Dandelion Summer

by Mary Ellen Bramwell

“Because he’ll either want to rush home right away before his training is done, or he’ll be worried and stressed about us—only unable to do anything about it. That will make it even worse for him.”

  “I have an idea,” Madelyn said quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it. Why don’t you tell him about reading, and then tell him how Mrs. Burnham became Aunt Dory? Tell him we have family we didn’t even know we had—right here. And that there have been unexpected challenges, ones we’ll tell him all about once he’s back, but that we’re good right now because of family.”

  It was a toss-up who would hug her first, Mom or Aunt Dory. “I think that’s a perfect idea. Thank you, Madelyn,” Mom said.

  . . .

  Despite the trauma they had so recently been through, the excitement of telling Dad about Mom and all she was accomplishing took over. It felt like Christmas Eve waiting until they could get Dad on the phone. Aunt Dory had three phone extensions in her house, so it was agreed that Jillian and Madelyn would listen in on one together, while Daniel and Mom took the other two.

  The phone rang twice before Dad picked it up. Then the four of them tried to say “hi” all at the same time.

  “Whoa! How did I get so lucky to get all of you at once?”

  Much as each of them wanted to blurt everything out, they had agreed to let Mom be the one to speak. “Honey, I hope you’re sitting down.”

  “Yes, I am,” he said hesitantly.

  “Well, I wanted to tell you about the way things have been going lately with you being gone. We’ve been learning a lot from each other. The kids have been great. Madelyn has really stepped up to the plate. Today she even started reading a book to all of us. It’s kind of fun.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “And I’ve been reading books to Jilly, and sometimes the others.”

  “Good.”

  “No. I don’t think you understand. I’ve been reading new books to the kids.”

  “You mean …”

  “Yes, books other than those three.”

  There was complete silence on the other end. Then they heard a sound they’d never heard before. Dad was weeping, weeping for all he was worth. He tried a few times to form words but failed, collapsing into sounds of sobbing.

  Madelyn and Jillian quietly hung up then went to find Daniel. When he saw them, he hung up too.

  Forty-five minutes later, Mom found them playing board games with Aunt Dory. Her face was shimmering—wet with tear stains and completely aglow. She went around the table, in turn hugging each of them. It was more than words could have expressed.

  Monday

  Madelyn and her mom were just walking out the door to visit Grandpa when Daniel passed by. “Where are you going?” He was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

  Mom opened her mouth to offer a quick explanation then stopped herself. Instead, she turned around and crouched down so she could look Daniel in the eye. “Madelyn and I are trying to figure out what’s going on around here. So, we’re off to visit your grandpa. Daniel, he’s in prison. I’m sorry the truth of it isn’t pretty, but I suppose it’s time you knew.”

  His eyes grew big, but he said nothing.

  “He’s in prison?” It was Jillian. No one had noticed her figure down the hall by the entrance to the kitchen.

  Mom straightened up so she could see her youngest. “Yes, Jilly. He is. I didn’t think you would want to know, but …” She shrugged her shoulders. “You’d find out soon enough.”

  Jillian ran down the hall and hugged Mom. Daniel, needing the same comfort and unwilling to wait his turn, reached over and surprised Madelyn with a big squeeze around her middle.

  Aunt Dory came across the scene a minute later. “Oh, so that’s where you all got to. I’m guessing these aren’t happy hugs?” she said, noting the somber mood.

  “Mom just told us Grandpa’s in prison. I’ve never known anyone in prison before,” Daniel said.

  “Well, now you do. It’s not something to brag about, but it’s not something to be ashamed of either,” Aunt Dory said. “You can’t make choices for someone else, but you can make choices for yourself. And despite everything, I’m sure your grandpa loves you.”

  “Thank you,” Mom mouthed to her.

  “Now, get along you two,” Aunt Dory said, “We’ve got some breakfast waiting for us in the kitchen. I made fresh pancakes.” And just like that, Jillian and Daniel were smiling, racing down the hallway to the kitchen, and Mom and Madelyn were heading out the doorway.

  . . .

  Visiting the inside of the prison was a new experience for Madelyn. Being in the outer office a few days before didn’t even compare to walking down the concrete hallway to the visitor’s room. What stood out to her was how loud it was—no background music to cushion the sharpness and starkness that surrounded them, just one long metallic, icy sound and sensation after another. Even her mouth was awash with the iron-steel taste, just like the taste of a bloody lip.

  Most of the people filing in for visiting day were adults. Even though Madelyn was on the list, the man checking them in was hesitant to let her in. Mom straightened her back, looked him square in the face, and said, “This is his oldest granddaughter. He hasn’t seen her, nor she him in some time. You’re not actually suggesting they be kept from each other, are you?”

  For a man working in the toughened environment of a prison, his reaction wasn’t what they’d expected. He apologized and gave them no further trouble. When Madelyn peered into the faces of the other visitors, however, she understood better. They were the type he must normally deal with. Beaten, discouraged, tired, and defeated described every one of them—until the prisoner they were waiting for arrived through the far door, progressing toward the plexiglass partition. Then smiles formed on their faces—only they weren’t fooling anyone that their supposed happiness was genuine.

  Madelyn was so busy watching the people around her that she missed seeing Grandpa come through that same door. Her back was turned to him until she noticed that same fake smile paste itself on her mother’s face. She turned, and they saw each other at the same moment. His shock mirrored her own.

  He had aged and not in a gracious way. His hair, what little was left now, was grayer than before, his eyes sunken and lifeless, his walk a hesitant shuffle. He grabbed the back of the chair that was placed in front of the plexiglass with an iron grip. Snatching the phone with his free hand, he spoke through gritted teeth to Mom while never taking his eyes off Madelyn. “Why is she here?” His words came to Madelyn’s ears cold and harsh through the receiver Mom was clutching with both hands. Madelyn’s stomach sank, and she felt like she was about to lose her breakfast.

  “Pop –”

  He turned at the sound of Mom’s voice. “She shouldn’t see me like this. I thought we agreed the kids would never know. Why did you bring her?”

  “She’s old enough to know the truth. Maybe she wasn’t a few months ago, but she’s shown herself to be worthy of our trust—of our honesty.” She stared him down while he seemed to decide what to do. Eventually, he dropped into the chair, still gripping the phone in his hand as if it was a crutch.

  “Okay,” he said, but he refused to look at Madelyn again. “Thanks for coming, Rachel. I wanted to see you, but … but I understood why you didn’t come.”

  Mom nodded and placed her free hand on the glass, fighting to hold back the tears. Grandpa was slow to respond, but eventually, he brought his hand up to match hers on the other side. “Why now? Why did you come?”

  “Your last letter. I didn’t read the first one, not until a couple days ago. I’m sorry. I …” She glanced at Madelyn who could see the question written across her
face. Do I tell him why I didn’t—couldn’t—read it earlier? Madelyn simply shrugged her shoulders in response, knowing it was Mom’s history, Mom’s decision whether to share or not. Mom fiddled nervously, peering down at her shoes, stalling. With a sigh, she said, “Anyway, I’m here now, and it is good to see you, Pop.”

  He nodded his acknowledgment then his voice cracked as he said, “It’s good to see you too, Rachel. I’ve always depended on you.”

  “I know,” Mom said. Madelyn reached over to squeeze her hand, knowing now how that view of her mother had been a double-edged sword. Mom glanced up to give her a knowing smile before continuing. “So, Pop, what did you need me to do? What’s the loose end you mentioned?”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I should have told you about it sooner, but everything got so complicated.” His head dropped in shame, seemingly reluctant to share the reason he’d summoned Mom in the first place.

  “What is it?” Mom prompted. “What do you need returned?”

  He was starting to form words when Madelyn said, “Was it the same thing you showed your neighbor, Mr. Holliwell?”

  His head came up sharply, “What did you say?”

  Madelyn took the receiver and repeated, “Was it the same thing you showed Mr. Holliwell?”

  “How did you know about that?”

  Madelyn realized her mistake and handed the receiver back to Mom as if it were a snake about to strike. “Well, something strange has been going on. So, we … uh, we, started asking around. Lydia, I understand, said you showed George something,” Mom said.

  Grandpa’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean strange?”

  Mom and Madelyn looked at each other. “There was a break-in at your house,” Mom finally said, and Madelyn nodded, understanding that wouldn’t sound as bad as the two intruders at their own home.

  Instead of responding, Grandpa dropped the phone and put his head in his hands and began to shake his head back and forth. “Pop? Pop, what is it?”

  He picked up the phone again, “When was the break-in? What was taken?”

  Mom was slightly taken aback. “Last month. We couldn’t find anything missing, but the place was pretty trashed—furniture turned over, closets ripped apart, that kind of thing.”

  “No, oh no. It couldn’t be. I was afraid this might happen, but I don’t know how …” He was agitated and talking to himself.

  “Pop. I’m sorry. It wasn’t that bad. I think it was just a neighborhood thing. The Holliwell’s house was broken into too.”

  At that, he suddenly sat up, terror masking his face. “George’s house? Was Lydia hurt?”

  “No, she was fine, a little shaken up, but otherwise okay. It’s really nothing to worry about. So, what was with the letter? What did you want me to do?”

  “No, no, nothing now. You don’t need any more trouble. I wanted you to help, but I’ll figure it out on my own. Just … nothing, do nothing.”

  “What are you talking about? It’s no trouble. I’ll help in whatever way I can. Just tell me what you need.”

  “No!” His tone startled both of them. “I don’t need anything.” He regained his composure before continuing. “Now, why don’t we enjoy our visit. How’s your family doing? How’s Tommy?”

  “But Grandpa, we already are involved. Just tell us what’s going on,” Madelyn said. He didn’t respond. He may not have heard her since Madelyn wasn’t holding the receiver, but she was pretty sure he had. He’d flinched at her words, but that was it, not even looking in her direction. Madelyn’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She turned to her mom and shook her head. He was going to tell them nothing.

  Mom held her gaze for a minute before turning back to Pop. Her voice was small as she answered his questions, telling him about her little family.

  Near the end of their conversation, he snuck a peek at Madelyn, one that seemed genuine, like he wanted to take her in—how she’d grown, what she looked like now. She loved him, but her disappointment kept coming out on top. They desperately needed his help, and he was unwilling to give it. So, she folded her arms and glared at him instead.

  She didn’t know what she was hoping for—a sudden confession, breaking down and asking their forgiveness? Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to oblige. He turned his head, never so much as glancing her way again.

  With his last words to Mom, he brought up the topic he had so deftly steered away from earlier. “Rachel, before you go, just know that I’m glad to see you. I didn’t really need you to do anything other than come see me. Just forget I said anything. Seeing you is enough. And I’m sorry I was upset about you bringing Madelyn. You were right to tell her.” And even though he mentioned her name, he refused to turn so he could view her disapproval once again.

  . . .

  When they got home, Jillian and Daniel peppered them with questions. “How was Grandpa?” “Did he ask about me?” “How far away is the prison?” They were asking everything except what they truly wanted to know—why was Grandpa in prison in the first place.

  “Whoa, wait a minute. Let me set my purse down at least,” Mom said, knowing what she needed to tell them. “Okay. Let’s go sit down in the living room, and I’ll answer your questions.”

  When they were all settled, she held up her hand. “Before you say another word, let me tell you something. Jilly and Daniel, your grandpa is in prison for involuntary manslaughter.”

  “Wow!” they both said.

  “What does that mean?” Jillian said.

  “It means he killed a man, but he didn’t really mean to.” Mom let the words hang in the air, gradually falling to the ground around their feet, like a muddy quagmire.

  After a full minute passed, Daniel whispered, “Who did he kill?”

  “His neighbor, George Holliwell.”

  “Why’d he do it?” Jillian’s little voice squeaked out.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think he meant to, but someone is gone, regardless. So, he’s in prison to pay for it.”

  All of them were nodding their heads, accepting but not possibly processing all that meant. Aunt Dory voiced it best. “Jillian, Daniel, I don’t know your grandfather, but that doesn’t matter. It’s a devastating thing to have happened—for the victim, his family, for your grandpa, for you. I know this is hard. I’m guessing you’re not sure what to say or even what to think, but it does seem like there’s something to do—a mystery of sorts that we’re trying to sort out. So, for the meantime, let’s focus on that. I imagine, over time, you’ll come to grips with the facts at hand.”

  And just like that, more truth was out. It was horrible and freeing at the same time. Relief washed over Mom’s face. “Okay then. Let me tell you what’s been happening.”

  By the time Mom was done explaining things to Jillian and Daniel, everyone was eager to move forward, to find what answers they could. “Can we listen to the transcript too?” Jillian wanted to know.

  Mom looked over at Madelyn and Aunt Dory. “I think we’ll read through it and share anything we think is important,” she said. “I don’t want this to be harder than it already is. So, if there are some details that I think are too much, we won’t share them. Got it?” Jillian and Daniel both nodded their agreement.

  “Let me go call Zane to see if they were able to get the transcript yet,” Madelyn said. But before she could do so, there was a knock at the door.

  “Zane!” Madelyn said when she answered the door.

  “Hi. Delia’s coming in too. She’s just parking the car.”

  By now everyone had gathered around the door, looking at him expectantly. “Well?”

  “We got the transcript. It took us all morning to track it do
wn, but Delia’s bringing it in.”

  “Have you read it? What does it say? Is there anything that stands out?” Questions were coming from several people at once.

  He laughed. “Hold on. One question at a time, okay? I haven’t read it. I figured we should all read it together. That only seems fair and decent.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that,” Mom said. “And where are our manners. Come in, come in.”

  A few minutes later, they were all gathered in Aunt Dory’s living room, eager to learn what the pages of transcript might reveal. They started by dividing it up between the fastest readers—Delia, Zane, Aunt Dory, and Madelyn. It was quiet while the four of them read, except for the anxious pacing of the others.

  “This doesn’t strike me as that unusual,” Aunt Dory said at last. “My part is about the two witnesses. They both said they were at the bar and saw your father drinking heavily. This one, a Mr. Tony Garfield, said, ‘The two of them left the bar together. Mr. Knight could hardly walk. Then a few minutes later we heard a lot of arguing. So, I went running out. I got there just in time to see Mr. Knight repeatedly stabbing Mr. Holliwell. I yelled for him to stop, but it was just too late.’ ” Aunt Dory let out a gasp. “Oh, Rachel, I’m sorry,” she said, looking at Jillian. “I probably shouldn’t have read that.” Jillian’s eyes were as big as pancakes.

  Mom shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking letting them be here, but I guess it’s too late now. Go ahead. What else does it say?”

  Aunt Dory had to regain her composure. “Well, Mr. Garfield goes on to say, ‘My friend, Jake Downey, came running out after me. He’s the one that ran back inside to call the police.’

  “Then the attorney asked, ‘What did Mr. Knight do then?’ and the witness responded, ‘He just passed out on top of the other man. He was like that when the police arrived.’

  “That’s the gist of the testimony. The other witness was Jake Downey. He told the exact same story,” Aunt Dory concluded.