“It’s Tina,” I said. “With the striped stockings.” I lifted my ankle-length skirt to reveal the rainbow over-the-knee socks I had mostly stopped wearing. Today had been an exception, since I would be so close to Peanut again. I had worn them practically every day back when Stella knew me.
“Tina!” Her face brightened. She reached over to the woman and squeezed her arm. “This is one of my other mothers,” she said to her. “Her baby is laid to rest here as well.”
The two women moved among the graves to come closer. Stella took one of my hands between both of hers and clasped it tightly. “It is so good to see you,” she said. “You are all grown up.”
This made the other woman tilt her head. I realized they had just placed a vase of flowers and a half-dozen balloons at one of the graves. “Is it an anniversary?” I asked the other woman.
She nodded. “One year. Stella kindly offered to come out here with me since my husband also recently passed away.”
My stomach turned over. Stella released my hand and draped her arm around the woman. “So many ways for life to be hard,” she said. “So many ways.”
The woman hugged Stella. “Thank you for meeting me,” she said. “I’m going to go.”
“Let me know how you are doing,” Stella said. “Don’t be a stranger.”
The woman headed back toward the parking lot. Stella turned back to me. “Is this your mother? I see an amazing resemblance.”
My stomach flipped again. I had never seen anything similar about us.
“I’m Marcella,” Mom said. “Tina’s mom.”
“I knew it,” Stella said. Her round face beamed beneath a halo of fluffed-up hair. She reached out to shake my mother’s hand. “We never met back in the day.”
“Back in the day?” Mom’s face was filled with confusion. “When Tina lived here?”
“Stella ran the pregnancy loss group,” I said.
“Oh,” Mom said. She smiled at Stella. “That was so helpful to Tina.”
Like she’d know. I felt resentment rise up again. “At least somebody helped,” I said before I could stop myself.
Mom flinched as if she’d been struck.
Stella stepped close and slid her arm inside the crook of my elbow. “Those were hard times,” she said, all matter-of-fact. “Let’s walk to your sweet baby’s grave.”
Did she know where it was? I tried to recall bringing her here, but I was pretty sure I never had. We walked toward the beach-ball bush, then off toward Peanut. My mother followed at a distance.
“How do you know where it is?” I asked her.
“I don’t,” she said merrily. “You’re leading.”
I realized that yes, I was setting the direction, even though it felt as though Stella was in charge. She was good at that, acting like she was doing the pushing when really you were going where you needed to go. My belly unclenched.
“I’m here a lot,” she said. “Many of my mothers end up here.”
“You still run that group after all these years?” I asked.
“I do,” she said. “Most women have their own babies and move on, but for me, my greatest accomplishment is all of you.”
We arrived at Peanut’s grave. I realized for the second time that I had brought nothing for the empty flower vase built into the stone. No matter, I was getting him out of here. He would never have to lie beneath an empty cup again.
“Are you back in Houston to stay?” Stella asked.
“I’m just here to get Peanut’s remains,” I said. I kneeled down by his stone. “I don’t like the idea of him down here in the ground.”
“Where are you taking him?” she asked, pressing her hand into the grass to balance herself as she sat beside me.
“I’m having him cremated.”
She brushed some dirt off his nameplate. “That’s a nice idea. Then you can have him with you.”
She understood. I felt calmer. It was always good to be with someone who got what you were after.
My mother caught up to us and sat down on the other side of me. “Did she tell you her crazy idea?” she said to Stella.
And just like that, I exploded.
“Are you kidding me?” I shouted. “If you had just done what I asked, I wouldn’t have to be doing this now!”
Instead of looking away, as she once would have, my mother stared me down. Her hair blew around her face, disturbing her perfect arrangement. “You said a lot of things during that time.” Her voice held a note of bitterness. “I never knew what you really meant and what you just said to upset me.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I didn’t remember talking to her much at all. I stayed hidden out in the garage apartment as much as possible during this period.
“We weren’t exactly close,” I said, forcing my voice down. I avoided looking over at Stella. No telling what she was thinking about this.
“No, we weren’t,” she said. “Not by then. You were a very sweet child, happy and energetic. But adolescence was hard for you. You changed completely.” She leaned forward and looked at Stella. “You know how they are.”
“Actually, all three of my babies died,” Stella said. “Never had a teenager.”