Unbreathed Memories Read Free

month. Sunnye is taking care of the store.”
    “What about Eric?” Eric Gannon was Ruth’s ex-husband. He still owned a half interest in the shop and used that as an excuse to pop in from time to time and fiddle with the displays, just to annoy her.
    “Mon-sewer zee artiste won’t even notice I’m gone. Last time I saw him he was walking down Main Street arm in arm with that Sylvia creature who used to work at Banana Republic.” She heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Thank God we didn’t have any children.” Ruth wiggled her fingers. “A little more to the right.”
    I complied, although my arm was beginning to ache. You’d think she was building the space shuttle or something. When the telephone rang, seconds later, I made an eager move to answer it.
    Ruth raised her hand, palm out. “You stay there, I’llget it.” She snatched the receiver off the wall. “Ives residence.” She turned and looked at me, head tilted, considering the present placement of the mirror. “Oh, hi. How’re you doing?”
    She waved her hand, indicating that I should move the mirror a few centimeters to the left. I was praying she’d find a cosmically acceptable position soon.
    “Sure. She’s right here. I’ll get her.” She extended the receiver in my direction. “It’s Georgina.” Ruth wore that puzzled look where her eyebrows nearly met. “Apparently she doesn’t want to talk to me.” She held the receiver by the cord with two fingers, as if it were dirty and she’d forgotten the Lysol.
    I set the mirror down on a chair, walked to the phone, and took the receiver from where it hung from Ruth’s outstretched fingers. “What’s up, Georgina?”
    “Sorry to trouble you again, Hannah, but I thought of a couple more questions I wanted to ask about when I was a kid.”
    “Why don’t you ask Mother? Or Ruth? Ruth was nine when you were born. She might remember more than I do. I was only seven.”
    “I can’t talk to Mother and I don’t want to ask Ruth. She’s so … judgmental.” Georgina was practically whispering, as if she thought Ruth might overhear.
    “If it’s for therapy, I’m sure we’d all be willing to help.”
    “Don’t give me a hard time, please, Hannah. I’d rather talk to you, is all, if that’s OK.”
    I sighed. Might as well get it over with. “Sure. Shoot.”
    It seemed forever before Georgina actually spoke. Strange, for someone so anxious to talk. “Why was I hospitalized in kindergarten?”
    That was easy. “You had your tonsils taken out.” I remembered how jealous we’d been when Georgina’d been allowed all the ice cream she could eat.
    “Are you sure?”
    “Of course I’m sure.”
    “How long was I in the hospital?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe two days.”
    “I seem to remember it being longer than two days.”
    “Georgina, you were only five. Two days away from your family would seem like forever to a five-year-old.”
    “I guess so.” Georgina paused. She didn’t sound convinced.
    I made a brave effort to change the subject. “Speaking of children, how are the boys liking Hillside?”
    Georgina ignored me. Her next question caught me completely by surprise. “Tell me. How did Mary Rose die?”
    Mary Rose was our infant sister who died when I was barely three, long before Georgina was born. I felt guilty that the only memory I had of Mary Rose, other than photographs, was from the tantrum I threw when the new baby moved into my room and I had to share a bedroom with Ruth. But I will never forget my mother grieving over the empty crib. “It was SIDS,” I told her, not believing that she didn’t already know this.
    “Are you sure?”
    “Of course I’m sure! If you don’t believe me, ask Mother.”
    “I told you, I just can’t talk to Mother about this stuff. She wouldn’t understand.”
    I turned my back to the stove where Ruth had her head under the exhaust hood and was using the heel of her shoe to pound a nail into the center of a white rose on the