Cartoonist Dave Granlund at davegranlund.com
Politicians hawk their brand, | To the media talking heads
Snake oil purveyors | who clamor for the latest dirt
whose loyalty is sold | because dirt sells advertising
to the highest bidder… | where truth doesn’t matter…
vile bottom feeders | just don’t call yourselves journalists!
kat ~ 30 March 2016
To learn more about the Cleave poem or to give it a try yourself, click HERE to Jane Dougherty’s poetry challenge.
NEW! Find links for all the parts/chapters in one place HERE!
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I was beginning to think “not now” meant “not ever!” June hailed our server for the check, then dashed through the kitchen with a quick “Ta-ta Joe, it was lovely as always.”
I could barely keep up with her. She was waiting in the car when I finally made it outside. The ride home was a tense high speed zip through town, screeching to a halt in the driveway.
“Well dear, I can come again tomorrow morning if you’d like. I have some business to attend to this afternoon. Is that alright?”
“Sure thing, Aunt June. See you tomorrow then.”
And with that she was gone. I had plenty to do inside. I stacked the boxes we’d already packed in the entranceway.
My friend Laura had offered to help when I saw her at the funeral. “If there is anything I can do,” she had said, “don’t hesitate to call.” Being alone in the house after the events of the last 24 hours was more than I could bear. I tapped her number into my phone…
“Hi Laura. It’s Grace…”
“….yes, Im dong okay…”
“…if you don’t have plans tonight, I could use some company. I’ll fix dinner…”
“….wine? That would be lovely…”
“….a nice red would be great…”
“…yep, we do have a lot of catching up to do…”
“…I’ll see you soon then. Just let yourself in. I’ll be upstairs in Mom’s room. Bye.”
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When June got home she dropped her purse and sweater on the floor at the door. Letter in hand she plopped on the sofa.
With trembling fingers she slid the letter from the envelope, sighing deeply as she read…
Dear June,
I know the truth about you and Tom. I’m sure you were hoping that your little secret would stay hidden forever.
I’m assuming if you are reading this, that I’m dead and gone. If Grace doesn’t know yet, she will soon. I put your letter to us in a place where she would find it. Now she’ll know the truth too…or at least part of it.
How could you betray me! My God June, I had just lost a baby!
You were always jealous of me. I watched you flirt with my husband for years. I never imagined the two of you would act on it.
Tom told me just before he died. I suppose he felt he needed to clear his conscience. To think I was so grateful to you for such a selfless gift, my dear sweet Grace, when it was obvious that I could not have a child of my own. Was this your way of making amends? It didn’t work.
Tom begged me to forgive him…and I did. But you will never have that chance. I’m not sorry about that. I don’t know if I could ever forgive you.
Grace will want to know the truth. She won’t likely give up until you give it to her. She has a right to know that her beloved daddy is her true biological father.
Frankly, it’s the bed you made for yourself. Maybe you’ll find redemption and forgiveness by finally doing the right thing.
You are the only family she has now. But the lies have to stop once and for all. You want to make things right? Tell her the truth June!
Annie
June felt sick to her stomach and oddly relieved. Living a lie all these years had been exhausting. Watching Tommy and Annie share the life she would never have and watching Grace grow up thinking of her as only Aunt June had been agonizing.
“I have no intention of talking about any of this to Grace,” she thought, “I’ve kept this secret for 25 years. What’s a few more days?”
But June underestimated Grace. It would not be so easy.
kat ~ 15 March 2016
Read previous installments of The Letter by clicking on the links below:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
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June met me in the driveway. It felt good to take a break. The sun was shining. I closed my eyes for a second to take in its warmth.
I found a second letter in the junk drawer, addressed to June in Mom’s handwriting. It took everything I had not to steam the envelope open to have a look. But I knew I should give it directly to my aunt. Maybe at lunch.
“You drive Aunt June,” I said, opening the passenger side of her fancy caddy, “I’ve never ridden in one of these!”
June smiled and chuckled, “Maybe one day you’ll have one of your own, Grace, if you play your cards right!”
Noon hour traffic flooded the narrow downtown streets, but June knew all the shortcuts and had an “in” with Joe, the diner’s owner. Parking was an easy slip to a special spot in the back. We entered through the kitchen. Joe, the owner and chef, was putting finishing touches on someone’s lunch plate. He greeted June with a warm embrace.
“We go way back, Joe and I,” June gushed.
Joe glanced over her shoulder at me, “And who is this lovely young lady, June? Where’ve you been hiding her?” Humph…if he only knew. Maybe he did know!
“Joe, this is my niece Grace, here in town for Annie’s funeral and to get the house in order.”
“Oh yeah, I heard about Annie. So sorry for both of you. She was a nice lady.”
Joe escorted us to our table. I caught myself staring at him. Could he be the one…my father? It was a good thing I was only in town for three days, I thought, or I’d be obsessing over every man June knew, especially those from “way back.”
During lunch June and I talked about the diner…when Joe had taken over the place, how it was the best lunch spot in town. It was crowded. I was sure she had planned it that way so we wouldn’t have to talk about her letter.
But now there was another letter. I decided this was as good a time as any to give it to her. Maybe it would open the door to our talking about the first one.
“Did you find any hidden treasure in the parlor, Aunt June?
“Oh you know, lovely memories. I packed all the family photos for you. I’m sure you’ll want to keep those. How about you? Find anything good?”
“As a matter of fact,” I said, pulling the letter from my pocket, sliding it across the table toward her, “I found this. It’s from Mom to you.”
June placed her hand over the letter.
“Well aren’t you going to read it? What if it contains Mom’s last wishes? I should know, don’t you think?”
Reluctantly June slid the seal open and unfolded the letter. As she started to read her sister’s words tears welled up and streamed down her cheeks…
Dear June,
I know the truth about you and Tom…
As I watched from across the table, June quickly folded the letter, shoving it back into the envelope.
“I’ll finish it later Grace. Nothing pressing in it. Just a personal note. I miss Annie. Sorry I get so emotional.”
I wasn’t buying it. I only had three days to figure this out.
“We should talk June…”
“I know dear. I’m sorry, I just can’t…not here…not now.”
kat ~ 11 March 2016
“I couldn’t get out of that kitchen fast enough!” June set the box and packing paper on the floor near the fireplace. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead and upper lip. She knew this was not the end of it but she needed to figure out how to deal with the questions that would surely follow. She looked at her sister’s portrait on the mantle.
“What were you thinking Annie?! You had to know Grace would find it. Of all places to store that blasted letter…a recipe box!”
June busied herself packing photographs. Some of the frames would surely bring a high price at auction but it didn’t feel right removing the photos. No, they would remain intact. She sighed when she took his picture from the shelf, holding it to her heart.
“Oh Tommy, Grace was always meant to be our secret. You didn’t tell Annie, did you? That would explain the letter, right there where Grace was sure to find it.” She held the frame so she could see his face. “You didn’t tell her did you Tommy?”
It was one night. A weak moment. Tom was inconsolable when he arrived at June’s door. Annie was in the hospital recovering from her fourth miscarriage. She had begged him for a divorce, he had said, telling him she was a failure as a wife…defective as a woman. Annie told Tom that he needed more that she could give. He needed a wife who could carry to term the children he dreamed of having. She said it was the best thing for them both.
But Tom didn’t feel that way. He loved Annie with all his heart. They could adopt he had told her. He begged her to reconsider, but her mind was settled. She demanded that he leave, screaming that she hated him, causing such a stir that hospital security had to be called. They escorted Tom to the street. From there he went to the only safe place he knew. He went to June’s.
June poured Tom a glass of wine, then one for herself. As she sat across the table from him she gazed at his strong shoulders crumbling under the weight of his grief. How fragile he looked. How lucky her sister was to be loved so deeply by such a sensitive man.
They talked for hours, mostly about Annie, then about his dreams and hopes, his childhood growing up in the country, and as the wine flowed, June spoke of her dream of becoming a designer.
There was a chill in the air. Tom offered to build a fire. June joined him in the parlor with another bottle of wine. The crackling fire and warmth from the wine swirled around them, through them. Their eyes met. It was only one time…one night that changed everything.
And now Grace knew. Well, she knew that her mother was not Annie.
Three months after that night, June could no longer deny that she now carried within her the child her sister so desperately longed for. She lied to Annie, telling her that the father was a one-night stand, not someone she had ever considered seriously. Eventually June knew what she must do. It was the only way to make things right.
June glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was time for lunch. She called to the kitchen, “Grace, are you at a stopping point? I’m famished,” another lie, “what do you say we head out to the diner. I think we could both use a break.”
“Coming Auntie June. Let me get a sweater.” I’m not going to push it at lunch, but one day I want to hear the truth. I need to know why June gave me to my parents to raise. She owes me that much.
kat ~ 7 March 2016
This entry is by request. Clearly there is more story to tell. Thank you everyone for encouraging me! 😊
To read previous chapters click on the links below:
and the next part…
like mercury colliding... 