Mary's Innocent Passion

Rebecca looked up at her mother, who smiled and nodded her permission. "Yes, please."

She guided the two of them into the living room, where she slipped a Pixar movie she had rented the previous evening into the DVD player. "Now, if you girls need anything, come and see me, okay? Me and your momma are going to be taking care of some business in the other room.

"Now," she continued, speaking to Mary. "Let's see what we have in that folder, there." She nodded at the manilla folder peeking out of Mary's shoulder bag. "Are those your financials?"

Mary nodded. "Everything that I have. I hope it's enough."

"All right. Let's take a look."

*****

While Evey looked over Mary's financial documents, Mary pulled her algebra textbook out of her shoulder bag and tried once again to get some studying done. Growing up in the compound had given her a rudimentary skill with numbers, and she had moved quickly through the easier levels of mathematics as she tried to pick up enough high school credits to get her equivalency certificate. But algebra remained a frustrating enigma, and she muttered crossly to herself, chewing absentmindedly on a strand of her hair, unaware of Evey's smiling eyes on her.

She checked her answers against the list in the back of the book, unsurprised to find that, again, they were completely wrong. "Gosh...gosh darn it," she swore blackly, throwing her pencil on the table.

"Having some trouble?" Evey asked sympathetically.

"It just doesn't make any sense! How can a number be variable? How can it change? Numbers...are numbers. They don't change. I can't make four turn into five, no matter how hard I wish. So why do I have to deal with this...this silliness?"

Evey walked around the table to sit down beside her, glancing at the textbook. "Ah. Algebra. Trust me, it's tripped up smarter people than you, Mary." She looked at the set of problems that were causing her so much frustration. "You know, it's not that hard. You just have to put into the right context." Her brow furrowed for a moment. "Think of it the way you think of something like grocery shopping."

"What?"

"Well, when you go to the store to buy food for you and the girls," she said, cocking her head towards the family room, where laughter and the faint sounds of the TV could be heard, "you don't know how much the food is going to cost, do you?"

"Well, no," Mary said. "Not exactly. Although I've usually got a pretty good idea."

"Good. So think of the cost of the food as a variable. Now. Let's look at this first problem:

"4X-8=16

"The first thing to do is make everything nice and neat. We want the variable to be all by itself on one part of the equation. And everything else on the other. So let's add 8 to each side. You have to do it to each side," she said, mock-seriously. "It keeps things fair.

"4X-8+8=16+8"

"All you did was make it more complicated," Mary groaned. Her head felt like it was going to start to hurt any minute.

"Just for a second." Evey smiled smugly at her, and Mary was torn between a desire to hit her and hug her. "If I have eight of something, and you take away all eight, how many do I have left?"

"Zero?" she hazarded.

"Right." Using her pencil, Evey crossed off the eights on the left side of the equation. "So now we've got 4X=16+8. I don't like that sixteen plus eight there. It's untidy. Let's add those together. What's sixteen plus eight?"

"Twenty-four."

"Right. So now...

"4X=24

"Much better. So now, let's think about your trip to the grocery store. If you have twenty-four dollars, and each thing you want costs four dollars, how many can you buy?"

"Six," Mary said automatically. Her mouth fell open as Evey did the last piece of math and wrote the answer: X=6. "That...that was easy." She took up a piece of paper and snatched the pencil out of Evey's hand. Using the same process, she was rapidly able to complete two more problems. "How did you do that?" She looked down at the paper disbelievingly. "How did I know that?"

"Everyone in your situation already knows basic algebra, Mary, just from living in a world where they have to budget their expenses. It's just a matter of applying real-world skills in a different way." She nodded at the textbook. "So you're going for your high school equivalency certificate? Good. You won't believe how much that will help you in the future. When did you have to drop out?" She flushed, as if suddenly aware of how rude the question sounded.

Mary chose to ignore it. "Have you been able to find out anything?" she said, waving at her thin pile of W-2s, pay stubs, and tax forms.

Evey nodded grimly. "Yes. Girl," she said severely, "you've been leaving so much money on the table it's practically criminal.

"First off, you're eligible for SNAP cards."

"What?"

Evey sighed. "They're also known as food stamps. But we don't like to call them that anymore. There's a sort of stigma attached to them."

Mary recoiled. "I don't want to be on food stamps. We can get by without them."

"No," Evey said flatly. "You can't." She waved a hand at the documents. "I can tell from this how much you make. And I can take a pretty good guess at how much you have to pay in food, and rent, and diapers, and all the rest. Remember, this is what I do for a living, so it's no use putting up a brave front and trying to fool me. How much do you have in case of an emergency, Mary? If that beater of yours outside gives up the ghost, how will you get to work?

"It's not a crime to accept help when you need it, Mary," she continued, her voice gentling. "You pay taxes, right?" At Mary's jerky nod, she went on. "This is what the taxes you pay go to. Schools and roads and clean water and clean air and fire trucks and the military and all the rest. Including help to those who need it. Such as unemployment insurance and children's health insurance and social security and Medicaid. And when you get back on your feet and have a good job, the taxes you pay will help another young woman who's having the same problems you are right now.

"Accept the help."

Mary nodded, though her lips thinned unhappily. "All right. But no longer than we have to."

"Agreed. And here's another thing." She waved a sheet of paper. "Did you seriously file a 1040EZ for your federal taxes the last two years?"

Mary squinted at the sheet of paper, covered with her handwriting. "Yes?"

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Evey moaned. She shook her head, apparently caught between an urge to laugh and to bang her skull against the table. "Do you have any idea how much money you threw away? You could have itemized your deductions, Mary. And you're eligible for tax credits for the girls. Did you ever think about that?"

"No!" Mary snapped angrily, goaded past endurance by Eveline's pitying tone. "I didn't think about that. Because I didn't know! Maybe where you grew up you knew all about taxes and how to file them. I grew up-" she caught herself, just in time. "I didn't know. I still don't know. What's a tax credit? What do the girls have to do with it?"

"Good lord," Evey swore softly, her eyes wide. "You really don't know, do you?" She shook her head. "And I bet you didn't go to a tax preparer the last couple of years because you were stubborn and bullheaded and thought you could do it on your own and didn't want to pay the fee, right?" She smiled crookedly at Mary's shamefaced nod. "All right, then. The government," she explained, "gives you a tax credit for your children as kind of a rebate for having to take care of them. For all the costs associated with raising kids. Food and clothes and diapers and daycare and all the rest. You can deduct those costs from the amount you owe. And if you don't owe much, you get cash back from the feds.

"You," she said sternly, "didn't claim thousands of dollars that you could have gotten back from President Obama and the rest of the federal government."

"Thousands?" Mary whispered. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, thinking what she could have done with that money. The car. A decent apartment. "Oh, God, I'm such an idiot!"

"No," Evey said sternly. "You're not. And I don't want to hear that sort of nonsense ever coming out of your mouth again. Ignorance is not stupidity. Just because you don't know something doesn't mean you can't learn.

"You were ignorant about one piece of algebra a few minutes ago. Now you're not. You were ignorant about deductions for the girls. Now you're not. And when you have to file your taxes again next year, I bet you won't make the same mistake again, will you?"

"But what about all that money I left behind?" Her voice was almost a wail.

"Well, honey," Evey drawled, "for all that I complain about the feds sometimes, they do allow you to correct a mistake if you find out you've made one. We've got a couple of accountants who donate their time where I work. If you can swing by my office sometime next week, we'll file an amended tax return for last year and the year before. With electronic filing, you'll have the money in your bank account in a couple of weeks."

"How much?" she asked eagerly, then winced at how greedy her voice sounded.

"Impossible to say for certain, right now. I'm no CPA. But it'll be a decent chunk of change."

"Thank you," Mary said, covering Evey's hand with her own. "I owe you so much. You've been such a huge help to me. When I think how I felt when you walked up to me the other night in the rain..." She laughed, a trifle unsteadily. "Maybe there really is a God, and you're an angel sent to help me."

Evey laughed, but Mary thought it sounded shaky. "Believe me, I'm no angel."

Their eyes locked. Mary was suddenly very aware of the feel of Evey's hand under hers, the skin feverishly warm in the cool room. Her eyes were wide, and she could see her pulse beating under the fragile skin of her throat. What would her skin taste like? The thought ran through her head before she could stop it. Almost of her own accord, her head leaned forward, and she could see Evey's doing the same, her lips parting eagerly, ready for their first kiss. The first of thousands. She-

"Mommy? I have to go potty. And Debbie is stinky."

She closed her eyes, choking back a scream of frustration, and turned to her oldest child. Beside her, Eveline rose to her feet.

"I'll show you where the bathroom is, Rebecca. I should have told you when you came in. We girls need to know things like that." The look she turned to Mary was wickedly mischievous, as if she knew her innermost desires. And instead of being repulsed by them, couldn't wait to indulge them.

*****

Eveline returned from showing Rebecca the bathroom to find Mary changing a diaper on top of her dining room table.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "But I couldn't find a good place to do it. I didn't want to do it on the floor, or on the carpet."

"Don't worry about it," she soothed her. "Poop wipes off. And the people I have come in here to clean never have enough to do anyway." She looked over Mary's shoulder at her youngest child, whose feet kicked in the air as her mother quickly and professionally cleaned her bottom and pinned a new diaper into place.

"Cloth diapers?" she asked.

"You can wash them over and over and don't have to replace them," Mary said shortly. "If I had to buy disposable diapers I wouldn't be able to afford food."

"I understand," she said, changing the subject. "Well, now that we're done in here, how about we watch another movie? And maybe we can order some supper?" she suggested, as her stomach gurgled hungrily. "I'm paying," she added, as Mary's mouth opened in a hesitant demurral.

She pulled a menu out from a stack on her kitchen counter and picked up her phone. She quickly ordered a couple of pizzas from a nearby restaurant, coming back into the living room in time to see Rebecca slide another movie into the DVD player.

She smiled as the opening credits to 'Finding Nemo,' came up on the screen. She settled onto the couch, Mary beside her. The two girls sat on the carpet, close to the TV.

"Have you seen this?" she asked, relaxing into the comfortable leather. She put her feet up on the coffee table, wiggling her toes contentedly.

Her companion shook her head. "No, but I've heard about it."

They watched the movie silently, broken only by laughter at the antics of Nemo, Marlin and Dory. Mary seemed particularly taken with Dory, breaking into girlish giggles whenever she said something silly.

Thirty minutes into the film, the doorbell rang, and Evey paid the delivery man.

"Mmmm, Mama Juliana's pizza," she murmured happily, opening the cardboard box and inhaling the aroma of pepperoni and sausage. While the movie was paused, she plundered the kitchen for plates and cups. Waving off Mary's feeble attempt to share the cost, she passed out slices of pizza and poured glasses of cold milk for all of them, and sat back down.

As the movie went on, she stole occasional glances at Mary's face, wondering what her story was. The young woman was an enigma. Obviously she was running away from something. But what? Poor choices as a younger, more foolish woman? Abuse of some sort? Something else?

Her brows creased in a pensive frown. There was something about her that she couldn't quite put her finger on. The way Mary seemed almost frightened of modern technology, and was painfully unaware of things that most people took for granted, spoke to a deeply sheltered childhood. She suspected that childhood could not have been a happy one. If it had been, Mary would have had a support network to aid her. Instead, she was forging through life practically single-handed.

Her heart melted as she looked at her again, her face open in childlike delight as she watched the cartoon. But her innocent exterior only masked the strength and passion beneath. She might look sweet and innocent, but she had a core of steel. Evey had caught a glimpse of it, just a short time ago.

She closed her eyes as she relived that moment, when Mary had leaned close to her, so near she could scent her breath. Her kiss would have been so welcome. She yearned to take her in her arms, to feel her warm, lissome body against hers. To have her so close was a sweet, gentle torment. If not for Mary's obviously scarred past, she would have slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, so that they could cuddle together on the couch.

Time. Give it time.

The movie drew to a close. She was surprised to see tears on Mary's cheeks as the closing credits played. "Are you all right?"

Mary sniffled. "It was so sweet. The way the daddy fish said goodbye to his son. I wish-" she cut herself off, glancing at her watch. "Goodness, it's late," she said, blatantly changing the subject. "We should go."

Eveline did not try to dissuade her. She followed Mary through the house, helping her pick up her things and get the girls ready to leave. "You'll come by my office next week like you promised, right?"

The blond woman nodded as she bundled Debbie into her coat. "After what you told me about my taxes, wild horses couldn't keep me away. I'll try to call ahead so I won't take up too much of your time."

Evey smiled, and on a sudden impulse, leaned forward so she could kiss Mary's cheek. "Any time with you is time well spent," she said quietly. She knew her eyes and face were saying more than her voice was, but she didn't care. She knelt down to give each of the girls a goodbye hug. "I'll see you two again soon, okay?"

Rebecca hugged her back. Deborah gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek, and giggled.

*****

Over the next two weeks, Eveline found herself falling in love with Mary Durham. And she was so happy she didn't even care.

The appointment at her office took place on Tuesday, and she took quiet joy in Mary's flabbergasted surprise at just how much money she would be receiving with her amended tax returns. With Evey's advice, she began making tentative plans on getting a different car, and perhaps moving out of her dump of an apartment when her lease was up at the end of the winter.

From there, it was an easy step to invite her out for coffee the next day. The two of them met during Mary's lunch break, and she invited her back to the diner where she worked to introduce her to her coworkers and her boss, who were cheerfully friendly and obviously doted on the gorgeous young woman and her children.

Barely realizing it, they found themselves spending more and more time together. On the weekends, during the chilly November afternoons, they took long walks, pushing Rebecca and Debbie together in their strollers. Or they simply visited, talking together about books or the girls or other matters. Mary, Evey did not fail to notice, was almost completely silent about her childhood. The only hints she let fall seemed to indicate she had lived the first several years of her life in the west, in the mountains, as she commented several times about the lack of snow and the relatively mild Iowa weather.

"So what are you and the girls going to do for Thanksgiving?" she asked one lazy evening. It was Sunday night, and they were at her condo, where she was attempting to teach Mary some of the fundamentals of football by watching ESPN.

Mary shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't have any plans. The diner will be closed, so I won't have to work. The girls and I will probably stay home. What about you?"

"Well, the past two years I've spent the holiday with some friends of mine here in town. Crazy family named Chamberlain. Maybe you know the type, all into environmental causes and stuff like that. They even claim to worship some sort of nature goddess. But they've had a lot of changes the last few years. A couple of marriages and some babies and I feel like I'm starting to become a bit of a fifth wheel.

"So I figured I'd start my own tradition. Why don't you and the girls come over on Thanksgiving? I'll deep-fry a turkey and make some other fixings and we can have ourselves a good old feed right here."

Mary blinked. "You're going to deep-fry a turkey?"

"Sure. Haven't you ever had deep-fried turkey before? It's fantastic. If you do it right, it's juicy on the inside but the outside is like fried chicken. Mmmmm."

Mary took a deep breath, and Evey could see her getting ready to refuse. "Come on, Mary. Don't make me spend the holiday alone," she said, shamelessly playing on her sympathy. "I need my friends around me during the holidays."

"Your friends," Mary repeated, and Evey was shocked to see tears glimmering on her eyelashes. "I'm your friend?"

"You are." Inside, her heart was breaking. What had happened to this girl, that having a friend was so important to her? Had she never been close to anyone in her life? "And I am yours, I hope."

"You are," Mary repeated her words. Eveline reached for her hand, and their fingers laced together. "My best friend in the world." Suddenly she smiled like a mountain sunrise.

"All right. We'll come over for Thanksgiving. Because I'm fairly sure you're making it up about the turkey."

*****

After Mary and the girls left, Eveline puttered around the condo, putting things in order for the week to come. As she put away plates and folded clothes, her mind dwelt on the mystery that was Mary Durham and her daughters.

Where did she come from? What was she running from? All the evidence pointed towards a young woman who had been shockingly abused. That she could be so strong at her age, dealing with the stress of raising two children single-handed, was incredible.

She sat back down on the couch, half-watching the football game. For some reason, the condo felt empty, and she gave a rueful smile. Ever since she had moved to Des Moines, she had lived alone, and had been happy to do so. Her scattered, short-term relationships had rarely evolved to the point where she had considered asking her lovers to move in with her. The only time she had done so, with Heather, had been a rapidly-regretted mistake. Now she was lonely when she was separated from a woman she had barely held hands with!