When Lavelle Guzman stepped from the train, Ashley had little doubt as to her identity. Although it had been half a lifetime since Ashley had seen her, Lavelle looked strikingly similar to Ashley’s mother. There was a difference, however. Lavelle smiled in greeting. Ashley couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother smile—if ever.
“Aunt Lavelle?” she questioned, skipping to greet the dark-haired woman. Moving closer, Ashley could see a shock of silver-streaked hair peeking out from her cloche brim.
“Ashley!” the woman gasped her name, reaching out to embrace her tightly. “I can’t believe it’s you.” She held Ashley at arm’s length. “Let me look at you.”
Ashley endured her study momentarily. “I hope you had a good trip.”
“It was a wonderful trip. I only wish I could have come the very moment you sent the telegram. I pray I’m not too late.” She frowned and added, “Is Father . . .”
Ashley nodded. “He’s still alive. Grandpa is in great pain and he’s slipping away fast. I wish I could say that he was better. He takes very little of his morphine because he longs to see you and to have his head clear. He longs to renew the relationship between you.”
“Oh, my poor father. How he must have suffered these long years.” Lavelle looked at the ground. “I feel so awful for the past.”
Ashley felt uncomfortable with the topic and looked down the track to where they were unloading the baggage. “I’ve arranged for a friend, Pastor McGuire, to pick up your luggage. He’s going to drive us home. Usually I just walk, but I didn’t want you to have to do that.”
Lavelle reached out again and touched Ashley’s shoulder. “Have you heard from your mother?”
Ashley shook her head. “Not a word.”
Lavelle’s expression hardened. “Leticia is a difficult woman. She’s very opinionated and harsh. I know what she did to you. Mind you, I didn’t know about it until years after the fact. She never wrote me with much of any detail. When Father disappeared from Los Angeles, I’m sorry to say I was caught up in my own problems. I never even tried to see him—and all because your mother convinced me it was for the best.”
Ashley wanted nothing to do with talking about her mother, but her aunt was insistent on bringing the past to light. “Mother always seemed to believe she knew what was for the best. Frankly, I try to put it from my mind. Grandpa has been good to me, and we’ve had a wonderful life here.”
“He’s a good man,” Lavelle replied. “I wish I’d seen that sooner. It might have saved me years of pain.”
Ashley was surprised at her aunt’s words. “I thought you hated him, as Mother did.”
Lavelle’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose I did at first. Leticia convinced me to do so.”
The passengers around them cleared out, some heading to the Harvey restaurant to partake of lunch, while others were eager to reach their destinations.
“There’s Pastor McGuire,” Ashley said, spotting the man as he worked his way through the crowd. “We can continue our conversation at home where you can relax, and I’ll fix us some tea or coffee.”
****
With Lavelle’s suitcases put in the spare bedroom, Ashley bid the pastor and Mrs. Breck good-bye, then set out some refreshments for her aunt. Grandpa was in a deep sleep, so Lavelle and Ashley both thought it best to let him rest. Ashley wondered if she would find it difficult to communicate with her aunt. The woman seemed nothing like Ashley’s mother and yet she, too, had just as easily turned her back on her father.
“This is such a sweet little house,” Lavelle said, coming into the kitchen where Ashley worked. “I love this flowered wallpaper. I’d like to have something like this in my kitchen. It makes everything so bright.”
“It does at that. I used to have it painted a light yellow and that was nice, too, but I found this paper and thought it rather charming,” Ashley admitted, studying the delicate rosebud print. She drew her thoughts back to the task at hand and smiled. “I’ve made some tea and have some cookies, if you’d like.”
“The tea alone is fine, my dear.” Lavelle smiled. “I just can’t believe this is you all grown-up. What have you done with yourself all these years?”
Ashley brought the cups of tea and motioned to the dining room. “We can either sit at the table or we can go to the living room.”
“Wherever you’re most comfortable.”
Ashley led the way to the living room, knowing she could pick up her crocheting between sips of tea. Once they were settled, Ashley answered Lavelle’s question. “You wanted to know what I’ve done with myself. Well, I have a daughter.”
“You do? Why, that’s marvelous. I didn’t even know you’d married. Well, I mean, I knew about the man your mother hated.”
“Yes, Ethan. He’s my daughter’s father. He didn’t know I was expecting when he went to war. He never knew.”
Lavelle’s expression changed to one of genuine sorrow. “Oh, my child, how awful for you.”
“Mother wanted nothing to do with me, since I wouldn’t cooperate with her plans. I never even had a chance to tell her about Natalie. I contacted Grandpa, knowing that you and mother had rejected him, and figured we’d make each other good company.”
“So you came to Los Angeles?”
Ashley nodded. “He was just finishing the last of his business dealings. I told him my situation, and he took me under his wing. We came here to Winslow because he’d heard the climate was very good and the life-style simple. He bought this house and let me furnish it the way I wanted to. It’s been a good life these eleven years.”
“I can tell. You’re beautiful and gracious.” Lavelle sipped her tea for a moment, then asked, “Would you tell me about him?”
“Grandpa?” Ashley grinned. “I’ve never known anyone with a more pleasant and contented disposition. Grandpa says that becoming a Christian changed his entire outlook and that the things that seemed important to him so long ago were no longer as valuable to him.”
“I know what he means.”
Ashley looked at her aunt oddly. “You do? You’re a believer?”
Lavelle nodded. “You see, not long after your mother forced me to break ties with our father, my husband became ill. It was only after he died that I learned he’d squandered a good portion of my inheritance. He owned several businesses, none of which was all that profitable. I sold those off. Sold the lavish home we’d built and managed to put aside what money I made in those sales. I dismissed all my servants, with exception to one dear sweet old woman, Eva, who had been with me since I’d married Bryce.”
“I’m so sorry about Uncle Bryce. I had no idea he was gone.”
Lavelle opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Ashley couldn’t imagine what had stopped her from speaking her mind, but she let it go.
“I hope you don’t mind if I work on this while we visit,” Ashley said, picking up her crocheting. She gazed at her aunt, who looked ever so elegant and refined in her camel-colored traveling dress. Her hair, now free of the hat, was shaped in soft waves of brown with silver highlights.
“I don’t mind at all,” she said, offering Ashley a weary smile. She took up the tea again and grew very thoughtful. “My housemaid, Eva, led me to an understanding of what my father had found. She shared the Bible with me, and it changed my life.”
Ashley nodded, not wanting her to give any detail to the matter. She was already feeling conviction enough from Natalie and Grandpa. “Grandpa will be glad to hear that. He puts great store in his faith. All of Winslow esteems him for his generosity and kindness. He’s a great man—they’ll be sad to see him go.”
“I could have guessed that. My father was always a charismatic soul. He could have made friends with the enemy in any war,” Lavelle said, laughing. Then she sobered rather suddenly. “I would give any amount of money to turn back the hands of time so that I could spend more days with him. I hope that while I’m here you’ll allow me to take over his care—or at least help.”
Ashley smiled and worked at the stitches of the sweater’s collar. “I’m glad for the help. Frankly, it’s been hard to watch him deteriorate. Some days he seems to rally a bit. He’ll get out of bed and sometimes even join us for a brief time in the living room, but most of the time he stays in bed, weakened by the cancer.”
“I want to spend whatever time we have together. I want to talk to him and have him talk to me. I hope your mother will feel the same way.”
“Don’t count on that.” Ashley’s snide tone drew her aunt’s stare. “As I mentioned, I haven’t had a response from the telegram I sent her. I sent it at the same time I sent yours.”
“Well, I’ll see to that. I’ll send her one myself and get her to at least explain why she isn’t here.”
Ashley put down the crochet hook. “Have you been in touch with my mother over these years?”
Lavelle looked away as if uncomfortable with the question. “I have had some contact. Your mother and I are hardly close anymore. She doesn’t share my feelings about faith or God.”
“I could have guessed that,” Ashley said, still unwilling to admit she didn’t share them either. Tucking her hair behind her ear, Ashley picked up her cup.
“We’ve exchanged a few letters—a very few. Your mother seems to think that unless a person can profit her in some way, they are useless.”
Ashley nodded. “I know that well enough. It’s the reason I came here. But I’m not sorry I came. I’ve had a good life here. I’ve worked as a Harvey Girl at the station for most of those years. I’m the top waitress now, although I’ve taken a leave of absence to be here for Grandpa.”
“Will you go back to it now that I’m here?” Lavelle asked.
Ashley finished her tea before answering. “I might. It couldn’t hurt to have the income.” She didn’t want to let even her aunt know about the bank account the lawyer had set up.
“I intend to earn my keep while I’m here,” Lavelle stated. “I will buy groceries as well. I’m not wealthy by my previous standards, but I’m certainly not destitute. You needn’t worry about the extra mouths to feed.”
“I wasn’t,” Ashley quickly said. “We’re quite comfortable here, as I’ve already told you. I have preserves put up, and I know how to stretch a meal if need be. I came here hardly knowing how to boil water, but over the years I’ve learned to fend for myself quite nicely. We’ll be just fine.” A train whistle blew in the distance, and Ashley looked at her watch. “Natalie will be coming home from school soon.” She looked at the sweater and picked up her hook one more time. “Before she gets here, I wonder if you would mind my asking you something.”
Lavelle put down her cup and nodded. “Please do.”
Ashley met her aunt’s curious expression. “Why did Grandpa’s choice make Mother so mad?”
“Well, that’s an easy question. He threatened her comfort.”
“But my father was a wealthy man. He was from old New England money.”
“Yes,” Lavelle admitted, “but while the prestige was there, the pocketbook didn’t always match the expense ledger. Our father was a generous man who lavished us with large sums of money for no reason at all. He spoiled us terribly. As a young woman, I remember only having to ask for some bauble or trinket and Father would see to it that I had it. We wore Worth gowns and ate off of Crown Derby china. We had wonderful collections of jewels and our own carriages and teams of horses.
“Of course, we were his only family. And Father simply knew how to make money. He was quite gifted. After Mother died, he poured himself into his work even more than he had before. The only way he could feel our approval or love was to bestow his wealth upon us, and he did so with great flourish.” She paused and grew misty eyed. She twisted her hands together and sighed.
“One day Father wrote us a letter. He told us he’d been in an accident. A car accident.”
“Yes, I know about that—he told me. He’d broken his back and nearly died.”
Lavelle drew a deep breath. “It was during that time someone shared the Gospel with him. He didn’t know if he’d live or die at that point.”
“I remember he said the hospital chaplain came to see him. He asked Grandpa if he were to meet God that night, would it be a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Exactly,” Lavelle said and continued. “He tried hard to share with us how he felt about learning of God’s love, but your mother was focused on the other parts of that letter. Father told us he’d put an end to his business dealings with his partner, Jerreth Sanders. He’d sold out his holdings and had used part of the money to try to make things right with people he’d swindled. Your mother went completely out of her mind. She said he was setting himself up to be sued or worse.”
“I can’t imagine her caring about that,” Ashley said without thinking.
“Oh, she didn’t care about Father’s well-being; she only cared that the funds would be completely drained in a legal battle. I feared it, too, for your mother and I discussed our own situations and knew we needed Father’s continued support. We were used to spending well beyond what our husbands gave us, and frankly, our husbands were used to the extra money as well.”
“What did you do?” Ashley questioned, knowing the ultimate outcome but not understanding how they arrived at it.
“Your mother and father came to Los Angeles. It would have been that trip they made the winter before you married.”
“I remember. All I knew was that they were very upset with Grandpa.”
Lavelle sighed. “Yes, well, upset hardly says it all. They arrived and your mother took me aside first and discussed the situation in detail. Then our husbands joined us and finally we went as a force to meet with Father. It was ugly. We were ugly.” Tears streamed down Lavelle’s cheeks. “We said things that should never have been spoken.”
Ashley felt sorry for the woman. She was so clearly contrite for what she’d done, and it made Ashley feel some small amount of hope that perhaps her mother had changed as well.
“Before the day was over, Father had agreed to divide his remaining estate and settle it upon Leticia and me. It was no small pittance, and he agreed he’d rather we have the benefit of his money than to see it go to some lawyer and settlement. But with that agreement, he tried to tell us of God and how much we needed to know the truth. I listened but saw the anger in Leticia and figured it couldn’t be something good for either of us. I rejected his thoughts and listened to her. She said he was crazy—that he should be put away. She actually talked of locating a sanitarium where he could get help. My husband wanted no part of that. He had friends in Los Angeles who could very well make or break him. To have a crazy relative—especially a father-in-law—was hardly a glamorous calling card.
“Finally, your mother agreed we’d let it drop. Father was so hurt by us and how we acted. By then I think he was glad to see us go.”
“I had no idea. He’s never spoken out against either of you, even once,” Ashley said, saddened by the scene she envisioned.
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Lavelle said, dabbing a handkerchief at her eyes. “Years later, when Father had vanished and no one seemed to know where he’d gone, I found out that Bryce had lost most of my inheritance. He suffered a heart attack and lingered for days, then finally died. Like I said, I sold off most everything and now have enough to live on until I die. Perhaps if I’d had children as your mother did, I wouldn’t have done things that way. But I’m not sorry for it. I don’t miss the house and the trappings. I don’t miss the servants whispering behind my back. And I certainly don’t miss the worry that accompanied owning more than I could ever hope to use.”
The ringing of a bell brought Ashley’s attention. “Grandpa’s awake.” She smiled. “He’ll be so happy to see you.”
“I hope so,” Lavelle replied. “I want very much for this to be a good reunion.”
Ashley got to her feet. “This is a dream come true for him, Aunt Lavelle. To find that you share his faith and have
come to see him again are the only things he’s longed for.”
Her aunt sniffed back tears. “Thank you so much for sending me the telegram.”
Ashley shook her head. “Come to think of it, I’m not even sure how it found its way to you, given the fact I sent it to the last address Grandpa had for you. That must have been the house you sold.”
Lavelle smiled. “God always finds a way, even when there seems to be no chance at finding one. This is His doing, Ashley. Pure and simple.”
The idea bothered Ashley in a way she couldn’t understand. Trembling at the thought of God’s divine intervention in matters of her life, Ashley pushed the idea aside. God didn’t care about the details. He didn’t care about her.
Or did He?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Russell looked up to see the face of his younger daughter. Oh, how much she favored her mother. For a moment, all he wanted to do was memorize the way she looked. It was almost like having Peg with him again.
“Papa?”
His heart swelled with pride. “Come here, child. I’ve so looked forward to this moment.”
Lavelle left Ashley at the door and took the chair beside the bed. She reached out to grasp Russell’s hands. “I can’t believe it’s been so long.”
“I need to pick up more medicine from the doctor, so I’ll leave you two to talk,” Ashley said, closing the door quietly.
Lavelle looked to her father, as if awaiting some instruction on how she should comport herself. Russell felt sorry for her and immediately set out to soothe her conscience. “I’ve asked you here to seek your forgiveness.”
“What?” Lavelle questioned, shaking her head. “You can’t be serious. I’m the one who’s come seeking forgiveness. You’ve done nothing wrong.” She began to weep softly, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve. “Oh, Papa, I can’t believe it’s come to this.”
Russell squeezed her hand. “I’m so glad you came. I was worried that you wouldn’t.”
[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years Page 13
