by Misha Crews
“I wish he had told you about her. Just like I wish you had told me about Christopher.”
Jenna winced, but Kitty’s voice was gentle. Jenna tried to match the tone when she spoke next. “So why did he ask you to look out for Maya?”
“Well, her mother was gone, and I think he wanted — ”
“No, I mean why you. Why not someone else?”
Kitty looked away. “We were close, your father and I.”
“Close?” Jenna stared. “How ‘close’?”
Kitty met her gaze. “Very close.” She saw Jenna start to speak and rushed to forestall another barrage of questions. “When you moved to Burke in 1939, we began seeing each other.”
“Sexually.”
Kitty’s cheeks tinged with red. “Romantically,” she corrected. “Your father was a fascinating man, and I was lonely.”
“And Bill?”
“Bill never knew.”
It took a heartbeat for Jenna to make the next leap. “But Frank knows, doesn’t he? Frank knows all of this.”
Kitty nodded jerkily. “I don’t know why I told him. I just couldn’t seem to help it.”
“Frank has a way of finding things out,” Jenna said wearily. “It’s not your fault.” No wonder he was so furious, so confused, so crazed. Carrying all this knowledge around with him, not saying anything to anybody. It wouldn’t make for an easy mind. Jenna wondered what other secrets he was carrying. She thought about Oak Ridge, about the work he was doing at the Naval Station, and she shivered. She really didn’t want to know.
Jenna fiddled with the edge of the photograph that she still held in her hand. “And so how did you get this?”
“Bud gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“As punishment, I suppose.” She paused, her pale face growing grayer. “I took Denny with me to Arlington once, dropped him off at the local movie house while I went to visit Maya. This was the spring after Lucien died. Denny made friends with one of the ushers at the theater, and ended up going back there a few more times over the next month. The two of them met there and — ”
“Denny fell in love with her,” Jenna finished.
“Yes. I like Maya. She was a good girl, and I’m sure she’s grown into a fine woman. But — ”
Again, Jenna interrupted. “But you weren’t going to let your son marry her.”
Kitty drew herself up. “No. No, I wasn’t about to let that happen. I know what the world is like. Denny and Maya wouldn’t have had any more chance than Lucien and Dominique.”
No wonder Maya had insisted that Kitty wouldn’t accept her. “I thought you said the world was a more tolerant place now.”
“Tolerance and acceptance are two different things. Denny had a bright future ahead of him. So I sent him away, just for a little while.”
“On a trip to Mexico.” Disgust sat thickly in Jenna’s stomach.
“Yes.”
“And he died there.”
“Yes.” Kitty closed her eyes, trembling with grief long carried. “It’s appalling, I know. You don’t have to tell me.”
“And you don’t know the half of it.” Jenna held the photo out so that it was in front of Kitty’s face when she opened her eyes. Kitty recoiled slightly, but Jenna ploughed forward. She tapped the image of Joseph. “Do you see this little boy here? That’s your grandson, Kitty. That’s Denny’s child.”
“What?” Kitty grabbed the photo and studied it intently, as if she might see her dead son’s face come swimming out of it.
Jenna slumped backwards. “Did you ever even ask Bud who the baby was?”
“He said it was the child of a friend,” Kitty said numbly. All the animation had gone out of her.
Jenna shook her head. “It was his brother’s son. Your grandson. My nephew.”
My nephew. Suddenly the words took on new life, new meaning. Maya was her sister, Jenna realized, and Joseph was really her nephew. She wanted to laugh, but the sound wouldn’t come.
“I’ve seen him,” she said.
Eagerness flared in Kitty’s eyes. “When?”
“Saturday. I went to his piano recital.” Only three days ago. How could it have been only three days ago? Jenna found herself explaining, much as she had done with Frank, how she had learned about Maya, how she had found her.
“So that young man we saw outside the ice cream parlor….”
“That was Maya’s brother,” Jenna said. She pulled her coat around her, feeling the revolver shift in her pocket. It felt like they had been out here for hours. She ached with weariness, chilled to the bone. It had been some time since she’d been able to feel her toes. How long would Frank keep them out here before he gave her back her son?
“I thought so,” Kitty said. For the first time, Jenna noticed that her lips were starting to turn blue. Tear tracks were frozen to her cheeks, and as Jenna watched, fresh tears spilled from her eyes, melting the old ones away.
“I’m so sorry,” Jenna said, and she meant it. Kitty had suffered in a way no one should have to suffer. The death of both her children, and Jenna’s betrayal. One grandson who was not her grandson, and one that had been hidden from her by her own prejudice. She reached out and squeezed Kitty’s hand, and Kitty squeezed back, a lifeline of love that could not be crushed.
A thin voice pierced the cold air. “Mommy! What are you doing out there?”
The women looked up, toward the shore. It was Christopher, plain as life, tiny against the expanse of shoreline. His red coat stood out vividly from the brown grass, like a drop of fresh blood on a dead leaf.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JENNA PLUNGED THE OARS INTO THE water and laboriously turned the boat around, aiming for land. Kitty leaned forward in her seat, gripping the sides.
“We’re coming, darling!” Kitty called to Christopher. Then she said to Jenna, “I don’t see Frank’s car anywhere. Do you think he dropped Christopher off and left?”
“I doubt it,” Jenna answered grimly. She could feel her mouth stretch in a grimace of strain every time she moved the oars. It was driving her mad not to be able to see her son, to watch him as they approached the shore. So instead, she watched Kitty’s face. Every slightest twitch of Kitty’s features made her heart pound.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Kitty called out anxiously.
“Yes,” came Christopher’s reply.
Jenna closed her eyes in relief at the sound of her son’s voice. “Keep him talking,” she said, panting now with exertion.
“What should I say?”
“Anything. Ask him questions. Just let me hear his voice.”
Kitty raised her voice again. “Did you — did you have a good time with Frank this afternoon?”
“Yes.” The frustratingly short word floated slowly across the water.
“What did you do?” Jenna called over her shoulder.
No reply.
“Christopher?” Jenna yelled out, trying to twist around. “Kitty, is he still there?”
Kitty was leaned so far forward she was almost in Jenna’s lap. “Yes, he’s there. He’s just not answering. Christopher!” she hollered in a very un-Kitty-like voice. “Answer your mother.”
Even from where she sat, Jenna could hear him burst into tears. “Mommy, don’t be mad!” he sobbed.
“Oh my God,” she moaned. “What did Frank do to him?”
Kitty answered for her. “Mommy’s not mad, sweetheart. Just tell us what you did.”
“We — we got ice cream. And I haven’t had my dinner yet!” A fresh round of sobs bounced across the water. From the sound of his voice, Jenna could tell they were getting close.
She gave a sobbing half-laugh and called over her shoulder, “Oh, that’s all right, sweetheart. It’s a special day today, so it’s all right.”
“Mommy, I’m cold.” Now the voice was plaintive. “Can we go home soon?”
As if in answer, the boat knocked up against the dock. Jenna tied off to the end of the pier, then scrambled
up onto the solid wood. She had never been so glad to have her feet touch ground.
Legs wobbling madly, she dashed toward her son, who held his arms out expectantly. She could hear Kitty’s boots thudding against the dock and knew that her mother was right behind her.
Jenna swept Christopher up in her arms in a violent embrace, so grateful to feel the warm, sturdy little body pressed against her. Her muscles were weak and rubbery, but she held her son tightly. A moment later, she felt Kitty’s arms around her, supporting her. Christopher squirmed, unaccustomed to all the cuddling.
“Why were you both on a boat?” he asked. “Were you fishing or something?”
Jenna and Kitty laughed through their tears and took turns kissing his red-apple cheeks.
“Let’s go home,” Kitty said. “Frank’s not here. He must have taken pity on us, after all.”
“You’re right.” Both women jumped as the voice came from behind them. Jenna and Kitty turned to see Frank striding self-assuredly toward them. He looked handsome as ever in his long gray wool coat. His shoes were polished and shiny, even in the damp grass.
Jenna let Christopher slide to the ground, pushed him behind her protectively, and kept him there with both hands. Her eyes searched the road behind him, desperate for a car to pass by. And where was Adam? Had Midge been able to reach him? Had she even believed what Jenna had told her?
Frank smiled as he approached. He spoke again. “Or, I guess I should say, you’re half-right. I’m still here, as you can plainly see. But I did take pity on you.”
It was Kitty who found her voice first. “Have you been here all this time?”
“Yes. I parked my car farther up the road and walked back. Christopher and I were over in those trees when you arrived. We were playing a little game of hide-and-seek, weren’t we, son?”
The little boy peeked around from behind his mother and smiled tentatively at his Uncle Frank. Jenna felt him grip her coat tightly. Her son, ever sensitive, must have picked up on the fact that the grown-ups were upset about something.
Frank reached out his hand to tousle Christopher’s hair in a pseudo-friendly gesture. Jenna pushed his arm away with fierce defensiveness. “Don’t touch him,” she said viciously. “What do you want?”
“He wants to help us,” Kitty said softly. “That’s right, isn’t it?” she added as the three of them turned to look at her. Surprise was registered on all their faces, even Christopher’s.
Frank gave her a grateful smile. “Yes, that’s it exactly. I just — I wanted to help. A moment ago when I said that I’d taken pity on you, I was telling you the truth. The truth had to come out, even if it had to be forced.” He looked pleadingly at Jenna. “You can understand that, can’t you?”
She drew herself up. “No,” she said scornfully. “I can’t.”
Frank’s face fell.
She turned and lifted her son into her arms, then spoke over her shoulder. “We’re going home now, Frank. I don’t want to see you again. Ever.” She would call the police from the safety of her house, and let them deal with that cretin.
Another car was coming down the road toward them, driving fast. Driving too fast, Jenna thought. The car made a sharp right and pulled up next to hers. For a moment she had thought it would go straight into the river. “Jen?” she heard Adam’s voice say. Then his head appeared above the roof of the car. Her knees went weak, and she struggled to keep hold of Christopher.
“Adam,” she whispered, not caring that he couldn’t hear her. “You’re here. Thank God.”
As she moved toward him, she tuned into the fact that there were voices murmuring behind her. She heard Kitty say, “I understand what you were doing, Frank.”
Softly, he replied, “Thank you, Kitty.”
Jenna had just reached the car when the shot rang out.
She whirled around, letting Christopher slide to the ground and again pushing him behind her protectively. She stared. Her eyes wanted to deny what they were seeing.
At first, everything seemed normal. Frank and Kitty stood a few feet apart. Their postures were casual, like they were engaged in a friendly conversation. Then Frank looked down questioningly. His hand rose to his chest. Something dropped onto the grass. Frank stumbled backwards, then fell to the ground.
Jenna felt Adam’s hands on her shoulders, but she pulled away. And before she realized what she was doing, she felt herself running forward, kneeling down at Frank’s side. She took his hand in hers. It felt cold.
Jenna looked up at Kitty, into her shocked face. “What happened?” she asked tearfully. She saw the gun lying on the ground and suddenly felt as if she might throw up. “Did you….”
“I did it,” Frank said. His breathing was labored, painful, but he spoke strongly. “It’s my gun. I did it myself.”
“Why?”
“It’s all over for me, Jenna. I can’t take any more of this living. My head is full of holes, and the holes are full of despair. That’s what secrets do to you. The truth had to be told. You see that now, don’t you?”
A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Jenna tightened her grip on his hand. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, Frank. I see it now.”
“And did I help you?”
Even now, even in these final moments, she couldn’t give him what he asked for. She squeezed her eyes shut, searching inside for what to say. He saw her hesitation and chuckled ironically. “Still the bloodless savage, I see. Inflicting pain for the fun of it. All the lies you’ve told in your life, and you can’t bring yourself to tell me this one….”
“You scared me to death, Frank,” she whispered, unable to help herself. “You stole my son, for God’s sake.” She looked down at him, saw his eyes glazing over, saw the fear in his face as darkness gathered at the edges of his vision. She remembered how he had told her that life was futile and full of sorrow, and after the sorrow, there was death, and after death, there was nothing.
Panic overtook her. She couldn’t let him go like this. She leaned forward, gripping his hand in both of hers. “Frank, it wasn’t futile. I know you were trying to help.” She swallowed hard and said what she knew she had to say. “Thank you.”
His eyes rolled frantically, trying to focus on her face. “I’m going, Jen,” he announced, his voice still surprisingly strong. His eyes found hers and focused sharply, and she realized that he was really seeing her now. Now, and for the last time.
“You’re the finest person I ever knew,” he whispered. He smiled gently. “My Jen. My beautiful savage.”
His eyes drifted skyward. His gaze slipped off Jenna’s face, out of this world and to points beyond. And what he saw there, he could not say.
* * *
When Jenna could see that he was quite gone, she lay his hand over his heart, kissing his fingertips before she let them go. She pulled the scarf from around her neck and put it over his face.
She turned her head and saw Christopher, standing between Adam and Kitty, holding Kitty’s hand. His eyes were wide, staring at the dead man on the ground. Jenna’s heart twisted in anguish at the thought of what her son had just witnessed, something no child should ever have to see.
Or no adult, for that matter.
She stood up. Without a word, she scooped her son into her arms, and held him astride her hip. She put her arm around Kitty’s shoulders, and felt Kitty’s arm slide around her waist. Adam stood at her other side, his hand on her elbow.
The four of them headed for home.
Together.
EPILOGUE
“Think of all the beauty still left around you, and be happy.” — Anne Frank
Summer, 1957
THE BEACH WAS CROWDED AND THE day was hot. Humanity burbled through the sand and bobbed in the ocean. All around them, there was life.
Jenna lay on a beach blanket, listening to the babble of conversation and the roar of the waves tumble through her ears in a harmonious cacophony. The wind sweeping over her skin brought the clean, mineral smell of sal
t water. There was a stirring beside her, and the gentle tickle of fingers running down her side. She smiled and turned her head, lifting her sunglasses.
“Not here,” she said to Adam.
“Come on.” He grinned. He glanced around. “Nobody’s looking.”
“Everybody’s looking.” She struggled to keep the stern expression on her face. “Not here.”
“Fine.” He sat up and reached for the cooler. “But you owe me.”
He pulled out a bottle of Coke and the opener, popping the cap off before holding it out to her. “No, thanks,” she said.
Jenna sat up and stretched, feeling the hot sun on her browning shoulders. A few yards away, a plump little girl in a pink bathing suit scooped sand into a red bucket while her mother hovered nearby, trying to keep her baby clean. Jenna caught the mother’s eye and smiled. The woman returned the smile. Although they had only been there a few days, already their neighbors seemed like old friends.
“I wish Stella and Max were here,” Jenna said without thinking.
“Well, they’re taking Rose to New York this summer, so they’re having a good time too, don’t worry.” Adam glanced over her shoulder. “Besides, we have a pretty full house already, don’t we?”
Jenna turned and followed his gaze up the sand toward a cluster of houses that stood a little back from the beach. The sun glinted silver off the weathered siding and wide windows. On the deck of the house closest to them was a small party of people, chatting amicably. Jenna waved, and seven hands waved back at her.
Bill, Kitty, Maya, Fred, Joseph, Christopher, and Alexander sat around a large oval table, finishing lunch. Joseph and Christopher had already gone on to dessert, their lips purple from the Popsicles they were eating.
“I still can’t believe Alex agreed to come,” Jenna murmured.
Adam reached out and took her left hand, absently playing with the rings around her finger. “I still can’t believe you found a place where we can all stay together.”
