Magic Mirror - Last Part

“Isn't he the handsomest man you've ever seen mom?” I said with the stars still showing in my eyes.

“I must admit he is pretty good looking but I still think your dad would hold that title...”

“Oh come on Mom. You say that only because you love him.” I said making a long face.

She winked - “My point exactly!”

“Seriously Mom. What do you think of him?”

“Not much!”, she said with all seriousness.

“What do you mean?” I wailed.

“He is not the one for you...that's what I mean.”

“How can you say that after meeting him just once...”

“I have known him through you. I had my doubts which were confirmed further after meeting him.”

“Oh! Please don't say that.”

“OK I won't!” she said getting up.

“Why are you doing this?”

“If you are not willing to listen to reason, why do you even bother asking me?”
“You know how important you are to me Mom.”

“Well obviously not as important as he seemed to have become in a span of a couple of months.”

“Oh no Mom. That's not true.”

“Sylvia, listen to me, he's not the right man. You don't have to rush in, If you still think you want to see him, go ahead, spend some more time with him and try to get to know him better. You can't give your life to a man you have known only for a couple of months.”

“But I love him Mom”

“Love, my dear is highly overrated.” She sighed.

“I can't wait...”

“...and why not?”

“We are pregnant Mom!” I blurted out.

She sat down and both of us found ourselves staring at the floor.

What she said next caught me completely by surprise. I expected her to shout at me, maybe even hit out at me but instead in a quivering voice that with a lot of effort she seemed to be holding steady, she said

“That does not mean you have to throw away your life.”

I simply stared at her dumbfounded. I had not realized that she disliked him to such an extent. I had assumed that once I told her about the baby, she would push me into getting married to him.

“Mom...I...”

“Sylvia, do you want to marry him because you are pregnant with his child?”

“No...I love him too Mom.”

“Would you still want to marry him were you not pregnant with his child?”

“I...”

“Don't! Please don't. He was married..he has a grown up daughter. Life is not easy as it is and with more complications thrown in, it can become unbearable,” her voice completely steady now, she said holding my hands.

“I am sorry Mom. I have to. I can't...”

“You can't what?”

“I can't say No to him.”

“That is no reason to get married.”

“I love him mom, I promise you I love him.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“and he loves me to. I will prove you wrong mom. I will. We will.”

“You don't have to.” She said simply and that was the end of the conversation.

I married him a week later.

My mom played her part in it to perfection, but I knew that she was doing just that – playing her part. I thought I would not mind being so much in love with the man I was marrying. But it did matter to me. Every few minutes I would glance in her direction. There she would be talking to someone, laughing at a joke, taking a sip of her drink or glancing at me. I searched for some sort of approval in her eyes. I could not find it that day and I haven't found it yet. Nor was I able to prove her wrong.

Doubts had set in very early in the marriage. Things did not fall in place like I had expected them to. But I had trudged along unable to look reality in the eye. Life taught me to accept things that at one time seemed unbearable to even contemplate. Slowly but surely I found myself getting used to a small disappointment there, a slightly bigger disillusionment there and soon I found myself just going along with anything and everything that life and my spouse threw at me. There came a point when neither mattered and life became a series of footsteps one after the other.

I laughed at the memory of the starting years of my marriage how I had striven to paint a perfect picture of my marriage to my mom. Slowly the shift had occurred to prove a point to myself. Ah! The deceptions we put ourselves through, trying not to see the things that are in plain sight - trying to set aside one serious issue after another as insignificant in the larger scheme of things - trying to look for things that need us rather than things that we need so that we might find ourselves useful. To me all that represented my daughter - Joanne.

I took to her care with a vengeance. She represented the whole world to me and when I was with her, the wounds would heal themselves magically. I would be transported into a world where nothing needed to be proved, where I could be myself and be happy with who I was. But there was something about my little one that did not quite seem right. She laughed and played with me but there was a sadness in her eyes – a sadness that I attributed to her relationship with Samantha, my step daughter.

I had hoped Joanne could play a part in weakening the invisible wall Samantha had built around herself where I was concerned, the wall that she had put in place right from the day she had set eyes on me and which had grown stronger, brick by brick, with every passing year. But, alas like everyone of my hopes and dreams, I had to shelve this one too! Samantha became more and more distant. She resented me and hated Joanne with an intensity that seemed to surpass her hatred towards me.

In sharp contrast Joanne craved for her elder sister's affections. I would find her looking longingly at Samantha when she would play with the neighbor’s daughter, Kathy, who was about the same age as Joanne, but never with her. I could see that she did it to get back to me, but to my sweet little daughter it was heart breaking. I felt helpless and had tried my best to make the situation better but my hands were tied – there was nothing I could do. I died a thousand deaths whenever I found a tear trickling down Joanne's closed eyes as I tucked her into bed.

I felt bad not only that I could do nothing to help her but it hurt even more that my presence did not seem to satisfy Joanne like it used to once. There was a time when I had the ability to complete her world. Now I was a necessary presence she had gotten used to and she reached out for more exciting things. I guess every relationship takes its toll and somewhere along the way, the feeling of you being a non-entity in it is complete. The relation continues, your importance in it just diminishes.

I wished I could take away her hurt, I wished I could give her the world I had promised her to, but as with everything else in my life, I could not do anything but watch helplessly as another part which I had hoped to succeed in life seemed to be crashing around me. When had I become so powerless? What had happened? What a complete failure I was – as a daughter, as a wife and most importantly as a mother.

“Mommy...I love you,” she whispered to me as I bent to kiss her. Maybe there still was hope for me.

I got her a kitten the next day. She loved it so much. She named him “Flower” and he became a central part of her existence. She carried him around everywhere with her in a small basket that she had decorated with pink flowers, golden ribbons and red hearts. It gladdened my heart whenever I saw them together.

“Can I wear the costumer for a little longer?”. I looked at her. She was wearing the snow white costume my mom had made for her. She looked so pale in it, I wished she would take it off but I did not want to disappoint her - “OK!” I said.

“I am going out with Flower” I watched as she walked out with quite a lot of effort, trying to balance Flower in the basket, the tiara on her head and the long flowing costume.

Spring was in the air and I could smell the crisp air as she opened the door. The tulips that we had planted the year before were sprouting and I knew that would be her first stop. But I also knew eventually she would sit below the huge oak tree with Flower in her lap, pretending not to watch Samantha playing with Kathy

Joanne ventured out only when her older sister was outside. It was like she held on to a hope in her heart that one day a miracle would occur and Samantha would play with her. I refused to admit it, but I did too.

I kept watching her from the kitchen window as I did the dishes. Suddenly I saw her get up and walk towards Samantha. What had happened? I craned my neck but could not quite see what was happening. Something warned me and I made a dash for the front door. What I saw next is what my nightmares now are made of.

Flower was across the street and Joanne was walking towards him.

“Joanne...NO!” I shouted, but she did not hear. I ran towards her but she had stepped on the road. The next thing I heard was the screeching of the brakes, a thud and my own screams.

She died a few days later due to multiple organ failure, her frail little body refusing to breathe any more amidst the plethora of tubes and pipes criss crossing across her body. I had tried to talk to her. The doctor's assured me she could feel our presence inside the room. I wanted her to live, I willed her to live but she did not.

My last hope for redemption had just passed away.

I could not understand how it could've happened. How my timid little girl had found the courage to cross the street when she had never found the courage to even venture out near the curb?

Kathy amidst sobs told her mother what had happened. Flower had run away and Joanne was coming in to get me. But Samantha called out to her and had challenged her to get the kitten on her own. When she refused, Samantha called her a coward and said that if Joanne showed her she was brave enough to do cross the street and get the kitty, she would allow her to play with them.

I wept. That was all I could manage to do.

I signed the forms for the release of her dead body. I couldn't even remember my name. I just scribbled as the nurse guided my hand.

“Mrs. Lowe there is something I need to tell you. Please call me.” she said in a low voice, slipping a piece of paper into my hand.

Everyone says I went crazy after that. That I started seeing things, that I started being suspicious, starting talking about a magic mirror that showed me things I did not want to see. To that my answer would be that I had now started to see things as they were and not the way I had wanted to see them.

Yes the magic mirror guided me in seeing things. Like that day when it guided me towards the piece of paper that must've fell out of my purse. I picked up to see a telephone number scribbled onto it hastily. I could not remember what that number represented but I gave it a go.

Nurse Mathis answered. What she told me managed life to give me another shock where I had thought that no more was possible.

“Mrs.Lowe, I was hoping you would call me. I wanted to speak with you regarding a matter relating to your daughter. Can we meet somewhere?”

That was the first time I had ventured out of the house after Joanne's death.

“Mrs.Lowe, I don't know if you remember me but I used to work with your Mom, God rest her soul. She was a wonderful doctor and an even better human being. I am so sorry about your daughter. She was such a pretty little girl. Just like you when you were her age. I wanted to speak with you earlier but did not want to intrude into your pain and cause more hurt with what I believe are my own deductions. But I have to let you know. I couldn't rest from the day I overheard your husband talking to Joanne. You see Mrs. Lowe, I have suspicion to believe that he was you know...abusing... sexually abusing her.....”

I don't know what she said after that. I didn't need to know. I had found the answers to all my questions. My failure was complete.

I walked into the kitchen and saw the wolf and the murderer look at me.

“How did it go sweetie? Did you have a good time with your friend?”

I nodded.

“I need to go out for a while. We are closing in on an important contract with Children's memorial hospital. Samantha is going to be around if you need her.”

I nodded again and walked upstairs to the mirror.

“Tell me what to do.” I implored.

I saw a flash and looked up to see the reflection of the screen saver from Rob's laptop. I walked towards it.

'Email Sent to Child Services and Children memorial hospital.' The message on the screen read.

“Along with attachments of pictures of child pornography...” I said to myself.

The mirror showed me Samantha walking into her room at the other end of the corridor. I walked behind her catching an image of the knife I held in my hand in the mirror....

(The End)