by Beth Duke
I stared at my target shining in the driveway for a long time. Then, I slid under Johnny’s DeSoto and pulled a flashlight and pocketknife from my jacket. The brake line was easy to locate, and I made a tiny puncture in it.
Violet, I never meant for Johnny to get hurt. I somehow thought if I took away his flashy car you might not want to be with him. Maybe he’d get in trouble with his dad if he tore up the fender. Maybe he’d have to stay away from you.
When our neighbor lady came to tell Mama about the wreck, and about Kimmie, I ran to my room in tears. I remember Mama telling her, “Oh, Chet has a big crush on his babysitter, Johnny’s girlfriend. I’d better see about him.”
My mother sat on my bed with her arms folded and demanded to know why I was crying. I panicked and blurted out everything. She stood up and slapped me hard. She told me the police would be coming for me soon.
Mama didn’t cry. She didn’t yell. It was almost as if she’d wanted me to give her a reason to leave.
She walked over to the door and just before she closed it she said she and CeeCee were going somewhere else to live and my father could take charge of me. She promised me one thing: if I’d stay away from her and my sister, if I’d live with Dad and behave, she wouldn’t tell anyone what I’d done.
I dug a hole in the back yard and buried the pocketknife that afternoon. Mama and CeeCee were gone by suppertime. She left a note on the kitchen table, and my father fell to pieces when he read it.
When he said I had to go live with my aunt, I ran to your house. I wanted to explain. I wanted to confess what I’d done. All I could do was cry, especially when I saw the pain Johnny’s accident had caused you.
I destroyed so much in a few seconds of my life, Violet. I’d give anything if I could take it back. I am so very, very sorry.
I still wake up shaking in the middle of the night, sure my secret is about to be discovered. Maybe it will be. Maybe I deserve it.
The last time I saw you—that night at the train station—you looked so beautiful, even crying about your canceled trip. You even cry pretty, Violet. Everything you do, you do pretty.
It hurt me so bad to see you that way. I knew you would never be happy with Sam Davidson and his mother always harping after you. When I saw the reservation he’d made at the station, I asked my daddy about it. He said you two were taking a trip alone and it was a secret. So I tried to help the only way I could. I called Mrs. Davidson and told her my daddy asked me to confirm Sam’s reservation for him and you. I figured they would try to stop you from making a big mistake you’d regret for the rest of your life, Violet. I only want you to be happy. Someday you’ll know it’s me that is meant for you.
You used to laugh when you said it, but it’s true, you know—everybody loves you. But I love you more than anyone, and I believe you know that. I believe I am going to see you again someday, and I hope you can somehow forgive me in your heart. If I never get the courage to tell you what I did out of love for you, well, you’ll know after I’m gone.
Yours forever,
Chet
“This is unbelievable,” I put the letter down and picked it up again immediately, as though the words might have changed. “All that time, and she had no idea. She was in love with a man who destroyed her life, Rick.”
“Makes you wonder what else he kept from her.” Rick drummed his fingers on the table, a sure sign he was in deep thought.
“We’ll never know for sure what happened with Tolly, Rick. We’re not going to find out if Chet had anything to do with his death, but if he did he was trying to protect Violet from him, and I understand that. Tolly might have killed Violet if he’d lived.” I grabbed Rick’s arm. “Oh my gosh. There wouldn’t have been a Tolly if Chet hadn’t done this. Maybe she’d have stayed with Johnny. Maybe she’d have married Sam and raised a beautiful daughter with him. Maybe several children.”
Rick took the letter from my hands and said, “He killed Johnny’s sister and nearly killed Johnny. He caused her to marry a cruel man who beat and tortured her, then she fell in love with him. I’ve never heard of anything like it, and I’ve seen a lot. Son of a bitch should’ve been in jail.”
“I don’t know, Rick. He was a child when he did all that.” I pictured the neglected little boy Chet had been; the lunch money Violet gave him and the nights he spent wondering where his mother had gone. No one understood him as well as I did.
“You have got to be kidding me. He was a psychopath. At least a sociopath.” He swept an arm toward the window. “There are bad people in this world, Ronni. They smile at you in the grocery store and help old ladies cross the street and charm the hell out of strangers and make proclamations of love. Don’t be naïve.”
“Maybe your job shows you the worst of humanity, but mine doesn’t, Rick.”
“Oh my God. You live in an idealistic world, Ronni. I’m a realist. And the truth is, someone you loved with all your heart had her life wrecked by a criminal. What do you think Violet would have said if she knew any of this? You think her precious Chet would still have been precious?” He threw Chet’s letter down on the table, exasperated.
“He didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt in that car. He didn’t know how much she loved Sam, and he certainly didn’t know Violet was pregnant...”
“And that makes it all fine? Ronni, I love your sweetness and kindness, but you have a lot to learn.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“People like Chet Wilson will stop at nothing to get what they want. There’s no telling what else he did.”
“I don’t know.” I put my head in my hands. “I don’t know what to think about all this, except it makes me sick. I’m not even sure if I’d have shattered Violet’s heart with the truth if I’d found out.” I started to cry, picturing Violet and Chet in his little room at Fairfield, the two of them oblivious to anyone but each other.
Rick pulled me to my feet and held me close, brushing tears away and smoothing my hair.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I wish we’d never seen that letter.”
“I was expecting a syrupy love note, like CeeCee suggested. Rick, you don’t think CeeCee knew?”
“No. I’d bet anything she had no idea. That stuff about ruining Chet’s life had to do with his obsession with Violet and his unhappy marriage. I didn’t see any sign she knew what he’d done. This letter would’ve been burned in CeeCee’s fireplace years ago if she had. Well, I should probably say Bettina’s marble fireplace. CeeCee would’ve burned it in a backyard bonfire.”
“That’s true,” I said, collapsing back into the chair. I traced Chet’s words with my finger: There is something I have to tell you. Nothing happened the way it was supposed to, Violet. I was a stupid, heartsick kid at the time.
“Wow.” I shook my head. “I guess I have the rest of my book.”
He tipped my chin up with his finger. “Give yourself a little time to digest all this, huh? You don’t have to start right now.”
“Yes, I do. Writing about it will help me,” I said. I kissed him and pulled away. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a few hours to work on it.” I nodded at the front door, knowing he understood my need to be alone.
He paused and turned around before he left. “Ronni,” he said, “have you thought about the implications of the story, when the book is printed? Johnny and Sam and Chet may be gone, but their children and grandchildren and Deanna...”
“All deserve to know the truth,” I answered. “As horrible as it is.”
I sat at the table for the longest time, reeling from shock. I read Chet’s letter over and over until every word was familiar.
When I met Violet I was a scared kid, untethered, insecure, and unsure about anything in my life. She’d loved me and encouraged me and somehow I’d turned into what she’d thought I was all along.
I was the person who could tell her story like no other.
I walked to my bedroom and took Violet’s angel bracelet out,
turning it over and over in my hand. I hung it on the corner of the photos I’d framed side by side and placed on my dresser. Violet beamed at me from her school’s entry arches in the one on the left. She shined even more brightly on the right, next to a grinning Johnny, pretending to dance in her “perfect” world.
I sat down and started to type. The first thing I did was change the opening sentence of Violet’s first chapter to: “Johnny pulled his daddy’s shiny new black DeSoto to the curb in front of Violet’s house.”
epilogue
RONNI
Six Months Later
“You’re not getting white or silver. Too hard to see on the road.” Rick pulled his head out of a green Honda Accord, the thousandth car we’d looked at today.
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe bright red with lime green stripes?”
“Laugh all you like. I want you safe. How do you feel about school bus yellow?”
“Fortunately, Honda wouldn’t do that to me. Not even an option. Maybe another deep red like Ruby.” I nodded wistfully at my beloved car across the lot, who was suffering from transmission problems and needed new brakes, too.
In the end we chose a shiny black Acura TL and I named him Melvin.
Two weeks after I sent my revised and expanded manuscript, Jennifer Meyer had called and given me the name of a literary agent, Mark Forbes. Mark and Jennifer had negotiated a $110,000 advance on my book, plus a generous royalty deal on future sales. Melvin was the first major purchase I made.
“You realize,” Jennifer told me, “you’re going to go on a cross-country tour to launch your book. That will mean a leave of absence from your job, or quitting altogether. We’ll schedule it for spring of next year so you’ll have plenty of time to make arrangements.”
I’d called Deanna at our usual three o’clock that Saturday, when I knew she wouldn’t be babysitting Lacey, The Center of the Universe.
“I can’t believe it! I am so proud of you, Ronni, and I know my mother would be, too. You’ve worked so hard. I can’t wait to read it.”
I felt a little stab at the things Deanna would discover. “I hope you like it,” was the best I could manage.
“I have some big news, too, Ronni.”
“What? Are you coming to visit?”
Deanna was silent for a few seconds. “Actually, I’m coming to stay. I’ve been in touch with a realtor in Anniston and we’ve found the perfect house for me, Sarah and the kids.”
“All of you!” I shrieked. “I can’t wait, Deanna. I need you here. And you’re going to love it. Can you imagine seeing the leaves change every year? And we even get snow sometimes, not too much, but enough to have fun. And...”
“I know,” she laughed. “I don’t need the chamber of commerce spiel. Besides, I’ve already bought ten new sweaters. I have Alabama red clay in my blood, Ronni. I love it there. The truth is, I also want to be near you, honey.” She paused. “Sarah is doing well, and we’ve found a twelve-step program meeting she can attend a few times a week. Charlotte will be going to college next year, and she likes Auburn. We’ll have in-state tuition after a year of residence. And,” she sighed, “Kevin will be enrolled at Oxford High School. He thinks he’ll become a football star there and Nick Saban will chase after him. Not that he’s ever been off the bench for Palmetto High.”
“I am positive the Alabama air will give him mad skills,” I said. “Anyway, Rick’s on his way here. We’re going to celebrate tonight at Classic On Noble in Anniston. It’s a gorgeous restaurant, Deanna. You’ll love it...”
“I’m sold already, Ronni. You can stop. We’ll see you in a couple of months. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I grinned at my cell phone, dying to tell Rick. He’d been with the boys all morning and was driving back from Tuscaloosa.
Mr. and Mrs. Gasbag had a new baby boy named Gaston, which Rick claimed would ensure the kid regularly scheduled playground beatings if they didn’t give him a less pretentious nickname. Jeremy and Joshua were as revolted by the name as their dad, but good big brothers by all accounts. So far. Victoria was giving Rick all the time he wanted with his sons, busy with the baby.
He walked in a few minutes later. “You won’t believe what Vicky did to that child. There’s a portrait of his little three month old blob self propped next to Daddy’s best-selling book. A professional portrait, hanging in the foyer.” He laughed and picked me up in a hug, swinging around me before setting me down. “If they only knew we call them the Gasbags, Gaston would be even more hilarious,” Rick said, “Little Gaston Gasbag, destined for a life of bowties and seersucker shorts. Roll, Le Tide.”
I giggled. “I guess there are worse names, but I can’t imagine one. I need you to sneak a pic of that portrait for me.”
“Oh, I will. I thought Rick O’Shea was the cruelest thing parents could perpetrate namewise. I was so wrong. Speaking of parents, mine want us to join them at the lakehouse next weekend.”
“Fine,” I said. I’d grown to like Mr. and Mrs. O’Shea a lot, and they seemed to be relieved I was nothing like Victoria.
Rick produced a bottle of French champagne and handed it to me. “For my favorite author. Let’s chill it and get an early start on tonight’s celebration. I love you, babe, and I am so proud of you.”
“There’s one more thing to celebrate,” I said. “Deanna and her family are moving to Anniston. In two months!”
Rick’s grin was ear to ear. “I know,” he admitted. “She made me keep it a secret.”
I parked Melvin in front of Fairfield Springs and took a deep breath. It would be my last day there for several reasons. When my book was published, Donna would not be happy with its portrayal of her, to say the least. I doubted Fairfield would keep me employed after finding out my role in Violet and Chet’s meetings. Herb would probably bring another lawsuit. I was paying a much bigger price than I’d considered by telling Violet’s secrets. The thought of giving up my patients broke my heart, but Kait and Rick both promised me I’d be able to find a job at another facility later on if I wanted, if not back at Fairfield.
I had, at least, changed all the characters’ names in the book. “Chet’s” family would be spared embarrassment, though I really hoped “Loretta” never read it. Even “Fairfield Springs” wasn’t the real name of my employer.
I wrote it for Violet. I loved her, and I’d live with the consequences. I was terrified of the book tour coming up, but Rick had promised to fly out and join me as often as he could. My notice had been given to Donna with the excuse I was going back to school for my RN degree. Maybe I’d actually do it if the writing thing didn’t work out.
My biggest concern, the one that kept me awake at night, was Deanna. I’d tried to prepare her for what she’d learn, to tell her that her mother’s life had been far more difficult and painful than anyone had known. I’d offered to tell her everything months ago, sitting on my couch, and she refused.
“Let me read the book, Ronni, and experience it like everyone else. Then we’ll talk. I think it will be easier for me that way.” She’d looked at my face and smiled. “Honey, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t know my mother at all. Nothing I find out can take that away from me.”
I’d smiled back and gulped my wine, hoping she’d feel the same way after learning about Chet and all he’d set in motion.
Kait, the only person at Fairfield who knew the real reason I was leaving, was crying with me in the break room after I’d kissed the last of my favorite patients and residents goodbye. Donna stuck her head in to tell me she’d be gone, too, in three more weeks. “Paul got a big promotion at Petsmart. They’re moving him to the corporate headquarters in Phoenix. I’m going to try to find a less stressful job there, like air traffic control.” I laughed and held out my arms to her for a hug. “You’ll be missed around here, Ronni. Come back and reapply when you get your degree. By then they’ll have a permanent director of nursing. It’s gonna be hard to replace moi.”
“I probably will, Donna. You know
how much I love this place. I hope you’re happy in Arizona.”
We watched Donna walk out to the parking lot. Kait smiled and held me by my upper arms, wide-eyed. “Guess who’s interim director? And who’s determined to make it permanent?”
“No!” I gasped. “Really? Oh, gosh, Kait, you’d be perfect.”
“Perfect if you decide to come back, too,” she smiled and shook me a little. “You’re the best nurse we’ve ever had, Ronni. Well, when you’re working with me. And you changed all the names in the book, so I don’t think there’d be a problem. Even if old Herb decides to sue again, Fairfield will probably settle. You were trying to do what was best for your patient, and it was good for Chet.”
“That’s true. I hope you’re right. In the meantime, I am going to miss you more than I can say.” I hugged her tight and stepped back, afraid I’d break into sobs if I said any more.
“One more thing,” Kait said. “I want you to see something in Violet’s Activity Room Malt Shop Diner Bowling Alley Love Shack.”
I laughed and grabbed my purse, following her down the hall.
The first thing I noticed was that the jukebox music wasn’t right. I heard Bruno Mars singing “Just The Way You Are” before we got near the room. All the lights were dimmed and candles blazed on each table, surrounded by glasses of champagne and trays of appetizers. And there, in the center of a crowd of people—Deanna, Sarah, Mel Sobel, most of the Fairfield residents I’d kissed goodbye thirty minutes ago—was Rick O’Shea coming to lead me to the tiny dance floor.
He kissed my forehead and pulled me close. “They wanted a little goodbye party. I wanted to dance with you. It worked out.”
“Well, I am truly surprised,” I whispered as Mrs. Shaddix patted my passing elbow. Across the room a few old men surrounded Deanna, who was laughing and lapping up attention as the younger temptress. “This was very sweet of y’all.”
