“Yep. Sure did. She was a teller for me from 1989 until the late nineties.”
“Did you know the Banks family well?”
“Sure. I guess. Joan wasn’t my sort of woman. I’m a church-going kind of guy, and Joan was one who enjoyed the nightlife, so to speak. There was a little bar around the corner from the bank, and she used to go there a lot with coworkers after work. No wonder her daughter turned up pregnant.”
Gennie gasped, then put her hand over her mouth. “He’s gotten to Harry. There isn’t one ounce of truth to anything he just said. My mother never touched a drop of liquor when I was young. She always came straight home and made dinner and helped me with homework. That’s just ridiculous.”
“This story Gennie’s concocted is a doozy,” continued Harry. “A real doozy. Falsely accusing Rick Murphy who’s served this great state of Wisconsin all his life. Well, that’s just wrong.”
“Turn it off. I can’t hear any more,” Gennie said.
The front door opened and slammed. Her mother, still wearing pajamas and a sleep mark across her cheek, appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. “Did you see that idiot, Harry?” She glanced at Stefan and blushed. “Sorry to barge in like this.”
“It’s all right. These are special circumstances,” Stefan said. “I’ll make us some coffee.”
Her mother sank into the chair in the corner. “I can’t believe Harry would do this to us.”
“I always thought he was in love with you back then,” Gennie said.
“He was. He made a pass at me one time during a Christmas party. Too much eggnog, but I just made a joke of it and sent him off to find his wife.”
“He’s a man scorned,” called Stefan from the other room.
“Or, Murphy paid him off,” Gennie said. “I’m sorry, Mom. Did you see the three clowns they had on before him?”
“All lies, but people won’t know that. I don’t want anyone thinking these things about you, Gennie girl.”
* * *
Stefan came back in the room with two steaming mugs of coffee and handed one to her mom. He set the other on the bedside table next to Gennie.
“Thank you, dear. I’m flabbergasted by Harry. We worked together for years and years. He knew me well, and Stefan, I can assure you I’ve spent almost no time in bars, and I certainly would never have neglected my daughter any more than I had to by working thirty miles away from our home.” She sipped her coffee and sighed. “This is maddening.”
She looks so defeated. I hate him. I will kill you, Rick Murphy, before I allow you to hurt the people I love any more than you already have.
“Harry knew you interviewed with Murphy when you were fifteen. I bragged about it night and day for a month. He knows the truth, and yet he’s lying.”
“For money,” Stefan said. “Murphy’s behind all of this.”
“Gennie, I think I should go on one of the talk shows and explain how it really was. I don’t care what they say about me, but painting you as some hussy who ended up pregnant is just too much.”
“But you hate being on camera,” Gennie said. “I can do another interview. The Today Show has reached out several times. Trix could arrange it easily.”
“No. I want to do it. Even if no one believes the truth, I’ll feel better having said my piece. Call Trix, sweetie, and see if she can get me on one of the morning shows. Tell her I’ll fly wherever the interview is.”
After her mother left, Gennie took a deep breath and turned to Stefan. “I hope Grant gets that paternity test court mandated sooner rather than later.”
“He will. Don’t worry. You’ll have your chance to show the world what a liar Rick Murphy is.”
Later, Gennie went outside for a walk. The weather remained clear and cold. She lifted her face to the sky, the sunlight warm on her face despite the freezing temperatures. Thin branches, bare of leaves, dipped low under the weight of ice. Snow crunched under her boots as she walked toward the path down to the river. At the beginning of the trail, she stopped, surprised to see trampled grass, flat and frozen, leading down to the river. Someone had cleared the path.
She trekked down the mountain with care. After a few minutes, she reached the river. During the summer months, a sandy beach and a deep pool made the perfect spot for swimming. Now, shrubs bowed under the weight of snow and cloaked the sand in white. A layer of ice coated the shallow edges of the water. Swift current, sparkling under the sun, carried bits of logs and twigs. She knelt, touching the icy edges of the river with her gloved fingers. Thin, it cracked under her fingers, broke apart, and floated into deeper water. She sat on her haunches, gazing across the river. A winter sparrow hopped between reedy branches.
What was she to do? How should she maneuver through these curves of unexpected turmoil? Dropped from two films. Murphy’s doing. Regardless, it hurt to hear the studio head’s excuses. Younger and cheaper. Telling the truth had sealed her fate. She could be finished. There would be someone in her twenties, prettier and less expensive, to take her place. In no time at all, she would be forgotten.
She’d built her career on ingénue roles, but she was approaching an age where she would no longer be suited for the pretty love interest. Although not terribly interesting, those films were lucrative, giving her the opportunity to do an independent film when she wanted. It was the smaller films, like the one they’d just wrapped with Richard, that had earned her two Oscar nominations and one win. None of which counted to the big studio executives. They wanted her for romantic comedy roles and to look pretty. She was guaranteed to bring in big money. People loved these films, and they loved her in them.
She sat on a rock. The sun warmed the back of her head. All her adult life, she’d focused on work, knowing that actresses were like football players. The public loved you when you were twenty but were done with you by the time you turned forty. She’d done films back to back, hardly taking a break since she got her first big role at twenty-one. Perhaps it was time to pull back, only do projects that touched her soul.
I am not just my work. And yet, aside from her mom and Bella, there hadn’t been much else to her life. The work had saved her. She escaped inside each story so she didn’t have to face the pain. Art had redeemed her. Commercial films had made her rich. Who am I if I don’t work?
Luck had played a large factor in her acting career, along with physical attributes that people found appealing. These were simply good fortunes, not the essence of who she really was. What had she done that mattered to others? Making Sarah, giving her life, when it could have been easier to make the other choice. Who did she want to be for the remainder of her life? Just an actress? Just her work? No, she wanted a richer life, one filled with people she loved. This was what made a life, not the work, the money, the fame. It was the quality of relationships that delivered joy. The small moments with people I love. This is what I’ll remember at the end.
Sarah’s journey was just starting. She had the right to be happy and free. Whatever the cost, Gennie had to pay it. I will fight for the people I love. Love is stronger than hate. The darkest of nights still become morning. The sun comes back around with hot rebellion.
Firs rustled in the wind. The river gurgled. She plunged her gloved hands into the fallen snow and formed a ball. She hurled the snowball into the river and, surviving in the icy water, it bobbed in the vigorous current, drifting farther and farther away until she could no longer see it. The snap of a tree branch from across the river diverted her attention. An elk, with enormous antlers, stood between two trees, staring at her. She rose to her feet, reaching out her hand as if the river were not between them. Daddy, is it you?
A vision, as swift as the river’s current, seized her. Like Venus rising, a little girl, naked and shivering, emerged from the snow, covering her chest and private parts with her arms. Gennie knew the big brown eyes and nose dotted with freckles. She’s me. I’m eight years old. The year Daddy died.
The girl’s voice was sad, but urgent. You gave him all
our power. You allowed him to ruin us.
“No, he did this. He ruined us,” Gennie said. “He stole our innocence.”
Don’t let him steal your future. What happened was not our fault, but if you continue to shun life, he continues to win. You must let go of the past, accept the pain, but live without fear. Do not let him win. Fight for us, Gennie. Fight for Stefan. Choose us. Choose to live. Choose love.
“Yes,” she whispered. As quickly as it had come, the image disappeared. She looked back to the elk, but he, too, had vanished.
She knelt in the snow, wrapping her arms around her knees until she was round like a bulb. For only a moment more, she allowed herself to be confined in dormancy as she wept for the years he stole from her. She mourned every moment of those wasted days and did not turn away from the sadness or agony or regret, but let it seep into her and through her. The horror of what happened would always be there, but it was not the sum of her. I am not fear, hate’s companion. I am love. I am rising. When her sobs ceased, she dried her eyes, and like a tulip inching out of the soil to seek the sun, she rose, little by little, reaching upward to the merciful sky, all the while tilting her face to bask in the light.
Chapter 10
Trix arranged for Gennie’s mother to appear on the Today Show for the following day. Blair had arranged a late afternoon flight and hired a bodyguard to accompany her on the trip, along with a retired NYC police officer to guard her hotel room. There was no way Gennie was letting her go out there without protection. Gennie knocked on her mother’s bedroom door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes, come in, honey. I’m trying to figure out what to wear tomorrow.”
This guestroom, smaller than Sarah’s, was decorated in soft blues with black furniture. A long shag rug covered the hardwood floor. An open suitcase was on the end of the bed, with several pieces of clothing haphazardly packed. Gennie sat on the hardback chair in the corner of the room.
Her mom held up a red dress. “How about this one? Red’s a power color, right? Will it wash me out? I’m too old to go on television.”
“The red one’s fine. They’ll have a makeup person who will make sure you look good under the lights. Plus, you look great.”
Her mother threw a pair of boots into the suitcase. “Boots are good, right?”
“Sure. Mom, stop for a moment. I want to tell you something.”
Her mother halted near the bed. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to thank you for everything. All the sacrifices you made for me, how you took care of me when everything happened. I don’t know if I’ve ever thanked you enough.”
“Oh, Gennie girl, you’ve done so much for me. How could you say that? I’m spoiled rotten.”
“I love being able to do things for you, Mom. That’s been the greatest part of all the success.”
“You’ve always been the sweetest girl in the world.” Her mother crossed the room, putting her hands on the sides of Gennie’s face. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too. I’m worried about sending you to New York. If anything happened to you…I can’t even think about it.”
Her mother perched on the edge of the bed. “Do you remember what I was like right after your dad died?”
“Kind of. I’ve blanked a lot of it out.”
“I was grieving, of course, but I was also really, really mad. At God. At the drunk driver. I was even angry at your father, like he chose to die and leave me alone. My first reaction to something traumatic is anger. I don’t know why. And, right now I’m angry as heck, which means I should channel it and go after Murphy. He hurt my little girl, and I’m telling you right now, he will pay for it. I will not rest until he does.”
“Mom, I’m scared for you,” Gennie said.
She jumped from the bed and started putting more items into the suitcase. “I need to take this trip and set the record straight, or I’ll go crazy. I’m so filled with anger, I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to kill him with my bare hands.”
“You might have to fight Stefan for that privilege.”
“Stefan Spencer is a fine, fine man.” She tossed another pair of pants into the suitcase. “You’re more yourself with him than when you were with Moody. Moody wasn’t suited for you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, you’re a little bit country, and he’s all rock and roll.”
Gennie laughed. “A little bit country? Really?”
Her mom tossed a pair of tights into her bag. “You’re a small-town girl at heart.”
“I am?”
“For sure. No one knows a person like her mother.”
“What do you think about buying some land here? We could build a house. I could live here, at least part of the time. We could keep the beach house too.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. And for the record, I also think Stefan’s the catch of the century, and he’s suited to you. He’s a little bit country, just like you.”
“I’m so crazy about him, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to give him what he needs. Look at what happened with Moody.”
“Honey, being intimate is more than just sex. Being vulnerable to someone, telling them about your dark places, is as close as one can get to another person.”
“We do have that together.”
“It is definitely true that sleeping next to a person is intimate. You have to worry about morning breath and bedhead.”
They laughed as her mom crossed the room and took Gennie’s face in her hands. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
“The work has made me enormously gratified.”
Her mom sighed, looking away with a sad expression. “Yes, but it isn’t all there is to life. It would be nice to share it with someone you love. I know it’s not easy to be alone.”
“Why haven’t you ever remarried?”
“It’s impossible to expect to find the kind of love I had with your father twice in a lifetime.”
“But you’re lonely. I know you are, especially when I’m gone for such long periods.”
“No, I’m fine. I have yoga and my work at the hospital.” She volunteered several times a week to hold sick babies, usually because their mothers were addicted to crack when they were born, or to do special things for the kids in the children’s wings. “And, I have my book club. I love those ladies. Do you know last week we stayed up until midnight talking and laughing?”
Her mom went back to packing. Movement outside the window caught Gennie’s attention. A branch swayed, dumping snow. It was a squirrel, hopping trees.
“And now, my love, I have a plane to catch. Operation take down Rick Murphy’s in full swing.”
“The bodyguard I’ve hired will stay by your side the entire time. I’ve also hired a retired NYC police officer to guard your hotel door tomorrow night.”
“I hope it won’t be necessary, but it will help me sleep at night to know he’s out there.” A knock on the bedroom door drew their attention away from each other. “Come in.”
Sarah came inside the room, wearing a button-down jean shirt and sweatpants. “Hey, Tommy’s here to take you to the airport.” Sarah grabbed the luggage, and they all went out to the yard where Tommy was waiting, chatting with Stefan.
“You all set, Joan?” Tommy asked
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She gave a quick hug to Sarah and then a longer one to Gennie. “Pray for me.”
“We will,” Sarah said.
“Just be careful, Mom.”
“I won’t leave her side until she’s with the bodyguard,” Tommy said.
They stood in the driveway, watching the car disappear around the corner. Sarah squinted in the sunlight. “Gennie, how do you know if the bodyguard can be trusted?”
“He’s from an agency I’ve used for years,” Gennie said.
“But you don’t know him?”
“Most likely, no.”
“Murphy’s gotten to a lot of people,” Sa
rah said.
“I didn’t even think about it,” Gennie said. “Stefan?”
Stefan glanced down the driveway, then stomped his feet. “Come inside. It’s cold out here. It’ll be fine.” He hesitated. He’s worried too.
After fretting for a few more minutes, she texted Tommy. Please make sure the guard seems legit. I’m worried Murphy may have gotten to him.
No reply. He’s driving. They’re fine.
Stefan reassured her with a tap on her arm. “Tommy will make sure she’s safe.”
Sarah shuffled into the main house, while Gennie and Stefan walked hand in hand toward the guest cottage. When they were inside, her phone buzzed with a text from Blair. Call me ASAP.
She called right away, bracing herself. What else has happened?
“Gennie, you’re not going to believe this. In the last hour, two women left messages here at your office number, asking if they could speak with your assistant. They said they had urgent messages regarding Rick Murphy. I called them both back and they had the same story. They were raped by Rick Murphy too. They’re going public this afternoon, but they wanted you to know first. I have their numbers if you want to talk to them.”
Legs shaking, she sat at the desk in the sitting room. “Yes, please text me their names and numbers. I’ll call them now.”
Her phone buzzed almost immediately. She clicked on the first woman’s number: Beverly Tuttle with a Wisconsin area code. A woman answered on the second ring, sounding breathless. After thanking Gennie for calling, she launched into her story. “I know you’re busy and I don’t want to keep you, so I’ll keep it short.” A nice Wisconsin girl, always polite, never wanting to make a fuss.
“When I was a sophomore in college, I accepted an internship with his campaign. We worked out of his home office. I worked in this little office with one other intern, Dirk. The day it happened, Dirk had a dentist appointment and left early. Otherwise, we usually walked out to our cars together.” Beverly paused and cleared her throat before continuing. “Murphy must have waited for the day when Dirk went home early. As soon as he left, Murphy trapped me in my office. That’s where it happened.”
The River Valley Series Page 94
