by Dawn Gardner
“I know.” Ted brought her into his arms. “Just don’t push me away, okay?”
Ellen didn’t answer. She soaked in the warmth of being in his arms.
As Ted drove to the police station, Ellen watched the world go by. In an odd way, the speed of the car felt too fast, like life. Her mother had lived to almost seventy. And in those years, she had loved a great love, had children and created an amazing body of artwork. Ellen knew more about her mother as a woman now that she was dead. Was it because Joni was dead or was it the pace? The pace of the last few days felt like years, and her forty-six years felt like this car ride, too fast. She hadn’t been paying attention to her life; she had just been passively living in a dream. The sentence from the book that Jack had given Joni came into her mind. I was thrown back into the maelstrom of daily existence, a dream from which I do not know when I shall awake. When Ellen first read the sentence, she had to look up the word maelstrom, making sure she had the meaning right from the context. Right now she felt like she was standing in the middle of a violent whirlpool. Ted took the exit for downtown, and Ellen knew she had a decision to make. Was she going to wake up? Or was she going to keep mindlessly dreaming? The slideshow of her mother’s death played in her mind, and Jack’s face as he held the jade butterfly pendant, and finally the beautiful watercolor peonies with the butterfly on the delicate paper.
“You okay?” Ted asked and touched her leg.
Ellen nodded. She wasn’t okay. How could her heart by shattered by death and be feeling something for Ted at the same time.
“Don’t be nervous, I’m sure this is just a routine questioning.”
“I’m okay.” Ellen said, realizing that she hadn’t even given any thought to what they could possibly ask her about. She wasn’t nervous about this interview—she was nervous about dying without having lived a life.
Officer Johnson led Ellen through a hallway and into a small office. It was empty, except for a small table and three chairs. It didn’t look like the police shows on television. The room was missing the low lighting, the upscale chairs and the two-way mirror. Instead, the ceiling had a couple of dingy stained tiles and the florescent lights gave Officer Johnson’s skin a green hue.
“You can sit there. This won’t take long Mrs. Darnell.”
Ellen pulled out the single chair on the far side of the table and sat.
“Officer Malone will be joining us.” There was a knock and then the female officer from the house walked into the room with a small cardboard box and sat in the other seat beside Officer Johnson.
“We really have just a couple of questions for you. Do you believe that your mother was capable of creating an explosive device?
“Officer, like I told you at the house, no. I absolutely don’t believe she could have done it. Even before her Alzheimer’s.”
“Did you purchase these nails?” Officer Malone pulled out a box of nails from the cardboard box.
“No. I didn’t. Maybe my sister did? They might have been bought by my dad, which would be at least two or three years ago.”
Officer Malone jotted notes down on a pad of paper.
“We did find your mother’s fingerprints on a part of the pressure cooker used to create the bomb. Did your mother own a pressure cooker?” Officer Malone asked.
“That’s funny. Because I wanted to get my mother a pressure cooker for Christmas years ago and she said, ‘absolutely not’, I tried to explain to her that they were a lot safer than the ones she knew in the past. So, to answer your question, she didn’t own a pressure cooker.”
“Thanks for that.” Officer Johnson said.
“Do you think she knew there was a bomb in the backpack?” Officer Malone asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve been asking myself this over and over again. And why did she take it outside?”
“Yes, we are still investigating things.” Officer Johnson added. “We have spoken to your mother’s doctor, Doctor Barnes, who has given a statement that your mother was not mentally able to do this. So, she officially is not a suspect at this time. There are some other avenues we are going to explore.”
“I’m sorry, I just want to make sure I understand you clearly. Am I a suspect?”
“No ma’am you are not.” Officer Malone said.
“Do you have a suspect?” Ellen asked.
“Mrs. Darnell, we can’t discuss that at this time. We thank you for your time today. We also wanted to let you know that your mother’s body will be released on Monday. So, if you want to let your funeral home know. I’m happy to be a point of contact.” Officer Johnson gave Ellen another business card.
Officer Malone reached out for Ellen’s hand to shake, “I’m sorry for your loss. And I know this won’t bring your mother back, but she saved lives. This could have been multiple lives lost.”
“How did it go in there?” Ted asked as they walked to the car.
“I guess pretty good. My mother is no longer a suspect, and I’m not a suspect. So, that’s good, right? They did find my mother’s fingerprints on part of the pressure cooker.”
“I was talking to my sister about this and she said it will be hard to get any conclusive DNA from the backpack. The students’ DNA is all over that auditorium, so there would be no way to know for sure when someone handled that backpack.”
“I’m not sure how all that works. Doesn’t your school have cameras?”
“We do. But I would bet because of that HVAC repair the day before, the security cameras were not working for most of that day. I don’t know. I think those investigators have some work ahead of them.”
When they reached the neighborhood, Ellen was feeling drained. “Thanks for the ride today. I appreciate it. I think, I’m going to bed early.”
“Can I bring you diner later?”
“Ted, I really think I’d like to be alone this evening.”
“Okay. You know if you need anything, I’m here.”
“Yes, and I’m thankful for that, it means a lot to me.” Ellen touched Ted’s arm. She could feel him wanting to hold her. She was tired, sleep was needed. Ellen closed the car door. She waved as she crossed in front of the car, she moved quickly because she knew if Ted got out of the car, it would be too hard for her to send him away.
Ellen made some hot chamomile tea, grabbed the canvas bag and plopped into her mother’s bed. She pulled out the letters her mother had written to Jack and began reading them. Each letter told about what her mother had done that day, what she was working on and how much she missed Jack. Some of the letters were steamy and filled with longing for Jack, which made Ellen feel closer to her mother as a woman. Halfway through the stack, Ellen’s eyes started to burn, and she nodded off to sleep.
I’m flying over my mother’s watercolor peony painting. It’s water, the peonies are pink water. I drive in. I’m surrounded by warmth and a beautiful deep fruity, floral smell is coming off the pink paint. I lift my hands, as if to splash in the water, they are pink. The paint is thick liquid and my body is now part of the painting. There is no separation from my body and the paint. My mother is there standing with another woman. I believe this is Maude, my grandmother. They are both smiling at me with such love, I cry. My tears fall into the paint and become butterflies, suddenly I am surrounded by butterflies. I reach for my mother …
Ellen’s phone rang. She woke and fumbled through the covers to find it. By the fifth ring, she answered.
“Ellen, I know it’s late. Sounds like you were sleeping. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I got a chance to call.” Kim said.
“It’s okay, I’m so glad you called.”
“Oh my gosh, Ellen. This trip has been the most amazing experience of my life. The people of Peru are so incredible. And oh my god, the photographs we have made. I could go on all night.”
“Where are you right now? Ellen sat up in the bed.
“We are in Lima, Peru. We just got out of the Peruvian Amazon.”
“No. Are you in a hotel ro
om? Or out eating dinner?”
“It’s the same time zone as you. I’m in my hotel room. How are things? How’s Mom doing?”
Ellen paused and took a deep breath.
“Kim, there’s been an accident…”
Chapter 24
The peak color of the leaves made her drive beautiful. Ellen couldn’t believe tomorrow was the one year anniversary of her mother’s death. One year. How much had changed, her whole world. Her grandson was almost a year, her divorce from Richard was finalized in the early spring, and she was living her life. The one thing that hadn’t been settled was what had happened that day at the school. Ellen had reached out to Officer Johnson recently and invited him to the event today. He politely said he may come. When Ellen asked about the case, he said without any definite direction to pursue, things just went cold and other cases took a higher priority. Ellen had made peace with what had happened. It was a lesson in not fully understanding why things happen, but moving on from them and learning to find the good.
Today was the day, the ribbon cutting for the Joni Jones Center for the Arts. Ellen had decided on two ways to tell her mother’s story. First, an art center. Ellen was excited when she came up with the idea. She wasn’t sure in early January how she would accomplish it. But, it was going to happen she decided. A multi-use building in downtown Lynchburg right on Main Street became available for purchase and Ellen reached out to her banking resources and acquired a loan. When she purchased the building, the downtown revitalization committee was ecstatic about her plans for the building. They arranged for some press opportunities, and various print articles were written about her homage to the arts and her late mother.
But for Ellen, it was about telling her mother’s story. And giving the arts to everyone was a sweet bonus. The main exhibit was her mother’s collection of artwork, which she planned to be a permanent part of the museum. She had a graphic designer create a beautiful jade butterfly coupled with her mother’s name as the exhibit’s logo. A beautiful white silk-like banner with the logo was draped from the ceiling in the entryway of the exhibit. Ellen also found jade and gold frames for some of the pieces of her mother’s artwork. Kim was excited to have her photography from her brand ambassador trip and some portraits from her veteran project displayed in another exhibition room. There were plans for workshops, summer camps for adults and children, exhibits of all kinds. She loved the business of running something that enriched people’s lives. Once she was able to get the center established, Ellen was going to attempt to write her mother and Jack’s story in a novel. It was a stretch for Ellen to think she could write a novel, but she had always had a love for writing in her younger years. And really, the story pretty much told itself, she just needed to be the messenger, so to speak.
The center wasn’t without its challenges. So, the fact that the ribbon cutting was today and on schedule was a miracle. A miracle indeed. After her meeting with Jack, Ellen had gone back to see him three times. Each time there was no answer and the home seemed empty, from what Ellen could tell. She had Ted’s sister do research, but she couldn’t figure out where he’d gone. Then, just as Ellen was at a crossroad financially with the center remodel, she received a certified letter. It was a letter from Jack and a clipping from the paper of an article about Ellen and the center for the arts.
Dear Ellen,
I’m so proud of what you are doing. You gave me the biggest gift by your visit. What you didn’t know was that I was pretty sick when we met. I’m now with my Joni. It would be an honor to help you do Joni’s center. Attached you’ll find my attorney’s information. Please reach out to him.
All my love,
Jack
When Jack’s attorney explained that Jack had left everything to Ellen, she was floored. Jack had some stipulations for the center, but all of his parameters meshed with Ellen’s ideas. Jack lived simply and over the years had amassed a fortune. The money he had allotted for the center allowed Ellen to finish the remodeling and she named a couple of yearly scholarships to the center in Jack’s name, which she knew he wouldn’t have been particularly excited about. But she wanted to honor him and his contribution to making the Joni Jones Center for the Arts a reality.
Ellen rounded the deep exit ramp leading into downtown. She was excited and nervous, but she felt alive. Everyone would be coming at three, but Ellen was going early to make sure the whole process went off without a hitch. The atrium was the introduction for the visitor’s experience of the center. So, Ellen took great care with the design and decor choices made for the atrium. Ellen glanced at the peony painting. Encased in glass, the painting sat on a pedestal that was light jade, watermarked with gold butterflies and was the center focal point of the space. The furnishings were clean lines with a slight feel of the orient. Ellen bought a large painting of the Yangtze River, which hung over a set of couches. It was the second thing your eye was drawn to after the peony painting.
Ellen placed her hand over the glass that held the peony painting.
“Well Mom, how did I do?” Ellen wiped the glass with her shirt to remove her fingerprints. “I know you’re happy, I can feel it. This is going to be a place where people can create art in your name.”
A knock on the front door brought Ellen’s attention back, she looked over, it was the catering company. It was time to get ready.
Everything was perfect by three. The mayor, a few other officials and the local chamber of commerce were there. Once the ribbon was cut, a release went through Ellen. She had done it. Ted came over to Ellen and Kim with three flutes of champagne.
“Here you go ladies.”
“Thank you.” Kim and Ellen said together.
“Ellen, mom would be so proud.”
“She would wouldn’t she.” Ellen looked around at all the people looking at Joni’s artwork on the walls. “And I bet, she’d be moved at the comments about her work. I don’t think she understood how talented she was.”
Ted held up his glass, “To the talented Jones women. Let them all know their worth.” The glasses clinked. And Ted held up his glass again and looked directly at Ellen, “And to the most beautiful, sexy woman I know.”
Ellen reached in for a kiss with Ted.
“Getting a little sappy here. I’m off, maybe I’ll meet my Prince Charming.” Kim walked away.
Ted grabbed Ellen’s hand. “I’m so proud of you and this place is incredible.” Ellen leaned in for a slight hug. There was clearing of a throat and both Ellen and Ted looked in that direction.
“Riley!” Ted held his hand out for a handshake. “Wow, what are you doing here.”
“I’ve been keeping up with the project. And I didn’t want to miss this. Her work is awesome.” Riley said and looked at Ellen.
“Ellen, do you remember Riley. He was a senior last year.”
“I do remember you. Thanks for coming. Are you interested in art?”
Riley rolled the event program in his hands. “Not exactly. I’m at Yale, planning on a Neuroscience degree. But, your mother was a cool lady. I used to live in your neighborhood.”
“Really, I had no idea. Neuroscience, wow. That’s incredible.” Ellen said.
“I knew you’d get in there. It was probably my excellent letter of recommendation that got you in, right?”
“Sure, Mr. Wilson. It was definitely your letter.”
“What do you want to pursue with your Neuroscience degree?” Ellen asked.
“Oh, I’m going to find a cure for brain disorders and diseases like Alzheimer’s.”
“Riley, that’s incredible. Do you know that’s what my mother had?”
“Yeah, I know. I saw her one day on my way to school, she was dancing naked in your front yard.”
“What a great day that was, I met the love of my life that day.” Ted smiled and clinked his glass against Ellen’s.
“That was my mother.” Ellen said. “I need to go over and say goodbye to the mayor. It was really nice to see you Riley. And I hope that you
do cure Alzheimer’s.”
Yesterday’s opening of the Joni Jones Center for the Arts was a complete success. The newspaper and the local television station were there covering the event. And the artwork received high praise from the critics and the local downtown community was buzzing with energy about the center. Even Nikon sent some of its people to attend. Ellen was beyond pleased, which made this day bittersweet. Today was the anniversary of her mother’s death. Before starting her first day of work at the center, she was going to visit her mother’s grave.
The sun coming through the trees created shafts of light across the graves and leaves brushed across the pavement carried by the wind. Ellen buttoned her coat. As she walked up the hill to her mother’s gravesite, she noticed a cloud of pink. When Ellen moved closer, she saw the individual peonies that covered the gravesite. There were hundreds of them. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a floral truck in the distance, she ran to catch the driver just as he was getting into his truck.
“Excuse me,” Ellen tried to catch her breath. “That’s my mother’s grave. Did you deliver the peonies?”
“Yes, ma’am. All 300 of them.”
“Oh my god. Who bought them?”
“Don’t know. It was the weirdest thing. The order was placed back in January to be delivered today. Paid in full. It was a ton of money.”
Ellen walked back to the grave. “Well done Jack, well done.”
Author’s Notes
This book is dedicated to my grandmother Maude. She died when my mother was five. Like in this novel, Maude did have breast cancer and a silk scarf. Treatment for cancer back in the late forties was not like what we have today. So reconstructive surgery wouldn’t have been an option for Maude. Over the years, I’m sure my mother got tired of me asking questions about her memories of Maude and the silk scarf. Even as a child, I was struck by her pain of being without a mother. I think this novel has been brewing in me for a long time. The opening scene is what I imagined my mother’s relationship would have been with her mother. I hope that Maude is happy with this novel.
