Free Three Women by March Hastings

still outlive them all. But in her heart, she recognized the lie.
    If only Ma would say something. Give her some look or a sign that it was not her fault. It wasn't her fault! Even if she had been home, Pa would still be in the hospital. I've got to live my own life, she thought, strangling in the silent gloom and accusation. They can't trap me like an animal. I won't let them!
    Resentfully Paula pulled off her clothes and hung them in the closet. The alarm clock said two-fifteen. Automatically she wound it and pulled out the stem. Phil had to be up at six and here he sat like part of the family, sharing its grief like an actual son-in-law.
    Paula wanted to hate him for being a phony. But the attention he paid her mother was obviously sincerely felt. He had no thought at this moment for swaying Paula. All he wanted, she could see, was to lend any support that he could. His dark face, soft with tenderness, held whatever hope was still possible. Paula couldn't look at him without despising herself.
    She stayed in her bedroom, isolated from the mute depression, yet absorbing it with every fibre of her being.
    If Pa dies, Mike will never forgive me, she thought.
    Her self respect dropped like dirtied rags away from her. She heard her mother sigh a long quivering wave of breath. Paula shivered, realizing that her mother had become like a child who must be fondled and cared for. And it was her responsibility to hold Ma's hand, not Phil's. But somehow she couldn't bring herself to go in and replace him. She wasn't even sure that her mother wanted her to.
    Oh, I won't stand for it, she fought with herself. I’ll move out and mail home my pay check every week!
    The idea mocked her. If she lived away from home there wouldn't be a pay check to send. Rent and food would consume it.
    But suppose she lived with Byrne?
    Sure, being a charity case would be just the thing to enchant Byrne. Unwanted, caught between Byrne and Greta, there she would be.
    And there was nothing she could do. Except marry Phil, of course. Her mind stopped right there. It refused to continue with the thoughts of self-sacrifice. Pride rose vaguely, without words, and she knew instinctively that she would not give up for anything. The family would straighten out by itself. And she would win Byrne because Byrne was her need. There was no sense in chopping herself into little pieces with remorse.
    She heard Mike turn on the faucet and fill a pan with water. "Want some coffee?" he called in to her. He sounded as though he were spitting.
    "Yes," she flung back in the same tone and went into the kitchen.
    Mike was making an effort to be realistic and sensible. She could see the way he glanced furtively at Phil for approval. Phil winked at him as though they shared a secret together.
    Clumsily, Mike set out four cups and spoons, remembering to get the sugar. He made instant coffee and drank his own black.
    Her mother, who-seemed suspended between life and death, finally permitted Paula to lead her to the bedroom She lay down meekly but didn't close her eyes when Paula put out the light.
    Just the same, she was glad to get her mother out of the way. The poor woman would need whatever energy she could muster for the days to come which, Paula knew, would be harder still.
    Phil said, "Don't worry about her. The shock will pass. She’ll be as good as new by breakfast."
    Paula didn't believe him but there was no need to contradict his efforts to comfort her. She felt ill at ease because he didn't seem to notice that she was still the desirable Paula. She could be Mike's twin brother, the way Phil acted. She felt as though she had shed her old skin and had become a different person. Yet she was Paula. All the way through, Paula. The only difference was her new love for Byrne. And it's your aunt, she thought. If you didn't introduce me to her this would never have happened.
    Instantly she wondered how much Phil really knew about his aunt. She was about to ask him a very cautious