Page 49 of The Women of Oak Ridge

DAD AND I WERE UP EARLY the next morning, hoping Aunt Mae would be released from the hospital.

I hadn’t been able to sleep last night and ended up going over notes from the interviews I’d conducted thus far, as well as things I’d jotted down at the library.

While I greatly appreciated Georgeanne and the others sharing their personal stories with me, Aunt Mae’s refusal to share hers made me more determined than ever to dig into the secrets and heavy emotions people who worked on the Manhattan Project experienced then and now.

When we arrived at the hospital, the doctor was with Aunt Mae. We greeted them both, then Dad moved to the opposite side of the bed and took her good hand. I noticed she was wearing her new glasses.

“How’s my favorite sister doing today? I trust you’re behaving yourself, Maebelle.”

Aunt Mae didn’t smile at his teasing. “I’ve been a model patient, Harry, but if they don’t let me go home today, I may have to change tactics.”

Dad looked relieved. I knew he’d been worried about Aunt Mae not recognizing him the previous day. Except for the yellowish bruises on her face and small cast on her wrist, it seemed she was back to her usual self.

We looked to the doctor for his response.

“I was just telling Ms. Willett that while she has improved, she is still experiencing symptoms from the concussion.” He glanced down to Aunt Mae.

“You had a very restless night and experienced confusion regarding the nurse’s identity.

But”—he included all of us in his gaze—“she’s better this morning.

We were discussing whether she should spend another night in our care. ”

“And I told him I would sleep better in my own bed.” Aunt Mae’s face bore a scowl. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Just let me leave and get on with life.”

The doctor didn’t seem offended at her gruff words.

“The fuss, Ms. Willett, is that brain injuries take time to heal. It could be up to a month before you feel normal again. Headaches, fatigue, mood swings, memory problems, and even seizures are all part of the healing process. These symptoms aren’t to be taken lightly. ”

“She lives alone.” Concern edged Dad’s voice. “Do you recommend someone stay with her until she’s recovered?”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Harry,” Aunt Mae said, clearly annoyed by the suggestion. “I can take care of myself.”

“I disagree,” the doctor said. “It would be best if you weren’t alone for the first week or two, depending on the level of symptoms you experience.

We don’t want to see you in the emergency room again because you lost your balance and took a tumble.

” He turned to Dad. “I’m willing to release her into your care today, but I strongly caution against resuming her independent lifestyle right away. ”

“I understand.” Dad glanced at me. “Laurel has volunteered to stay with Mae, through the summer, if necessary.”

Aunt Mae’s gaze shifted to me. After a long moment, her expression softened a bit. “That’s very kind of you, Laurel. I’m sure it won’t come to that, though.”

“I’m glad to be of help, Aunt Mae.” We exchanged smiles.

Dad and the doctor left the room to tend to paperwork. With a nurse’s help, we got Aunt Mae dressed in the clean clothes I’d brought with us. By the time Dad returned to the room, Aunt Mae sat in a wheelchair, ready to escape the hospital.

“I hope we’re doing the right thing,” he said as the nurse pushed the chair toward the exit. “Another night in the hospital might not be a bad idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” Aunt Mae kept her eyes fixed on the glass doors ahead. “I want to go home. Have you been taking good care of Peggy?”

I assured her the little dog was fine but missing her, which seemed to please her. The drive didn’t take long. As Dad pulled his rental car into the driveway, Aunt Mae got emotional.

“It’s good to see my little house again,” she said, her voice wobbly.

She was weak, so Dad and I got on either side of her and slowly made our way to the house. Peggy danced and yapped, making us all laugh.

“At least someone is happy I’m home,” Aunt Mae said once she was settled in her chair, with Peggy in her lap.

Dad’s gaze met mine. He rolled his eyes, then took the small suitcase to Aunt Mae’s bedroom.

“It’s a bit early for lunch, but can I get you something to eat?” I knelt in front of her and petted Peggy’s head. “Velvet and Roonie brought tuna casserole and peach cobbler.”

“That was nice of them,” she said. “I had a decent breakfast, although the bacon was soggy. We’ll save the casserole for supper.”

A knock sounded at the front door.

Aunt Mae huffed. “I’ll bet a nickel it’s Georgeanne. She’s probably been glued to her front window, watching for us.”

I hid a smile and opened the door. There stood Aunt Mae’s neighbor, holding a covered dish.

“I saw y’all pull into the driveway.” She pushed the container into my hands, stepped past me, and went directly to Aunt Mae.

“You certainly gave us a scare, Mae. I’m glad you’re home, safe and sound, but dear me, what an ordeal.

I’ve never had a concussion, but my daughter’s youngest boy had one last year.

Fell off his bike. She had to sit with him all night to make sure he didn’t slip into a coma. ”

Aunt Mae’s mouth was a straight line. “I’m fine.”

Georgeanne settled on the sofa, clearly prepared for a lengthy visit.

“You can’t be too careful though. I happened to drive past the police station yesterday and saw your poor car sitting in the lot.

‘It’s a wonder Mae and that other fella weren’t hurt worse,’ I said to myself. Guess you’ll have to get a new car.”

I watched Aunt Mae’s expression harden. She opened her mouth to reply just as Dad entered the room.

“Hi there, Georgeanne,” he said. “I thought I heard your voice. How’s the family?”

Georgeanne greeted Dad and launched into one story after another about her kids and grands. After long minutes of bragging about her grandson’s skills in Little League baseball and her granddaughter’s ballet classes, Dad cleared his throat.

“It was kind of you to come check on Mae, but I think it’s best if she rests now,” he said. “The doctor encouraged her to take things nice and easy.”

Georgeanne took the hint and rose. “Of course. I made a chicken and rice casserole for your supper, although I know Velvet brought over some things, too. Y’all let me know if there’s anything I can do. Take care, Mae.”

The woman chattered as Dad walked her outside. As soon as he returned and closed the door, Aunt Mae heaved a sigh.

“I know Georgeanne means well,” she said, “but I’ve often wished I’d bought a house one block over so I wouldn’t have to live next to her. That woman wears me out.” She motioned me over. “Take Peggy outside, please. I think I’ll lie down for a bit.”

While I took the dog out, Dad helped his sister to her room. Her eyes were already drifting closed by the time I returned. Peggy put her front paws on the side of the mattress and whined.

“Come on, sweet girl,” Aunt Mae murmured. “Let’s take a nap.”

I lifted the little dog onto the bed where she tucked herself up against Aunt Mae’s hip, then I tiptoed from the room and closed the door. Dad waited for me in the living room.

“I think I’ll go down to the police station and see Mae’s car for myself.

Then,” he said, followed by a heavy sigh, “we need to figure out a plan of some sort. I’m grateful you’re willing to stay with her for a while, but that’s a temporary fix.

The doctor believes her eyesight is only going to get worse. She’s going blind, Laurel.”

The news was devastating. “Oh, Dad. Poor Aunt Mae. I wish she would agree to come to Boston.”

“So do I. I’m going to do everything I can to convince her. I may need your help.”

“Of course.”

He left a short time later. I put the clothes Aunt Mae had worn the day of the accident into the washer with some towels Dad and I had used, then set some of the soup I’d made on the stove to simmer.

With the delicious aroma filling the house and birdsong coming through the open windows, everything felt peaceful and calm.

It was good to have Aunt Mae home again.

She slept most of the afternoon. Dad and I ate lunch without her, discussing different options for the future. While he called Mom to give her an update, I went out to sit on the front porch. I’d just settled there when a police cruiser turned into the driveway.

My stomach fluttered as Jonas exited the vehicle, looking handsome in his uniform.

“Hi, there,” he said with a smile as he approached. “I thought I’d come by and see how the patient is doing.”

“She’s happy to be home, but the doctor doesn’t think she should be alone. Now or in the future. She’s going blind, Jonas.”

His face filled with compassion. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you and your family wanted to hear.”

“No, it’s not, especially with everything else that’s going on.

” I heaved a sigh. “I can’t help but feel the stress of keeping secrets about the past played a role in Aunt Mae’s accident.

Who knows. Maybe it has something to do with losing her eyesight too.

Stress can wreak havoc on us, mentally and physically.

I’m convinced that whatever happened to Sissy is at the center of Aunt Mae’s emotional instability, but until she’s willing to talk about it, all we can do is speculate. ”

Jonas nodded. “Unfortunately there aren’t any records from the 1940s that mention Sissy.”

“I wish we knew where she lived after the war. If we could locate her, she might be able to help us understand why Aunt Mae is so afraid. Doesn’t the police department have a database with information on people?”

He nodded. “On criminals and suspects, but I’ve already checked it for a Sylvia Galloway. I also looked for Clive Morrison, but nothing came up on either of them.”