Backstage Beatrice silently squeezed Gabrielle’s hand in a show of support as Felicia continued to read.
“ ‘For me and millions of others in this country, the education system broke down. We slipped through the cracks. We learned to survive in this world of words by taking advantage of our special talents. We get through life manipulating others into doing what all literate people can do for themselves—read a recipe, fill out a job application, understand a bus schedule, or write a letter to someone we love.
“ ‘Unless you have been there, you can’t know what it is like to live as an illiterate. Imagine being a fugitive on the lam, where not a day goes by that you don’t worry about getting caught. Imagine being labeled lazy, a quitter, a failure—not because you’re stupid, but because you’re too ashamed to admit you can’t read, too ashamed to ask for help. Imagine being constantly on your guard, able to relax fully only at night, just before you fall asleep. Imagine that your evening prayer is always the same, “Thank God I made it through another day without being found out.”
“ ‘But keeping such a secret takes its toll. In so many ways my life has been a lie and I, a fraud. I am tired of pretending. I am tired of hiding. This afternoon I begin living the truth, so tonight my prayer can be different.
“ ‘Throughout these past few years, I have come to appreciate and rely on your kindness and support. Now I need your understanding. Please help me, and those that follow, to get over our embarrassment and shame so we are free to learn. Please don’t taunt us. Teach us. Thank you.’
“Ladies and gentlemen, Gabrielle Donovan,” Felicia announced, discreetly wiping away her tears. As Gabrielle walked to the podium, the auditorium remained quiet, shocked into silence by this amazing admission. Everybody in the room was trying to digest and put into perspective what they’d heard. From the rear of the auditorium, Doug, tears in his eyes, began to applaud, an action that was replicated by the rest of the room.
Led by Greg von Ulrich, the members of the audience, one by one, rose from their seats, giving Gabrielle a standing ovation. She stood, basking in the glow of their acceptance, grateful for the love and support. She felt as if the entire world had been lifted off her shoulders. She was no longer ashamed. She was free, and it felt wonderful.
“Thank you,” she said softly into the microphone. “I’d be happy to answer your questions.” The auditorium erupted into a collage of reporters’ voices shouting out questions. Felicia stepped to the mike in an effort to control the chaos.
“Please, one at a time,” she requested as she pointed to a reporter in the front row.
“How have you managed to hide this for so long?”
“I learned very early to trust my instincts and to invent new solutions to problems. Most of all, I learned how to get others to help me do what I needed done.”
“Can you give us an example?”
“To avoid being found out, you learn to be creative. On buses and trains I memorized the number of stops between my home and my usual destinations, or asked the bus driver to tell me where to get off. I grocery-shopped by looking at the pictures on the labels. If I got sick and needed medication, I memorized the doctor’s instructions and then color-coded my medicine bottles so I knew which was which. When I had to fill out forms, I’d bandage my hand and ask a stranger for help. There are a million tricks,” Gabrielle told her audience.
“You’re considered one of the most successful young businesswomen in your industry. How can you be so smart and not know how to read and write?”
“Intelligence and illiteracy are not synonymous. Because I can’t read, I find other ways to educate myself. I learn a lot by being a good listener. I listen to radio shows and to books on tape. I learn by watching TV and going to the movies. I build my vocabulary by listening to people speak and then learning the words I didn’t know.”
“Have you ever tried to learn to read?”
“Several times, but something always got in the way. Either I moved, or my tutor left, and then I got too recognizable. It’s not easy hiding something like literacy lessons when you live in a fishbowl.”
“Gabrielle, why are you going public with this?”
“Because I’m tired of pretending. Because I’m hoping that by my going public, others like me will be encouraged to seek help as well. But the most important reason is my daughter. For Kylie’s sake, it’s time for me to learn to read.”
Stephanie burst through the auditorium doors just in time to hear Gabrielle’s comment. It was immediately clear that the press conference had been going on for quite a while. She stood in the middle of the aisle and looked at her watch; it was 1:53. She was sure her secretary had said that the press conference began at two.
Felicia saw Stephanie step through the double doors. Following Gabrielle’s last answer, she walked back up to the podium and addressed the audience. “I know this is a lot to digest, and you must have a million questions, but in the interest of time we’ll move on. There are press packets available for you on your way out. They contain a copy of Gabrielle’s statement and a more in-depth press release. Those of you who wish to talk with Gabrielle further may contact my office. Right now, we have one last announcement to make.”
“I should have brought two notepads,” quipped a reporter in the front row.
“We are well aware that today’s revelations and events in the recent past have raised a great deal of public interest in the entirety of Gabrielle’s life. For this reason, Gabrielle has decided to coauthor her biography,” Felicia told the audience.
Stephanie stood in the middle aisle bursting with anticipation. Finally her moment to stand in the spotlight had arrived. Out of the corner of her eye, Stephanie saw Doug Sixsmith standing toward the front. Step aside, Dougie, your competition has arrived.
“I’d like to introduce you to the coauthor of the Gabrielle Donovan story, a writer whose work is synonymous with integrity and truth …”
Felicia is really laying it on thick, Stephanie thought as she began her way to the stage. She quickly ran through her remarks, not wanting to stumble when she got to the podium. She was about to ascend the stage stairs when the bomb dropped.
“… Mr. Doug Sixsmith.”
With one foot on the bottom stair, Stephanie stopped in her tracks. The smile on her face quickly metamorphosed into a horrific grin. What the fuck is going on here? As Doug climbed onto the stage and approached the microphone, Stephanie realized that she’d been double-crossed. They’d set her up. They won’t get away with this, she promised herself as she turned on her heels and slipped out the side door.
Gabrielle stood on the stage, just as shocked as Stephanie. Who had decided that Doug would write her book, and why hadn’t it been discussed with her? If she had been consulted, Gabrielle would have told them in no uncertain terms that Doug Sixsmith would be the last person she’d consent to write her biogrpahy.
“Doug, John Newman from Time. Will this book be a tell-all?”
“It’s too early to say what it’s going to be, but I can say what it won’t be,” Doug answered. “It won’t be a trashy, name-dropping, mudslinging exposé.”
“Gabrielle, how do you feel about working with your ex-boyfriend on such a personal project?” a reporter from the National Enquirer asked.
“He’s a great writer. Isn’t that all that counts?” Gabrielle commented graciously, avoiding Doug’s eyes. “Doug and Felicia will be happy to answer the rest of your questions, but I’m afraid I have to go to my daughter now. Thank you all very much.”
While Doug and Felicia remained at the podium, Beatrice and Lois joined Gabrielle, and together they walked to her room. “Why didn’t someone let me in on the surprise?” Gabrielle asked.
“We weren’t sure until the last minute whether Doug would agree to do it,” Beatrice explained.
“Did you see the expression on Stephanie’s face when Felicia announced Doug’s name?” Lois laughed. “She looked like the Joker from Batman.” The trio walk
ed into Gabrielle’s room, only to find Stephanie sitting in wait.
“I can’t believe that you all were stupid enough to try and stick it to me like that. You know what this means, don’t you?” Stephanie asked the group.
“Let’s just cut to the chase and have you tell us,” Lois replied smartly.
“It means I’m still writing this book and everybody’s secrets get spilled.”
“Sorry, Stephanie. There’s nothing you can hold over our heads anymore. In case you missed it, Gabrielle just made a public announcement about her illiteracy,” Bea said smugly.
“And Felicia has already dealt with Trace and Lexis,” Lois piped up, “so it looks like your game of blackmail is finished.”
“It ain’t over until the fat lady sings, and that means you, Beatrice. I think it’s time these two heard your song. Why don’t you share your juicy secret with Gabrielle?” Stephanie asked. All eyes turned to Beatrice, who felt herself growing first terribly agitated and then totally calm.
“Why don’t you go first? I hear you have a few secrets of your own,” Bea challenged, looking directly into Stephanie’s eyes with a steely stare. Stephanie was caught off guard. What was Bea talking about? Did she know about Killington? “Why don’t you tell us how you manage to make everyone’s life miserable under two personas,” Bea continued.
Stephanie tried to keep her relief in check. Apparently Henny Penny had figured out that she was Visa Lee. Who gave a rat’s ass about that now? She was almost through with that gig anyway. Once this book came out, she would be too busy with her new career to continue. “Don’t tell me you’re a fan of ‘The Visa Lee Report’?”
“Not hardly. I don’t covet trash in any form.”
“You’re Visa Lee?” Gabrielle gasped. “You’re the one who’s been writing all those terrible things about me?”
“Guilty as charged. And I sincerely want to thank you for your cooperation. Thanks to you, my column has developed quite a following.”
“Do you know what your lies did to me? To my life, you lying, scheming, ungrateful bitch?”
“I’m the ungrateful bitch? You should be thanking me for keeping your name in the headlines.”
“Thanks for nothing.”
“Nothing? Your life is the fucking fairy tale it is because of me. Do you know how it felt to see you marry the one man I loved, knowing that I introduced you? Or every day watching you rise to the top, knowing that I was the one who made it all possible? All I asked was for a little help in return, and what do you do? Stab me in the back. So don’t talk to me about being ungrateful and dishonest, you sanctimonious bitch. We had an agreement, and you welched on it.”
“This was all done without my knowledge, but now that it’s happened, I think it was a damn good idea. You’re the one living the fairy tale if you think for one second that you’re going to write my biography,” Gabrielle argued back.
“Don’t be so sure about that. You haven’t heard the last from me. Not by a long shot,” Stephanie promised. “And before you blame me for all your misery and heartache, talk to your personal assistant over there. Ask her how she ‘personally assisted’ Doug Sixsmith out of your life,” she said, throwing the words into Gabrielle’s face before storming out of the room.
Stephanie’s inference dropped a grenade in their midst, releasing a foggy silence into the room. Realizing that Beatrice and Gabrielle needed privacy to maneuver through this emotional minefield, Lois headed out the door in search of Felicia.
Both women, tentative about delving into the truth, set Stephanie’s accusation aside for the moment. Bea turned to look at Gabrielle. She could see confusion in the girl’s eyes. It was time to level with her about the letter. “Honey, why don’t you get in bed? It’s been a rough afternoon.”
“I can’t believe the nerve of that woman. After everything she’s done to me to try and destroy my reputation, she has the audacity to feel betrayed.”
“I know Doug will do a great job—” Bea said.
“What on earth possessed you and Felicia to think that I could ever work with Doug Sixsmith? Despite what I just said to Stephanie, I have no intention of writing my grocery list, let alone my life story, with that man,” Gabrielle said, her anger becoming apparent.
“Don’t be so hard on him, Gabrielle. Doug just found out you were illiterate yesterday when I told him.”
“Don’t lie for him. He told me to my face that he read my letter.”
“He read a letter, but it wasn’t the one you thought you sent. I’m ashamed to admit this, but I wrote a different letter, one telling him to stay out of your life. I also never gave you the note he wrote in return or told you about his phone calls,” Bea said softly. Gabrielle sat silently for a moment, stunned by Beatrice’s admission.
“What did his letter say?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t read it.”
“Where is it?”
“Stephanie has it. She spent the night over at my place recently and found it while going through my things.”
“First you stole the letter, then Stephanie. And here I thought you were both on my side,” Gabrielle said angrily.
“I am on your side. I was trying to protect you. I love you like you’re my own daughter.”
“My mother would have never done anything like this to me.”
“Gabrielle, please. I’m so dreadfully sorry for interfering.”
“You did more than interfere. You nearly destroyed my life, and because of you Jack is dead,” Gabrielle accused her angrily.
“How can you blame me for Jack’s death?” Bea was shocked by her allegation.
“He’d be alive today because we would have never gone to Vermont together in the first place.”
“Gabrielle, whatever I did, I did out of love,” Bea pleaded, begging for understanding.
Gabrielle’s voice turned cold. “Your kind of love I don’t need.”
The women were interrupted by a soft tap on the door. The nurse entered, pushing Kylie in the isolette. “Here’s your roommate,” she announced.
“Thanks, Velma,” Gabrielle said as she got off the bed to check on her sleeping daughter. Conversation between the women ceased until the nurse left the room.
“Gabrielle, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you or Kylie. You have to know that. I love you both, and I want to take care of you.”
“I put my life in your hands. I will not make the same mistake with my daughter’s.”
“Don’t say that. I know you love me, too.”
“I can’t love someone I don’t trust,” Gabrielle said, recycling the very words that Doug had said to her. “I want you to go, and I don’t want to see you again,” Gabrielle said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Don’t do this, please, honey. All I have is you and the baby,” Bea pleaded.
“Not anymore,” Gabrielle said and turned away.
Beatrice took one last look at Gabrielle and Kylie before leaving the room. She wandered down the corridor toward the elevator in a daze. Bea was shattered, but she had no one to blame but herself. If she had only trusted Gabrielle to have enough love in her heart for both of them, she’d still have her family. Instead, she was alone.
The elevator doors opened and Beatrice stepped forward, barreling into Doug Sixsmith. The contact caused her to drop her leather patchwork handbag. Bea’s wallet, eyeglass case, prescription medicine, and several loose coins spilled out across the corridor floor. Doug reached down and gathered up Beatrice’s belongings, put them back in her purse, and handed the bag to the distraught woman. As she burst into heart-wrenching sobs, Doug put his arms around Beatrice and led her over to a nearby bench.
“I’ve ruined everything,” she sobbed.
“You told her the truth?”
“Yes. She said she never wants to see me again.”
“She’s been through a lot lately. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”
“She has every right to hate me. I hate myself for all the
pain I’ve caused her.”
“We’ve both hurt her, and it’s going to take time for her to sort her feelings out.”
“You don’t understand. I did much more than just keep you two apart. I stole her independence.”
“What are you talking about?” Doug asked.
“I was the only person in this entire world who knew that Gabrielle was illiterate, but did I do anything to change that? No. I helped her come up with a thousand different reasons why she shouldn’t get tutoring, but I had only one reason—I was afraid that if she learned to read, she wouldn’t need me anymore.”
“You had to have helped her somehow,” Doug said, trying to comprehend the magnitude of Bea’s actions.
“She tried those phonetic learning tapes once. At first she did very well. She got excited, and I got frightened, so when she started having trouble, I made her feel comfortable about quitting.”
“Of course she was excited,” Doug said. “Imagine you were paralyzed and then one day you felt this twinge in your legs. The doctor tells you that soon you’ll be able to walk without the crutches you’ve become so dependent on. Suddenly you realize that a whole new world is about to open up for you.”
“But that’s the part that scared me. I was her crutch. Once she could read and function on her own, why on earth would she still need me?”
“That’s a chance we’re both going to have to take,” Doug told her.
“Will you talk to her? Will you try to make her see how much I love her?”
“I’ll do what I can, but I’m not sure she wants to have much to do with me either.”
Gabrielle heard a faint tap on her door, but offered no acknowledgment. She wanted to be alone to sort through her emotions. Beatrice’s bombshell had left her feeling angry and betrayed. How could Bea watch her suffer, knowing full well that she could stop her pain at any time? And poor Jack. Would he still be alive had Beatrice been honest and forthcoming? Gabrielle wasn’t sure she would ever forgive Bea.
“Gabrielle?” a voice that made her heart skip called out. Gabrielle looked to the door and saw Doug, holding a bunch of purple irises, enter her room. The sight made her smile and brought fresh tears to her eyes.
Read Between the Lies Page 41
