Memories
Roberta stepped out of the bookstore clutching the navy blue shopping bag that held her latest acquisition to her chest. She never noticed as the winds gusted around her, tossing her faded red hair about her thin face.
A smile lit up Roberta’s face as she thought, “Nikita darling, I found your favorite one, I’ve almost completed the collection for you.” With a quick look up at the storm cloud-filled sky, Roberta started walking quickly to the bus stop.
Luck was with her that day; the bus was pulling up just as she arrived at the stop. Grateful to be out of the cold wind, that cut through her thick pea coat and woolen slacks like a sharp edged knife; Roberta wasted no time in climbing the three steps into the bus. As the odors of humanity washed over her, she dropped her change into the coin receptacle and made her way past faceless men and women to a seat in the back.
Roberta leaned her weary body back into the unyielding bus seat. She stared out the grimy window at the elegantly decorated store windows as the bus released it’s air brakes and with a jerk, pulled out into traffic. “It’ll be a year tomorrow,” she thought as her fingers gently caressed the shape of the book in her shopping bag. “A year since I lost my baby.” She closed her eyes as a tear slowly trickled down her gaunt cheek
Unable to stop the direction her mind was taking her, Roberta gave in to the pull of her memories. She had been sitting at her desk drinking a cup of coffee when there was a soft knock at the door. Surprised to have a visitor at that time of the day, quite frankly she was surprised to have a visitor period; Roberta got up from the desk and pulled her old sweater tightly around her body and went to the door. When she looked through the peephole, she was shocked to see that handsome private detective, which had taken over the search for Nikita.
“My, my, my,” she thought. “If I were twenty years younger, I would take a stab at having this one.” She let out a soft laugh and gave a mental shrug saying out loud, “Oh well, at least I can dream.”
She opened the battered door a few inches and stared into the man’s amazing green eyes. “He has the feral look of a wild animal stalking its prey,” she thought as she asked, “yes?”
His look softened briefly before he asked politely, “May I come in, I’ve found your daughter.”
Roberta remembered feeling her heart stop beating as his words registered on her brain “You found Nikita?” She whispered, not believing she had heard him correctly the first time.
“Yes.” He replied in his faintly accented voice.
For two minutes she had been allowed the joy of knowing her daughter was alive, before her world came crashing down again.
Roberta was suddenly jerked out of her reverie when the bus lurched to a stop. A boisterous group of teenagers piled in. They were Mtalking and laughing, without a care in the world so it seemed. Roberta smiled as they milled around looking for seats. They seemed to fill the otherwise dark, drab interior of the bus with sunshine and brilliant color.
Her stop approached and she pulled up her shopping bag to make her way down the aisle. Although her thoughts were sad, her step was lighter. She was only a few minutes away from her children.
A few minutes later she stood in front of a gray stone house. Weathered stairs led up to a deep verandah with a hanging swing at one end and rocking chairs scattered around. Although it was winter and the flower boxes were empty of their colorful plants, it was still an inviting place to sit and watch the world go by. Roberta walked up to the double doors, the leaded windows covered with lace curtains. Ringing the bell, she waited for someone to let her in.
As she stood there listening to the sounds of laughter from within, she felt like someone was watching her. Sensing no danger, she slowly turned and looked up and down the street, but there were only cars parked along the sides of the tree-lined road. Seeing no one in any of the cars, Roberta decided it was her imagination and turned back to the door just as it was opened by a little girl, her hair in braids. She was holding a spoon half-covered with chocolate batter and was licking it with a big grin on her face.
“Hi Miss Roberta,” she said. Holding out the spoon she offered, “Wanna lick?”
Laughing, Roberta leaned down and delicately licked the edge of the spoon. Closing her eyes for a second before giving the tiny girl a beautiful smile, “Ummmm, Margaret…that is sooo good. What are you making?”
“Me and Miss Charlotte are baking brownies.” Margaret replied. “I gotta get back to the kitchen,” but she was looking at the shopping bag in Roberta’s hand. “What you got there, Miss Roberta?”
Roberta gave the little girl a smile and said, “it’s a surprise sweetie, it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else if I told you before them, now would it?’
Margaret wrinkled her face up as she thought for a second and then she grinned and said, “nope, I better go before Miss Charlotte comes after me…see ya.” With her braids flying out behind her, Margaret took off down the hall at a run.
Roberta laughed at Margaret’s antics as she took her coat off and hung it up on the coat rack next to the door. She had to hunt to find a free hook between all the children’s coats stuffed together.
Finding a space, she quickly made her way across the hall to the library. Entering through the ornately carved wooden doors, she paused to take in the room. Filled with wall to wall shelves, all loaded with books, the room had overstuffed couches and comfortable armchairs scattered around. Floor to ceiling windows on two walls let in loads of natural light, but there were plenty of lamps to give light when needed. An inviting fire was going in the huge fireplace across from the door drawing Roberta towards it’s warmth.
She walked over to sit down in one of the well cushioned armchairs in front of the fireplace and put her feet up on the ottoman in front of it.
“Now,” she said to herself. “I can look at what I got for you baby.”
Reaching down into the bag she pulled out a book covered in faded blue cloth. Tarnished gilt lettering proclaimed the title, “The Hidden Staircase” and below that in smaller letters, by Caroline Keene.
Roberta caressed the worn book gently, a soft smile on her face as she remembered Nikita as a little girl. Her nose was forever stuck in a book. Nancy Drew was her favorite series. How she loved to solve the mystery before the end of the book. Roberta still had the slips of paper where Nikita had written down what she thought would happen and then the two of them would finish the book together. Not surprisingly, Nikita was usually correct.
“Ah baby, I wish you could be here, but at least you’re in a better place.” Roberta sighed deeply. A couple of months after Nikita had died; the detective had come to her door again. This time he had an insurance check with him. Apparently, Nikita had taken out a life insurance policy at some time or another and had made Roberta her beneficiary. There had been more than enough money to set up this center for homeless girls. With the money from the check and donations the center would be financially sound for years.
Roberta with her partner Charlotte Greene had taken in fourteen girls between six and fifteen years old. They had room for six more. Soon, the house would be full. “Nikita would be proud of me,” Roberta thought. “I didn’t get to her in time, but at least I can help these girls before they end up like she did, and they are learning to love Nancy Drew the way she did.”
While inside the house was filled with warm and laughter, outside stood a tall blond woman. Her hair whipped around her face as silent tears trickled down her face. She lowered the binoculars as a man in a black, wool trench coat approached her. He pulled off his thin, black, leather glove and with his thumb wiped her tears away saying quietly, “Nikita…it’s time to go.”