Mother's Day Getaways Quotes

It was easier with Mother--always had been--less complicated, less treacherous. I didn't have to be on my guard so much. I didn't have to watch what I said all the time for fear of inflicting a wound. Being alone with her on those weekend getaways was like curling up into a soft cloud, and, for a couple of days, everything that had ever troubled me fell away, inconsequentially, a thousand miles below.

She’d need to find room in her compact kitchen for a high chair. Her second bedroom, which she now used as an office and craft room, would become the baby’s. A sense of excitement filled her, unlike anything she’d ever experienced. This was her baby, her very own child. This time she’d do everything right. This time there wasn’t a man standing in the way. High on enthusiasm, she reached for the phone and dialed her sister’s number. She felt closer to Kelly than she had in years. The weekend getaway had brought them together again, all three of them. How wise her mother had been to arrange it. “I didn’t get you up, did I?” she asked when her sister answered. Tyler bellowed in the background. “That’s a joke, right?” Maryellen smiled. “You doing anything special for lunch?” “Nothing in particular. What do you have in mind?” “Can you meet me at the Pot Belly Deli?” “Sure.” Kelly had the luxury of being a stay-at-home mother. Paul and Kelly had waited years for this baby and were determined to make whatever sacrifices were necessary. That option—staying with her baby—wasn’t available to Maryellen. She’d have to find quality day care and wasn’t sure where to even start. Just before noon, Kelly arrived at the gallery, pushing Tyler in his stroller. At nine months, the little boy sat upright, waving his chubby hands, cooing happily and directing the world from his seat. “Let’s grab some soup from the deli and eat down by the waterfront,” Kelly suggested. It was a lovely spring day after a week of rain, and the fresh air would do them all good. “Sounds like a great idea,” Maryellen told her. Practical, too, since it would be easier to amuse Tyler at the park than in a crowded restaurant. Maryellen phoned in their order and her sister trekked down to grab a picnic table. Several other people had the same idea, but she’d secured a table for them by the time Maryellen got there. Sitting across from her sister, Maryellen opened her container of chicken rice soup and stirred it with a plastic spoon. Cantankerous seagulls circled overhead, squawking for a handout, but Maryellen and Kelly ignored them. “I

OK, well, I guess they’ll have to do,” Mrs. Grimm said as she moved toward the door. “Good night, girls. I’m very happy to have you here. I hope pancakes for breakfast will suit you.” “Absolutely!” Daphne cheered. The old woman gave her a wink and disappeared into the hall. “She’s nice,” said Daphne. “Everyone who offers you pancakes is nice.” Sabrina clenched her fists. “But she’s not fooling me. Get some sleep. We’re running away—tonight.” Sabrina lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to her hungry belly grumble, and planning their getaway. With a little luck she and Daphne could hide in a neighbor’s garage for a couple of days and then hitchhike back to New York City. Smirt would be furious to see them again. She might even act on her threat to skin them alive, but the girls needed to be at the orphanage when their mother and father returned. When the moon was high in the window, Sabrina nudged her sister awake. “We have to go,” she whispered. Daphne sat up and rubbed her eyes, her face full of heartbreak. Why was she acting like such a baby? Sabrina wondered. Running away wasn’t exactly a new experience for the two of them. The sisters Grimm had pulled off many daring escapes from foster parents in the past. They’d tied bedsheets together and climbed out of the Mercers’ window one night, feeding the pit bull, Diablo, meatballs stuffed with cayenne pepper to keep him busy. And after the Johnsons ordered pizza, the girls had slipped into the backseat of the delivery boy’s car and were miles away before anyone noticed. Mrs. Grimm was no different than any of the other crazies. Eventually Daphne would understand.