Susan had just turned onto her street as Mrs. Reiner was giving this wonderfully wise advice, and so Lisa signaled her to keep going. Susan drove right past the house and turned at the next corner, hoping to hear more from the back seat.
Hope fumbled with the chain for a moment, obviously stalling before responding to this very direct advice. “I do love him, Grandma. It is just that this has been a really hard year for both of us. He is under a lot of pressure because he is running for public office and has so many important engagements to juggle. He expects me to support him in all of this, and then I went against his wishes. You see, neither Michael nor his mother were in favor of me coming back here looking up my birth mother. I came anyway and ended up taking a man’s life.”
“He does understand that you had no choice, right?” Mrs. Reiner probed gently.
“Oh, he understands that,” Hope quickly admitted, “it is just that he feels if I had done what he wanted in the first place, none of this would have happened and we would be married already.”
“That is true, Hope, but look what would have happened if you had done what he wanted,” Mrs. Reiner gently reminded her.
“I know, Grandma, we all would have lost. I will never be sorry for messing up Michael’s plans because I know what I have gained. And I hope that someday he will come to understand that and embrace it as much as I do. But the problem is that it is not over and that is driving him crazy. Because the authorities are now going after former-Prosecutor Gordon, my dad and I will be called to testify at his hearing. I have no choice in the matter. Michael can’t depend on me to be there for all of his important events because we don’t even know the actual date of Gordon’s hearing. All of this business really irritates him to no end. Everything is so up in the air.”
Mrs. Reiner was not going to be dissuaded in her pursuit of information. “Doesn’t he understand the pressure all of this has caused you, Hope? I hear how it is affecting him, but does he understand that you also need support from him?”
Lisa smiled, repeating silently to herself, thank you, thank you, thank you, Mrs. Reiner.
It was quiet in the back seat for several seconds. Mrs. Reiner waited for Hope to answer her question, and Susan and Lisa remained silent in the front seat. Looking in the rear-view mirror, Susan could see that Hope was thinking about what her grandmother had asked. All three women wanted Hope to really think about this question and were all willing to wait for her answer.
Finally, it came. “To be really honest, Grandma, I’m not sure he is capable of caring about what others feel. He is the only child of very powerful people. He has been raised to believe that the world should bow to his authority and that he should always bow to his mother’s authority. If I marry him, and I am saying IF, I know Mrs. Gundersol will control our every move. I really don’t believe he is capable of standing up to her.”
“Honey, then he is not ready to get married,” Mrs. Reiner affirmed.
“I know, Grandma, but if I don’t marry him and try to help him get out from under her grasp, what will happen to him?” There it was, the real reason Hope was still in this deadly relationship.
Trying to bring this home, Mrs. Reiner asked, “Do you love him that much, Hope? Are you willing to risk losing such an important battle for Michael’s future? What if you lose? What if his mother should win yet again? Are you willing to live the rest of your life in that kind of situation? Are you willing to bring your children into a home like that?”
“No, I am not, Grandma.” Hope’s emphatic response surprised them all. “I have been trying to get him to stand up to his mother for three years now, but I doubt that he ever will. I care for him and I feel sorry for him; although he would be furious with me if he ever heard me say such a thing. He is so entrenched in his family history, so proud of being a Gundersol, he has no idea just how pathetic his life really is. He is thirty years old and still his mother rules his life, but she is not going to rule mine, not any longer.”
Mrs. Reiner smiled, and asked, “So what are you going to do now, Hope?”
“I’m not sure,” Hope confessed. “I have to handle this very carefully. He can get furious with me very quickly. He has never hurt me, but he can get very verbal. In the past I always made excuses for him, thinking it was because no one has a voice around Mrs. Gundersol. Because of this, I thought that around me he exerts his only place to show his power. I thought I was loving him by letting him act like a man with me, but I was wrong and I am not going to continue to allow it.” Then pondering for a moment, Hope shared, “Watching the men in this family treat their women with such respect, I realized how much I was giving up for him. I want someone who can care as much for me as I do for them. I want someone like Ben, Scott, or Harry who will love me and cherish me, like I see them do with my mom, Susan, and Carol Anne. I know that will never be the case with Michael so I am going to end it when I get home.”
Everyone remained quiet, wanting to allow this declaration of Hope’s to settle into a strong resolve, an unwavering commitment to action. Hope was the only one who could make this decision and the only one to carry it out. But they all knew they would be affected by that decision, or the lack of it, if she were to crumble under Michael’s pressure. Only time would tell.
Chapter 16
Before going to sleep that night, Lisa bubbled over with excitement as she filled Gladys in on what happened with Mrs. Reiner. “Gladys, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She asked Hope such direct questions, questions you and I wanted to ask. Mrs. Reiner didn’t mince any words, but was still very gracious. It was amazing that she picked up on the same things you and I did, she just had the courage to drive her questions home.”
Turning off the light, Gladys said, “Both you and Mrs. Reiner received some great gifts today. We just need to keep praying for Hope. Good night, Lisa.”
By eight o’clock the next morning everyone knew there was going to be a wedding in the house on Saturday. Susan headed over to the Thomas’ very early, while Scott called his sister, Carol Anne. “Mom and Dad are going to need my help today, Sis. You know our mom. I suspect she has already gotten Dad down in the basement, up on a ladder, going through boxes of decorations. I need to keep Dad off of ladders, and be the one carrying all the decorations up and down the stairs for him.”
“Sure,” Carol Anne responded, “bring the kids as soon as you get them loaded in the car. Harry is going to be running one or two errands, one of which is picking up a wedding gift, but then he will be home most of the day and can help me with the kids.”
“I should be able to pick up the kids before suppertime, Sis, and thanks for letting us dump them on you with such short notice.”
Just as he thought, Scott came down the basement stairs, only to find his dad high up on a ladder, reaching for a box on the very top shelf of the storage room. Not wanting to startle him, Scott waited until his dad was safely descending the ladder to begin his scolding. “Mom, I told you I would get the boxes down. Dad, you know the doctor told you not to get up on any ladders anymore. Give me that box and get down from there.”
“We just wanted to get a head start going through all these boxes,” Bill protested. “Your mother couldn’t remember which box had those beautiful white candleholders. We haven’t used them in years, but they will be perfect for a winter wedding.”
“Nevertheless, Dad,” Scott continued to scold, “none of us want you getting hurt. What kind of wedding will it be if we have to haul you down to the emergency room?”
“Caroline,” pleaded Bill, “tell your son I’m not too old to take care of my own home.”
“I’m staying out of this,” Caroline laughed. “Scott, you know there is no stopping him when there is work to be done. Bill, let Scott get the rest of the boxes down while you and I dig through these boxes. Those candleholders have to be in one of them.”
As they continued to pull out decorations, laying out the ones Caroline thought she might use, she asked, “Son, have you t
alked with Pastor Mark yet?”
“Yes, I called him even before Ben suggested this wedding to Lisa,” Scott said as he brought down another box. “Ben didn’t want to get her hopes up and then find out we couldn’t pull this off. He is set to go.”
As Caroline went through another box, she said, “Since the house is already decorated for Christmas, I can’t very well redecorate from scratch; besides, Lisa doesn’t want us to go to too much trouble. She doesn’t even want to buy a new dress for the ceremony, but Susan is going to make her. I think they are going out after breakfast. I want to hurry up and get these things arranged so I can start on the wedding cake. I need to bake the cake today so it is fully cooled and ready to decorate tomorrow morning.”
“You love all of this, don’t you, Mom?” Scott teased.
“You know she does, Son,” Bill answered for his wife, “she is in heaven, and it is extra special because it is for Lisa.”
***
Susan popped into the basement to let them know they were leaving, “Scott, Lisa and Hope are ready, so we are heading out. We won’t be more than two hours, I expect. Lisa has that beautiful linen suit Gladys made for her this year. She actually said she was considering driving all the way back home to get it, but I talked her out of it.”
“If we had thought about it a few days ago,” Scott said, “we could have had Mrs. Bascom go into Gladys’s house and overnight the suit to her.”
Susan sat down on the stairs, completely aghast, “No one has thought about Ruth Bascom,” she declared. “How could we all have overlooked her? She would be devastated if she missed Lisa’s wedding. Mom, I’m going upstairs and call her right now and invite her to Lisa’s wedding. She can bring Lisa’s suit with her.”
A few minutes later, Susan was back down. “We are all set. Mrs. Bascom is going over to Gladys’s in a few minutes to gather up Lisa’s suit, blouse and shoes. I told her she can spend the night after the wedding since Hope will be heading back to California, and Lisa will be off on her honeymoon. I knew you would not mind, Mom.”
“This is why weddings take more than three days to put together,” Caroline protested. “You just cannot remember every important detail and that detail was huge. Thank you, Scott, for saving the day.”
Scott shrugged, knowing he had not really remembered Mrs. Bascom, “So, Susan, you don’t need to go shopping now, do you?”
“Yes, Scott, Lisa still needs a few cute outfits to wear to dinner. She did not pack with her honeymoon in mind, remember?” Then realizing that Lisa had also forgotten Mrs. Bascom, Susan turned and headed upstairs to let Lisa know she would be getting married in her favorite linen suit after all and that Ruth Bascom would be in attendance.
By the time the girls got back from shopping, the cake was cooling on the baker’s rack and Caroline had drawn out the design she intended to use on the cake. Bill and Scott had made several runs to different stores gathering up special candles, food coloring, as well as mints and nuts. Bill was now at the kitchen sink washing the large crystal punch bowl and the cups that went with it; while Scott was busy down in the basement ironing his mother’s favorite linen tablecloth.
Once these tasks were completed, Bill and Scott disappeared for a few hours. They joked that they wanted to leave before Caroline thought of another job for them, but Caroline knew they had an important errand to run, so she just smiled and sent them off.
Around one o’clock, Ben and Benny arrived, having completed their own morning of shopping. “I don’t know about you, Lisa,” Ben teased, “but I am all ready for our honeymoon. If you don’t like one or two of the shirts, you can blame Benny. He insisted that I buy something not quite so generational.” Turning to Benny, he asked, “That was the term, correct?”
Benny just shook his head in fake disgust, “Getting my dad to buy new clothes is a real pain. Getting him to buy something different was almost impossible.”
Wanting everyone out of her kitchen, Caroline suggested, “Since everyone grabbed lunch while out shopping, how does a fresh pot of coffee and a plate of Christmas cookies sound? I mean, I want all of you in the living room and out of my kitchen.”
Feeling as though everything was well in hand, everyone took a seat and looked forward to a relaxing afternoon of visiting. The conversation drifted to anything other than the wedding. Once she was certain everyone was settled in for a while, Caroline slipped out and got back to her preparations, free from prying eyes. As the visiting weaved from topic to topic, Benny remembered the story Gladys had promised to tell and asked, “Gladys, now would be a good time to tell us about your brother, Charlie, wouldn’t it?”
Gladys thought about it for a moment, and then suggested, “Benny, although it isn’t all sad, it really is quite a sad tale. I’d hate to introduce such a story when we should all be focused on the happy event that is going to happen tomorrow.”
“But when will we all be together again?” Benny asked. “Hope is leaving right after the wedding, and I know she wants to hear about Charlie, don’t you, Hope?”
“Actually, I do, Gladys. If Ben and Lisa wouldn’t mind, I’d like to hear the story.”
Looking over at the wedding couple, sitting snuggled up close together on the sofa, Gladys asked, “So, do you mind a little trip down memory lane this afternoon?”
Lisa, having heard most of this story before, deferred to Ben, “Ben, would you mind hearing a story that taught me not to judge another person’s life experience? You will understand once Gladys tells it.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Ben responded, “Gladys, we are all ears.”
Gladys began at the beginning. “I had just started my senior year of high school and life was pretty good. I had a loving home, wonderful parents, two great brothers, and I felt in control of my life. I guess you’d say I was quite proud of myself. We were not religious people, but we were good people.
“Charlie was considered the golden boy by all of us. You’d think that would have given him a swelled head and made Bill and me jealous, but it didn’t. Charlie was the most loving big brother a girl could ever want. He was my protector, my counselor, my event planner, my rock. Charlie never resented me tagging along on his many errands around town. Everyone seemed to know him and like him. I remember feeling so proud when someone would ask me, ‘Aren’t you Charlie’s little sister?’ He was just one of those kinds of people that everyone wanted to have as their friend. His friends would come to our house just to hang out, but Charlie always made sure his friends treated Bill and me with respect.
“That October, Charlie was going to school full time, expecting to graduate almost a year earlier than expected because he had taken extra classes every summer. He had just gotten a new part-time job downtown and he was happier than I had ever seen him. Then, one evening, just after supper, the doorbell rang and our lives went into a tailspin. I remember Mother falling against our dad as the policeman at the door told us that Charlie was dead. At first, it would not register with me. Charlie can’t be dead, not my Charlie. I remember running up to my room because I refused to listen to anymore of these lies. It was someone else, someone else’s Charlie, not ours. My father came up to my room and I will never forget the look on his face as he told me that he needed to go down to the hospital and identify Charlie’s body and that I needed to come downstairs and sit with my mother.
“I didn’t know how I was going to get through that night; little did I know there would be so much more to get through. Several hours later our father returned home, a broken man. At first he just fell into our mother’s arms and wept uncontrollably. Bill and I just sat there watching our family dissolve right in front of us. This could not be happening to our family, not ours, but it was.
“Finally, my father gathered up enough courage to tell us what he needed to tell us. My father knew his news would destroy our mother, but because it was going to be in the morning paper, he had no choice. You see, our brother Charlie was not just dead; he was not just killed; he had been tortu
red for hours before his death. I just kept repeating, ‘who would do such a thing to our Charlie?’
“I remember vividly the pain on my father’s face as he told us about Charlie’s last hours. You see, my dad knew he would not be able to keep this horror away from us, so he wanted us to hear it from him first.
“I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to think about it. I wanted to just run, but I sat there frozen, unable to process what my father was saying. I wanted him to shut up! I kept interrupting my father with, ‘Are you sure that was our Charlie?’ or ‘You made a mistake, Dad, you must have identified the wrong person. I refused to believe that this could happen to Charlie.’
“Amidst all of her own pain, my mother pleaded with me to stop. ‘Gladys, please don’t make this harder on your father than it already is. We have to accept the fact that ‘he’ is gone.’ That night, my mother could not even say his name and ordered, ‘Please stop interrupting and let your father talk.’
“So I did. I sat there and listened to my father tell us what that horrible person had done to our Charlie, how he must have suffered, and I knew I would never be the same again. I learned that Charlie had been bound and gagged, and had three fingers cut off. I learned that while he was still alive someone cut off his left ear and jabbed a stick into his right eye. He had been burned all along his arms and legs, which the police suspect was done by a welding torch of some kind, and then finally, mercifully, they stabbed him in the heart, and he was gone.
“The police told our father that they had no idea who had done this terrible thing to our Charlie. For weeks the police followed up every lead but they all went nowhere. For months we waited for some explanation, some rational reason, something that would make sense out of all of this pain. Charlie was dead and buried, but life was not going on; everything just stopped meaning anything to me. I hardly remember my senior year of high school. I tried to just stay numb. I was long since cried out and had no more tears in me. I didn’t care about anything anymore. I was afraid to care.
Hope Returns Page 13
