Natasha's Hope

by Heather Greenis

  Matthew received top grades at the end of his first year. During Matt’s second year, the professors mentioned the success of one of the school’s former graduates.

  “Your name was spoken in class today, Uncle Stewart. You are considered a celebrity among the professors.”

  “Are the professors aware of our connection?” Stewart asked. He joined his nephew at the table to work.

  “No-o-o,” he responded. His eyes appeared twice their normal size. “I’m proud of your accomplishments, Uncle Stewart, but I don’t need the added pressure of living up to your name. They know Poppa works for your company, but not that he’s a partner, or that you and Momma are siblings. Once I complete my masters and graduate with my degree, I’ll be honoured to introduce you as my private tutor, but not before.”

  Stewart smiled and nodded.

  * * *

  Rose became more outspoken as she grew. During her late childhood, she adored the attention she received while starring in the school plays and waved proudly as her family watched her curtain calls. She encouraged her older brother to join her on the stage, but Alex refused, preferring to sit with their family. Rose excelled with dramatic scenes, accentuating facial expressions and gestures, to the delight of the crowd.

  * * *

  Seeing her adolescent son at the door to her father’s sitting room, Hope stood, planning to give her son and father privacy for a visit.

  “I wish for you to remain,” Alex informed her.

  Alex sat in the chair beside the love seat. Watching her son, Hope was able to see even more resemblance to her father. Maturing into his teenaged years, his features, his appearance were Donovan, but his smile and compassion were truly Venderkemp.

  “I wish to learn more about my heritage. The Donovan heritage.”

  Both Hope and her father expected her children to inquire about Natasha as they matured. This will be an emotional discussion for Poppa. To her surprise, her father’s eyes sparkled. He’s comfortable. Hope sat back and listened as her father spoke of their life together. Slowly, as the story evolved, her father’s voice cracked. Tears swelled in his eyes. Alex’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Reaching for their hands, she encouraged the story to continue.

  Tears rolled down Alex’s cheeks as her father described coming home to find his wife dead. Oh my gosh, after all these years it still brings tears to my eyes. She gripped Alex’s hand and removed a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt. The room went silent for a moment. Able to hear her own heart beating, Hope took a deep breath.

  “Are you able to continue, Papa?” Alex asked.

  “Yes.”

  Poppa continued, speaking of the difficulty moving on with his life, much to the dismay of his family. A chuckle escaped Hope’s lips as she recalled her own youthful attempts to interest her poppa in courting.

  “Your momma would embarrass and shock me,” her father remarked. “Yet, I cherished watching her grow.”

  Her father went on to describe how Hope introduced him to Izabella.

  “You were relatively young when you met,” Alex commented. “You wanted a large family, why didn’t you have children with Izabella?”

  Stewart shifted his gaze to the floor. Memories of that dreadful week when Izabella was depressed filled Hope’s mind. The day her friend learned she was barren. The room went dead silent.

  “You’re not married,” Alex blurted out.

  His tone was very matter of fact for her normally shy son. Hope’s eyes bulged. Stewart’s jaw dropped. Awkward silence filled the room. They couldn’t lie to her children. Her father looked toward Hope and back to Alex.

  “We are not,” he finally admitted. “If it would please her, we would be standing in front of the priest before the day’s end. Izabella does not wish to be married. I’ve accepted that decision. That information is not to leave this room. Everyone assumes we are married and that cannot change.”

  “I don’t understand. Your love is apparent.”

  “I’m not willing to speak any more about it. The topic is closed,” her father declared. He waved his hands in front of his chest.

  Alex nodded and then turned his attention to Hope.

  “Tell me how you and Poppa met.”

  The warmth of Adam’s love filled her heart and made her smile. She reminisced about the day she met her future husband.

  “I beg of you,” Stewart interrupted. “Please don’t say you married Adam simply for his smile. Your husband is intelligent and compassionate. He possesses more attributes than I could possibly think to list.”

  “I appreciated his intelligence and compassion once we became better acquainted, but his smile captivated my attention the first time we spoke. That is why I cherished the days he joined us at the pond.”

  “That is true,” Stewart admitted. “He relaxed at the pond. Still does.”

  “Poppa laughs at the pond,” Alex added. “Rose and I gain another sibling when he joins us in the water.”

  “Yes. Your poppa was shy when we first met. More so than he is today. That is the other trait you inherited.” She flicked her long blonde hair past her shoulders. “Your poppa’s intelligence earned him a scholarship to Picton. Adam believed I deserved a life with a man of more refined status. You must understand, the Venderkemp’s were not wealthy.”

  “Papa Stewart owned a successful company and the Venderkemps were—”

  “Proud and loving, but lacking financial security,” Hope interjected.

  * * *

  Stewart finished detailing the story of his life with Natasha, then stood and went to his nightstand. Planning to allow Alex to read Natasha’s diary, he reached for the book. This isn’t my decision. Alex is my grandson, not my son. He looked at Hope, and she nodded. Not a word was spoken, but she knew his intent.

  “This is your grandmother’s dairy. I encourage you to read this at your leisure, Alex. You may discuss this at any time with me or your momma.”

  “Do not discuss this book with Rose, Tom, the volunteers, or classmates,” Hope warned. “I will speak with your sister when I feel she’s of an appropriate age. The contents do not concern anyone outside our family.”

  Exhausted from the emotional conversation, Stewart fought back a yawn. “It’s late, and I’m tired. We shall speak tomorrow. Goodnight, Alex, Hope.”

  “Goodnight, Papa.”

  “Goodnight, Poppa.”

  As they left the room and closed the door, Izabella entered from her sitting room.

  “Were you able to hear the conversation?” Stewart asked.

  “Indeed, a great deal of it. For thirteen years of age, Alex is a mature young man.”

  “He surprised me with his statement regarding our relationship. I never presumed he suspected the truth.”

  “Nor did I, but I’m confident when I say he won’t speak of it. Now, I wish to retire.”

  Stewart stood and followed Izabella into the next room. Once she folded the sheets down, he stepped toward Izabella and kissed her.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  * * *

  Adam was already dressed for bed, sitting by the window, reading when Hope entered.

  “Alex inquired about his heritage tonight.”

  Adam placed his novel on his lap. “I’m pleased Alex inquired,” Adam responded, standing. He crawled in beside Hope, taking her hand in his. “It’s important both Alex and Rose understand their heritage.”

  A soft tap on their closed door interrupted them.

  “Momma, Poppa.”

  “Come in, Son,” Adam responded.

  Alex opened the door and sat on the edge of their bed. They talked for over half an hour before he returned to his own room to read the diary. Hope snuggled into her husband’s arms.

  “Alex and Rose possess very different personalities,” she commented, “but they do respect each another. It is my hope that bond continues to strengthen as they grow. Together, they will be expected to administer the trust fund and inform their ch
ildren and grandchildren of its existence.”

  Water clouded her eyes. She sniffed.

  “Why the tears?” he questioned.

  “A time will come when Poppa will not be with us. We have a marriage of true souls, yet Poppa and Aunt Vicki are equally important to me. I didn’t see Poppa during our honeymoon, but there has never been another time we were parted. After losing other family members, I cannot imagine my life without him.”

  “Your father is healthy,” he reminded her, kissing her forehead. “I do not recall seeing him ill in all the years I have known him. He will remain in our lives for many years to come.” He paused and took a deep breath and exhaled. “We must put pleasant thoughts in your mind in order for you to rest. Let us switch from thoughts of mortality to intimacy,” he suggested.

  Hope smiled and kissed her husband.

  * * *

  Stewart and Izabella were chattering when Alex appeared at their door with the diary in his hand. Even at a distance, Stewart could see Alex’s bloodshot eyes.

  “Do you have a m-moment?” he asked. “Momma is not in her r-room.”

  “I will give you some privacy,” Izabella whispered. She stood and went to her private sitting area. Alex entered the room and sat on the chair to Stewart’s right with the book clutched to his chest.

  “I f-finished reading the diary and the l-letter.” He took a breath, placing his hand on his chest. “I knew the ending, how Nana ended her life, but still found myself crying. I don’t think I have the strength that either of you possessed.”

  “The women in your life are strong, stubborn, and determined, yet compassionate. Your momma possesses similar attributes to her mother.”

  “The details of your relationship with Nana were shocking. I never knew Momma was, well, that Nana was with child when you were married.”

  Heat flushed Stewart’s face. He closed his eyes for a moment, upset with himself for getting embarrassed.

  “Indeed,” he responded. “I contemplated whether to allow you to read that part. I fell in love with your nana. I believed we would grow old together when I proposed marriage. I do not harbour regrets about how my beautiful daughter was conceived. Natasha lives on in both you and your sister. I’m eternally grateful for every moment I spent with your nana. I’m equally grateful Izabella entered my life.”

  “Neither Rose nor I will ever question the love in our home. You and Izabella. Momma and Poppa.”

  After a long discussion, Alex returned to his room. Stewart opened the door to the adjoining room to find Izabella absorbed in her novel. “I’ll return in a few minutes.” She looked up, smiled, and continued reading. Stewart left their quarters and walked down the hallway.

  * * *

  “Goodnight, Momma,” Alex said from the bedroom door.

  Hope looked up from her mending. “Goodnight, Alex.”

  She turned her attention back to the cloth.

  “Hope, do you have a few minutes.”

  She looked up to see her father at the doorway. “Of course, Poppa.”

  She placed the cloth by her side as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Alex returned with the diary,” he informed her.

  “Oh, Poppa.” Her heart filled with regret. “You didn’t call on me for support.”

  “Do not fret. We had a lovely visit. I will miss Alex when he moves out on his own. I love Rose. She is a joy at the dinner table, keeping the conversation flowing, but like our relationship, I cherish the bond Alex and I have developed.”

  “Rose is a Donovan,” Hope said proudly. “She is always willing to share details about her day. I will never question her feelings when she is not pleased. Adam does not believe she possesses an ounce of his blood in her veins, but I disagree. She has a large heart when it comes to our family, especially for her brother’s well-being.”

  Her father placed his thumb and forefinger on his chin and gave it a gentle rub. “It would be different if Alex wasn’t so shy, but she feels the need to protect him.”

  “Alex is maturing into a younger version of Adam. After our first kiss, Adam admitted he never expected to marry or have a family. I fear Alex will head down the same path. I want both my children to marry and have a family of their own. I am concerned we are not meeting any female friends. During our private conversations, Alex says his chums are simply acquaintances. Although I plead with him, he won’t invite them to dinner with our family.”

  “After reading the diary, Alexander is aware of the strength of his Nana Natasha. He has grown to witness the strength of his Aunt Vicki, Izabella, and even your strength. The young women in his life have much to live up to.”

  “He mustn’t feel that way. We wish to become acquainted with any young woman he takes an interest in.”

  “I believe they are demonstrating more interest than he is prepared to reciprocate. Izabella describes your son as a ‘proud young man’. As I recall, Adam was the first gentleman you invited to have dinner with our family.”

  Hope scowled, not appreciating the reminder.

  “I wish he would meet an outgoing young woman. He requires a slight push.”

  “You must be patient and allow your son to spread his wings. He is only sixteen.”

  “Sixteen. My children are growing up so fast. Adam and I have been discussing Rose. I feel it’s time we speak with my daughter about her heritage.”

  “Tomorrow. I’m too tired for that discussion tonight. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

  “Goodnight, Poppa.”

  * * *

  Matthew began his fourth and final year at Picton. At the end of each day, he boarded the train and rode to the job site. With the sketches embedded in his mind, he walked around the interior of the building with Stewart, examining every detail from an engineer’s perspective.

  Shortly after Christmas, when Matt stepped off the train, a few girls giggled and then waved as their chum boarded. One girl caught his attention. Six inches shorter than him, he paused to admire her figure. Her brown pony-tail tossed in the breeze as she turned. Her brown eyes sparked with laughter. Adjusting his school books to ensure she could see the university logos, he caught her eye and smiled. He nodded briefly and headed toward the site.

  Seeing the same girl the following day, Matt took advantage of the moment, introduced himself and invited her to dine with him.

  Stewart left Greg watching the crew and walked toward his nephew.

  “Matt. You may want to consider spending the spring break working.”

  Matt looked up from the assignment. “Working? For your company?”

  “I don’t have any connections with my competitors, so yes. Working under your father.”

  Matt rolled his eyes to the side and then sighed. “You’d think I’d learn. Yes. I’d like that.”

  Stewart was all grins as he walked off.

  The following week, reading to the children in the study room, Stewart noticed Matt and Greg standing in the doorway. Winking to acknowledge them, Stewart finished the story and then walked into the lobby.

  “I would like to request your assistance, Uncle Stewart. Poppa gave me an assignment, and I would appreciate your expertise before I continue with my sketches.” He scrunched his lips to the side. “I lack confidence in my ability,” he admitted.

  “I’d be concerned if you didn’t. That will come in time, Matt,” he replied. “My father was instrumental to my success, offering assistance and advice.”

  “That is pleasing to hear, Uncle Stewart.”

  Stewart led his nephew to the family dining area, leaving Hope and Greg to visit. Stewart spread out the papers, focused on his nephew’s drawings and then on the notes. He turned his attention back to the drawing, examining the detail.

  “I’m impressed,” he admitted, looking toward Matthew. “I did not possess such talent the year I graduated.”

  “The credit is owed to my tutor,” Matthew informed him, but he was beaming with pride.

  “Although I appreciate the compl
iment, the inspiration comes from within. My father was a talented contractor, as is your poppa. We simply chose to avoid the physical labour.” Stewart gave Matt a few minor suggestions and watched as he scribbled some notes.

  “It has come to my attention there is a special young woman in your life.”

  Matthew didn’t try to contain his grin. “There is,” he admitted.

  “You didn’t inherit the blue eyes, but you did acquire the tell-tale sparkle. It suits your green eyes. I hope to make her acquaintance in the near future.”

  “Momma is planning to contact Aunt Hope. I will invite her to dine with us on Sunday.”

  * * *

  “The Carson’s have arrived,” a female volunteer informed Stewart.

  Stewart walked out of the building as Matthew assisted a young woman from the buggy and led her to the door.

  “Uncle Stewart, allow me the privilege of introducing Caroline.”

  Stewart reached for the young woman’s hand and held it.

  “It is truly a privilege to make your acquaintance.” He turned his attention back to Matt. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten your uncle. That I wouldn’t meet a woman you were courting until your wedding day.”

  Matt leaned his head toward his friend. “My uncle possesses a dry wit,” Matt reminded her.

  * * *

  Hope walked down the steps toward the office where Adam was reviewing papers.

  “Poppa, I wish to ask a personal question.”

  Hearing her son’s voice, she stopped in mid stride. Expecting Alex to close the door, she stood outside the office door and listened to her husband and son’s conversation.