Thank you for being gracious and good, even though I could see your heart breaking. Mine’s broken too, not to mention that I feel like the biggest ass in the world. I’m torn in half by my sense of duty and fatherhood versus wanting to be with you. You said you understand and I believe you. Having your dad leave when you were only six gives you special insight into what my little boys have gone through. I know this is the right thing to do, but it’s damn hard. I’m lost and broken.
I will never forget you. I will always love you.
Mike
Grant stood, shaking. Then, he yelled for his sisters.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Liz
LIZ, PEGGY, AND Beth landed in southern Oregon just before noon. They rented a car and drove an hour before reaching River Valley. As they crested the hill and descended into town, the sisters let out an exclamation of pleasure.
“Mother was wrong. It’s so much prettier than I remember,” Liz said. The little town had changed since the last time they’d visited. In the ten years since Aunt Sally’s funeral, River Valley had transformed from a rundown timber town to a quaint and sophisticated tourist destination. Nestled in the valley between forested mountains, River Valley was home to a toy store, a bistro named Riversong, an inn, a book store, a diner, a fly-fishing shop, and an ice cream parlor with an actual soda fountain. A trendy-looking bar called River Tavern had outside seating where vacationers—Liz assumed—were enjoying adult beverages. Blue awnings and flower pots dripping with luscious flowers and grasses complimented the tasteful reds and whites of the storefronts. Even the Dairy Queen had been remodeled to match the other attractive storefronts. Centered in the town square, a classic white gazebo stood between patches of grass and walkways. People eating ice cream milled outside of the quaint shops. Children played hopscotch on the walkway in front of the gazebo. Outside the book store, several people read and sipped iced coffees.
“It’s like a movie set,” Liz said.
“Only better,” said Peggy. “Because we can walk around in it.”
From the backseat, little Beth pointed to the town square. “Princess park.”
Peggy laughed. “It does look like a park made for a princess.”
“Go there?” asked Beth.
“Yes. Not right now, but maybe later,” said Peggy.
“We’re going to the lodge now,” said Liz. “And you know what? There’s a swimming pool there.”
Beth clapped her hands together with an expression of pure glee on her chubby face. “Yay. Swimming.”
The lodge was located outside of town, perched on the side of a mountain. It was built like the classic lodges of times past with wide beams and dark wood stained to allow the natural beauty to shine. Within the half hour, they were checked into their adjoining rooms with views of the mountains. After they were unpacked, Peggy took Beth down to the swimming pool so Liz could call Lola and let her know they’d arrived.
Lola answered right away with her husky, melodious voice. “Hello?”
“It’s Liz. We’ve arrived.”
“How absolutely wonderful.” She said something else in French that Liz couldn’t understand. “And your sister’s with you?”
“Yes, and her daughter. Beth. She’s three.”
“This is exciting. When can I see you?” Lola asked.
“Anytime.”
“How about tonight? We could cook out. I’m American again, you know, so I’m all about the grill.”
Liz laughed. “Sure. That would be fine.”
Lola gave her directions which consisted of only three steps. Go left out of town to River Road. Go three miles until Holland Loop. Turn left again and drive another mile. The farm would be on their right.
“About seven?” asked Lola. “Is that too late? I can’t get used to American’s dinner times.”
“Six would be better. Beth goes to sleep early.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Bring her jammies. We can put her to bed here if she gets tired.”
“Great. See you soon.”
After she hung up, she sat on the side of the bed and looked out at the scenery. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tension in her neck and shoulders lessoned. This was the trip I needed. What was Grant doing now? He had left her a voicemail the night before saying he’d arrived in Legley Bay but that he might not be able to talk because he was spending the evening with his sisters. He’d called again when they were on the flight, asking her to call him when they arrived safely. She punched in his number on her cell phone.
He answered on the first ring. “Lizzie.”
“We arrived safely. Already checked in to the hotel. How’s it going there?”
“We spent the day at my parent’s house, sorting things and purging the house. I found something in my dad’s closet that—” The phone went quiet.
“Grant?” What was wrong? His voice sounded like the night he’d gotten the call about his mother.
“I found this box of letters and photographs. They were from a man. They were together. My mom and this guy. We think he might be my biological father.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because of the dates on the photos and letters. Hadley found a copy of my parents’ marriage license in my dad’s desk. Given my birthday, it’s clear she was pregnant when she married my dad. She was with this other guy when I would’ve been conceived. We think she was pregnant, but not with my dad’s baby.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“And as if it can’t get any weirder, guess where he lived?”
She shook her head as if he could see her.
“The letters are from River Valley. I have his name and address. At least, what would have been his address. I don’t know if he’s even still alive.”
“River Valley? Our River Valley?”
“The one and only. I’ve been thinking about it. Legley Bay and River Valley are not very far apart. Southern Oregon wasn’t very populated back then. It’s not inconceivable that they met.”
“Stefan and Gennie will know if he still lives here. Or, they could find out very easily,” Liz said.
“He and Gennie left yesterday for a film. They’re filming in some remote location. I don’t think they have cell phone coverage because it went to voicemail when I called.”
That’s right. When she had emailed Gennie that she was planning a visit, her friend had replied from the airport. She’d sent her the names and numbers of some of her friends in River Valley. You must look them up. They’d love to meet you in person, she had said.
“Come to River Valley. We can ask around. It won’t be hard.” She told him of the names and numbers Gennie had sent.
“He had sons. That’s why he decided to stay with his wife. She left him, and he met my mother, but the wife came back to him. He took her back for the sake of his sons. That’s what’s in the letters anyway. Liz, I might have brothers. They’re most likely alive, right?”
“I would think so.”
“They were two and four back then.”
“You should come here. I’ll help you. The fact that I’m here at the same time you made this discovery makes it impossible to ignore. Not to sound too crazy, but it’s a huge sign from the universe. It’s meant to be.” Gennie said the place was magical. Were the powers of this little valley strong enough to pull them both here at the same time? Was this what Grant needed to understand his childhood? Would the truth heal him?
“The girls and I decided not to have any kind of memorial for him,” Grant said. “He didn’t have friends and we’re his only family.” He paused, the phone crackling like he was moving around. “Or, maybe the girls are his only family. Lizzie, it would make so much sense if this is true. It would explain why he hated me. He must’ve known I wasn’t his. It explains why she would’ve married him. She was alone and pregnant. They never made sense to me. But maybe this is why.”
“Come here tomorrow. We’ll sort it out. Together.”
�
�I knew you’d know what to do. My sisters are waiting, so I should go.” Another pause. “Lizzie, I would have come anyway. Even without this reason.”
“Good. Because I want you here.”
After they’d hung up, she went to the windows that looked out over the town below. From this vantage point, the town appeared small, nestled in the valley between the dramatic mountains. Alongside it, the river meandered across the valley in a green ribbon. What secrets do you have River Valley? Can I discover my grandmother here? Can I unravel my mother’s past? Can Grant find his father?
As if the town or the mountains or the river heard her, a brown and white speckled sparrow appeared on the railing of the balcony. The delicate sparrow fluttered her feathers and opened her beak to utter a delicate trill. She was magnificent despite her tiny size and plain markings. One of God’s many intricate miracles. She fixed one eye black upon Liz. Be still, she seemed to say. Rest and breathe. Look at the stars. Feel the sun on your skin. Let the moon follow you home. Love and be loved. All will be well.
**
It was a little after five when Liz, Peggy, and Beth headed out to the farm. They drove down a winding country road made of coarse pavement. Dormant memories surfaced as they passed meadows with wild grasses and wildflowers. She remembered riding in Uncle Jimmy’s old Ford truck that smelled of gasoline with aging vinyl seat covers. With the windows down, they sat on towels because the seats were too hot against their bare legs. Her hair had blown around her face, and the scents of wild roses and freshly cut grass and honeysuckle tickled her nose. Liz always got the window seat because she was older. Peggy didn’t mind the middle, she’d said. She liked to be between them. It was cozier that way.
Now, they passed the old country store where Uncle Jimmy had often taken them for a frozen treat.
“Oh, Liz, look. It’s the store where we used to get ice cream,” Peggy said.
“I loved that place.” It smelled of old wood and damp dirt, candy, and live bait. Uncle Jimmy let them pick whatever frozen treat they wanted from the freezer. Liz had always chosen the ice cream sandwich, whereas Peggy favored an orange popsicle. Uncle Jimmy always had a bottle of Coca-Cola he grabbed from a chest filled with ice and other sodas. Nothing tastes better than an ice cold Coca-Cola on a hot day, but don’t tell your aunt. She doesn’t believe in soda.
Liz had wondered how she couldn’t believe in it when it was obviously right there in the store.
The store was boarded up now. Even in the country, the old stores had faded to a memory. “What a shame it’s closed down. I wanted to take Beth there,” Liz said.
Beth babbled from the back of the car with one rosy cheek pressed against the window. “Ice cream, ice cream. Yummy ice cream.”
They drove another half mile until they came upon a dirt road marked by a rusty mailbox.
“I remember that mailbox,” Peggy said, as they turned down the road. “It used to be painted red.”
“With their name on it,” Liz said. “The Porters.”
The car bounced in a large pothole. Liz slowed the car. Dust wafted behind them. Green firs and pines lined the dirt road. Purple and yellow wildflowers dotted the wild grasses.
Beth squealed as they turned a corner and came upon the house and barn. The old farmhouse wasn’t as Liz remembered. She drew in a quick breath, startled by the changes, like seeing an old friend after a long absence. White paint peeled from the siding. Several shutters were missing. The stairs up to the wrap-around porch sagged. Rough planks boarded over an upstairs window. Once painted a proud red, the barn had faded to a patchy rust. The apple orchard to the right of the house remained, but the trees had grown into strange shapes from what Liz assumed was a lack of pruning. Weeds overran the vegetable garden. The fence had all but disintegrated.
Liz parked in front of the house. Uncle Jimmy’s carport still housed his Oldsmobile from the ‘70s, along with a new Subaru station wagon. As soon as they got out of the car, a woman appeared on the porch. Although they’d never met her in person, Liz remembered what she looked like from the photographs in the house.
Lola had fared better than the house. Yes, she had aged from the young woman from the pictures, but if anything, she was more attractive. Tan and slim, she wore a long flowing skirt and cotton blouse. Her curly brown hair was swept into a loose ponytail so tendrils hung around her face. She must dye it to keep away the gray. Just like Mother. Bangles decorated one slim arm; a man’s watch adorned the other. Large silver-hooped earrings dangled from delicate ears. Bright lipstick and subtle eye makeup played up her large, green eyes. Liz calculated Lola’s age. Three years older than Mother would make her sixty.
Lola hurried down the stairs with her arms open wide. “Welcome.” When they embraced, Liz caught a whiff of a spicy perfume that smelled expensive. “I’d know you anywhere, Liz. Those big brown eyes haven’t changed one bit.” Lola turned to Peggy. “And you look just like your mother.”
“I get that a lot,” Peggy said as they embraced.
Beth held onto the hem of Peggy’s shorts, looking up at Lola with her large brown eyes. “And who is this?”
“Beth,” said Beth.
Lola knelt, her long skirt pooling around her. “And how old are you, Miss Beth?”
Beth held up three fingers. “This many.”
“A big girl, then.”
Beth nodded with great solemnity and grabbed her mother’s leg.
Lola smiled. “I’m delighted you’re here, Beth. It’s such a wonderful surprise. Do you like surprises?”
“Yes.” Beth glanced up at Peggy to make sure it was all right to say so.
“Good. Because I have a surprise in the house for after dinner. Have you ever had belgian chocolates?”
Beth shook her head no.
“If you do a good job eating your dinner, perhaps your mother would let you have a taste.” Lola stood, smoothing her skirts. “And maybe mama and auntie would like some too?”
Peggy grinned. “I have had belgian chocolate and I would welcome more.”
Lola clapped her hands together in apparent delight. “Excellent. Now come inside. I have some rosé cooled, and we can sit outside in the back under the shade of our big oak. This Oregon summer heat—I’d forgotten how taxing it can be without a full submersion in the river.”
They followed her up the rickety steps and into the entry hall of the house. The same built-in bench with coat hooks. She expected to see Uncle Jimmy’s jacket hanging there. But the hooks were empty. The door to the left, where Aunt Sally and Uncle Jimmy’s bedroom had been, was open. Only a bed? Where was Aunt Sally’s dark wood furniture? The doilies and old-fashioned lamps? She looked to the right, expecting to see the dark green couch, scuffed leather chairs, and the square coffee table that one of their cats had used as a scratching post. The room was barren. Nothing but hard wood floors. Not even a curtain.
Lola’s eyes misted as she spoke. “Back when mama died, I had someone come in and sell the furniture. I regret it. Even if I didn’t keep everything, it would be nice to have some of the old. Regardless, everything’s shabby. It was a shock to me, which is silly. It’s been sitting for twelve years unoccupied or uncared for. I’ve only been back a month and haven’t had an opportunity to start improvements. Honestly, I’m trying to decide if I want to stay permanently or go back to my home in France. My Henri passed away almost a year ago and I find myself in flux. I married him when I was twenty years old.”
“We’re so sorry about Henri,” Liz said.
“It’s hard to lose a spouse unexpectedly,” Peggy said. “I wish we could’ve met him.”
“He was a lovely man. Gentle and kind and remarkably gifted. I wake in the morning expecting to roll over and see him there.” Lola touched the necklace hanging around her neck. A man’s wedding ring. Henri’s. The watch is his too.
“I thought a change of scenery might be good,” Lola said. “As I explained in my letter, he left me quite a tidy sum. However, it isn’t enough to
live another twenty years with two homes. I can’t decide what I want to do.”
“They say you shouldn’t make any big moves the first year after a loss,” Peggy said. “Or, that’s what people keep telling me.”
“Yes, I’ve been told this too by well-meaning friends,” Lola said. “Sometimes I want to tell them to mind their own business.”
Peggy laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
“Regardless, I have to fix this place up before I can sell it or decide to live in it. I went into town yesterday to ask around about carpenters. I have the name of a Joshua. Restoring old homes is his specialty, from what I understand.”
“Has the house been empty all these years?” Liz asked.
“Yes. I didn’t want renters here when I was so far away. The house may need a little love right now, but her bones are good. I didn’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Did you think about selling? I mean, before.” Peggy asked.
“As much as we could have used the money, I couldn’t do it. We have twenty acres of land here. It belongs to our family—my father’s family were pioneers here and it’s all we have left of that legacy. I wanted to keep it in the family, especially knowing how connected you two felt to this place.”
“How did you know that?” Peggy asked.
“My mother wrote to me almost every week. She never seemed happier than the summers you two were here. It thrilled her that you two loved it here. I could see that you loved this place as much as she did. That’s why I’m so glad you’re here. I wanted you two to weigh in before I decided anything. My mother might haunt me if I sold it without consulting you girls.” Lola grinned as she gestured for them to follow her down the short hallway to the kitchen. To the right, the dining room sat empty. So many happy dinners we had there.
“For years I hoped to get back here,” Lola said. “Money, you know. Henri’s paintings never brought much in. We lived on my teacher salary.”
They arrived in the kitchen. The old appliances were still there. Thank goodness something’s the same. The stove was from the fifties, but the refrigerator had been upgraded in the late seventies. Aunt Sally had always called it her “new” refrigerator even though it was twenty years old at the time.
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