CHAPTER TWOSECOND CHANCE
The brisk fresh smell of the new fallen snow was heavy in the air. I
stepped out the front door of the shop and took a deep breath, letting the
cool crisp air fill my lungs. It made them feel clean and new. It always
made me feel good. The blue-purple haze of the mountains were now
replaced by white caps of snow. Much like the ice cream cones I used to
devour in the summers as a child. Up close the trees were so beautiful.
Their branches heavy laden with snow, almost to the point of cracking under
the pressure. Snowbirds filled the air singing their joyous songs. It was
indeed the best time of year.
Tourist began to fill the streets of Aspen. Another season of
happy-go-lucky vacationers. They were want-to-be preppy ski bums. Acting
as if they had lived here all their lives, not for one or two weeks. Not that
it made any difference to me. I didn’t ski much. Bit of a chicken. I ran this
quaint little novilty shop, specializing in photography. I had several wooden
cut outs that people posed in. Or if they wanted, took pictures of them and
their families on the slopes. It seemed to be a profitable idea. The shop
included the usual T-shirts, ashtrays and knick knacks that people wanted to
remember their trip by. But it also had some photographs that I had taken
in my stint in Europe and some from here in Colorado. We, Sophia and I, also
offered a small coffee room where people could relax and enjoy a cup of
coffee and doughnut if they were so inclined. We realized a few years ago,
some people, like myself, didn’t ski. A place to relax and enjoy the beautiful
sight of the mountain, was needed. Of course they had their hotels and bed
and breakfasts, but the side of our shop held the most spectacular view of
the Rockies. It wasn’t the place they skied down. It was the opposite
direction. Untouched by humans. A free and open spirit calling down from
the mountain. It said to me every morning, Hello Meagan!
Sophia the owner of this shop, was a cheerful old woman. She had
lived in Colorado all her life. The people who were running it for her had
left suddenly, and she needed a clerk. I had just came here for the winter,
like the other tourist. That was some five years ago. I had spent the first
year after college in Paris. It was a kind of retreat for me. I needed some
solace time to get my life back on the right track. My father was more than
happy to send me away after the scandal I had created at college. So I
traveled throughout Europe. It was exciting, yet lonely. I knew no one and
spoke very little French. But, I survived and grew strong from the
experience. I also found that writing wasn’t my only niche in life. I loved
photography. I found it was true, that a picture is worth a thousand words.
I think my inspiratino came from The Louvre. The museum filled with
majical pictures. Nowhere I imagine are the sights so breathtaking as in
Paris. It was more than I was expecting. Not only the usual touristy things
like the Eiffel Tower, Sacre Coeur, and such, but people and small villages
also. One village just outside of Nanterre, just off the beaten path, as
they sayis where I spent most of the year. Stockpiled up with books,
magazines, and a new camera. My first shot was of the cottage. It was
surrounded with dozens of Lily’s, each in full bloom. The aroma could almost
be smelled through the picture. From then on I took pictures of everything
and everyone. I’m sure people thought I was nuts, at least.
It was just before Christmas when I began to feel something strange
going on. My pregnancy was uneventful until then. I really had not much of
any idea what to expect. The nurses that I had been seeing just told me
that I would know when to come to the hospital. Well, I knew then it must
be time. Sure enough, Christmas Eve, I delivered a 8 pound 3 ounce baby
girl. So beautiful were her screams. So unprepared I was to give her up, to
keep her. Both. I don’t remember signing the final paper. I just remember
the tears. They wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t make them. I wanted to curl up
and die once more. I wanted once again to slap Steve across the face and
make him feel the pain I was feeling. I wanted more than anything for him
to hurt as badly as I did. But that wasn’t going to happen. They assured me
that the baby would have a wonderful home. A loving couple who couldn’t
have children of their own was going to give her a home. She would have a
mother and a father. I knew I could never give her the things she needed.
My father had forbidden me to contact him if I kept the child. He said he
would not be shamed by me ever again. Gave me money of course to get rid
of the problem and sent me here to take care of it. I knew he had meant
abortion. I knew that’s what they all wanted me to do. But I just couldn’t.
I couldn’t kill the little life in me. It would be impossible. So I kept it a
secret from all of them. My letters I sent back home were full of lies. Not
that it mattered. How many lies had they told me? How many times had I
been pushed aside to let their needs come first? At least his needs. What
I remember of my mother were good things. Of course I was only 5 when
she died. I wanted so much to have a mother.
My thoughts were interrupted by Sophia. She was needing some help
restocking the postcards. Nearly seventy, she was one in a million. Her
eyesight was failing, and she didn’t quite get around like she used to, but
never-the-less, she insisted on helping out every day. Sophia was unpacking
a box of postcards that we just received. It was hard for her to distinguish
the pictures and where they went on the carousel. The customers were
beginning to stream into the shop, the Holiday’s were growing near. After
Thanksgiving, that’s when they came by the busloads. I watched as the
streets began to bustle with rented cars. The sidewalks were crowded with
bright colored ski suits. No doubt the first time worn.
Mid afternoon came quickly, and Sophia went to go lie down. I picked
up the feather duster and began to dust off the small collection of books. I
overheard a little girl say, “Daddy, may I purchase this postcard. It has a
wonderful picture of a pony on it. See” Her voice had a distinct French
accent. She held up to his face so he could examine it more closely. “Yes, I
see. And you do love horses, don’t you?” He knelt down beside the little girl.
Putting his arm around her, he said, “Of course you may have the postcard.”
She kissed him on the cheek and smiled. “You may pick one at to send to
your Grandmother too.” The little girls brown eyes lit up as she began to
look through the carousel of cards again. The man patted the little girl on
the head and began to look the framed photo’s on the wall. I tried not to be
nosey and watch their every move, but there was something about them. I
know I didn’t know them. Maybe it was the familiar French accent that had
me entranced. He, this blond haired man, picked up the black and white
picture of the Eiffel Tower hanging on the wall. I remember taking that
one, I said to myself. I shot it just before a horrendous thunderstorm hit.
The background showed the luminous black clouds with streaks of lightning
flashing through. In the foreground stood the Tower, majestic and
powerful. It was undoubtedly one of my favorites. I imagined he was
attracted to it because of the familiarity of the picture. Something from
his home, I would assume. “Daddy,” the little girl was tugging on his shirt.
“I found another one with a pony on it. Do you think Grandmother would like
it?” She was looking at the two postcards in her hands. “Oh yes, Molly. I’m
sure she will.” He looked kind of somber. Not at all like the happy man I
had seen just seconds ago. I couldn’t help but wonder what he saw in the
picture to make him sad. Maybe it wasn’t the picture at all, but a memory. I
didn’t have much time to dwell on it. They came to the register to check
out. The little girl proudly placed her selection on the counter. “These are
for me and my Grandmother.” She looked up at her father, all smile. I
looked at her and then to her father, did I know them? He fidgeted with
her long brown hair as she spoke to me. “My Molly is a bit excited. It is her
first time away from home.” He explained.
“How nice you get to travel. Are you on Holiday then?” I asked, knowing
that school was probably out.
She looked up at her father, “Are we Daddy?” Her questioning eyes
beckoning an answer.
“Yes, we are on Holiday.” He said handing me the money for the postcards.
“I couldn’t help but admire the photographs of Paris. Who took them?” I
felt funny telling him it was I for some reason. He complimented me on my
eye for the unusual. As they were leaving the shop, the little girl, who was
holding her fathers hand, looked back at me again and pointed. “Look
Daddy, we have the same eyes.”
“So you do, don’t you.” Then he leaned down and whispered, “But it’s not
polite to point.”
My heart nearly stopped. It couldn’t be. I shook my head, wanting the
memory to leave. I reasoned with myself. There must be a million little girls
out there with beautiful big brown eyes.
“Maegan, is something wrong?” I heard Sophia asking. She placed her hand
on my shoulder. “Maegan?”
“No,” a choked back a tear, ” I was just thinking about closing up. I am kind
of tired and it’s nearly 5:30.” She agreed and we began the task of
straitening up the shelves. I was folding the shirts when something caught
my eye. On the floor underneath the carousel of postcards was a wallet. A
little pink and white flowered wallet. I squatted down and picked it up. My
curiosity was stronger than my moral sense. I knew who it belonged to. I
didn’t have to look inside for an address or name. Little girls don’t have
identification cards. But I had to open it. I had to see what treasures she
held dear to her. Slowly I undid the snap that held it shut. There she was.
She looked to be about two years old. Her hair was not as long as it was
today, but her eyes were the same. She was being held a woman who looked
much like the man she was with today. She, too, was blond. The lady in the
picture was smiling looking down at the young child she held on her hip. I
looked closer at the picture. In the background I could see the
unmistakable legs of the Eiffel Tower.
At that moment there was a banging on the glass of the front door. I
jumped at the sound. It was the man and little girl. I couldn’t move for a
moment. My head was spinning. It was Sophia who unlocked the door letting
them in. “My little Molly seems to have dropped her wallet. . .” He stopped
seeing it opened in my hands. “Yes. I think I have found it.” I closed the
snap and handed it to him. His smile was somewhat forced as he thanked
me. The little girl’s tear streaked face lit up as her father handed her the
wallet. “Now I have Mommy back.” she boasted as she hugged her father.
A puzzled look came across my face. She must have meant the picture of
her and her mother. The father turned to me and quietly said. “Her mother
died three years ago. This is her favorite picture of her mother. Thank you
for keeping it for us.” He picked up the little girl and left. “Bye .” she
waved as the door shut behind them.
I was unable to move. My heart had stopped. I felt as though all the
life was slowly draining out of me. I wanted to run after them and ask,
foolish or not, if she was mine. I felt a disconnected, confused, and elated
all at the same time. I felt crazy. What made me think this was little angel
was the same one I had given birth to five years earlier? Molly. What a
wonderful name.
The next week was unusually busy. The must have been some kind of a
convention in town. I had never seen so many non-skiers in town before.
They were hustling from one establishment to another, taking back
mementos from their trip to those left behind. I wrapped more ashtrays
and ski figurines that week than the last two months combined. They
enjoyed the comical photo scenes too. Grown men laughing behind the
twisted paintings of skiers. Scrunched faces in the holes made the pictures
even more hilarious. I couldn’t help myself but giggle at each shot. My
favorite was when the other men decided to throw snowballs at the
‘targets’. You would have thought they were school boys once again.
I enjoyed the busy time. It made the memories not so readily
available. I had actually spent two whole days without thoughts of Molly
running constantly through my head. I had just about resigned myself as
being insane. Luckily I had come to the conclusion that it was the time of
year that had me on the memory merry-go-round. It was exactly 5 years to
the day that I had given birth. December 24. Every year at this time I
would buy a handful of balloons and go somewhere, like the park, and release
them. It was a birthday celebration of sorts. A special moment where I
could wish my daughter a happy birthday, where ever she might be.
It was nearly noon. Sophia was going to have a sandwich and tea and
asked if I would like to join her. I politely declined. Knowing my balloons
would be waiting. I headed to the party shop on East Cooper Street. It was
just a few blocks away. There I picked up my colorful assortment of helium
filled balloons, all tied with festive ribbons. I grabbed a notecard and
wrote, to my baby, Happy 5th Birthday. I paid the clerk and headed to the
park for my solitary celebration. I found an empty bench located on the
east end of the park. There I sat down and had some quiet time reflecting
on the years past and how my life had changed so dramatically. Was it time
now to seriously think about settling down and starting my own family?
Martin, who worked across the street at the restaurant had been hounding
me for several months now to date him. We had been to the movies a couple
of times, and he was nice. But he didn’t stir any emotions deep inside me.
Maybe I was still bitter about Steve. Maybe I would hold a grudge on men
all my life and end up an old maid spinster. Maybe I would end up with no
children of my own. No one to watch grow up. No little tears to wipe away.
No skinned knee’s to kiss. No first steps, first smiles. No nothings. There
I was again, drowning in my own sorrows. I was nearly 29 years old. I had
put my life on hold long enough. Somehow I had to get out of this slump and
get on with living and loving. Stop being driven insane by the men in my life
who had abused me and used me and just plain ignored me. Right then I
decided today and the rest of my life would be different. I would right this
very minute start anew. I stood up, wiped the tears from my cheeks, looked
up into the blue white sky and shouted, “Happy Birthday!” and let my parade
of balloons go. Instantly they caught flight and headed towards the
mountains. I felt as though I was being lifted with them. As though my
burdens had been torn away. I shouted again, “Happy Birthday!” Just then
I heard her voice again. I turned around to see her and her father. “Look
Daddy, it must be her birthday too.” Did I hear her right? Was it truly her
birthday? My head began to spin. I felt hot and cold all at once. I saw the
man smile at me but I couldn’t respond. I felt sick. “Oh my God.”
I couldn’t move. I pleaded with my feet to move towards them. I
urged my voice to ask. To just say hello. To do something other then just
stand there with my jaw open. Once again I had missed my chance. I
watched as the two strangers got in their car and left.