March 21, 1976
My dearest Monty,
Forgive me for being such a coward and writing instead of telling you personally or over the phone. Your letter arrived this afternoon. I knew it was coming and had guessed at its contents. Nevertheless I was stunned. You want an answer right away. I understand, and you deserve one, but I can’t make a decision like this under pressure.
Before I write any more, it’s important that you know how deeply I’ve come to love you. I love you so much…and yet, I’m afraid. I have never completely understood what frightens me about marrying you, but the fear is there. I suspect you know what’s coming.
I’m grateful you had the courage to bring up Nick. Few people do. Your tenderness toward my feelings for him touched my heart, and has helped me sort through my feelings about you and me. In my own defense, I never expected to fall in love again. I certainly didn’t anticipate this. Perhaps such thinking was shortsighted. If I were to see a counselor, I’m sure he or she would advise me to let go of the past and get on with my life. Unfortunately I seem incapable of that, especially if it means letting go of Nick. I’m so grateful you understand and accept my love for him.
Heaven knows my parents will make a fuss, but what I’d like to suggest is this. Accept the job with the Justice Department and move in with me. Let’s give this marriage idea a trial run first.
I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do for now.
Love,
Jillian
Pine Ridge Herald
May 29, 1976
Neighbors Section
Jillian Lawton Marries Prominent Local Attorney
Judge and Mrs. Leonard Lawton are pleased to announce the marriage of their daughter, Jillian Lynn Lawton, to Montgomery Gordon.
The bride is a 1966 Graduate of Holy Name Academy in Pine Ridge, a 1970 graduate of Barnard College, and has a Harvard Law degree. She is currently residing in New York City. She is an associate at Kline and Shoemaker, Attorneys at Law.
The groom has recently accepted a position with the United States Justice Deparment. The couple will make their home in New York City.
Lesley Knowles, a lifelong friend of the bride, served as matron of honor and Charles Johnson, the groom’s cousin, served as best man. The bride’s gown featured French lace and beaded pearls over satin.
A reception was held immediately following the ceremony at Pine Ridge Country Club.
JILLIAN LAWTON GORDON
June 19, 1976
Dearest Lesley,
I’m taking a moment to jot you a long-overdue note. Monty and I are settling into married life. I love my husband, but even now I’m not sure I did the right thing.
I agreed to go through with the wedding because I didn’t want to lose him. I’ve never had anyone love me like this. Not even Nick. Monty is completely and totally dedicated to me. I’m telling you all this as a preface to describing our first fight. I had my hair cut and it never occurred to me that I should mention my plans to Monty. It’s trimmed like Dorothy Hamill’s and I love its short, easy-to-care-for style. Monty was so upset he barely said a word to me all night. I’m not accustomed to having a man tell me how to wear my hair. I let that be known in terms he was sure to understand. He got huffy and I got huffy right back. I learned one thing. I hate the silent treatment. We patched it up fast enough and I lured him to bed to prove all was forgiven. We so seldom bicker and this has taught us both some valuable lessons.
Speaking of “bed,” we’re hoping I’ll get pregnant soon. With Monty turning 45 this year, we don’t want to wait much longer. You, my dear and fertile friend, never seemed to have a problem with that. Any hints you care to pass on? I’ll let you know at reunion time how successful we are.
Monty and I will be staying in the city for the bicentennial celebration. Already there’s talk about security around the United Nations building against possible terrorist attack. We don’t have any definite plans for the rest of the summer, other than going to Pine Ridge in early August.
So Buck bought himself a CB radio. Yes, I can picture it! What’s his “handle”? I’ll bet Davey and Dougie love riding around in his pickup chatting with the big truckers on the Interstate. You haven’t said much about Buck lately, which leads me to think he’s up to something unpleasant.
My mom and dad are enjoying their retirement to the fullest. Monty and I are picking them up at the airport tomorrow. They’ve spent the last two weeks in Italy. Speaking of traveling, your father will love Philadelphia. It’s a fabulous city. I’m sorry your mother won’t be attending the Legionnaires’ convention with him, but from what I understand men rarely bring their wives to these things.
I can hardly wait for our class reunion, but I’m far more interested in spending time with you.
Promise me you’ll write soon.
Love,
Jillian
HOLY NAME ACADEMY AND MARQUETTE HIGH SCHOOL
ANNOUNCE
THE TEN-YEAR REUNION OF THE CLASS OF 1966
AUGUST 6–8, 1976
PINE RIDGE, WASHINGTON
FRIDAY NIGHT GET-TOGETHER
SATURDAY DINNER AND DANCE
SUNDAY PICNIC
RSVP Lesley (Adamski) Knowles
IN MEMORY OF MICHAEL JOHN ADAMSKI
March 10, 1925—July 6, 1976
SERVICES
Emerson Mortuary
ORGANIST
Sally Johnson
CASKETBEARERS
Michael Adamski, Jr.
Clarence Behrens
Joseph Adamski
David “Buck” Knowles
Bruce Adamski
Roy Bensen
INTERMENT
Pine Ridge Cemetery
Pine Ridge, Washington
Lesley’s Diary
August 9, 1976
We are all reeling from the sudden and unexpected death of my father. Off he went with his beer-drinking buddies to Philadelphia for the American Legion convention. Mom drove him to the airport and kissed him goodbye, never dreaming that the next time she saw him would be in a casket. Dad was one of the first to come down with the mysterious ailment and one of the first to die. He was gone even before Mom could make arrangements to fly East. The shock of it rippled through our community. Bud Jones, Dad’s roommate at the convention, got sick too, but he survived. No one’s sure what happened to cause this—it’s still being investigated. All I know is that my father is dead, and my mother is grieving.
I have a lot of mixed feelings about my father. Sometimes I thought I hated him. He was never the kind of father I needed, and we disagreed on many things, but I did love him. Not until he died did I realize how much. He may not have been the greatest dad, but he was my dad. I’m grateful I had the reunion work to keep me busy. As long as I was involved with those arrangements, I didn’t need to deal with my feelings about him.
Now that the ten-year high school reunion has come and gone, I can say that all the committee’s hard work paid off. It was wonderful to see everyone again. The girls looked basically the same; it was the boys who were different. Most had filled out and looked more mature, more muscular.
After literally weeks of work, I came down with a terrible case of nerves. Not everyone knew I was pregnant when we graduated, and now Buck and I have four children. Not surprisingly, I received the award for the one with the most kids.
Although it was less than three weeks since we buried my dad, Mom insisted I have a new dress. All at once I felt like prom night all over again. I modeled the dress for Buck and he growled and chased me around the house. The kids loved it and laughed with delight as they watched their father sweep me off my feet.
The night of the dinner and dance it was an entirely different story. Buck knew I was supposed to be at the hall early to help set up, but he was late and then had to shower. All in all, we arrived thirty minutes late and the entire evening started on a negative note.
Then Buck disappeared and was gone for more than an hour. When he returned he had liquor
on his breath and no one needed to tell me he’d been in the parking lot with a bottle, joking with his loser buddies. I tried not to let it bother me. This was my class reunion and if he wanted to spend it in the parking lot making crude jokes with his friends, that was his choice. I guess some of what I’m learning at Al-Anon is finally sinking in!
The highlight of the evening was dancing with Roy Kloster. Dr. Roy Kloster these days. I’ve known Roy nearly all my life. We met in first grade and went through the first eight years of school together. Then he went to Marquette and I moved on to Holy Name Academy. I asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance when we were freshmen and desperately wanted him to kiss me. He didn’t. After that, we saw each other at sporting events and such, but neither of us ever had much to say.
Now, ten years following graduation, Roy confessed he’d had a major crush on me all through high school. On me! He was the Valedictorian of his class and I was the Salutatorian for mine. Jillian and I had always planned to be co-Valedictorians, but with the pregnancy and all, I let my last quarter’s grades slide. Roy isn’t married, and he came to the reunion alone. He teased me about getting the award for the ten-year graduate with the most kids.
Afterward I sat and chatted with Jillian and Cindy and Judy and some of the other girls. At one point, I found a quiet corner to sit and watch my friends, people I knew as a child. The oddest sensation came over me. I suddenly realized I was close to tears and I wasn’t sure why. I’ve been overly emotional lately, which is understandable, seeing that I recently lost my father, but this sadness was part of something else. I guess I’d have to call it regret. Regret about bad decisions and lost dreams.
From the age of six, I thought Roy was wonderful. He doesn’t remember this, but he defended me against Todd Kramer in the third grade and got a black eye for his efforts. In eighth grade, he secretly put a valentine and a small box of chocolates on my desk during recess, but I always knew he was the one. What I didn’t know about Roy was that he wanted to be a doctor. He never knew I dreamed of becoming a nurse.
I know this is wrong, and may God forgive me, but when I first heard the news about my dad I wished it had been Buck who’d died. I’ve felt guilty about that ever since. Buck is my husband and the father of my children. I married him, not Roy Kloster and not Cole Greenberg. I’ve got to accept reality and quit playing these ridiculous games in my mind. If I hadn’t married Buck, there’d be no Davey, Lindy, Doug or Christopher. My children are my everything.
It’s nearly two in the morning and I’m exhausted. Buck still isn’t home, but I refuse to guess where he might be or with whom. It’s best not to scratch too deeply below the surface because I know I won’t like what I find. I’m trying hard to hold on to the happy memories from the reunion and not to think about anything else. I’m not going to hear from Roy again, and that’s for the best.
Bumper sticker on Jillian’s car:
NIXON’S FORD—A LEMON
Bumper sticker on Buck’s pickup:
BOZO FOR PRESIDENT
1978
Jillian’s Journal
January 1, 1978
Dearest Nick,
I’m still not pregnant. Monty and I are so discouraged. We’ve been married almost two years now. We don’t know what’s wrong. Both of us have been tested, a humiliating experience which we endured because we desperately want a child. I couldn’t bear it if Monty and I can’t have children. As you can see, I’m very distressed about this. However, my parents waited years for me and I eventually came along. I take hope from that.
Married life is surprisingly good. Monty wants me to cut back on my work hours. He believes it’s the stress of my job that’s keeping me from getting pregnant. I suspect he’s right, and as of the first of the year (today!) I’ll be in the office only three days a week. We moved into a wonderful new apartment and absolutely love it.
I feel this urgency to hurry up and have children. Monty’s age is a factor and my parents’ ages, too. Both my mother and father are anxious for grandchildren. Dad’s turning seventy this year, and he’d like the opportunity to watch them grow up.
Monty and I spent four days in Pine Ridge over the Christmas holidays. Last year Mom and Dad flew to New York, but Dad hates to fly. He does it for Mom and me. He has this theory about all those germs floating around and infecting everyone unlucky enough to share the flight. His theories are often amusing. I sit and listen, nod at the appropriate times and pretend to agree. I wonder if I’ll be anything like him at that age. In many ways I hope I am.
Unfortunately, because of our abbreviated visit, I only had a few hours with Lesley. Buck was off work because of a bad back but was feeling well enough to leave his sickbed to go bowling with his buddies. (Need I say more?) I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to bite my tongue when it comes to the subject of Buck Knowles. Lesley is more religious than ever, which I can understand. If I was married to Buck, I’d find God, too.
She’s clever at crafts and sews these cute little Tooth Fairy pouches from leftover material. She sells them at Christmas bazaars and other craft shows. Apparently she’s doing quite well with that. I wish we’d had more time, but Christopher had an ear infection and she had to take him to the doctor on the 26th, when we’d originally planned to get together. Luckily Pine Ridge now has a free health clinic. Buck hasn’t worked enough hours for the mill to cover his health insurance so Lesley had to wait her turn, which took hours. She was there nearly all of one day before the doctor could see Christopher and write a prescription. I did visit the next day. David, Lindy and Doug were so enthusiastic about the gifts I brought, so pathetically grateful, it nearly broke my heart. You’ll note Davey now prefers to be called David. He’s a lovely child, although that isn’t generally the way I’d describe an eleven-year-old boy. He’s sensitive and caring, gentle-spirited and protective of his younger brothers and sister. I can already see that Lindy’s going to be a handful. I don’t envy Lesley, especially when her daughter hits the teenage years. Dougie is in first grade and a real charmer. Because his ear hurt, three-year-old Christopher clung to Lesley and refused to have anything to do with me.
I was sorry not to have time to visit Mrs. Adamski. Although she didn’t say much, Lesley alluded to the fact that her mother’s life is vastly different now that Mr. Adamski is gone. Apparently she’s dating and has a regular beau. Good for her!
Jim and I met Christmas Eve Day at the cemetery and placed flowers on your parents’ graves and on yours, too. We were only together an hour, but as far as I could tell, he’s happy. I’m delighted that he married Angie, and you would be, too. She’s been good for him. It wouldn’t surprise me if they made you an uncle soon.
I thought that after this year, I wouldn’t write you any more letters. I’m married now and somehow it didn’t seem right that I should continue this. I loved you so completely, Nick, but you left me. It’s been almost ten years since you were killed. As much as I thought everything would stay frozen in that time and space, it hasn’t. I’ve aged ten years, and the world is changing so fast I sometimes feel I can’t keep up. Most importantly, I have a husband now, whom I truly love. Still, I couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go completely. At one time you were my whole world, and I was yours.
I decided this morning, as I reached for my new journal, that one day a year, just one, I would invite you back into my life. Once a year, on January first, I will sit down and talk to you, just as if you were here with me.
You see, Nick, I’ve discovered that life does stagger forward and there’s a certain beauty in that. Because in a way, I experience the past and the present at once. When I write you, I force myself to look back through time at the girl I was. I’m a woman now, and I’d like to think I’m wiser and a bit more pragmatic. Still, part of me continues to hold on to you. For now that’s the right thing to do, but at some point in the future, I might choose to release you. Just remember that won’t mean I’ve forgotten you or stopped loving you.
; I know this sounds a little crazy, but I swear there are moments when I feel you’re with me. Not in a physical sense, but a spiritual one. It’s the sort of thing Lesley probably believes. She’s so into the Bible and her new church. Her life is chaotic, mostly due to Buck, but she remains outwardly calm and serene. I wish I could be more like that. Perhaps one day I’ll find that serenity myself. Perhaps next year when I write you, I’ll be pregnant. That’s my prayer.
Until then…
Jillian
P.S. You’ll note that this is a “journal” and not just a diary—or so the clerk at the stationery store informed me. Does that mean my thoughts and observations are supposed to become more impressive?
January 15, 1978
Dearest Jillian,
Happy birthday! Just a short note inside this card to wish you a happy 30th. We’re all doing fine. Buck still isn’t working. I’ve learned fifty different ways to cook beans. Thank God for food banks.
Write soon.
Lesley
SURPRISE!
Happy 2nd Anniversary
(a little early!)
Love,
Monty
* * *
Caribbean Cruise Specialists
Itinerary for passengers:
Jillian Gordon
and Montgomery Gordon
Your Ship: the Grand Prince Rupert
Thank you for booking our premier 10-day package.
Welcome aboard!
* * *
Lesley’s Journal
March 26, 1978
This hasn’t been a good day. I woke up early and sat with my coffee and my Bible in order to clear my head. It was necessary, otherwise the anger would’ve consumed me. Buck crawled into bed at two in the morning, reeking of cheap cologne and stale beer. He’s doing everything I swore I wouldn’t put up with. Not only is he doing it, he’s flaunting it, as if he wants me to challenge him. Instead I gather my children around me and pretend I don’t notice. I’m sick of my life, sick of swallowing my pride and struggling to hold up my head in public. God knows I’ve done everything I can to save this marriage.
Between Friends Page 15
