Bluebells in Jars

The hundred-times-washed linen sheets felt rough against Cassy’s skin, so she kept them tangled at her feet. She could hear her mother’s voice humming in her grandmother’s bedroom down the hall. But the cicadas under her window were so noisy, she couldn’t hear what their late-night discussion was about, although she could guess.

No marriage. No children. And Cassy was going to be twenty-nine soon.

She glared at the grey ceiling, tracing every dent and yellow watermark like constellations in the night sky, but the muffled voices kept her on edge.

Cassy got up and purposefully walked over the creakiest floorboards in the hallway. She peered into the bedroom and saw her mother, Reneé, braiding her grandmother’s hair by the candlelight.

“Why are you still up, child?” her grandma gazed at her over the rim of her glasses before going back to folding her handkerchiefs.

Cassy pushed her hair behind her ears and sat down on the sofa by the open window, bunching her nightdress in her lap. “I can’t sleep,” she whispered and lay her head on the windowsill next to the bluebells in a jar. “It’s too hot.”

“Go and try to get some sleep anyway. You have to be early at the post office.” Reneé retorted without sparing Cassy a glance.

Cassy rubbed her finger on a dark spot on the windowpane. “I think Mama will give birth tonight. She was nesting a few hours ago.”

“She can give birth by herself just fine,” Reneé groused and finished tying her grandmother’s hair.

Cassy silently got up and padded downstairs barefoot to check on the pregnant foster dog. She built for her a makeshift whelping box out of cardboard in the room underneath the staircase.

Once she creaked the door open, she could hear Mama’s fervent licking. There was a little blob wiggling between her hind legs.

“Oh, Mama. You had your first baby already?” Cassy knelt by the edge of the whelping box and stroked the German Shepherd’s head. The newborn puppy snuffled as it crawled toward Mama’s nipples.

Cassy soon heard the wooden staircase groaning under her mother’s footsteps. Reneé turned on the light in the hallway, and a yellow rectangle illuminated Mama’s enclosure. The white and blue towels were blotched with crimson.

“Has she given birth yet?” Reneé appeared in the doorway.

“There’s one so far,” Cassy turned to her mother with a bright smile.

Reneé sat down on the other side of the whelping box, pressing her back against the peeling wallpaper. “Why did you have to drag in a pregnant dog of all things. Do you have any idea how much work puppies are?”

“They were going to kill her,” Cassy countered and stared with fascination at Mama, who started to eat the placenta.

The second puppy slipped out of Mama in a dark red sac, and Mama ripped it open, chewing the stringy pouch.

“Do you think she had puppies before? I read that some first-time mothers need help ripping the sac open, but she seems to know exactly what to do,” Cassy asked.

“She’s just following her instincts. Like all mothers do.” Reneé’s voice sounded weary. Cassy looked at her mother, her wax-like skin glistened in the yellow stripe of light, and her bleary eyes reminded her of the little glass balls she used to throw in dirt as a child.

“I invited the Palmers to a dinner on Friday. They will bring their son, he’s about your age.”

The second puppy latched onto Mama’s nipple with fervor. “When were you the happiest?” she asked.

“What kind of question is that?”

“I’m just curious. About the happiest time of your life.”

Reneé sighed and propped her arms on her bent knees. “Probably when I was a child. When we first moved into this house. My father made most of the furniture, and my mother would spend hours every day decorating. She even painted the frames of my window pink and gave me this frilly white duvet for my bed. I was just so happy to finally have my own room, but she put in so much effort to make it nice. All the girls in school were jealous and wanted to come over all the time to play.” Reneé chuckled, eyes glazed with memories.

Cassy smiled. “What about when you got married? Weren’t you happy then?”

Reneé turned her head to Cassy, the smile slowly falling off her face. “Maybe at the beginning.”

“What about when I was born?”

Reneé sighed heavily. “I was happy.”

“But?”

“It was complicated. I had post-partum depression and three rambunctious boys. And your father was no help.”

“So you were miserable.”

Reneé pulled her lips back in a bitter smile. “You weren’t the one who made me miserable. And I never regretted having you.”

“Still, I don’t remember you ever being happy. I wonder why you want me to get married so badly.”

“It’s just something you do.”

“That’s not good enough,” Cassy whispered.

The last puppy was born at dawn. As with all the rest, Mama ripped open the amniotic sac, but this time, the tiny pup wasn’t moving. Cassy straightened her back and waited with bated breath as Mama licked the motionless puppy.

Cassy picked up the puppy and lowered its head to drain any fluid out of its mouth. “Call the vet,” Cassy said in a panicked tone, before she placed her mouth over the puppy’s nose and gently gave him three breaths.

“It’s dead. That happens sometimes.” Reneé said in an emotionless tone and didn’t move from her spot.

Cassy felt the puppy’s chest, but there was no sign of a heartbeat. She placed her forefinger right behind his front legs and pressed down multiple times. Alternating between chest compressions and giving breaths, Cassy continued reviving the puppy.

“It’s useless,” was what her mother said, but then the puppy’s front paw wiggled, and it let out a tender whine.

Cassy rubbed the puppy’s back before placing it down near Mama’s nipple. Mama licked the runt even as it climbed over its siblings to suckle on a nipple.

“Mom,” Cassy said in a firm tone, “I’m going to leave.”

She could hear Reneé snort. “You said that before, and I already told you that no matter where you go, the world and people are all the same. You won’t find anything you can’t have here.”

“How would you know? You never left,” Cassy turned to her mother. “You never tried to live a different life.”

“You’re only going to weaken the bonds you already have. And spending your life alone is a terrible fate, Cassandra.”

Cassy stared at her mother’s face. “I think living your life dependent on someone who doesn’t love you is a much worse fate, Mother. At least, I treasure myself.”

Reneé pushed herself up and rubbed her calloused hand over her eyes. “You should get ready for work. The post office opens in an hour.” Reneé walked toward the door.

“I already gave them my two-week notice. Yesterday was my last day.” Cassy said, still kneeling on the wooden floor.

Her mother stopped for a moment but didn’t say anything. Then, she shuffled out of the room and up the creaky staircase into her bedroom, where pink paint was peeling off the window frame.

The morning sun poured into the house and glistened on Cassy’s tear-streaked cheeks.