Read The Winters in Bloom for Free Online Page A

Courtney wasn’t home. It was a nice day, cooler after yesterday’s rain, so she decided to wait on the porch swing. It was only two o’clock. Courtney usually got off early on Tuesday, but maybe she’d had to run some errands. She’d never remarried; she had no roommates. She lived alone, in a life not that different from Sandra’s.
    A breeze blew up and the wind chimes on the porch were singing. Courtney had planted a little garden in the front yard: pink dahlias surrounding a white hibiscus, with yellow roses on the vine that climbed on the porch rail. It was a peaceful place to wait, but Sandra’s hands were throbbing from her arthritis, which was always worse when she was nervous. Her stomach hurt, too; she wished she hadn’t eaten lunch, though of course at lunchtime, she hadn’t known what had happened yet.
    She closed her eyes and thought of her grandson, Michael. He barely knew her, because David wouldn’t let Sandra take the boy anywhere unless he was also with them. Sometimes she got confused, trying to remember what Michael was like when he was little. She’d stare at a picture of him, but in her mind, she’d see the other baby, the one she knew so well that she could quiet him with just a coo and a touch.
    She had so many regrets. What if she’d told Courtney the truth that day in the restaurant? Sometimes you won’t understand your child. Maybe you’ll wish—just for a moment—that you’d never had them. But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t die for them in a second. They become everything to you; of course that hurts sometimes. And even when they leave, they’re always there, inside your mind, imprinted on your body: the arms that held them, the voice that sang to them, the eyes that cried for all their heartbreaks, from skinned knees to lost loves. So sure, I guess it’s a hard truth, when you get right down to it. There is no you anymore without them.

FIVE
    A s hard as it was for Kyra to believe now, she couldn’t deny that back in college, Zachary Barnes had been the kind of boy that attracted girls. He had long black hair and a stubble beard that made him seem cool, especially as he was from Seattle, which seemed strange and exotic even before the city became the cool center of the world thanks to grunge bands. He also seemed more grown up than other college boys because, in fact, he was. He’d spent six years in the army before he’d started at UMKC. He’d been out of the country, the first person she’d ever met who had.
    Zach was often quiet, making him seem mysterious, like he knew things that other people didn’t. Kyra thought he was wiser than every other boy at school—but he wasn’t wise enough not to fall in love with Amy. It was almost the first thing he did at college, right after he signed up for his premed courses: he started dating the pretty girl in line behind him at the registrar’s office. He wasn’t deterred when he found out that pretty girl wasn’t in line to sign up for classes but to withdraw from school. He didn’t tell her it was a mistake, because Amy could still make anything sound like a good idea, even quitting college after only one year to follow her dream (when did this become her dream?) of becoming a singer.
    If only someone had thought to get Amy to a psychologist when she started having problems during freshman year. It was obvious even at the time that Amy seemed hell-bent on reenacting their mother’s life, but Kyra didn’t know why and she didn’t know any psychologists. When Amy told Kyra that their mother had wanted to be a singer, too, and this was why she’d left them, it was news to Kyra, and she was mystified how her sister could know this when she didn’t. Amy wouldn’t say, but she glowed as she talked about their mother’s voice. “It was so beautiful. I only hope I can sound half as good as she did.”
    Kyra didn’t remember her mother singing, not once. Though she must have sung hymns at church and carols at