“Yes, I noted that when Jeremy and Camilla married and I first met her parents. I was surprised how the Breckhart’s are short and stocky and big boned while Camilla is slim and taller. Her complexion is so fair while the Breckhart’s is ruddy and… and her hair colour doesn’t have a bit of black in it like her parents.”
“See? That’s exactly right! I am so glad Mrs. Breckhart was alive up until last year, so we could see first hand how completely different both parents are from their daughter. Camilla’s hair is as blonde as …as…Jenny’s.” Henry’s voice trailed off softly as he whispered his first love’s name.
Mary was silent for a moment. She had to admit that she came to the same conclusion. Henry broke into her train of thought again…
“And I don’t know if I ever told you, Mom, but I always thought Jenny had a baby…”
“Yes, I do recall you sharing that with me. Some boys overcame you and Jenny and took her to the park.”
“Yeah, I always had felt over the years that Jenny was raped that night and later gave birth to a child. One of Eddy’s friends, Pete was one of the guys involved and apparently he dreams of that night as well. He told Eddy that he thinks Jenny gave birth to a baby girl with blonde hair and blue eyes that he fathered. It’s all so weird. When I saw Camilla for the first time everything sort of came together for me: what Pete said, my intuition that she was raped and became pregnant, the name Camilla …and that, Camilla was Jenny’s daughter.”
“But she isn’t, Son. Camilla claims that Valerie and Stanley Breckhart are her natural parents.”
“Yes, I asked Jeremy on several occasions about Camilla’s background and he too confirms that Mr. and Mrs. Breckhart are Camilla’s parents, but it just doesn’t seem right somehow…”
“It’s true, Son, Camilla’s resemblance to Jenny is striking.” Mary said cautiously. She remembered only too well that conversation she’d had with Henry shortly after Julean’s death when Henry told her of his love for Jenny, how Julean knew everything, and how even after knowing all that, Mary still had opted not to share Jenny’s letter with Henry.
“And to think, it turns out that it’s not Jenny who Camilla is related to, but Julean!”
“Did I hear you correctly? Did you say Camilla is related to our Julean, your wife!?”
“You heard me correctly alright, Mom. Before Camilla and Jeremy got married I talked to Stan about his family background and nationality. I couldn’t believe it when he told me that his great-grandparents were Mormon. Apparently there was quite a ruckus over the multiple marriages of their founder, Joseph Smith. I recall Julean telling me about that, too. I think it was in the late 1800’s that the practice of multiple marriages was banned and the community started to split up. Stan’s great-grandparents were the first to move away from the Utah community to go on their own. Apparently Stan’s great-grandparents moved to Cardston, Alberta, where Julean’s parents were from, where they raised six boys. I can’t remember the exact details anymore but I think Stan was an offspring from one of the six boys. I’ll have to ask Camilla how they eventually got to Ottawa.”
“That sounds interesting, Son but it doesn’t really give any clue as to why there is such a dramatic difference between them and their daughter nor does it explain how Julean could possibly be related to Camilla!”
“That’s exactly what I was leading up to, Mom. The Breckhart’s are related to Julean’s Aunt Netta and Uncle Jacob. Seems to me Stan said they were the third or fourth distant cousins and I suppose if we go back enough, Julean would also be related to Camilla somehow.”
Henry was silent for a long moment and spoke in such a soft voice, Mary strained to hear what he said.
“And I was just thinking, Mom, about Camilla and Julean and Jenny and how crazy it all seems. Even though I know that Camilla isn’t Jenny’s daughter and that she’s a long-lost relative of Julean’s, it still just blows me away that Camilla came into our lives, married Jeremy and indirectly became my daughter! It’s all very strange…supernatural…”
“Oh my, Henry it is quite something and, you’re right …it would have been even more so had Camilla proved to be…Jenny’s daughter…” Mary’s words trailed off again revealing that she too still had some doubts about Camilla’s upbringing and past.
Henry knew what his mother had in mind.
“I know, Mom. The resemblance is uncanny and her background fits into so many things that happened in the past. Jenny said that she would call her first daughter, Camilla. And… and if we calculate back from Camilla’s present age, she would have been born in 1957 the exact year that Jenny would have given birth had she been raped and impregnated and…it was also the time I always had such severe stomach aches which all of sudden stopped that spring. It’s so uncanny and yet if the Breckharts are Camilla’s parents then something extremely coincidental has happened. In fact, Mom, there are just too many coincidences for this all to be a coincidence…if you know what I mean.”
The phone went silent for a moment before Mary came up with something positive that could come out of all this…
“Well even so, Son, if Camilla can’t be Jenny’s daughter then at least she is related to Julean in the distant past which makes us all family somehow.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, Mom. It’s what makes life so interesting. One just never knows what life is going to toss at you next…”
“Yes, Son,”
This time it was Mary who changed the subject. “I am so looking forward to have everyone come for dinner Sunday night. Are you picking up Father on the way or is Jeremy?”
“No, I am picking him up. And yeah, it will be great to have all of us together. Soon the kids will be moving out and going on their own and these special times will become less and less.”
“Yes, it brings tears to my eyes just to think on it. I hate to see Allison move to Radway, Alberta this fall but her choice of career is so worthy.”
“That’s right. She struggled with her faith when Julean died. She was so angry with God. Yet, she got over it and is attending the bible college there. I wonder where this will lead to?”
“It’s up to the Lord. I’m sure she is following the plan that He wills for her life.”
“Well, Mom, I better go. I haven’t had breakfast yet and I want to take the dogs for a run in the valley later.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you have taken a day off! You work far too much, son. Ever since that dear wife of yours passed away you’ve immersed yourself much too much in all the things you do.”
“Yeah, I know you’re right, yet it’s just my nature to have four or five things on the go.”
“Well, take the time to enjoy and appreciate all you have been blessed with. Just the sight of the valley with the prayer house and wildflower meadow surrounding it takes my breath away. And yes, I better run too and let you enjoy your day off.”
“Bye, Mom, love you.”
“And I love you too, Son.”
Mary held the phone for a long time as her mind swirled over the conversation with Henry. She knew that she had to give Jenny’s letter to Henry. She held back for the longest time over her concern that Jenny was married and it would all be for naught anyway… It would only upset Henry, and yet Mary’s guilt and the glowing light around her treasure chest was simply not going away, but getting stronger by the day.
If she was ever going to have peace, Mary knew she must be truthful with her son, regardless of the circumstances. Oh, but now he has met a new lady friend… It may be healing for Henry to start his life again. What good could it bring to give him Jenny’s letter now …?
Mary felt confused and more guilt-ridden than ever. She hung up the phone still thinking what would have happened if she had given Jenny’s letter to Henry just before he and Julean married? Where would destiny have led everyone to this day? Would Julean have wed another? Would she be alive today?
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Oh, my dear sweet Jesus, I have played God for all too long. I have tried to do what was best for all, but…please, Oh dear Lord, give me the wisdom and strength to do what is best. Forgive me, Lord.
Chapter Four
Henry slowly hung up the phone his mind still so focused and preoccupied on the possibility that Camilla was Jenny’s daughter. An eerie feeling crawled up and down his spine.
“What do you make of all this Julean? And what about Ivania, where does she fit in?” Henry silently muttered as he made his way into the sun-room and gazed out of the window into the valley below.
Henry mulled over the interview he had with Brenda. He wondered when the article would come out. Since he lived out of town on an acreage near Lumsden, the Sunday Sun would not be delivered to their place. He’d have to keep an eye out for it. He hoped Brenda would mention Julean’s name in the article and how she had helped out in the gallery when it first opened.
It was hard to believe that his dear sweet wife had passed away over three years ago. It seemed like yesterday; his feelings for her were still so deep and strong. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out Julean’s rosary and his hand automatically fingered one crystal bead and then another. It was her last gift to him. Henry still marvelled how easily her fingers opened, giving him her rosary, her most treasured possession, as she lay there in the coffin. He was glad that he had accepted her gift as it always gave him solace. At times he felt certain he could feel the warmth and comfort of her hands emanating off of it.
He carried the rosary with him every day, and at night before he undressed he would take the rosary out of his pocket and toss it on the bed. Upon retiring, Henry would pray the rosary again and dream that he was snuggled up to her with his arm around her, his fingers intertwined in hers. Some nights the aching and longing for Julean was so intense, Henry would cry himself to sleep.
Those first hours, days and months were so difficult without his dear sweet wife at his side. It was a good thing Father Engelmann was there to help him through. He always seemed to be there like an angel ready to help, minister and console.
Father was there for Henry when Jenny left, too. Incredibly, his feelings for Jenny had never left him over all those years. He was thankful that Julean was so understanding of the memories he held of his first love. Hours before her death, she even encouraged him to seek Jenny out and said she would help him. Her words stayed with him to this day, “When I get to heaven I will pray for her or someone else like her to return to you. A man like you should marry again and not be alone.”
Henry believed that it was possible for Julean’s spirit to guide him in the same way he believed in the guidance, promptings and protection of his guardian angel. He recalled when he was at the cemetery shortly after her death how she had appeared beside John McBryne and helped him to forgive the very man that caused her death. And for months now his feelings for Jenny seemed to have been strengthening along with the star of the east that he and Jenny shared.
He wouldn’t have been aware of the star had he not seen the spirit of Julean standing on the deck of his farmhouse outside of the sun-room earlier that past spring. He remembered feeling prompted to make a cup of tea and as he passed the patio doors, he looked out and there was Julean, gazing towards the eastern sky. He rushed outside, but Julean disappeared, leaving in her wake the brilliance of the star of the east which immediately touched his heart.
He felt Jenny.
The love radiating from the star was unmistakable. It was like feeling Jenny standing next to him. Well over twenty years had elapsed since he had felt those wonderful feelings of his first love.
And just this past July 6th, the anniversary day he and Jenny had met, his dreams of Jenny were so vivid and real. He even woke up to catch himself calling out to her early that morning. How difficult it must have been for Julean to hear him whisper loving thoughts to another in his dreams.
But that night as well, the evening of their anniversary, Henry made a point of looking to the east at twilight and sure enough, the first star of the east shone in all its glory. There was no mistaking it; the star’s warm rays of love penetrating his heart were Jenny’s.
Henry was filled with hope, yet did it really have any significance? Was his dear sweet wife leading him back to Jenny or was it to another?
Henry had first noticed Ivania shortly after he opened the gallery and café. Julean was still alive at the time and on several occasions he noticed her briefly chatting with Ivania when she paid her lunch bill at the cashier’s station. One day however, Ivania was not there for lunch but for business purposes. She came into the gallery and presented Henry with her business card along with a short description of her occupation.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Pederson, my name is Ivania Gorbachov.” She presented Henry with her business card and continued, “I’m a financial advisor and estate planner. I would very much like to meet with you and Mrs. Pederson to discuss your long term plans …”
Henry recalled he didn’t much listen or pay attention to the rest of her spiel but had to admit that her accent and stunning facial features captivated him. He had seen her in the café many times and only exchanged greetings. But that day Henry could see that the woman wearing a two piece banker grey suit standing across the counter from him was a very intelligent, sophisticated and attractive lady in her thirties.
Her hair was neat, tightly combed from the front of her forehead to the back and coming together into an impeccably curved bun. What interested Henry was the streak of blonde that was nestled into her dark brown hair just off centre to the left side of her head. It was odd and yet striking…It drew one’s attention.
But what captivated his interest even more was her European accent. He recalled Julean telling him that Ivania came from Russia when she was just seven years old. But even though Ivania had grown up in Canada her spoken English retained a light Russian articulation that was clearly evident when she said certain words. Henry suspected that it was purposeful; that Ivania was aware that it made her more attractive and intriguing somehow.
Perhaps what affected Henry most powerfully was when Ivania spoke his name. It was then that her light Russian accent turned heavy. She pronounced his name with a “d” just in front of the “r”… Hen-dry. Henry liked the sound and whenever she spoke his name it sent a tingle through him.
Ivania’s Russian background together with her stunning figure and attractiveness always brought a sense of intrigue into Henry’s mind every time he saw her in the restaurant. Often times as he studied her he thought that Ivania would make the perfect spy. She would be able to lure even the most cautious politician into a scandalous affair.
Despite Henry’s intrigue with Ivania, their relationship was always on a business and professional level. Even after Julean passed away. One day however, that all seemed to change when Ivania came into the restaurant on her day off. It was a busy lunch time rush, and Henry was assisting the hostess in seating customers who were waiting in line. Suddenly Ivania appeared before him and Henry barely recognized her! She was wearing a bright yellow and green summer dress, as opposed to her usual business suit attire. Her hair, usually pulled back quite severely, albeit strikingly, was now down and flowing well beyond her shoulders. The blond streak in her hair had expanded at least three to four inches and drew even more attention to her strong attractive features.
Henry was momentarily speechless, frozen in the moment.
Standing before him was another side of Ivania that he had never envisioned! It was like seeing another woman altogether and … Something within him stirred. He never thought another woman besides Jenny or Julean could ever excite him… But he was wrong.
“Is that you, Ivania?” Henry asked, with total surprise in his gawking eyes.
“Yes, Hen-dry, it is me, Ivania. I do let my hair down on occasion.”
Henry chuckled nervously. In a way,
Ivania’s brown hair with the blonde streak reminded Henry of both Jenny and Julean. Ivania captured both of his loves. He could see Jenny’s blonde wheat coloured hair softly nestled in the brown colour of his dear wife’s hair.
“Well, are you going to show me to a seat in your café Hen-dry or must I do it myself?”
“Yes, yes, of course…It’s just that I have never seen this side of you Ivania and I must say… it’s very nice!”
Not often did Ivania blush at the words of a man, but at that moment her luminous white skin revealed a hint of pink, as she cast her eyes uncharacteristically downward.
Henry showed Ivania to a table beside a window and felt compelled to join her. He fingered Julean’s rosary in his pocket as if to ask his dear wife permission to do so. It was an awkward moment but Henry sensed Ivania wouldn’t mind. Her soft, dark hazel eyes seemed to welcome him.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” Henry asked coolly, feeling a little silly at his teenager approach.
“No, I would love for you to. Please Hen-dry, by all means, sit.”
Henry sat opposite her beside the south window. As the sun streamed in and struck Ivania’s face, Henry was reminded of Anna Engelmann, reading the bible by the south window in their living quarters above the store. There was a similar elegance and sophistication about Ivania that was hard to pin point.
Was it the way she held her head and wore her hair up like Anna did, Henry analyzed? Or was it her graceful stance and the way she moved her arms? Then again, perhaps it was all of those things… Henry was surprised how much he had already taken notice of this particular patron.
Ivania smiled, waiting for Henry to speak but Henry just blushed; he was so out of practice speaking to a woman for whom he had feelings, he was unable to come up with that first line. And then Ivania, just like Jenny would have, naturally started up the conversation.
The Angelic Occurrence Page 6
