna asked softly, the words barely left her mouth. She couldn’t look at Constance. She focused her attention on her hands twisting the tissue she held to bits.

“They are fine,” Constance replied in a far off voice.

“Do they ask about me?” Joanna held her breath.

Constance hung up the phone again. Wrenching her lips, she wrestled with her own thoughts.

“Listen, Joanna. I am not going to sugarcoat things for you. I am glad you are home again and I know Pauline will be happy but–”

“Ma and Pa are not glad is what you are trying to say.” Joanna fought back the physical pain she felt deep in her chest. She closed her eyes and tried to compose herself.

What did she expect?

“They all became very close after you told Mara-Joy about her parentage.”

Guilt flooded Joanna. The look on Mara-Joy’s face that day would haunt her, forever.

“Even though she knows Ma and Pa aren’t her biological parents, they got real close. Closer than before, if that was ever possible.” Constance paused and then decided to continue. “You really knocked Mara-Joy for a loop. A big loop.”

“I will never forgive myself for the things I said to her,” Joanna said, unable to look Constance in the face.

“Well, she has never forgiven you for taking Chad from her.”

“He was never really hers.”

Constance’s left eyebrow rose in disagreement.

“She doesn’t feel the same way, I am afraid.” She paused, deciding whether or not to continue. “She’s married twice since you’ve been gone.”

Joanna’s head snapped up surprised. Maybe Mara-Joy had moved on.

“She is still with her third husband. He has two girls from a previous marriage, which is good for her since she —

Constance stopped and blushed a deep red.

Joanna didn’t need to be told that Mara-Joy could have no children of her own. She was very much aware of that bit of information.

“He is very rich and much older than she is, but she seems happy, finally.”

“That is good to hear,” Joanna piped up. “I want her to be happy, Connie. Even though I have always had a rivalry with Mara-Joy, I still love her in my own way.”

“I understand,” Constance said knowingly. She too felt the same emotional ties to Mara-Joy. They grew up together, raised as sisters, their childhoods forever intertwined. Constance witnessed Mara-Joy’s honest pain when Joanna and Chad ran off together. Pain that she had helped to create by putting the idea of stealing Chad away from Mara-Joy into Joanna’s head. If she hadn’t convinced Joanna to be Chad’s lover, Joanna would never have fallen in love with Chad. Constance wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that she had started the chain of events.

“I wish I could take back all the pain I have caused her,” Joanna said, eyes downcast. “But I don’t regret my life with Chad. He is my world and we have been so happy. I know he was my sister’s husband, but it was in name only, Constance. It was in name only.”

Constance bent her head. Her own guilty heart torturing her.

“We all have said and done things we regret Joanna. You’re not alone in your regrets over past deeds.”

“But she is my sister — and what I did to her — ”

“I know. I know.” Constance paused. Unable to finish her sentence. What could she say? No Joanna you did nothing wrong? That would be a lie.

“I better get the coffee going. We have a lot of catching up to do,” Constance began to rummage through the cupboards in the kitchen. Her belly getting in the way.

“Here, let me help you.” Joanna gently pushed Constance into a chair. “Now tell me where the coffee is.”

Constance laughed, rubbing her swollen stomach, and motioned to the top shelf.

“You should have heard Pauline squeal when I told her you were here.” Constance sat back, pressing her strained spine on the padded chair cover. Finding what she had been searching for, Joanna began mechanically making the coffee.

“I can’t wait to see her,” she replied, filling the coffee pot with water from the sink. “She won’t be the same Pauline I last saw.”

“Oh, she’s still the same old Pauline. Sweet and loving in a childlike way.”

Constance pressed her hand to her back grimacing.

“Tell me you didn’t have these horrific backaches when you were expecting?”

“I am afraid to tell you, little sister, that I did. Twice.” Joanna said over her shoulder, smiling.

“Ugh. Must be a family curse. We should warn Pauline.”

“Warn Pauline about what family curse?” asked a feminine voice from the kitchen door.

Both Joanna and Constance turned toward the direction of their disruption.

There stood a tall, gorgeous brunette with the most outrageous golden streaks in her hair. She was lean and sleek with startling olive eyes. Her hair pulled back from her oval, tanned face in a ponytail. She was dressed in a white button-up shirt that was untucked over her slim tan pants. She took Joanna’s breath away.

This little sister was by far the rarest gem of all four sisters. She exuded beauty and elegance, grace, and style. And she did all this while being totally unaware of herself. All you had to do was look into the young woman’s face to see all the sweet innocence welled up inside. Pauline was rare. She was beautiful both inside and out.

“Pauline, my God!” Joanna was speechless.

Tears welled up in Pauline’s large eyes. Her lips began to tremble and she dashed headfirst into Joanna, circling her with a fierce grip of love.

“Joanna, we have missed you so much!” Pauline cried with all her heart into Joanna’s chest. Joanna returned her embrace. Overcome with the emotional outburst Pauline so openly displayed.

“Look at you,” Joanna said, composing herself. She pulled Pauline away from her and gave her a thorough inspection. “You are a beautiful young woman.”

Pauline blushed innocently. Joanna couldn’t help but notice that this was new information for the exquisite Pauline. She smiled. The child was oblivious to her splendor.

“Well, I’ll always be your baby sister,” Pauline giggled.

“Yes,” Joanna said, hugging Pauline to her again. Pauline felt wholesome. Joanna breathed deep of her scent, burying herself into her soft-smelling shoulder.

“Joanna?” A deep voice from the doorway caused Joanna to open her eyes, heart pounding. The voice was one she had dreamed of hearing again but thought she never would. She turned around from Pauline, afraid her ears had deceived her.

Standing beside Constance stood a graying-haired man with the most beautiful shaped eyes. The same green eyes she had.

“Papa!” Joanna stood frozen to the spot. Pauline stepped aside, leaving Joanna alone to face their father.

“Oh Pappy!” she cried, forgetting her fears and running into her father’s waiting arms. Alan hugged her tightly to his broad chest, a hoarse sob escaping from deep beneath the barrel of flesh.

“Joanna,” he sobbed, clutching his daughter to him. She felt unreal as he held her tighter and kissed her wet cheeks, afraid she would suddenly disappear.

“I have missed you, girl.”

“Oh Pappy, I have missed you so much. I have missed everyone,” Joanna proclaimed staring, unbelieving, into his watery eyes.

“How could you have stayed away from us all these years?” he asked, cradling her head in his large hands. Joanna kissed each palm and held them to her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Pappy. I was afraid.” Joanna turned to Constance and Pauline. Their arms locked together, holding each other for emotional support.

“I was afraid you all hated me for what I had done.”

“Hate my own daughter — my flesh and blood?” Alan turned Joanna’s face up to his. “I could never hate you no matter what you did.” He brushed away the fresh tears streaming down Joanna’s face. She looked up at him, swelling with pride. There was so much love in his heart. How could she have not trusted it?