Under the shade of a tree

May 1925 

She stood in the small clapboard house and watched as he planted the baby tree in the backyard. John had bought her that tree so that it could grow with the new baby they were going to bring into the world. Sarah rested her hand on the mound of her growing stomach and swore there had to be more than one inside. 

John wiped the soil onto his pants before he walked back into the house. He’d been a beautiful man with flame-red hair of the Scottish and eyes dark like his Italian mother. They’d met in grammar school and had only been apart when he’d gone to fight in the war. John hadn’t been the same when he returned---quieter, more distant, but she’d hoped that their marriage and a new baby would brighten his spirits. 

“The baby loves the tree.” Sarah placed a chaste kiss on John’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“It’ll be a good, strong tree.” He patted her back and stretched his own. “What's for supper tonight, Sarah?”

“I’m making roast, potatoes, and...Ow.” She rubbed her back where a sudden ache built. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I...think it's time to have a child.” 

John paced around the waiting room for news of his wife's status and his child’s birth. “Mr. Mackay?”

The doctor, grim-faced and bloody, stood in the doorway. “Your wife did not survive. But your children did. A boy and A girl. They are in the nursery.”

His brain went blank as he stared at the doctor. “What?”

The doctor lit a cigarette and ran a hand through his hair. “Your wife couldn’t stop bleeding. But we managed to say the babies. Two of them.”

“Can I see her?”

“Sorry, no. She’s already been taken away, but your babies are in the nursery, and you’re free to see them.”

“What?” John numbly walked towards the nursery and the sound of screaming babies. The nurse held each of his kids up to him. 

“Do you have a name for them, Mr. Mackay?”

“A name?” He couldn’t seem to process what was happening. “Ah, no. Sarah’d know, but I...don’t know.” 

The nurse frowned at him but sat the babies back into their bassinets. 

May 1935 

“Sarah-May, get off your brother and get down out of that tree!” Mary shook her head as she bounced her infant daughter on her hip. “That girl is wild. I think she needs some lessons.” 

John took a deep drink of his whiskey as he eyed his wife. He’d married Mary a few months after Sarah had gone to the Lord. She’d raised his children as her own and been a decent wife to him. He’d avoided giving her a child of her own for many years, but she’d threatened to leave him if he refused much longer. So, he’d been forced to give in to his fear, and they’d been gifted Anna a few months ago. 

“Sarah-May is fine, Mary. Let her be. You never say that William needs to go get lessons. He just runs wild.” 

Mary huffed. “You know very well, John MacKay, that life is different for girls.” 

He kissed her cheek absently before filling his glass again. “I know.” He walked into the sitting room and sat to read his paper before dinner time. 

“Sarah-May! I mean it! Get out of that tree, girl!” 

Sarah-May laughed as she swung upside down from her tree. Her mama always worried too much, and she didn’t have any idea why. Probably because her mama had never swung from a tree herself, if she had, she’d love the rush that it gave her---that's why Sarah-May loved doing it. She dangled and watched her twin brother William shimmy down the trunk at the call from their mama. 

“Sarah-May! You better get down before Mama gets the whip stick.” William shouted up at her. 

Sarah rolled her eyes and swung faster. Mama would have to catch her first. Sarah wondered how high off the ground she was...it seemed like miles and miles. Laughing, she swung herself faster from the branch. 

“Sarah-May! Get down right now!” Mary shouted. When Sarah-May still ignored her, Mary walked in and sat Anna on the floor at her husband's feet. “I'm getting the stick.” She muttered. 

“Okay, Mary.” John’s absent response grated, but she said nothing.   

“Mama! Mama! Sarah-May!” William ran into the house in a flurry of panic. “She fell!” 

“William, watch Anna!” John ran with Mary on his heels towards the tree. 

Sarah-May was crumpled at the base of the tree. Her arm bent in an ungodly way, and her eyes opened unblinkingly. John fell to his knees to scoop his daughter up. “Find the doctor, Mary!” 

The night they laid his baby girl in the ground, John sat three sheets to the wind underneath the tree he’d planted in love that had killed his eldest daughter. Now both his Sarah’s were gone. 

May 1945 

He’d been wounded six times in the Great War and was finally allowed to come home. William had been in every country in Europe from England to the shores of Normandy to the woods of Germany, but he was happy to be alive enough to walk back onto his father's farm. He watched his Mama hang the sheets on the line, and as they flapped in the spring wind---a peace washed over him. 

“Mama?” 

When she turned, he saw she was with child again. After Sarah-May had passed on, his father had become something of a baby machine. He now had eight siblings, and it looked like that would be nine in a few months. 

“William!” She jogged over to him and hugged him tightly. 

He smiled for her and touched her protruding stomach. “Another babe then?” 

She tucked a pin back into her hair. “Yes. Hopefully, the last one. Your father will be thrilled you're home.” She slid her arm through his and steered him into the tiny house that was full of chaos. “William is home!” She shouted, and an army of feet pounded through the house. 

William had been gone over two years, but it was as if nothing had changed. Mary sat the table for dinner, gathered all the children, and fed everyone. His father, John, came to the table noticeably drunk, ate, and left without a word. As John left, William looked at Mary, who gave him a tired smile. 

“He’s glad you’re home safe.” Mary sighed---the ache in her back was becoming more bothersome every day. 

“I’m sure he is.”

William hadn’t been able to sleep without nightmares for what seemed like forever. Now resting on the small, uncomfortable couch in the living room, the monsters seemed like dreams. Sighing, he got up and wandered to the kitchen. He spotted a shadow outside near the tree and focused on it---his father was sitting at the base of the tree. 

William grabbed his coat. “Father?”

His dad slowly lifted his head. “What’re doing out here?”

“I couldn’t sleep. What are you doing out here?”

“Same. I come to sit, sometimes, with your mother and sister.”

“My mother?”

“Yeah. Mary isn’t your mother. At least not your birth mother. Sarah...died giving you and Sarah-May life.”

William slid down next to him. “Wow.”

They spoke no more but shared that flask of whiskey both lost in the past. 

May 1955

“Gonna be a married man after today.” Mary smiled as she tied Williams' bow tie. 

“I’m the luckiest man. Rose is a good woman.” William ignored the butterflies that floated around his stomach. 

“Wish you father could be here to see it. He’d be so proud.”

“He’s here in spirit.” They’d found John slumped over at the base of the tree on a hot July morning a few years ago.

William walked Mary to her seat in the front row and sat her next to her new husband, Albert. William hadn’t been thrilled when his mother had remarried so soon after his father's passing. Still, he’d understood that with nine babies, she’d needed a husband, and his father's business partner Albert had been the perfect candidate.

William stood under the blossoming tree and felt his heart skip a beat when Rose stepped into view with her arm tucked in her father's. She had her red hair bound in the current fashion and wore a slim dress in heavy white lace. Like an angel, she floated to him. 

He took her hands from her father and thanked him for giving Rose to him. They promised to love, honor and obey each other under the beautiful tree, and as the I Do’s were said, a warm breeze rustled the branches and rained pink and white blossoms all over them. Rose lifted her face and laughed. William considered it a blessing from his parents and sister on his new marriage. A fine gift. 

May 1965 

Rose laid the folded flag and the clutch of peace Lillies at the base of the tree. William had been drafted back into the army only a few months ago, and already his body was being shipped home in a pine box. Rose held their children’s hands as they stood next to the tree where William would be laid to rest next to his father. 

Rose had begged him to burn his draft card or run away to Canada instead of fighting a war that wasn't theirs to fight, but he’d spoken only of pride and duty. And now she was burying the father of her children. Mary, William's mother, came out dressed in a long black dress and handed Rose an envelope. 

“What's this, Mother Mary?” 

“That's Williams' will, and you get everything. This house, farm, and his money.”

“You don’t owe the house?”

Mary shook her head. “No. It always belonged to William.”

“Well, it's still your home. I’ll be staying at the commune with the kids for a while.”

Mary rolled her eyes but tried to be respectful. Commune. “Thank you, Dear. You are welcome here anytime.”

A few days later, William dressed in his military uniform lay in a black coffin the yard next to his tree. Rose stood with their children, eight-year-old Jack and five-year-old Frankie. As they lowered him into the cold, hard earth, the trumpet played Taps, and a fierce breeze shook the tree---a pour of flowers fell upon the coffin. Rose lifted her face to the branches as tears streamed down her face. 

May 1975

Mary hobbled out to the garden next to the cemetery and began to pull the weeds from the bed. She enjoyed the moments she got to spend out here with her family. John and her children were grown and had long since gone to live their own lives. All she had left was this tree, the garden, and the cemetery which now held her second husband Albert, as well as John, William, and Sarah-May. As she tended her garden, she spoke to those she loved. 

“William, Jack called and said he was graduating from High school with honors. He plans to go into medicine. Wouldn’t that be something? A Doctor in the family. John, Anna’s little Marie had her first baby---so we’re great-grandparents now. Bound to happen sooner or later. Oh, William, Frankie played in the high school state basketball game. They won. Isn’t that something?”

Mary felt a flutter in her chest and sat back against the tree trunk. She took deep breaths to calm herself, listening to the early spring bird song and a soft breeze as the tranquil scene faded to darkness. 

Rose always stopped by to check on Mary. You’d think a woman with nine living children and an abundance of grandbabies would have a lot more visitors. Shrugging that thought off, Rose gathered the two paper bags of groceries out of the back seat and carried them into the house. 

“Mother Mary, I’m here! I got you some of those cookies you love. Those little girls are getting slicker and slicker at the cookie business. I bought ten boxes.” Frowning, Rose set the bags on the counter. “Mary?” 

“Huh. Maybe she’s in the garden.” Rose mumbled to herself and opened the screen door. Mary was slumped over with a spade in her hands. “Mother!” Rose dropped the cookies and ran. 

May 1985

Dr. Jonathan “Jack” Mackay stood in front of the house built by his grandfather over sixty years ago and embraced the chance to fix it up. Breathing new life into just as he breathed new life into the aging medical practice he’d bought. 

“So, what's the verdict?” Jack leaned against his new car as the contractor walked over. 

“So, Doc, this is pretty much a tear to studs remodel. I'm not sure it's worth it. Cheaper to tear it down.”

Jack looked over the neglected ranch. “No. I’ll pay whatever it costs to restore. And we’ll add an addition. What about the landscaping?”

The contractor knew a sappy, rich sucker when he saw one. He smiled. “It’s all dead ‘cept for that tree, but I’d yank it too. Add in all-new complimentary landscaping.”

Jack nodded. “Tear out everything but the tree. My dad is buried under that tree.” 

“You got it, Doc.”

As construction began in the house, Jack worked on clearing out the weeds from the cemetery. He was mumbling the lyrics to a popular song as he worked. 

“Did you buy this place?”

Jack shielded his eyes against the sun and looked at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her blonde hair was braided, and she wore high-waisted jeans with a red bodysuit tucked in. “Uh, no. Inherited it. Do you live around here?”

“So you knew Ms. Mary?”

“Yes, she was my grandmother.”

“Huh. She used to make me cookies every Tuesday and helped my mom out with chores. She was a great lady.”

“Yeah. She was.”

She nodded and looked at the house. “It’s good you are showing love here. It’s been quite too long. Welcome to the neighborhood…” She looked at him expectantly. 

“Jack Mackay.”

She held a hand out to him. “Nice to meet you, Jack MacKay. I’m Lorna West.”

He took it, and a breeze knocked the spring blossoms out of the tree. They showered around them in a colorful tornado. Jack watched her walk away and dreamt about her that night. 

May 1995 

“Grace and Hope MacKay! Get your behinds down here! The school bus is almost here.” Lorna MacKay rushed to pack the lunches for her two oldest girls. 

“I have a full day of patients, but when I get home, how about we go out to dinner? Tomorrow I have to go to the hospital.” Jack hugged his wife from behind and enjoyed her fuller figure. She’d given him four beautiful children and had never looked better. 

“A dinner I don’t have to cook or clean? I’m in!” 

Jack drove to the nursing home before he made his way to his office. He’d done this every day for the last three months. Pulling in he steeled himself for what lay beyond the doors. His brother Frankie was sleeping, again, when he walked into his room. Jack checked his vitals, the chart and spoke to the nurse on call. Then he sat next to his brother's bed and held his hand. 

AIDS was a war and Frankie was in his final battle of the dreaded disease. Frankie’s partner Greg came in carrying two cups of coffee. He handed one to Jack per tradition. 

“How’s he doing this morning?”

Greg ran an exhausted hand down his face. “Ah, not good. He was restless so they gave him more morphine. That’s bad right?”

“Yeah. That’s bad.” 

Greg sat hard in the seat and grabbed Frankies other hand. “Jack, I’ve been sitting here for weeks watching the love of my life fade slowly, painfully away. How am I supposed to live when he’s gone? I still can’t seem to figure that out.”

Jack was having the same problem. Frankie had been his best friend, since forever. “When our dad died in ‘Nam we got through it partly because we were young but mostly because we had each other. Greg, you won't be alone once Frankie goes...away. You’re family and have Lorna and I.”

“Thanks for that Jack. And for understanding and accepting Frankie. I know how lucky he is to have family like you.” 

They sat in silence for another hour before Jack left for work. By noon, he knew dinner out with his wife would have to wait. He had a funeral to plan. 

They laid Frankie William MacKay to rest next to his father on a rainy May morning. The drops splashed off the leaves, even the tree was crying. 

May 2005

Hope MacKay stared out of her second story bedroom window and watched her mother direct the cateriors around the backyard before she twirled for the third time in front of the mirror. She was a woman now she thought as she smoothed down her short white dress. She’d graduated with honors from high school, had been accepted to a high profile university and was ready to take on the world. 

As her party got in full swing, her friends filtered in and out. However, most of the people were friends of her parents, not that she minded since they all brought money gifts. Hope was standing under the tree looking at the gifts when an older woman, a young guy and her father walked over to her. 

“Hope, this is my friend Doctor Shaun and her son Declan. Declan goes to Yale as well.”

Hope smiled, as was polite, but tried not to drool as she looked at Declan Shaun. He was dark haired, rangy built and had beautiful bottle green eyes. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

Love blossomed under the shade of the tree.