Threaded Through Time, Book Two, page 19
part #2 of Threaded Through Time Series
Or perhaps it was. “I might not.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to think that you can’t.” Robin’s mouth turned up at the corners. “If you grow bored of taking care of me, I’ll understand.”
“It will mean you keeping me.”
“I won’t see it that way.” Robin’s voice softened. “We’ll both be contributing to our home. And as far as I’m concerned, Pam’s money is our money. She wanted both of us to use it. Legally speaking, it’s all yours.” Robin’s fingers dug into Margaret’s shoulders. “Will you marry me?”
Her throat tight, Margaret nodded and managed a thready, “Yes.” Then she was in Robin’s arms, pressing her cheek against Robin’s. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” Was she weeping? She hadn’t thought of herself as sentimental. She’d waited apprehensively for Jasper’s proposal and had contemplated their future together in a rather detached fashion. But theirs had been a calculated match between two friends who’d assumed they’d become more to each other. Robin’s proposal and the promise of a life together filled her with an indescribable joy that took her breath away. Thank you, Pam. Thank you for reading the book, for falling in love with Jasper, for everything. I hope you shared a wonderful life together. I promise that Robin and I will remember you both by doing the same.
“I’ll take you out to get an engagement ring,” Robin said.
“No. I don’t need one. I’d rather you spend the money on something else.”
“We can put it toward our wedding bands.”
“Yes, let’s do that.” Margaret smiled. “I’ll look forward to choosing them with you.”
“Christmas hasn’t turned out so bad, after all,” Robin murmured.
“What would you have done if the visit with your mother hadn’t passed your . . . test?” Margaret couldn’t help asking. She didn’t mind when Robin took her time answering, content to rest her head on Robin’s shoulder and relax as Robin stroked her back.
“I would have asked you to marry me,” Robin finally said. “It would have taken me a few days to convince myself that I wasn’t going to completely ruin your life, but I would have asked you, because it’s what I want. I love you. I want to be with you. If I wasn’t married to you, I’d miss you every day. I know I said I’d be there no matter what, but I want to be there as your partner. I want us to go through life together.”
Margaret’s eyes grew misty again; she always felt humbled when Robin trusted her enough to poke her head out of her shell. “I love you, too.”
“When do you want to get married?” Robin chuckled; her back vibrated under Margaret’s fingers. “Now that it’s decided, I want to do it!”
So did she. “I would like nothing more than to marry you as soon as possible, but I would prefer to change my name first, if that’s all right with you.”
“Uh, yeah, marrying Pam Holden would be weird. I’d much rather marry Margaret Wilton.”
That wasn’t the name Margaret had in mind.
*****
Robin stared at the rainbow flag on the bedroom wall and hugged herself. She’d leaped from her chair the moment Margaret had said she’d found it. “Is it horrible? Did she die in childbirth? Did she die young of something we can cure now with a pill?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” Margaret asked.
She’d only wonder. “Yes.”
Margaret beckoned to her. “Come, sit down.”
Robin hesitated, then forced herself to return to her chair. But she wouldn’t look at the screen. “You must think I’m a baby, especially after what you just found out.” They’d first looked for Margaret’s family. Her parents had lived full lives, and so had her older brother Daniel, who’d married and had four children. But her younger brother Hubert had died in the First World War, leaving behind a bride of five months.
They’d taken a break.
Margaret patted Robin’s knee. “It’s more immediate for you. You lived with Pam here, in this house. You’re surrounded by her things. There are few memories of my family here.”
Robin covered Margaret’s hand with her own. Brave words from a stoic partner. The knowledge of Hubert’s death in the war had shaken her. “We can do this tomorrow.”
“Why, when Pam’s obituary is right here? Do you want me to read it to you?”
“Yeah,” she said, trying not to crush Margaret’s hand.
“Bainbridge, Margaret.” Margaret paused. “Passed away in her sleep in her 85th year.”
“Eighty-five,” Robin breathed. “That means she was actually 88, right? Because she was three years older than you. And she died in . . .”
“In 1972.”
“Jesus, she almost survived to the year she was born! I wonder what would have happened if she had.” Eighty-eight. Thank god Pam hadn’t died at thirty of a vitamin deficiency or something like that.
“Beloved wife of the late Jasper Bainbridge,” Margaret continued. “Cherished mother of Elizabeth, Catherine . . .” Margaret slid her hand from underneath Robin’s and slipped her arm around Robin’s shoulders.
“What?” Robin barked.
“Elizabeth, Catherine, Robin—”
“Oh, shit.” Robin’s eyes filled with tears. “She didn’t forget me.”
“Of course she didn’t. All right, Elizabeth, Catherine, Robin, Gerald, and Grace.”
“Five kids? Wow. Gerald was her dad’s name.”
“Dear mother-in-law to Thomas, Patricia, Julia, and Matthew. I wonder who belongs to whom. We can try to find out.”
Robin wiped her eyes. “Yeah.”
“Grandmother to . . .” Margaret smiled. “It’s a long list.”
“Bookmark it. I’ll read it later. Does it say where she is?”
“She’s buried in Halifax. I wonder when Jasper died.”
Robin covered her mouth with her hands while Margaret searched for Jasper’s obituary. Pam was buried in Halifax. She couldn’t quite accept it. Pam, eighty-eight, buried in Halifax. Jesus.
“He died in 1960,” Margaret said. “He was eighty.”
“She outlived him by over ten years. That must have been hard for her.”
“She had a large family, Robin. She wouldn’t have been alone.” Margaret pursed her lips. “Her children have probably died, but grandchildren might still be alive, and their descendants, of course.”
“When she was born, it’s possible her children were still alive. They could have been senior citizens when their mother was in the maternity ward!” Was Pam ever tempted to come to Toronto and “bump into” her parents and grandparents? Did she want to warn her father not to get into the car after his business dinner on a snowy night in 2001? How had it felt, watching history unfold and knowing she couldn’t warn anyone about upcoming tragedies? Everyone would have thought she was crazy, even if she’d tried. Robin was sure she hadn’t. Pam would have known that she couldn’t change history. Shit, I miss you, Pam. I won’t be naming any kids after you, but as long as I’m alive, you will be too.
Margaret tapped away on the keyboard.
“What are you looking for now?” Robin asked.
“I’m trying to find a photograph of her when she’s older.”
“I don’t want to see a photo. I want to remember her the way she was here.”
“Then turn around. I want to see one, if I can.”
Robin did as she was told. Why did Margaret want to—oh. To reassure herself.
“Here’s one, on a Bainbridge family website.” Margaret was silent for a moment. “I’m going to bookmark this. It might tell us who married who. If you don’t want to see photographs, don’t visit this site.”
“Okay. The photo you found. Is it her?” Robin held her breath.
“Yes, it’s her. And it’s safe to look now.”
Robin spun her chair around. “She never used the book.”
Margaret’s eyes were moist. “No. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“Good.” She reached for Margaret, pulled her close, and held the woman from the past who’d somehow gotten under her skin and stolen her heart. “Good.”
Chapter Eighteen
Pam examined herself in the mirror while Doris fluttered around her, making last minute adjustments to her wedding dress. The muffled organ music set her heart racing. Jesus, she was about to get married! Who would have thunk it? “So you’re sure you’ve never heard the word ‘epidural’?” she said to Doris.
Doris shook her head. “Not in relation to childbirth. Why do you ask?”
“I thought I heard someone reference it in that context,” Pam said, her heart sinking. No freaking epidural? Then the child she was carrying must be that daughter of hers, because no epidural meant no more babies after this one. She’d go through it once, and if Jasper desperately wanted more children, maybe—just maybe—twice. That would be it! No more after that.
The door swung open; Charlotte burst in. “Are you ready yet? Poor Jasper’s wilting up there.” Her mouth formed an “O” at the sight of Pam. “Oh, Margaret,” she said, her eyes tearing up. “You’ll never forget this day.”
No, Pam suspected she wouldn’t. “Tell the others to get ready,” she said. Charlotte bustled out to tell the embroidery group, today doubling as Pam’s bridesmaids, that their walk down the aisle was about to begin.
Doris met Pam’s eyes. “I’ll miss you two while you’re away.”
“We’re only going for a couple of weeks. We’ll be back for the New Year.”
“I can’t thank you enough for—”
“That’s what friends are for.” Pam smiled. “And you won’t thank us when you’re peeing into a chamber pot.”
Doris chortled. “I do love your straightforward manner.”
“It’ll only be temporary.” Pam lifted a brow. “The chamber pot, that is.”
Doris’s eyes danced. “Are you ready, then?”
Pam took a deep breath and nodded. Doris leaned in to give her a quick hug. “Thank you for asking me to be your maid of honour.”
“I couldn’t imagine it being anyone else. Come on. It’s time for me to get married.”
When they reached the top of the aisle, Pam accepted Oliver’s extended arm, took her bouquet from Doris, and waited while Doris positioned herself between the bridesmaids and the bride. “Unfortunate that your family couldn’t put aside their anger to attend,” Oliver murmured.
“I prefer it this way. They would have snubbed Jasper.” The loud introduction to the Wedding March drowned out Oliver’s reply.
Pam’s walk down the aisle was a blur, both mentally and visually. Oh god, it was really happening. She remembered how surreal she’d felt when it had been time to send Jasper and Margaret back to 1910. Little had she known! Today felt surreal in a good way.
When she reached Jasper’s side, he dazzled her with his smile. Man, her husband-to-be-in-five-minutes cut a dashing figure in that suit. Could her heart beat any faster? Somehow she said her rehearsed words, held out a trembling hand so Jasper could slide the wedding ring onto her finger, and kissed him at the appropriate time, all while in a daze.
When the minister introduced Mr. and Mrs. Jasper Bainbridge to those gathered and applause rang in her ears, she smiled through her tears and thought back to that night when she’d found the wedding announcement on the Internet. When she’d read the words on the phone’s display—the cold words of history—she’d viewed a kaleidoscope through a black and white lens. She loved Jasper, she was coming to love Doris, and she’d eventually love these people who’d gathered here on her very special day. If only Robin and Margaret were—no, don’t go there. Robin would want this for her. Robin was here, smiling down on her. And I’ll be at your wedding, Robin. There’d better damn-well be one, or I’ll be freaking pissed!
To reinforce that wish, she imagined Robin standing with the other women when it came time to throw the bouquet and, in her mind, she threw it to her. Nope, scratch that. Robin would be hopeless; she’d rather it bounce off her head than catch it. Pam formed an image of Margaret instead, then tossed the bouquet over her shoulder. She turned around in time to see Doris dodge it. A beaming young lady she didn’t recognize triumphantly held it up. As Pam clapped along with everyone else, she closed her eyes for a moment and smiled at Margaret clutching the bouquet to her chest. You have a wonderful life, girls. I will, starting with a honeymoon with my dashing husband, and then a child. Just the one. Okay, maybe two, but that would be it. No more!
*****
July, 2011
Margaret stared down at the gold band on her finger and touched it to make sure it was real. They were married. She and Robin. Married. When she felt a chin on her shoulder, she looked up and turned, expecting to see Robin. Cathy smiled at her. “Congratulations, Mrs. Tillman. And you really are Mrs. Tillman. How did you manage that, Robin?”
Robin shrugged and lifted her hands, palms up. “I didn’t manage anything. She wanted to change her name to that.”
“I’m old-fashioned,” Margaret said, then grinned when Robin did, pleased that Robin was no longer upset about her decision to take the Tillman name. When Margaret had first told Robin of her intent, Robin had vehemently tried to dissuade her. But Margaret hadn’t budged. Why take the name Wilton again? That name belonged to Pam and a life that Margaret had left behind. It had made perfect sense to take Robin’s name, though if Mother could see her now . . . !
“Tillman is a proud name,” Janice growled. “You should be proud to have it.” Behind her, Chris rolled his eyes.
“I am, Janice,” Margaret said, grateful that Janice had shown up—and come sober, though how long that would last was anyone’s guess. She suspected they’d help a tipsy Janice home.
An elevator door dinged open. “Let’s get to the restaurant,” Robin said, ushering everyone inside.
As they rode to the ground floor of City Hall, Margaret gave Robin’s hand a quick squeeze. Oh, how she’d looked forward to this day! If not for the rhyme book, she would have travelled to her wedding in a horse and carriage and walked down the aisle of a grand church in a wedding dress designed by one of Toronto’s most prestigious designers. Hundreds of guests would have watched her wed the firstborn son of a respectable and wealthy family; every unwed woman in the church would have envied her. Afterward, the wedding party and guests would have enjoyed a lavish, multi-course dinner and danced to live music in a palatial ballroom, dressed in clothes bought specifically for one of the society events of the year. The society pages would have dedicated a full page to the wedding. Margaret would have tried, oh-so hard, to be a good wife to Jasper, while wondering why her experience of love fell so short of that described by her friends.
Today, she’d ridden the streetcar to City Hall with Robin and greeted the small group of family and friends that waited outside the civil marriage chamber. Her voice had shaken with emotion when she’d vowed to love and cherish a woman who wore a blouse and trousers. Now they would all ride the subway to a restaurant, where’d they laugh and chat while they dined on a fifteen dollar per head buffet. Margaret didn’t believe it was possible for her to feel happier, more optimistic about the future, or more in love—though somehow, her love for Robin would continue to grow, a mystery that humbled and delighted her.
Did she wish that her family had been here to see her marry? No. They wouldn’t have understood. To be herself, she’d had to leave them, and she was grateful to live in a time in which fewer lesbians had to choose between their families and themselves.
The elevator doors opened; everyone spilled out into the large lobby. “Too bad Pam couldn’t be here,” Francine, who was becoming Margaret’s friend in addition to Robin’s, said. “Couldn’t she and her husband have flown over? First she leaves it to you to sell the house, then she misses your wedding.”
Robin shrugged. “Her husband couldn’t get the time off.”
“Man, she must have it bad, not wanting to leave his side for five minutes,” Cathy said.
“Don’t knock Pam. She felt so guilty she couldn’t make it that she’s paying for our honeymoon,” Robin said with a twinkle in her eye that only Margaret fully understood. “And I can honestly say that if it wasn’t for Pam, we wouldn’t be together.”
Margaret’s throat tightened. Normally embarrassed by overt public displays of affection, she didn’t protest when Robin squeezed her and planted a wet kiss on her cheek.
“She gave us first and last month’s rent too, as a thank-you for handling the house sale,” Robin added.
“You should have taken an apartment in my building,” Janice muttered.
That was the last thing they’d wanted to do! They’d leased a nice two-bedroom apartment not far from the university. They’d had the keys since the beginning of the month, but they hadn’t wanted to upset Mitzy by moving her to a new home and then abandoning her to go on their honeymoon. She’d be more comfortable in the only home she knew, with Cathy coming in every day to feed and cuddle her. Margaret and Robin—and Mitzy—would move into their new home in August.
They’d spent the last week painting their apartment, and Margaret had loved every minute of it. They were even making friends in their apartment building! A young woman who’d noticed their comings and goings had invited them in for tea and cookies and had shocked Margaret by brazenly asking if they were a couple, or roommates. Melissa hadn’t batted an eye when Robin had honestly answered her; in fact, they were going to Melissa’s for dinner the Saturday after they moved in.
“Where are you going for your honeymoon, again?” Francine quickly asked when Janice looked as if she was about to launch into a tirade about their apartment choice.
Robin grabbed Margaret’s hand. “Halifax. It’ll be Margaret’s first time flying.”
Cathy’s eyes widened. “You’ve never been on a plane?”
Margaret tightened her grip on Robin’s hand. “No.”
*****
