by Gayle Hayes
When the Mass ended, Phyllis and Carole took turns at the podium to speak about their friendship with Harold.
"I met Babe when he brought his mother to the medical center with a fractured arm. She'd been working in her garden and slid down the hill with her arms full of vegetables. We had a lot of good times over the next forty years. Too many for one eulogy. One of those times that meant so much to me was when he brought me a bouquet of roses to wish me well. I bought the Buffalo Jump Inn after spending most of my adult life as a nurse. He said he admired me for taking a risk. I always went to Babe with all of my legal questions. Mostly, I enjoyed his company. He was a kind man, honestly concerned about others, one helluva good gardener, and he could be very funny. I'm going to miss him a lot. This town will miss him, too. Rest in peace, my friend, you ran a good race and we'll never forget you," Phyllis said.
Emma felt tears well in her eyes and trickle over her cheeks. She wondered if she would be able to get through her own comments about her father. Then Carole stood at the podium. She wiped her tears away and started to speak. Then she took a moment to compose herself.
"Babe always teased me about how easily I could cry. So, I'm doing my best to show him I can get through this without losing it. I feel like I've lost my best friend, and Buffalo Jump has lost one of its best friends. Babe always found time to support his community. He never turned down anyone with a cause to promote. He sometimes disagreed with what people did, but he always tried to find something positive instead of criticizing. He was a first-rate attorney, but he would've made a terrific farmer. I'll miss the goodies from Babe's garden, especially the bouquets he would put together every summer. I'm not real sure Babe believed I was another Hemingway, but he always supported my decision to write and offered valuable suggestions. He could fix anything. Babe also had a secret, but it's okay to let you know about it now. He was a natural tenor. He entertained Phyllis and me with his guitar and vocals around many a campfire or while we enjoyed the little Eden he created in his own backyard. I'm sure he is singing with the angels now," Carole said.
Emma wiped her eyes, swallowed the lump in her throat, and walked slowly to the podium while doing her best to be composed. Her father was the main attraction, and she did not want to detract from that with her own tears.
"First, thank you all for coming today. It is really gratifying to know my father had so many friends and admirers. Some of you may be surprised to know Harold did have a daughter. I discovered I was his daughter after he was gone. So, this is a bittersweet occasion for me. I am proud to be speaking about him as his daughter, but I regret we didn't know we shared this bond while he was alive. Then again, I have to ask myself what we would have changed.
"We had a wonderful time together during the last week here in Buffalo Jump. As a father would, he talked to me about many things, including his faith in God. As I look back, I can see that he took on the role of parent even though he was unaware he was one. I'm sure if we'd known sooner, we would have had many more visits over the years, but I probably would still have wanted to live in Denver instead of Buffalo Jump. It seems to be part of being young to want to fly from the nest and try your wings in places that seem more challenging. My father encouraged me to move to Buffalo Jump and take over his practice. I find myself more inclined to take his advice after spending some time here.
"My father was a talented, good man. Thank you, again, for giving him such a wonderful, final tribute by coming today. My father's ashes will be buried next to his mother in the cemetery here. Please join us for a reception at the Buffalo Jump Inn after the inurnment," Emma said.
The DiscoveryCountry quartet harmonized a medley of In the Garden and Beyond the Sunset as Phyllis, Emma, and Carole moved slowly up the aisle with Harold's urn. Then the crowd gathered around the cemetery plot marked with the headstone of Eloise Babineaux Lowe and Harold Babineaux "Babe" Lowe. Father O'Sullivan read the prayers specified by the church. After the ceremony at the grave, Emma, Carole and Phyllis held hands, walking in front of the mourners on the way to the inn.
Phyllis' staff had prepared an elegant brunch. Vases of flowers from Harold's garden decorated the tables. The buffet included ham, bacon, scrambled eggs, country potatoes, waffles, muffins, cinnamon rolls, quiche, baskets of fruit, juices, coffee and tea. People continued to stop by Emma's table to share an anecdote about her father or to tell her how much they would miss him. The DiscoveryCountry quartet performed some of her father's favorite songs.
It was early afternoon when Emma realized there were only a few people left. She thanked Phyllis and Carole for the lovely reception and the photo collage. Emma took the photos and guestbook to her room. She longed to close her eyes that felt gritty from tears. She stretched out on her bed and enjoyed a nap.
Emma walked to her father's office that evening and found a note from Lisa Alexander.
Emma,
I spent some time on Ryan's computer and found emails he wrote to a friend last week. Evidently he vomited several times. He blamed it on the lunch served at school. He mentioned he felt very sick…dizzy and disoriented…after he and Sean got into a fight in the park. He didn't want his father and me to know, because he thought we'd ground him for fighting and not let him play in the game last Saturday. As much as I found it painful to read these last words of his, I am relieved to know the truth.
Thank you, Emma, for taking the time to do some research. We really didn't want to sue, but we felt we owed it to Ryan's memory to prevent another tragedy.
If you can, we'd like you to attend Ryan's Mass on Thursday at 9 am in Buffalo Jump.
Sincerely,
Lisa Alexander
Emma read Lisa's note again and tucked it into her handbag. Although Emma was not sure she believed a higher power had a plan for anyone on earth, it did seem the fight in the park, Ryan's death, and her father's passing, all came together at a time when she was questioning her life in Denver. She had already been of use to the Alexanders and Coach Anthony. She could imagine doing more good in tiny Buffalo Jump than she ever would in divorce court in Denver. The idea of being the one person everyone depended upon to mediate a reasonable and sane approach to conflicts was very appealing. She had considered joining a mediation practice in Denver, but she did not want to do that exclusively. Practicing law in Buffalo Jump would offer more variety. Her inheritance would make the move more feasible. She truly felt at home in Buffalo Jump…especially in her father's garden. As he said, she could always take a vacation and see the sights elsewhere. It was hard to argue with the slower pace of the town for everyday living.
She had been lost in thought for a long time. Emma was surprised when she noticed headlights in the window on the office door and realized it was getting dark. She got up to lock the door and noticed the Sun River Sheriff's Department vehicle and then recognized Deputy Knudsen.
"Hello, please come in," Emma said.
Deputy Knudsen handed Emma the box of scrimshaw. "I thought you'd be anxious to get this back. We did find fingerprints on the box. I've got some sorry young men who want to apologize if you have the time," Deputy Knudsen said.
The boys from the Montana Mountain Lions gang got out of the deputy's vehicle and walked single file in front of him. Ethan, Jordan, Dylan, Noah, and Zach stood before Emma with their hands folded in front of them, heads hung in shame. Deputy Knudsen told Emma the boys had something to say to her.
"Miss Emma, I took your stuff, and I'm sorry. I promise I'll never do it again," Ethan said.
Before Emma could reply, Zach stepped forward.
"Miss Emma, as leader of the Montana Mountain Lions, I apologize for Ethan stealing your stuff. It was me who told him he had to do it." Then he looked at Deputy Knudsen.
"Keep going, you're doing fine," the deputy said.
"Well, here's the thing, we'd really like to keep our MML club, but we promise not to make it a gang and we'll never steal from nobody ever again. Deputy Knudsen says you don't want us to go to jail. He
says maybe we could help you out somehow, to say we're sorry," Zach said. He was obviously proud of himself for remembering everything he was told to say.
"This is such a surprise. I don't know what to say. I felt very sad when my scrimshaw was stolen. It was in my family for four generations. That probably doesn't mean much to you now. Someday you'll understand that having something in your family a long time means more to you than money. I'm glad you returned it. I know it's hard to admit when you do something wrong. It takes courage and character. I hope you'll always be able to admit when you're wrong and to do what you can to make things right. I certainly could use some help. I'm thinking very seriously about moving to Buffalo Jump. I'll let you know," Emma said.
"Are you serious?" Deputy Knudsen asked Emma.
Emma was surprised to see he was surprised and obviously pleased by the news.
"Well, I'm thinking about it, but it's a big step," Emma said.
"I think you'd really like it here, Emma. I'd be glad to help you any way I could," the deputy said.
"That's nice to know. I'm sure I'll need all the help I can get if I decide to do it," Emma said. She looked from Deputy Knudsen to the boys and back again.
"Well, I guess we better be going. We need to visit with Phyllis and Billy, too," Deputy Knudsen said.
Emma watched as the deputy escorted the boys down Main Street in the direction of Billy's Balsamroot Café. She hoped she said something that would keep them out of trouble the next time they were tempted. She was glad Deputy Knudsen was more than a little pleased she might be staying.
It had been a long, emotional day. Emma set the scrimshaw in the safe, grabbed her handbag, and locked the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
After the Mass for Ryan Alexander, Emma and Carole rode with Phyllis out to the Alexander home in a new development south of Buffalo Jump. Friends of the family had set up umbrella tables on the lawn. A Great Falls restaurant catered the affair. On a long table covered with a powder blue cloth were Ryan's photos, trophies, awards, favorite toys and teenage treasures. Family, friends, and business acquaintances talked in small groups. Here and there one would hear a bit of laughter, but for the most part, the atmosphere was subdued. Ryan's parents greeted everyone. They seemed especially pleased to see Emma.
Emma joined Phyllis and Carole at the buffet table. She was surprised to have a good appetite. The tributes to Ryan after Mass were emotional, and she had shed a few tears in spite of trying to focus on something else. Now, the fresh air and sunshine were comforting, and the needs of the living could not be denied. Emma took a small sample of everything in the buffet. She could tell she had gained weight, but she could not resist a slice of the four layer white cake with cream cheese frosting.
On the way home from the reception, Emma realized she had not met the Alexanders' other children. She asked Phyllis if Ryan was an only child.
"They lost a daughter not long ago in a car accident. Ryan was the last. I doubt they'll start another family now. Rick must be pushing fifty. I hope they stay together. Sometimes people can't recover from this much loss," Phyllis said.
"I watched them during Mass as they helped the priest distribute Communion. It struck me as odd they could go on with the rituals instead of being consumed by their grief," Emma said.
"They're very involved with their church. Lisa has a strong faith," Phyllis said.
"But how do you keep the faith when God takes both of your children so young?" Emma said.
"You're asking the wrong person. I wonder about it, too," Phyllis said.
Carole had been listening in the back seat and put her hand on Emma's shoulder, patting her gently. "I know you didn't ask for my two cents, Emma, but we should remember God gave us freedom of choice. Sometimes we make poor choices. Lisa's daughter was driving recklessly when she was killed. From what Lisa said, Ryan kept his injuries a secret so they wouldn't prevent him from playing football last Saturday. God had nothing to do with it," Carole said.
"But he's God. He could've prevented both of those deaths," Emma said.
"Exactly. He's God. And how can we ever hope to understand why he prevents some things and not others? He's in charge. We're not. We need to trust that he allows bad things to happen for a reason. Who are we to question God?" Carole said.
"But what good could come of those two deaths? Phyllis said Rick and Lisa may not be able to stay together after losing both of their kids," Emma said.
"We may never see anything positive come from this. That has nothing to do with what we believe. Blessed are they who have not seen and still believe, Emma. Jesus said so himself," Carole said.
"No offense, Carole, but everyone who does believe tries to convince people who don't by citing sources that can't be proven. What good does it do to quote the Bible if I don't believe it was inspired by God? Even if it was, you can't prove there's a God, so what good does it do?" Emma asked.
Carole patted Emma's shoulder again. "And you can't prove there isn't a God," she said.
After giving hugs to Carole and Phyllis, Emma unlocked her father's office and picked up the mail including more bills and two more checks to deposit. Emma decided to get started with the process of probating the will. She opened the safe and re-read her father's will, codicil, and the letter to her. He was very organized and had already started the petition for probate. Emma made a copy of the note Frances had written and that her father tucked inside his suit coat before he died. She decided to keep the original note in the safe with the will and take the copy with her. For now, the acid note from Frances was Emma's only proof that Frances and Harold were her parents.
Emma leaned back in her father's chair and thought about probating his will. She wondered if the local court would allow an informal probate since she appeared to have no valid proof of her parentage. Her birth certificate showed John and Lynn Favager as her parents. She had already gone through everything they left behind after they were killed in the auto accident.
Emma's gaze drifted without any definite purpose over various items in the office. She remembered she had not watered her father's plants in days. After testing the soil in a pot of philodendron, she went into the bathroom for the watering can. Then she moved from one plant to the other until she came to a Boston fern on her father's credenza. She started to move a box out of the way so she could set down the watering can when she noticed the box had not been opened. She remembered the day soon after she arrived in Buffalo Jump when her father came into the inn with a box under his arm. At the time, he suggested she might enjoy looking through it with him. She remembered he gave her the address of Frances' friend, Marilyn Tucker, in New York.
The package from New York seemed to be full of envelopes addressed to Frances from Harold, John and Lynn Favager, Phyllis Carle, and Carole Wylie, along with other names she did not recognize. There were small photo albums in the bottom of the box as well. Emma dumped out the water remaining in the watering can, and began looking through the letters. They were in no apparent order. Emma hoped there might be more proof of her birth if she read the letters from John and Lynn Favager. She sorted through the correspondence between Frances and John and Lynn. She bundled the letters prior to 1981 and slipped a rubber band around them. There were fewer letters during 1981 and 1982. After that, there seemed to be none. Emma read through two letters sent in the fall of 1981, set them aside, and opened a third. She read as if she had uncovered a map to a hidden treasure.
Dear John and Lynn,
Claude is off on another diplomatic mission, and I am dreading the long winter ahead.
I have had a shock, and I need your help. I hope I can rely on your strictest confidence. Claude cannot know about this.
For reasons I cannot explain, I fell in love with a man in Montana last summer while Claude and John were exploring the wilderness. I was angry because Claude seemed more interested in spending his time with John in the middle of nowhere than with me after being abroad for months on his missions. I neede
d affection and found it with an attorney, Harold Lowe, in Buffalo Jump. Now, I find I am pregnant.
Of course, I cannot go through with this pregnancy. My idea is to tell Claude I am terribly lonesome for you and need to get away to a warmer climate. Lynn, I assume you must know of someone through your friends who could perform an abortion. I would appreciate it if you would help me make the arrangements.
I am anxious to hear from you,
Frances
Mother,
You may be sure Lynn and I won't mention this to dad. We love him far too much to hurt him. Not only did you betray his trust, but you hurt Lynn. Why would you assume she knew friends with sources for an abortion? Lynn and I have tried everything to have a family of our own. We find it hard to believe you can discard your own child because it's more convenient. I wonder how close I came to meeting the same fate.
Out of respect for dad's feelings, we will help you. However, we will not help you get an abortion. Instead, we offer you our home while you bring the child to term. When you deliver, Lynn and I will raise the child. I will care for you at home, help with the delivery, and take steps to secure a birth certificate showing us as the parents. Yes, I am willing to be dishonest, too. But I am desperate for Lynn to have our baby. Your baby…my half-brother or sister…may be our last hope.
Let us know what you need and when you need it. We will take care of the rest.
John
There were other letters between John and Frances. Lynn never wrote to her. In November of 1981, letters were exchanged concerning funeral arrangements for Claude after his flight disappeared while on a diplomatic mission somewhere in Eastern Europe. Frances was eager to keep her pregnancy from her friends in New York. She managed to conceal the fact until December. It was perfect timing. She told everyone she was spending Christmas with John and would probably stay to enjoy the Arizona climate instead of enduring the long New York winter.