Tomorrow…Maybe

• Up to 2,500 words
• Genre – Drama
• Subject – Tomorrow
• Character – A Window Dresser

Can a daughter’s forgiveness be a mother’s hope for tomorrow?

“When will I see you?”

The silence stretched on; the ticking of the wall clock the only thing Diedre could hear.

“Tomorrow…maybe.” Click. Diedre clung to the handset for another minute, listening to the recorded message. She knew there was no longer anyone on the other end but replacing the phone to the cradle would make it real. Reluctantly, she replaced the receiver and turned to make her way back to bed.

She picked up the book she had been reading, no longer interested in the plot. She tossed it to the floor as she lay back and closed her eyes, using her arm to shield them from the overhead light. All around, the sounds of clangs and raised voices beat against her head. It began to throb as she willed herself to sleep.

—

Across town, Bethany stared at the screen of her cell phone. She knew she shouldn’t keep promising to see her mother, it only made each ensuing call harder. She also knew if she didn’t, her mother may lose all hope and she did not want the responsibility of being the catalyst for another stupid decision. The handset on her desk rang and shook her from her thoughts.

“Alcoholics Anonymous, this is Bethany. How can I help you today?” Bethany listened as the person on the other end talked about her husband and his drinking problem. She spoke with the woman, providing her resources and promise of help to move forward on her own, if her husband continued down this path. The call lasted for around 20 minutes, but there was call after call to take, all similar in nature. Sometimes the caller was the alcoholic, sometimes a spouse, sometimes a child. Those were the calls that broke her heart. Hearing such a tiny voice, scared and vulnerable on the other end, trying to be brave and make choices or decisions they should never have to make.

Bethany got up and stretched, walking towards the volunteer lounge. She had been here for two hours, and it was time to leave. Nodding, she passed other volunteers on her way out the door and waived at supervisor manning the phones as she left.

Stepping into the fresh air, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Inhaling a deep breath, she held it as she counted to five, then released it along with the sadness and despair the morning had wrought. Turning left, she headed to the florist on the corner, picked up her weekly bouquet of white lilies, then headed downtown.

Bethany approached the former department store, sadness crossing her face as she did. It was the same every Saturday; two hours volunteer work, fresh lilies from the florist and the guilt ridden walk to the former site of Delany’s Department store. She walked to the main window, the sidewalk in front still littered with cards, candles, flowers from others. Plucking last week’s drooping lilies from the plastic vase, she placed the new one gently inside. She smiled at the picture of Joana Page, the subject of the memorial. Her mentor, friend, and confidant. Joana had been the head Window Dresser for Delany’s for more than 20 years. Until six months ago, when she was the victim of a drunk driver on a Saturday night, in this very spot.

Bethany closed her eyes as the memory came. It always did when she came to pay her respects.

Joana laughed and flung some of the paper confetti toward Bethany as they finished the main display window at Delany’s. It was a beautiful site, with fake snow, the mannequin family dressed in their very best ski gear, and the toy husky in the corner to add to the winter wonderland showcase. Bethany shook the confetti “snow” from her hair and threw one of the extra scarves to Joana. They picked up the rest of the materials and edged sideways out the panel in the wall.

“Do you need a ride home Bet?” Joana asked, shortening Bethany’s name as she had done since the first time they met. It had only been a year since Bethany started at Delany’s but her and Joana had hit it right off. Joana said Bethany was like the little sister she never had, despite being old enough to be Bethany’s mom.

“No,” Bethany sighed, “my mom should be here shortly. That is, I think she will be. This new boyfriend of hers seems to be bringing out the party girl in her. It’s weird, seeing my mom practically acting like a teenager.” Bethany was just out of high school herself but coming from a family of divorce where money had been tight when her dad took off, she still didn’t have the money saved up to buy a car. Joana was teaching her about window dressing since she would be looking to retire in another five or so years. She thought Bethany had the same vision and talent to take over this role by then.

“I’m sorry hon. I know it must be hard, your mom being absent so much when you were growing up and now that you’re older, she’s absent again. But back then she was doing all she could to keep a roof over your head. Sometimes, when you’ve been surviving day to day, you just want to let loose a bit.” Joana was always saying the right things to keep Bethany from being ‘done’ with her mom.

Joana unlocked the doors so they could leave, the store having closed an hour before. After closing was when they needed to dress the windows, so it would be like magic to the customers when they came in the next day. She locked the outside door behind them, and they walked to the front display.

“Well would you look at this fairy tale family vacation we’ve created!” Joana exclaimed as she clapped her hands together. “It’s like something from one of those Hallmark movies at Christmas!”. Bethany grinned as she looked at their finished work. It truly was a picture-perfect scene.

Headlights reflected in the window, but it sounded like it was coming too fast. Bethany’s heart felt caught in her throat. As if in slow motion, they turned in unison to see the speeding truck headed their way.

Tears rolled down Bethany’s face as the memory replayed in her head. Joana pushing her as hard as she could, the feel of the cold sidewalk as her shoulder and then her head hit the ground. The awful crunching sound of the glass and metal, with the smell of gas and burning rubber. The site of the display, no longer reflecting a picture-perfect wonderland but a horrifying image of death and destruction. Six months and the sights, sounds, and smells haunted her as though it was yesterday.

“I’m so sorry Joana, I’m so very sorry” she cried as she apologized. It was the same every Saturday when she returned to this spot. The building had been repaired but the department store had moved down the street. Joana was a beloved fixture in the town and in the store, and the Delany’s just couldn’t bring themselves to occupy the place where she died. They also couldn’t bring themselves to disturb the loving tribute left behind in Joana’s memory.

Wiping her tears, Bethany stood, adjusted the lilies one last time and turned to walk away.

—

Diedre had drifted off to sleep, the desire to do anything having been left by the phone when Bethany hung up. She dreamt, as she usually did, dreams of happiness that morphed into fear and confusion.

She was running in the park, chasing after Bethany as a child. Five, maybe six, Bethany’s pigtails swinging as her laughter bounced back, giggling with glee at the chase. Once Diedre caught her, she would sweep Bethany in her arms and blow raspberries on her belly until Bethany begged her, laughing with tears, to stop. The dream changed.

Diedre was laughing, drinking something fruity and dancing with a handsome man. She felt free, she felt light, she felt like she could fly. The dream changed.

Diedre was driving, but it was dark at night, and she couldn’t see much. Her heart pounded as she drove, unsure if she was chasing after something or someone, or if she was being chased. She was filled with a sense of dread, but she didn’t know why. The dream changed.

Diedre was in a hospital and Bethany stood outside the door. She was crying, with her hand pressed on the glass as she looked at Diedre. Her gaze shifted as she glanced at the man in the room. Diedre was confused; he was wearing a uniform, but not of a doctor. He was a police officer, and he was talking to her, but his voice was muffled, like she was underwater.

Diedre woke with a start, not realizing at first where she was. It was always like that now, when she’d been dreaming or even if her sleep was just a blank haze. It would take her thirty seconds or more to realize where she was. Her eyes adjusted; the light not nearly as bright now that the sun had gone down. She rose from her bunk and went to the sink, splashing water on her face. Leaving her cell, she headed to the “chow hall” to join her fellow prisoners for dinner.

She joined the line, plastic tray in hand and walked down the stainless-steel bar, as prison workers slapped food on the tray. It was hard to believe she had been here for six months already, eating the same tasteless food, dreaming the same confusing dreams, having the same conversation each Saturday with her daughter.

“Tomorrow…maybe.” She hadn’t seen Bethany since the verdict and anytime she asked when she would see her, that would be her only reply. It was such a challenge for Diedre, each time they talked. She knew Bethany would say “tomorrow…maybe” and she would allow herself to hope that this would be the week that her only daughter would show. But somehow, deep down each week, she knew this Sunday would pass like every other Sunday had passed since the Monterey Women’s Correctional Facility had become her new home. Alone.

She ate her meal in silence, not socializing with the other inmates. They left her alone and she returned the favor. She did not want to be comfortable here, she did not want to make friends. She wanted to wake up and go to sleep and repeat that cycle every day for the next two thousand three hundred and seventy-five days, give or take seven hundred for good behavior. Seven years, with a possibility of parole in five.

—

Bethany arrived at the new store location, walking as she always did, through the back door to the employee lounge. She was surprised when the Delany’s didn’t fire her, though she knew logically Joana’s death wasn’t her fault. But it was her mother’s fault. Drunk from her date with her new boyfriend, who disappeared right after the arrest, she had driven to pick up Bethany from work with a blood alcohol level of 0.23%, almost three times the legal limit. She didn’t hit the brakes until the last minute. Joana had saved Bethany’s life but lost her own.

Bethany hung her bag in her locker and picked up the supplies she needed. The store wouldn’t close for another two hours, but she needed time to lay out the design and make sure she had all the materials she would need to create a stunning display.

“Bethany, how are you this evening?” William Delany asked as he walked into the supply room. He carried the same coffee cup in his hand he had used for more than 30 years. The inside was just as black as the coffee he drank. The cup was a one-year award he earned from his first job, and he told anyone who asked that it reminded him of where he came from.

“I’m okay Mr. Delany, how are you?”

“Fine, fine” he replied. They exchanged small talk for a few minutes longer and Mr. Delany left to room to go ‘make his rounds’. She liked Mr. Delany, but she was relieved when he left. She always sensed a sympathy from him that she still did not feel was deserved. Sure, she had suffered a dislocated shoulder and mild concussion when Joana had shoved her out of the way, but Joana had died. Bethany did not see herself as a victim, rather an accomplice of sorts, since it was her mother. Her mother that was drunk. Her mother who drove intoxicated. Her mother that took another person’s life.

Had she let Joana take her home, she would still be here. Survivor’s guilt ran strong through her bones. It was why she volunteered at the Alcoholics Anonymous call center and why she bought fresh lilies for the memorial every Saturday. She needed to make amends for her mother’s actions. She needed to keep the remorse and disgrace fresh, so she could remember and not make the same mistakes her mother had made.

Around ten that evening, Bethany was putting the finishing touches on the display window. She was so wrapped up in her work, that she didn’t hear Mrs. Delany approach and she startled at the soft hand on her shoulder.

Heart thumping, Bethany turned and apologized, “Mrs. Delaney, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you coming” she explained.

“No worries, dear,” the older woman replied. “It’s quite lovely, what you’ve done here. I think the summer vibes are just what the town needs to shake off the last remnants of the record cold temperatures we had this winter.”

“I’m so glad you like it” Bethany replied, as she stepped out the back of the display area.

“It’s Saturday dear, are you going to go see your mom tomorrow?” Alanna Delany was a firm believer in forgiveness and second changes. She knew how much Bethany had struggled with the guilt and shame of what her mother had done. She had counseled Bethany many times to simply go see her mother and give Diedre the change to apologize, even if it wouldn’t bring Joana back. “I am sure she misses you very much,” Mrs. Delany continued, looking at Bethany with the same sympathy her husband had earlier.

“Tomorrow…maybe.”

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