The Name Hidden Under Mama’s China

“Most of you knew Lorna longer in some ways than her own children did,” Ardith said, and I heard somebody’s chair creak, and I saw Terry’s head come up from his plate. “You knew her at the egg route, at the church rummage sale, in that kitchen. I want to tell you something about her that her own kids might not know, and I think today, of all days, is the day to tell it.”

I set my ham down. I did not sit.

“Back in March,” Ardith said, “Lorna had us three over on a Sunday same as always, except that Sunday she didn’t cook. She had Jean bring the chicken. And after we ate, she got up from that table and she went into the dining room and she opened that china cabinet, every door of it, and she said, I want you three to help me do something before I’m not here to do it myself.”

Phyllis was crying already, quietly, a napkin pressed under each eye. Jean had gone very still.

“She had a roll of masking tape and a pen,” Ardith said, “and she went through that cabinet piece by piece, every platter, every cup, and some of them she handed to one of us and said, this one’s for your girl, Jean, for when she gets married, and some of them she just taped a little strip of paper to the bottom and put back on the shelf. She told us, I don’t want my children fighting over dishes after I’m gone like it’s the only thing I ever gave them. I’m taking care of it myself, while I’m still here to do it right.”

The hall was so quiet I could hear the coffee urn ticking as it cooled.

“We didn’t tell either of you,” Ardith said, and she looked, for the first time, directly at Terry, and then at me, “because Lorna asked us not to. She wanted it to be a surprise you found on your own, in your own time, not something handed to you with a bow on it while she was standing there watching your face. She said, let them find it the way they’d find anything else I left behind. Let it just be there.”

Terry had set his fork down. His face had gone the color of the paper tablecloths.

“Terry,” Ardith said, not unkindly, “we heard what happened at the house this morning. Phyllis’s daughter in law lives two doors down and called her before the sun was all the way up.”