SHE FOLLOWED ME HOME - ch 12

SHE FOLLOWED ME HOME – ch 12

Mo deas

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Mia’s mother, Morena, had once thought that a few weeks had gone by way too quickly. Now, as she looks at her daughter in her garden, she realizes a few weeks had been nothing. In the blink of an eye, since their move to Ireland, the years seemed to have evaporated.

Mia stood, wiped her dirty hands on her overalls and said, “Mom, what’s wrong? You’re looking at me as if I were a stranger.”

“Oh, Mia, in so many ways you are and then again, you’re not. Where have the years gone? When we came here, we never really knew if we’d stay, and now, here we are five years later and you’re going to be thirteen in five weeks. You’re still my little girl, yet, again, you’re not. My little girl is growing up and I’m not sure how I can handle it.”

Mia walked to her mother and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Oh, mom. It won’t matter if I’m thirteen or thirty, I’ll always be your little girl.”

Morena smiled and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “How’s the new garden coming along?”

“Mom, I was thinking of expanding it. So far, it’s been wonderful. With the variety of vegetables I’d been growing, I’ve able to donate much of it to the homeless shelter and senior care home in Ballardbeg. But my donations have been sparce. I want to expand the garden and enlarge the greenhouse. I’m hoping dad can put in a root cellar for me.”

“Mia, first let me remind you that you’re not quite thirteen and you’re already doing too much. Ah!” Morena said holding up a hand to quiet her daughter. “Let me finish. I have no doubt he’ll do exactly what and how you want it done but what I was going to say is, maybe you can have a few of your friends help you.”

Mia took on a thoughtful look, then said, “You know, mom, you have a good point. Mrs. McHenry said I have excellent delegation qualities. In other words, I can be a bit bossy although she’d never admit that.”

In the years since she first sat in Mrs. McHenry’s Language Arts class, she and Mia had become as close as a teacher and student could be without actually being related. Mia, being fluent in Gaelic, helped her teacher with the students who struggled with the pronunciations. Long after she was no longer part of that classroom, Mia often wandered in, asking if she could help.

Mrs. McHenry and Mia’s mother became friends and often, when school wasn’t in session and Morena wasn’t working at the clinic, would enjoy an afternoon of lunch and shopping.

“Mia, honey, didn’t Mrs. McHenry ask you to call her Sheila?”

“Yes, mom, but it doesn’t feel right. And yet, calling her Aunt Sheila also feels a bit awkward.”

Morena brought up a mental picture of her friend. Sheila McHenry was tall and thin. Her hazel eyes reminded Morena of a tall, cool, glass of iced tea. Her long wavy hair was losing its deep raven color to the gray streaks that wanted to take control. And yet, even though Sheila McHenry was closing in on the age of fifty-eight, and her hair was graying, she still had the youthful glow of a woman in her thirties. Morena chuckled silently and thought, “She either has a wonderful facial cream or it’s the witch in her. Maybe one of these days, I’ll draw up the courage and ask her.”

“Mom,” Mia said from where she returned to her kneeling position in her garden. “She was using a potion she’d gotten at the herb store in town until she met Aunt Liz. She gets her face cream from her now. Even though she can use a glamor spell, so far, she refuses. Says it would be nothing short of lying.”

“Oh, Mia, will I ever get used to you being able to read my mind?”

“Probably not but you know, mom, I only hear what isn’t personal. I can block out conversations you have with others and often do. With the books I’ve been reading and my conversations with Aintin Finola, I understand it would be an invasion of privacy.”

“Mia, your father is so right about you. You’re still twelve but have the mind of someone in her fifties. You’re scary.”

Mia smiled, “Aintin said I’m an old soul. As long as I don’t look as old as my soul, I’ll still be a happy kid.”

Morena walked inside the house and came back with a tray on which she placed pitcher of lemonade, two glasses, and a few cookies. “Mia, my old, little girl,” she laughed as she called her daughter, “I’ve brought out a snack. I think we can both use a break.”

Mia walked to the outside faucet and rinsed her hands before making her way to the outdoor picnic area that her father designed and built years earlier.

“Mom, do you ever miss America?”

“Funny you should ask but if I must be honest, I really don’t. How about you?”

“In one way, absolutely not, but in another, yes. I miss Charlotte and Julie. Amy and Maria moved from our old town and, well, just lost touch with Charlotte, Julie and me. I’m so glad we have email and Skype.”

“I have a better idea, Mia. How about if I contact Charlotte’s and Julie’s parents and invite them here for the week of your birthday? School won’t be in session, and, well, we can afford to pay for their airfare. What do you think? Want me to try and see if they’ll come?”

Mia didn’t need to sprout her wings to fly off the chair and into her mother’s arms as she screeched, “Mom, oh Mom! That would be wonderful! Yes, please. See if they’ll come. What a grand day to turn thirteen it will be!”