by Beth Flynn
“When I brought him back to his mother, I could hear my aunt telling her husband she was concerned. The woman was bleeding more than normal, and my aunt thought she should be taken to a hospital. The man left to drive to the closest neighbor and call an ambulance. I guess we thought an ambulance would’ve brought medical help quicker than if we tried to load her up in a car and drive her ourselves. My aunt would later tell me it didn’t matter. Her blood loss was so quick and so heavy it was doubtful she could’ve been saved.”
The holy sister took a big breath. “While the husband was gone, the mother regained consciousness and asked for her baby. We placed him in her arms and watched as she kissed his little head and spoke to him in a low voice. She looked up at my aunt then and in her very weakened state told us she wanted someone to know the truth about her baby.”
I sat up straighter in my chair. Sister Agnes’s voice was like a drug. I couldn’t hear the next word fast enough. I was taking in every syllable, every inflection in her voice, every detail. My heart was thumping so loudly I was certain the holy sisters could hear it beating in my chest.
“She told us she was raised in a little tiny town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. She’d been in love with the same boy since first grade. They’d made plans to be married when he was called away in the final draft for World War II. The same war I lost my husband in. She found herself pregnant and alone.” Sister Agnes sighed. “She lived with an elderly uncle, a nasty old man who would’ve kicked her out without a second thought. She’d written to her fiancé, and never received a reply. Neither she nor his family could find anything out about his whereabouts and before too long, her pregnancy would be noticeable.
“Well, back then, ‘nice girls’ didn’t have unmarried relations. At least, they weren’t supposed to. She was ashamed and embarrassed. In hindsight, she wished she’d have risked the shame and stayed there. Wished she’d confessed to his parents she was carrying their son’s baby. When the man who’d later become her husband passed through her town as part of a logging crew and showed some interest, she jumped. Even after she explained her situation, he didn’t care. I could understand that. She was a real beauty. She left with him and never went back.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I knew Grizz’s real mother had died in childbirth and that the man who’d raised him wasn’t his biological father. Could this be Grizz’s mother Sister Agnes was telling me about? Was I hearing about Grizz’s birth?
“How did the picture of Ruthie and Razor, which would’ve been taken years after this baby’s birth, come to be?” I was almost bouncing in my chair.
“I’ll get to that, child,” Sister Agnes said softly. “After she told us this story, she kissed her baby and, with her last breath, told us to tell her husband what she wanted him to be named. Although, she asked us not to tell him why. She wanted his first name to be her mother’s maiden name. It would be the only connection to her home and family that she could leave her baby boy. She died while holding him in her arms. I cried myself to sleep that night.
“I stayed with my aunt a little while longer after that and found myself driving out to the lonely farmhouse on occasion to check on that baby boy. When I finally decided what my calling was, I left my aunt, but asked her to keep checking on the family. She did for a while. I remember getting a letter from her telling me the baby had grown into a robust toddler with the brightest green eyes she’d ever seen. Brighter than the greenest grass on a spring morning.”
Grizz. I gasped then, and Sister Mary Katherine looked at me, eyes filled with concern. I respectfully shook my head.
“I’m sorry, Sister Agnes. Please finish.”
“Well, my aunt also said she had a bad feeling, that maybe the child was a bit neglected, but she hoped things would get better when he finally remarried. My aunt died, and I never went back to that farmhouse.” She paused. “That is, until 1956.”
“I’d joined the Catholic Church by then and taken my vows and had been living in different states. When I found myself back in Florida, I made it a point to visit that little house in Macon’s Grove. That’s when I came upon Ruthie and Razor playing in the front yard. I remember Razor growled at me as I approached, but little Ruthie shushed him. I asked if her mother was home, and she said she was in the back yard. I asked who she lived there with, and she told me she had a daddy and a brother. I’d wondered if her brother was the baby I’d delivered all those years ago. I asked his name, but Ruthie just called him Brother. She was a beautiful child, but there was something sad and distant in her eyes. It was only when I asked more about her brother that her little face lit up.
“Anyway, I always carried my camera, and I started taking pictures of them playing in the grass. Then her mother, who wasn’t a very nice woman, came barreling around the side of the house and told me to mind my own business. I tried to explain that I’d been to this house years earlier, and I was just checking to see how the family was doing. Well, she told me in words that a nun and a child should never have to hear what I could do with myself. And what business did I have taking pictures of her child? I apologized and said that if she told me her address, I would be sure to send her a picture after I had my film developed. Which I did. It was a picture similar to the one you’re holding. I mailed it off to her as soon as I had it developed.”
She sighed then. I could tell the story was wearing her out, but I wanted her to finish. As if sensing my desperation, she continued in a voice laced with sadness.
“To make a long story short, I was sent to India right after that. Many, many years later I came back to the states and found myself in Macon’s Grove once again. I found the house, but all traces of the family were long gone. I asked around town, and people said the family packed up and left town without telling a soul.” She shook her head. “Ruthie and Razor have been on my unanswered prayers table ever since. I guess I think of them as the only connection to the baby I once held. He didn’t have green eyes when I held him right after he was born, but I’ve been haunted by them nonetheless. I guess I was living off a memory that belonged to my aunt. That baby boy, that little girl, and her dog, they’ve all left an imprint on my soul that won’t go away. They are most definitely one of my unanswered prayers.”
A few silent minutes passed as what she’d told me sank in. I was waiting for the elderly nun to continue when I heard soft snores and realized she’d fallen asleep. I turned to Sister Mary Katherine.
“Sister, can I come back after she wakes up?”
“Of course, Guinevere. May I ask why?” she asked as we walked arm-in-arm to the door of Sister Agnes’s room.
I stopped and looked into her lined and intelligent face.
“Because I’m not sure, but I think you might be able to add Ruthie and Razor’s picture to Sister Agnes’s answered prayers drawer.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Tommy
2001, Fort Lauderdale
Tommy and Ginny walked hand-in-hand down Fort Lauderdale beach. It was winter in South Florida, but the hot afternoon sun warmed them as the gentle ocean breeze caressed their skin.
It was the weekend after Ginny was supposed to return home from her visit to Illinois. She’d called Tommy the previous Saturday night and told him she wanted to make another stop on her way back and wouldn’t be returning on Sunday like she’d originally planned. She’d then filled him in on everything she’d learned from Sister Agnes.
Tommy was disappointed, but he knew it was something she felt compelled to do, and he wouldn’t interfere. He rescheduled their special night on the beach. He’d been excited to tell her his news, but the reason for her change in travel plans had put a damper on his enthusiasm.
Now, he clenched her hand tightly in his and blurted out, “Grizz isn’t my father, Ginny.”
She froze. “What?”
“You heard me right, Gin. He’s not my father.”
“How could you possibly know this, Tommy? I mean, how can you know for su
re?”
Her voice sounded cautious but hopeful.
Tommy explained how he’d had his DNA compared to Mimi’s back in 1999. Or rather, what he thought was Mimi’s DNA. How he’d taken a pink toothbrush to his friend Dale. A toothbrush he’d mistakenly thought belonged to Mimi.
“So that pink toothbrush you took to your friend back in 1999 was Jason’s? And Dale confirmed the DNA was a match to yours?”
Tommy smiled. “Yes. And it was a match to mine, because it was Jason’s, but I didn’t know that. When I heard the kids talking about their toothbrushes right before the cruise. I grabbed the fork Mimi used that morning for breakfast and took it back to him. I would’ve known sooner, but my friend was in a serious car accident. Then with Christmas and New Year’s right after that, he couldn’t get to it. Anyway, he got back to me last week.” He squeezed Ginny’s hand. “He checked and double-checked, Gin—Mimi and I are not biological relatives. I know you were faithful to Grizz. Mimi is definitely his daughter. But I’m not his son. I’m not Mimi’s half-brother. I guess it’s a good thing we never got around to telling her.”
She squealed then and jumped on him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. The momentum caught him off guard, and they tumbled to the sand. He looked down at her and gently caressed her chin with his thumb. He brought his mouth to hers and softly kissed her. When he pulled away, she had a serious expression in her eyes.
“Your real father. Do you think you’ll ever want to find your real father, Tommy? I mean, you’ve told me your mother’s history. Would it even be possible for you to know who your real father might be?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m pretty sure I know who he is, Ginny.”
She blinked. “How? How could you know?”
He sat up then and placed his elbows on his knees as he faced the ocean. He could feel her sit up next to him, and she gently laid her head on his shoulder.
“The Internet is a pretty amazing thing, you know? Search engines and social media. If it had been around in the seventies, you’d have probably been found the same day Monster took you.”
She didn’t answer, just rubbed his back lightly as she continued to listen.
“When Dale told me my DNA didn’t match Mimi’s, I decided to do some digging and started searching for Candy’s mother, my grandmother. I probably should’ve done it years ago. It was easier than you might think. I found her, Ginny. She hasn’t gone very far. Lives in a little trailer park just north of West Palm Beach. I took a drive up there this past week, and I didn’t even have to introduce myself. She knew me. Recognized me. Or rather, she recognized someone else.”
“Who?” Ginny lifted her head off Tommy’s shoulder and stared at him. He could feel her eyes boring into him.
“It’s not pretty. It’s not a good story. Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes, Tommy. I want to know.” Her answer was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her over the sounds of the crashing waves on the beach.
“I need to tell you some background first, Gin. I need to tell you the rest of Grizz’s story. What he told me when I saw him before he died. You already know about his childhood and his little sister. You know he killed his family after his little sister died.”
She nodded.
“There’s more.”
He then proceeded to tell her the rest of Grizz’s story—about them, and the layers upon layers of deception—leaving nothing out.
She sat back and looked at him, eyes wide with disbelief. It explained everything. Now she knew why Grizz had rejected her. Why he’d insisted on her marriage to Tommy.
Before she could say anything, he returned his gaze to the ocean and continued.
“You’re an intelligent woman, Gin. He could’ve trusted you with the truth, but believe it or not, I understand why he didn’t. It’s some pretty heavy shit. It’s the reason we read books and watch movies. To escape into a world that’s not real. Unfortunately, a lot of what we see and read is all too real, and Grizz’s story, no matter how strange it might sound, is the truth. At least he believed it was the truth.”
He paused and carefully weighed the significance of his next words. “But now that he’s dead, it’s a non-issue. It was probably a non-issue for them long before he was executed. They never wanted to hurt you. They just wanted to hurt him for blackmailing them for so many years.”
He looked at her then and waited for her to say something. Anything.
He knew what he needed to hear. This would be the defining moment in their marriage. It all boiled down to the next words that would be coming out of her mouth. He was holding his breath.
Would she say them?
She swallowed thickly and looked into her husband’s eyes. She knew she was being tested. He needed her to validate her real feelings for him, and the only way she could do it was with the truth. And she was certain he knew—or at least had guessed.
“Thank God. Thank God you know, Tommy. I never wanted to tell you because it was pointless as far as I was concerned.” After all the talk of lies and secrets she’d convinced herself that what Tommy didn’t know was best for him. She had been a hypocrite.
The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
“He’s not dead.”
His sigh of relief was audible. He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair and whispering in her ear.
“Thank you. Thank you for telling me the truth, Gin.”
They sat on the beach, wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling safe and secure in the comfort of their love.
After a minute, she pulled away and tilted her head slightly as she looked at him.
“How did you know?”
“I suspected it when Axel paid me for the cars and bikes. I figured out Grizz’s favorite bike wasn’t in the garage. I thought about the story he told me. I thought that if anyone could pull a stunt like that, it would be Grizz.”
He asked her how she’d found out and how long she’d known. She told him about the day she went to clean out Carter’s garage and had planned on returning the blue bandana to Grizz’s bike before she sold it.
“A story like the one I just told you is something you read in fictional suspense novels.” He looked at her questioningly. “You don’t seem surprised by it.”
“I guess it’s because I’m not surprised by it. Think about it, Tommy. Think about some of the Bible studies we’ve done or what we see in the news every day. I’m not shocked to learn there are forces, real people, out there running things behind the scenes. Or at least trying to run things. If Grizz was able to pull off a fake execution, why would the existence of this group surprise me?”
“And it doesn’t scare you? What’s happening behind the scenes?”
She looked at him seriously and gave a small smile.
“I know where my faith is, Tommy.”
He nodded and smiled. His Ginny. So steadfast and strong in her faith. He loved her to the core of his being.
But he also knew he needed to bring up one more thing. He’d thought long and hard about this after she postponed her trip home. He didn’t want to do it, but he knew he had to. It was going against everything he fought for, but it was also the only way he could see a future with her without the shadow of Grizz lurking in their lives.
It was the only way to find peace.
“So what did you do with the bandana?” The hope in his eyes pierced her heart.
She smiled at him and told him the truth.
“I threw it in the garbage that same night, Tommy. It’s gone.”
She knew he believed her. His grin was so wide she thought his face would crack. He stood then and pulled her up to him.
Taking his face in her hands, he told her, “I want you to promise me something.”
“Of course! Anything, Tommy.”
“When we’re finished with our little getaway, we need to stop at the store on our way home.”
“A shopping trip? You know how much I hate to shop, T
ommy, but a promise is a promise,” she teased. “What are we buying?”
She snuggled into his chest, arms tightly wrapped around him. She could feel his chin resting on her head.
And gasped at his next words.
“We need to buy another blue bandana. I want you to wear it.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ginny
2001, Fort Lauderdale
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I pulled away from Tommy and looked at him. My brows knitted in concentration as I tried to make sense of his last sentence.
“You want me to what?”
He didn’t answer me right away as a small family made their way past us and continued happily down the beach. I placed my hands on my hips and waited for his reply.
“I want you to signal Grizz. I want you to wear it.”
“Have you lost your mind?” I glared at him. “After everything you just told me? You want me to see him?”
My eyes narrowed as another thought occurred to me.
“Is this a trick, Tommy? Are you using me to lure him out? So someone can actually kill him?”
Without giving him time to answer, I started marching back toward our hotel. I could feel him close at my heels. He grabbed me by the elbow, swung me around to face him.
“Absolutely not, Gin. That’s not why.”
His expression was so sincere, I was caught by surprise. I waited for him to continue. He looked up at the sky and shook his head slightly.
“I can’t do it anymore, Ginny. I don’t want to do it anymore, honey. You need to have Grizz come to you so you can figure out your heart.”
“I know my heart!” I shouted it so loud some birds scattered. He wouldn’t look at me. “I know my heart, Tommy. It’s here, with you.” I couldn't believe he was asking me to wear the bandana. Was Tommy purposely sabotaging the progress we'd made? And if so, why? My heart ached at the possibility and my sense of disappointment was acute.
