Authors: Kathy Reinhart
Pulling over-cooked bagels from the toaster, he said, “I told you I was no good at this.”
“I usually skip breakfast anyway.”
He offered a short nod and returned to his task.
“How did you sleep?”
He shrugged, “Okay, I guess,” and looked away, scratching the back of his head.
Bending in his direction, I tried to make eye contact with him as he turned and poured coffee. For whatever reason, he was avoiding looking at me, but that didn’t keep me from catching the concern in his eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Seemingly nervous, he said, “You fell asleep last night.”
“So did you,” I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
He stood silently for a couple minutes, staring at the counter. “How much of the journal did you read?”
His question caused my heart to flutter, wondering how bad the remainder of the journal was.
“Only to the part where your grandmother confesses to killing your father. Why?”
His attention was on me for the first time since I awoke. He pulled a chair next to mine, took my hands in his and studied my face.
“I’m off today and I was going to take you to Wisteria Falls...”
Cutting him off, I said excitedly, “Oh, I would love that...”
“No,” he said, raising a hand between us. “I think you should clear your schedule and...”
He stood and let his words trail off, scaring me more every second he didn’t speak.
Worry filled my voice. “Con, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Facing me briefly, he continued to pace, as he said, “You fell asleep and I didn’t know how far you read, so I read the whole thing.”
I stood and met him at the sink. Holding him by both arms to keep him from turning away, I insisted, “Con, what has you acting this way? What’s in her journal?”
Letting his arms rest on my shoulders, he replied, “It’s not a journal, Meg. It’s a love story.”
Backing away slightly, I opened my mouth but no sounds came out.
Lifting my head with a finger under my chin, he looked deeply into my eyes, and said, “I couldn’t possibly paint the same picture my grandmother painted and it would be an injustice for you to learn the truth any other way.”
Tears blurred my eyes and my throat tightened. “What is the truth?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to leave now. Read the journal and then go see your grandfather.” Kissing my hand, he added, “You told me once that you haven’t always been the best granddaughter. Here’s your chance to make things right with him before it’s too late.”
Through my tears, my eyes questioned his but he offered nothing more, as he kissed my forehead stating that he’d call me later. Before I could organize my thoughts or form them into words, he was gone, leaving me with a million questions and one journal.
Twenty-Nine
...With a kiss and a hug, I was on my way back to the city feeling lighter in spirit. I thought about everything I had learned and the meaning of a lily white lie became clear...
I had wasted valuable time trying to guess what secrets lay between the covers of the journal instead of reading it. I suppose it was my subconscious effort to protect myself from a horrible truth, should that be what I learned. I had picked up the phone several times and hung it up without dialing just as many times. As much as I could use the support that the girls would be sure to bring to the situation, I knew I had to do this alone. I had to dig deep and find my own vein of strength in order to handle whatever I was about to face.
I bent and pulled the phone plug from the wall. Once I began to read I knew I had to read straight through. Depending how bad the truth was, I knew I would use any interruption to hide from it.
Sitting on the couch, I spent several minutes staring at the journal without touching it. Somehow, looking at the tapestry cover flooded my mind with visions of the past. I imagined Gayle, young and beautiful like she was in the picture Joker showed me and the way Gramp described her. She was sitting alone in a room, oblivious to her surroundings, a pen and this journal her only friends. It saddened me to know just how lonely she felt.
Feeling as ready as I ever would to hear the truth, as ugly as it may be, I picked up the journal and opened it to the place I had left off.
I had gone through several entries; some making more sense than others and most of them declaring her undying love for her husband, when I came across one dated
April 4
th
, 1981
, that took up several inked pages.
Jack would be so upset with me should he find out I have been eavesdropping at his door. I swear to you, I wasn’t interfering in his business but I need to know things that he won’t discuss with me anymore. I know I’ve been a burden, although he would never admit that.
Heavenly Father, I have never questioned your work, until now. I obeyed your wishes and sent Wesley to be with you so you could guide him to righteousness. I have been willing to accept my earthly punishment for what I have done. I have been inflicted with a disease that steals all too many of my days and I have not complained or laid blame. So why do you continue to test my faith?
Why in heaven’s name would you call on Stewart to take the blame for Wesley’s death? If you think you are sparing me, you are not. Stewart is a good man, why would you ask this of him?
She had pulled me into her story and her life, so I turned the page and continued without hesitation.
April 6
th
, 1981
Jack has hired a woman to live here and take care of me, as my good days are a rare occurrence anymore. I thank you for this one, especially since it is the last day I will have the privacy to write.
Jack brought Stewart to see me today. What a wonderful surprise it was, but the reason for his visit was not a happy one. It seems that Stewart and my adoring husband have worked out a way to keep me from going to prison for Wesley’s death. I am not happy with their decision. It appears that they are in mutual agreement and have sworn each other to a lifetime of secrecy. Why would Stewart be willing to pay for a crime he did not commit? He said he is doing this for Karen and Cybil and that makes me realize that when I had the opportunity all those years ago, I did not see him for the man he was. I will come to meet you still loving Jack, but Stewart will always have a special place in my heart.
I tell you this because I know that my husband and Stewart are proud men. Neither will ever break their bond of secrecy, my written word being the only testimony that a true and honorable version exists. I can only pray that once I am gone, someone finds this and sets Stewart free. I admire the love he has for his family and I’ll always love him for his loyalty and virtues. I don’t claim to understand everything that has happened, but the one thing I cannot deny is the love between Jack and me, Stewart and his family and the special relationship between Stewart and Jack. We have all been blessed with a lifetime of love. I could not have asked for more.
Please bring me home when I run out of good days.
Con was right; I had to see my grandfather. All I could hope was that he wasn’t furious that the secret he and Joker guarded so carefully all these years was no longer a secret. Telling me why he did it was more than I hoped for.
Considering my last visit, again, I thought it best not to give any advance notice of my arrival and left as soon as I gathered my things.
I ran through what I would say to him, the questions I would ask and what I would do if he turned his back on me a hundred times on the drive there, but I knew that once I arrived, nothing would come out the way I rehearsed it.
I also found myself wondering if Gramp might already be expecting me. There was obviously more than hatred between him and Joker so it wasn’t out of the realm of reality to think that Joker might have warned him already.
I didn’t hesitate in the car or stall at the front door this time. Leaving him no time to sneak out the back door, I knocked once, opened the door and made my way straight to the kitchen.
“Sweet salvation, child, you scared the snickers out of me.” Gram clutched her chest as I startled her from her crossword puzzle.
“I’m sorry...” Glancing around the kitchen, I asked, “Is Gramp here?”
Pushing her crossword puzzle aside, she took her glasses off, shuffling them between her hands.
I recognized her stall tactics.
“Gram, I’m not leaving until I see him.”
“Sit down, child.”
Obeying her request, I sat quietly, waiting for her to speak.
She briefly glanced at her empty glass. Expecting her to refill it, she surprised me by dismissing it and turning her attention to me.
“The day you brought that Ellis boy here I told your grandfather that he was going to have to look the past in the eyes one more time.”
“I’m sorry; I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
“Neither did he.”
“I know.”
Confusion filled her eyes. She looked at me intently for several minutes, and asked, “What do you know?”
“Everything... almost.” I tugged on my lower lip with my teeth.
Probing, questioning, her eyes held mine for several seconds before surrender etched itself into the years of lines creasing her face.
With her head lowered slightly, she continued to play nervously with her glasses while her eyes darted around the room.
“You should have left it alone, child. You should have left it alone.”
Bringing my fist down on the table, I cried, “No, Gram. No more lies.”
The thud of my hand brought her to an erect position, as she looked to me with wide eyes.
“Gram, I’m sorry.” Softening my tone, I said, “I need to know the truth, can’t you see? I can’t move forward until I know what’s behind me.”
I whirled around when I heard Gramp say, “Cybil, would you leave us alone?”
In a perfunctory fashion, Gram headed toward the living room, only slowing long enough to squeeze Gramp’s arm. He waited until he heard the bedroom door close behind her before he turned his attention toward me.
“If we’re going to do this, Sugar, we’re going to begin at the beginning so get yourself comfortable and plan on staying awhile.”
I watched as he poured us each a glass of iced tea, setting them on the table. Taking a seat across from me, he swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head.
“I should have told you. I know that now.”
My eyes were stinging from tears that would undoubtedly fall once he began to tell me what he’d kept from me all these years.
“I felt so many emotions I can’t even put into words. I found myself angry with you, afraid of you... why didn’t you tell me the truth instead of letting me think such horrible things about you for so long? Why was it so important to keep it hidden?”
He took in one long, relaxing breath before his expression became serious. Interlocking his fingers, he rested his arms on the table, cleared his throat and gave me his undivided attention.
“It was done with the best of intentions.”
I mumbled, “Lily white lies...”
He offered a half-laugh. “Your grandmother’s been rambling, I see.”
Knowing that Gram would be upset when she found out, I gave second thought to what I was about to say, but decided that if I was expecting the truth from him, he deserved the same from me.
“Gramp, I know about my mother.”
Expecting him to be upset, he took me by surprise when he calmly stated, “I know.”
“Another thing...” I hesitated, hoping for another calm reaction when I told him the next truth I had to get out. “I went to see Joker, too.”
My face wrinkled in confusion when again, he replied, “I know.”
I was mystified and sat silently, running everything through my head and trying to make sense of it.
“Your grandmother and I have no secrets, Sugar. She told me that she told you about Karen. As for Joker, I talked to him last night.”
“Then you’re friends?”
“No... Not exactly. Last night we exchanged the first words we’ve spoken to each other in almost thirty years. He told me you’d been there and that he sent you back here. Not much else.”
I buried my head in my hands.
“Joker and I were friends back when we didn’t know an Embry from an Ellis. One day I was told that I wasn’t allowed to play with him anymore. My daddy said Joker came from bad people.” He rose and began to pace. “I didn’t know nothing from nothing back then, so I stopped playing with him.” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “Once we got a little older it became more of a rival thing, always competing with each other over everything from who scored the most points to who had the best gal, but under the surface, the bond we formed as young boys was always there.” Using his hands to illustrate, he motioned, “I had nothing personal against him or him against me. We had my family over here and his family over there and neither of them could bring themselves to spit on the best part of the other.”