Mother Knows Best by Lindy Ryan

Author:Lindy Ryan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Spot Books
Published: 2024-04-04T06:30:07+00:00

WITHIN THE PINK

PAISLEY WALLS

by Kelsea Yu

The magnolias were in full bloom the day Miralyn Liang found the envelope addressed to her, penned in her dead mother’s hand. Tucking it in her dress pocket, she climbed back down the ladder, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold concrete of the garage floor. If Laura had been there, she’d have insisted that Miralyn wear socks or slippers. But Laura was upstairs resting again; she did that a lot now that the baby was almost here.

Though Miralyn had been looking for a book from her mother’s boxed-up library, the envelope was a far better find. She tiptoed out of the open garage and padded across the front yard toward her favorite tree. Fuchsia petals fell as she climbed up to her usual spot and nestled in. It wasn’t far off the ground, but she liked it here; the branch was curved like a chair, and she felt safe, surrounded by the blossoms her mother had loved.

Miralyn inhaled deeply, filling her nostrils with the scent of sweet, pleasant magnolia. Then she opened the eggshell envelope and slipped the contents out.

She had hoped for a heartfelt letter written the day she’d been born or, perhaps, a note of advice to guide her through the ages. Something to show that her mother was thoughtful and wise and possibly gifted with the foresight to prepare Miralyn for a motherless future.

What Miralyn held, instead, was a faded Polaroid.

She pored over the image, drinking in every detail. Her mother sat on a mint green tufted armchair, hands folded primly in her lap. Her head was tilted to one side, thin lips curved up in a closed-mouth smile, and she stared straight at the camera with eyes that shone bright. Behind her, the walls were covered in pink wallpaper, covered in a white paisley design.

Below the image, a handwritten address: 13 Cedar Boulevard.

Thirteen. Same as Miralyn’s age. Laura said it was an unlucky number, though Miralyn’s father didn’t believe in such superstitions. Miralyn wondered what her mother would have thought.

The guilt arrived immediately, pitting in her stomach. It felt wrong to compare her mother with Laura, no matter how innocent the point of comparison. It felt too much like comparing old versus new, original versus replacement. Her mother was her mother, and Laura was Laura. There was no crossover.

Miralyn slipped the Polaroid into her pocket and went inside to look up the address on the family’s shared computer.

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