“Jud, I’m sorry. I know. I’m sorry.” Grant gets up from the floor, holding his hands up in surrender.
Sighing, I run my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe this is happening. Why? Why did this have to happen?”
Grant stares at me for a long moment. I notice then, that he has been crying. This is hurting him too, he loved my children as if they were his own. My wife was one of his best friends.
“I don’t know, Jud. I don’t know why this happened today.” I find his use of the word “today” odd, but I let it go as he continues speaking, “You can stay with me, as long as you need.”
I can see he’s trying to be strong for me. I love him for it, but right now, it’s not what I care about. I can’t worry for him and how he feels when I’m too raw with my own emotions right now. I just nod in response to his question. I turn back to Shannon, taking her hand again. I don’t know how to even describe how I feel. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this new reality. My wife and children are dead. I have no one left. I can’t even give my children a proper goodbye because they say there was nothing left to identify them, save for some teeth.
“I’ll be in the waiting room when you’re ready to leave,” Grant says, but I don’t respond.
I pull over a chair and just stare at my wife. My reason for living is gone. I should just end my suffering and be with my family. I nod a minuscule amount and decide I will do that but I need to at least give her a proper burial before I join her. I stand, kissing her once more.
“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
I turn and leave the room to find Grant leaning against the wall on his phone. I don’t even have it in me to care anymore. I don’t even know why I have this irrational hate for the device, but right now, I hate everyone and everything.
The next week is a blur. Shannon’s parents help with the funeral planning. My family steps in to help me with the insurance and legal work for my home and anything that remained from it. The only thing left untouched was my fireproof safe. Inside was all our important papers, but also photos of the family, the kid’s birth, parties, silly things they did, and all our family portraits. But, as nice as it is to have those, it does nothing to ease the gut wrenching pain in my chest.
The funeral itself is … difficult. There’s no other way to explain it. The sorrow is so deep, so earth shattering, I can only take one-second at a time. Seeing three caskets, two empty save for the stuffed animals, photos, and cards people brought. I can’t stand to look at them. My children should be in there, but there wasn’t anything left but ash. Actually, none of this should be happening at all. My kids should be at school or playing in our front yard. This isn’t fair. They had their whole lives ahead of them. I can’t say that I handled the service well. I spend most of the time crying or staring off into space. People talk to me, but I don’t hear anything. I answer questions and respond to condolences as best I can. But honestly, I want them all to leave me alone.
A few days after the funeral and over a week of sleeping on Grant’s couch, I decide that I’m not going to kill myself. The more I thought about it, the more I recognized that it would be a dishonor to my family, my wife, and my children to end my life. I grab the few things I have and head to the office. Kate looks up at me startled.
“Judson, how are you?” she asks. I know she’s just being nice and I’m sure she’s worried about me. I just can’t find it in me to care.
I ignore the question. “Grant in?”
“Yes, in his office.” I nod and head right in, not bothering to knock.
“Jud, what’re you doing here?”
“I’m leaving. I thought you should know. I think you should have Clay help you run the business. I spoke to him this morning on the way here. He’s already a silent partner so it would make sense for him to step up. I just can’t be here right now.”
“Where will you go?”
“Oak Grove. I’m going to finish my cabin.”
Grant nods. “What about Holts and Smith?”
“If they want me to make the furniture, I can do that. Just send me all the items they want in an email. I’ll keep in touch. I won’t have internet for a week or so, but I’ll have my cell and the service is good enough.”
“You’ve thought this out?”
“I have. I can’t be here, surrounded by all the things that remind me of them. I need to be alone, I need to get away.”
“Okay. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’ll call Clay and set up a meeting. I’ll keep you posted and I’ll send you your check monthly, just like we do now. It’s a leave of absence. We’ll deal as best as we can.”
“If something comes up you can’t handle, call me, but otherwise I don’t want to be bothered with the day-to-day activities. You and Clay can manage that.”
“I wish I could change your mind. Just be careful, okay? Call me if you need someone to just talk to. I’m here for you.” I can tell he doesn’t agree with my choice, but I’m glad he’s respecting my wishes.
“Thanks. Just email me with the details I need for the furniture. I’ll send you back a price list. We’ll go from there.”
“I will. Bye, Jud.”
He stands and comes around the desk. We hug, then I turn and leave. I don’t look back, I can’t. I have to get out of here. I can’t even bear to go into my office. There’s too much in there that reminds me of them. I jump into my truck and head to my hometown of Oak Grove. Hopefully, I can find some peace while there.
Chapter Five
Judson
One Year Post Fire
My move to Oak Grove wasn't easy. I thought it would be an escape, a break from the daily reminders I had around Brantsville, but I was wrong. The first thing I saw upon my arrival to the cabin was a toy Josie had forgotten. She’d spent several sleepless nights wanting it, but I didn’t have time to drive back up here for it; I’d promised her I’d come get it after my business trip. I wish I could go back and change that for her. I wish I could have taken two hours and driven up here, it would have been worth it to make her happy.
They say there are five stages of grief, but I don’t think I’ve gone through them all. I’m stuck on anger. Anger at everything and everyone I know. My parents came up to the cabin every other day for months, even though I begged them not to bother. Now, a year later, they come up once a month, that is, if my dad isn’t dragging my drunken self out of the local bar. I think the owner has him on speed dial, which is probably true since the owner of the bar, Chris Mooney, and my father have been friends since I was a kid.
My life sucks; plain and simple. I’m absolutely miserable and nothing can change that. There’s nothing that will bring my wife and kids back to me. There’s nothing that will ever make this empty hole in my chest go away. I suppose I have to move past the anger into acceptance, but I can’t bring myself to do that.
I’m outside chopping firewood when I hear tires coming up my long drive way. I groan. My parents were just here on Monday, given that it’s Wednesday, they shouldn’t be coming back so soon. I swing the axe one last time, splitting the log down the middle, before leaving it in the woods to see who has come to bother me. As I round the corner, I see a blue Honda I don’t recognize.
“Can I help you?” I ask the man who is walking up my front steps. He jumps and turns towards me.
“Hi. Yes, I’m looking for Judson Hardenbergh.”
“That’s me.”
“This is for you.” He hands me an eight by ten sized envelope and starts to walk off. I look down at the package; only my name is listed on the front.
“Hey, who’s this from?”
“I don’t have that information, sir. My boss told me to bring it here. That’s all I know.”
“Who’s your boss?”
“I work for Owens Courier Services, sir, but they aren’t affiliated with the packages we deliver. It’s a private company, anyone can hire us. We just need the package to be delivered, name of th
e recipient, and address.” He says this as though it’s something he’s had to recite multiple times.
“Thanks,” I say, holding up the envelope.
I open the package as the guy pulls away. Inside, I find a letter addressed to me from Costal Genetics Company. What in the world? The more I read the contents, the sicker I feel. I can’t believe this! Unable to stand any longer, I sit down on my porch steps. As if my life isn’t miserable enough, now I get a letter stating that my children aren’t biologically mine. After several long minutes, I look at the letter again. There’s a number, so I decide to call. I need a starting point, I need more information.
“Coastal Genetics, this is Amber speaking. How my I assist you today?”
“Amber, this is Judson Hardenbergh. I just received a letter, by courier, from your company. It says that my children aren’t a biological match to myself. I think there must be some mistake. I know I’ve never ordered testing like this.”
“Okay, sir. Let me check into that for you. Is there an account number?” I give her all the information and wait on hold for fifteen minutes before she comes back on the line. “Sir, I’ve found your records. I’m very sorry it took so long to get to you. It appears that a Shannon Hardenbergh submitted samples for testing. The document was supposed to be mailed out six years ago, but because of some office issues, some of our files were lost. In our recent move, we’ve uncovered several documents that we’ve had to hand deliver to recipients. I know it’s not a lot of help, but we sincerely apologize for the oversight.”
I snort indigently. “Oversight! It’s been six years. That’s ridiculous! Are you sure that she was testing them against me for paternity?
“Yes, sir. It says here Judson Thomas Hardenbergh, SS# 342-65-5879. Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“If you’d like to resubmit samples for testing, we’d gladly do them for free.”
I blow out a breath. “I can’t do that. My children died in a fire a year ago.”
“Oh, my. I’m so sorry.”
“I guess that’s all I need.”
“Again, I’m sorry for the delay. It’s totally inexcusable and if there is anything else we can help you with, in regard to this matter, please don’t hesitate to call.”
“Thanks.” I hang up without further acknowledgment.
This is insane. What kind of company mails you results of a paternity test over half a decade later? Did Shannon cheat on me? I can’t imagine her doing something like that. Maybe the infertility clinic screwed up? I rush into the house and grab my fireproof box, with all the important documents. I’ve not touched it since it was retrieved from my house. I find the infertility clinic info and call them explaining the situation, but they have nothing to offer, other than according to their records everything was fine. Of course if there was a mistake, I’m sure they wouldn’t confess it.
A picture of my children catches my eye. I pick it up almost falling down on the sofa. Why have I never seen this before? I dig through the photos, pulling out another photo, one of myself with my family and Grant. Grant is kneeling on the ground between the kids, one on each side of him. They look so much like him. Why have I never seen this before? The shape of his face, the same blue eyes, and the same blonde hair. How could he do this to me? I knew he joked around about having the ‘hots’ for Shannon, but I always thought it was a joke. They never acted in any way that would suggest that they’d been together. Was it a one-time thing? Was it still going on when she died?
Anger fills every cell in my body. I grab my keys and set off for Brantsville. It takes me forty-five minutes to get there. I sling gravel in the parking lot of J&G as I pull up to the front door. I jump out of my truck and rush into the building. Kate startles and says something, but I pay her no attention as I march right into Grant’s office. He’s on the phone. He looks shocked to see me and quickly hangs up. I don’t stop or hesitate. I pick him up by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall behind his desk.
“Did you sleep with my wife?” I yell.
“What? Jud, let me go. What’re you doing?” I shove him hard and let go. He gasps out in pain, but stays on his feet. “Why would you ask me that? What’s going on?”
I grab the letter from my back pocket and throw it at him. “This happened. Apparently, Shan had a paternity test done against the kids and me. I’m not their father.”
“What? That’s insane. I swear, I’d never do something like that to you.”
He looks sincere, but I can’t get over the fact they look like him. I pull the picture of him with them out of my pocket and toss it on the desk.
“Explain how they both look just like you.” He flinches as a wave of hurt crosses his face.
He pushes the photo away. “No, they look like Shannon’s dad. Dave has blonde hair and blue eyes.”
That’s right, he does. So does Shannon’s brother. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just got that letter and kind of went mad. Who could it have been?”
“How do you even know this is real? I mean, what if someone is just messing with you?”
“What’s the point? I already lost them. Why drive another nail in my coffin?”
I rest my head in my hands and pull at my hair. I stay and talk to Grant for about an hour. We eat lunch and talk shop. I have another furniture order due for Holts and Smith in a couple of weeks and they’ll be placing another order soon. Business is good, it’s the only thing decent I have going on in my life right now.
Two Years Post Fire
After the day I got the paternity test from Coastal Genetics, things spiraled downhill for me. For the past year, the only solace I have is my woodwork and drinking. I’d never been much of a drinker until the accident. Now, I seem to be drunk more than sober. I often end up at the town bar until they kick me out. At first, my dad would come get me and take me home, but that eventually stopped. I don’t blame him; he shouldn’t have to see me like that. I know my parents are gravely disappointed in me, but I can’t find it in myself to care enough to change. I’ve let everything go, my hair and beard are long, and my hygiene is questionable. The only thing I do without fail is keep my house clean. I put a lot of work into making it everything that we’d planned and even though it seems that Shannon either cheated on me or there was a mistake at the infertility clinic, that doubt of not knowing for sure keeps me from ignoring the housework. It feels disrespectful to my wife.
Every day, I stare at the picture of Grant and my kids, and everyday I’m more convinced he’s lying to me. I’ve not brought it up again, because I want to believe him. I don’t want it to be true, but there’s this niggling doubt in my gut that tells me it’s him. I may never know, but either way, I’ll never get over the fact that my children aren’t really mine.
After a day of working on furniture for Holts and Smith, I head down to the local bar, Mooney’s. It’s not a seedy type of a place, although, most of the town’s drunks hang out there almost every night. I try to only go once or twice a week, but this week it’s been every night.
“Jud,” Alaina says as I take my usual seat.
I’ve known Laney, as everyone calls her, since high school. We even dated for a little while. I was in tenth grade, she was in ninth. I can’t even remember why we broke up. I think our relationship was just one of those childhood puppy love crushes more than anything else.
“Laney,” I return her greeting.
My plan is not to get so drunk I can’t walk myself back up the road to my house, but most of my plans these days end up not working for me. She hands me the usual whiskey then turns to wait on another customer. After a while, she comes back over to me.
“Another?” she asks and I nod. “You shouldn’t drink so much.”
I snort. “Keeps you in a job, doesn’t it?”
“I’d rather not have the work than to watch you slowly killing yourself. This is the fourth night in a row you’ve been in here.”
I stare at my drink for a while. Laney speaks he
r mind. I like and hate that about her. “Heard your brother was back in town.” I change the subject.
“He is. So is Shayla.”
Shayla Thorn. I haven’t heard that name in forever. I always felt bad for her. She was in Laney’s grade, sweet girl with a troubled life. My folks knew hers pretty well, so the four of us, Ryan, Laney, Shayla, and I all hung out quite a bit. I remember my parents, my mom especially, crying for days after the deaths of James and Hannah Larson. My parents even tried to get custody of Shayla so she’d be close to the Thorns while they got their approvals, but it never worked out.
“Why’s she back?”
Laney fills my glass again. “Her husband left her. So she and her son moved here.”
“That’s right, I forgot she got knocked up in high school. Hey, can you get me some wings.”
Laney cocks an eyebrow at me. “Only, if you promise not to throw them up on me … again.”
I chuckle. “I’ll do my best.”
She places my order. “Don’t say ‘knocked up’, it’s so … disrespectful. They were in love, it wasn’t a one night stand.”
“Who’s they?”
“Ryan and Shayla.”
I look at her puzzled for a moment. “You mean Ryan is her kid’s dad?”
“Yep, which makes me his aunt. So you better be nice.” She smacks me with the bar towel and I grin at her.
“I’m always nice.”
“Yeah, it was real nice when you fired me.” I turn to my left and see Ralph Clark, ex-employee of J&G, and a real pain in my side.
“You were stealing lumber from my company. Did you think I’d be okay with that?”
“I weren’t stealin’ nothin’. I was borrowin’ it for a customer.”
“They never paid you for it, that’s still stealing. Not that it matters now. You’re drunk more than you’re sober.”
“So are you.” He smirks as he walks away.
“You’re not like him.” I look up at Laney and smile. I know she’s just trying to make me feel better, but she’s wrong. I am like him. I’m a drunk and a disgrace to my family.
Penance (Oak Grove Suspense Book 2) Page 5