Agnes

by Jaime Maddox

  At least she did back then. Perhaps Sandy had changed.

  Why wouldn’t she have changed? It had been so many years. They’d grown up, and when Jeannie looked at her wrinkles and the traces of gray in her hair, she had to admit they’d grown old.

  “Tell me what happened!” Jeannie demanded again.

  Jane stood, marched to her kitchen, and returned with an ashtray. She offered a cigarette to Jeannie, who declined, before sitting again, this time on the edge of the chair. She flipped her auburn hair and for a moment, Jeannie admired her sister’s beauty. She knew Jane had had work done, but it was hard to tell, and she looked great. It amazed her that they could look so much alike in the outside, but have such different minds and hearts.

  “Mom found your diary,” Jane confessed at last. She sighed in defeat and leaned back into the chair. Looking directly at Jeannie, she raised her eyebrows, as if trying to tell Jeannie she knew the sordid contents without having to say it. Then she turned on what seemed to be feigned nonchalance. Jane almost pulled it off. Almost. She was so fucking phony Jeannie wanted to throw up, but she remained silent and still and controlled her nausea so she wouldn’t interrupt Jane’s confession.

  Staring at her, allowing no break from the inquisition, Jeannie forced her to continue. “And?”

  Jane waved her hand dismissively, as if these trivial details were unimportant. Nothing could have been further from the truth. The details were so very important to Jeannie. “It was in a bag of our belongings the police recovered from Dad’s car. He was in the morgue, you were in the hospital, and the police showed up at Aunt Elsie’s with four Pomeroy’s shopping bags filled with our stuff. Remember, we didn’t have a thing with us when Elsie picked us up at the hospital. We rooted through those bags like they held Blackbeard’s treasure. Of course Mom recognized your diary immediately. You were always writing in that book! Why she never read it before I can’t imagine. Anyway, a few hours later she came out of her room and looked like she’d seen a ghost. I didn’t know it then, but later at the hospital I figured out that she read it. Jesus, I figured out about you and Sandy without reading the goddamn diary. Who ruptures their spleen and shatters their leg and comes out of the surgery asking for their best friend? It wasn’t normal, but Mom didn’t know, not until she saw it in your own words. So she told you Sandy was dead. Mom blamed your…transgressions on Sandy and figured with her out of the picture you’d find a nice man and be normal. And you did! So why are you so pissed at me?”

  Jeannie walked to the end of the room and turned again, a look of complete shock on her tired face. “Why? Because this is my life, Jane, not yours! You had no right! Do you know how I…” Jeannie looked at her sister and saw nothing but defiance on her face. She was not sorry. There was no concern or compassion on her face. She didn’t care what she’d done to Jeannie, how much Jeannie had suffered because of the lie she’d told.

  Finally, Jeannie gave in to her fatigue and sat down. She didn’t think her legs could hold her anymore. “You broke my heart, Jane.”

  “Please!” She said it in three syllables, and with much sarcasm.

  Jeannie was quiet for a minute. She sat staring at the wall, focusing on her breathing. After a moment she spoke again.“What about Sandy? What did you tell her?”

  Jane actually looked remorseful now. “Sandy already knew about the accident. She knew that Dad was dead and she came to the hospital looking for you. Mom intercepted her. She told Sandy you died. There was no reason for her to question Mom. Mom was prepared to make up some story about a closed casket and all that baloney, but it never came to that. Apparently, Sandy preferred the memories she had of you alive and never asked to see your body. She just walked out of the hospital and disappeared. Mom worried for years, but after that day, we never heard from her again. Mom even paid Mr. Burns, the manager of the cemetery, to keep an eye open for Sandy in case she came looking for your grave. And she wanted to know if Nellie died so she could keep you away from the funeral. But nothing ever happened. She never showed up. Until now.”

  The pain of Sandy’s death came back in a wave that toppled her over on the couch, and she couldn’t control the cry that escaped her lips as she clenched a pillow to her chest. She knew the anguish Sandy had to bear in learning she was dead. She knew it, because she’d had to bear it herself. The tears fell and just wouldn’t stop. And her pathetic, evil, homophobic sister simply sat in her chair and did nothing to offer comfort.

  After many minutes, Jeannie escaped to the powder room. Splashing cold water on her face finally helped to calm her. Her makeup was a disaster anyway; what did it matter? She patted her face and noted how weary she looked, how old. Did Sandy look the same? Would Jeannie even recognize her if they met on the street? She wondered if she’d ever have the chance to answer that question.

  Returning to face Jane, she was unsure what to say. Unlike Jeannie, who literally looked like shit, Jane was impeccably dressed and coifed and looked relieved to have shed this secret. Jeannie just stared at her, silent, lost in her own thoughts of the young girl who’d stolen her heart at the age of three and still had it.

  “Are we done?” Jane asked, sighing dramatically.

  Jeannie thought she was numb, but still her sister’s choice of words stung. The way Jane handled the aftermath of this disaster would determine if they could heal this wound. If Jane was truly remorseful, if she cared for Jeannie at all, she’d help right this wrong and help Jeannie understand and forgive. So far it wasn’t going well.

  “Excuse me?” Jeannie asked.

  “Are you done with this inquisition? Because I really need to talk to you about the gas lease.”

  Jeannie stared in disbelief. She knew a gas company had been pursuing Jane, hoping to sign a lease that would give them the rights to drill on the Bennetts’ land in Hunlock Creek. They had done all the work, verifying land ownership and such, and her signature this day would mean a check for a hundred thousand dollars for both of them by the end of the week. It would mean similar checks quarterly once the drilling process began. It would mean the end of Jane’s worries.

  Jeannie suspected her sister’s finances were worrisome, because for six months Jane had been encouraging Jeannie to sign the lease, but lately the requests and pressure had become more frequent and firmer. Jeannie had agreed to meet with representatives from the gas company, but even after they answered all of her questions, Jeannie was still hesitant.

  Although she hated her mother at the moment, Jeannie had to admit that Helen had been a smart lady when it came to finances. She’d made sure Jeannie was safe from Bob. And she made sure Jane was protected from herself. Helen had put all of her assets into trusts so none of the heirs could squander the estate. She’d helped Jeannie set up a similar trust for her own children. Helen’s heirs jointly owned thousands of acres of land in northeastern Pennsylvania, land that sat above valuable beds of natural gas, and without the other’s approval, neither sister could do anything to harvest it. Any decision involving something as radical as gas drilling involved mutual consent.

  Jeannie had been stalling. She was concerned about the environmental risks of hydraulic fracturing, and the health risks hadn’t been studied. She hoped the state would step in and impose some limits, or that the gas companies would lose interest in the Bennetts’ land so she wouldn’t have to make a decision on the matter that might anger Jane. She hadn’t been so lucky.

  Yet, suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. She was no longer concerned about Jane’s feelings; she could follow her own heart and her own instincts. She didn’t need the money, and she wasn’t going to do something she didn’t believe in just to make a quick buck. “I’m not signing, Jane. As a physician I have grave concerns about the purity of our drinking water and these chemicals seeping into the ground and causing God only knows what kind of cancers. So I’ve decided I’m not going to let them drill on our land.”

  Jeannie stood. The conversation, and their relationship, was over. It was time
for her to leave.

  “You’re just being spiteful!” Jane said. “If I hadn’t done what I did, you wouldn’t have married your husband. You wouldn’t have Bobby and Sandy. How can you be mad at me?”

  “If you have to ask that question, Jane, you wouldn’t understand the answer.”

  With the weight of sadness crushing her drooping shoulders, Jeannie turned her back to her only sibling and went to the door. She opened it and walked through before turning and looking Jane in the eye.

  “Good-bye, Jane.”

  *

  It took Jeannie five minutes to calm down enough to dial the phone, but as soon as she was able, she did. She needed to hear a friendly voice. Her son answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, Mom. How’s your day going?”

  Her smile was reflexive, and instantaneously her mood lifted. Of course she’d known that would happen. That’s why she’d called Bobby.

  “It’s been pretty shitty so far. How about yours?”

  “Oh, no. Did one of your patients die?”

  She hadn’t told either of her children about her plan to drive to the mountains, and she really hadn’t decided to make the trip until the middle of her sleepless night. Bobby’s concern was so genuine Jeannie had to laugh. “No, darling, nothing so devastating as that. I just had it out with Aunt Jane, and I’m never going to speak to her again.”

  “Wow. I wish I could have been there to hear that.” Bobby was naturally polite and generally got along with everyone, but Jeannie knew he wasn’t a fan of Jane.

  “I thought she was going to faint, mostly because I told her I wouldn’t sign the gas lease. I think she’s broke. She was as pale as a ghost when I left.”

  She heard Bobby’s breath. “Wait. Are you here? At the lake?”

  “I will be in a few minutes. You?”

  His laugh was deep and mirthful. “Mom, if you wanted to have dinner with me we could have done it at home. You didn’t need to make a two-hour drive.”

  In truth, Jeannie probably could have had it out with Jane on the phone. But Jeannie had wanted to come to the mountains. This was where she felt most relaxed. This was where she’d loved Sandy. This was where she should deal with what she’d buried for so long.

  Bobby was waiting on the deck of the Swiss-style chalet when she arrived a few minutes later. He helped her with her bag and pulled the cooler she’d packed to stock the fridge. These days, her children spent more time at the lake house than she did, and while they usually did a good job of keeping the kitchen stocked, she was never sure what she’d find. The basics like creamer and milk and cereal would get her through at least the first few hours in the wilderness, so she always brought them with her.

  “So what did she say?” he asked when they were both resting comfortably in lounge chairs on the deck that overlooked Lake Nuangola. Jeannie already felt better, just getting her feet up and looking out at the water, allowing the warmth of the sun’s rays to chase the chill she’d felt since the evening before. Bobby had made them iced coffee, which they sipped as they caught up.

  “Basically she admitted that she and my mom lied to me about my best friend’s death. That my mom forced her to do it. And at no time in the past forty years was there ever an opportunity to set the record straight.”

  Bobby’s puzzlement showed. “It’s just so bizarre, Mom. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would they do that?”

  Jeannie looked at him and sighed. Never, never had she told a soul. After Sandy’s death, when she was grieving so badly, no one was around except her family and a therapist and a tutor. They’d moved to the mountain, far away from all of her friends, and Jeannie was alone. There was no one she could have told, even if she’d wanted to. And after a while she had no reason to tell the story. She dealt with her grief and went on with her life.

  Now, she had a reason.

  She’d loved her children unconditionally, had been there for them through every dirty diaper and illness, for help with every sheet of homework and science project, to talk to and to laugh with. She hoped with all her heart that the feeling was mutual, their love unconditional, and that what she needed to say wouldn’t in any way change the way Bobby felt about her.

  She took a deep breath and looked right at him. She had no other way but right at it. “Bobby, Sandy was my lover. She was my best friend and my lover. My mother found out about our relationship and thought that if she got rid of Sandy she could cure me of my homosexuality. So she lied to me and let me think the girl I loved was dead.”

  Bobby’s jaw dropped and he leaned toward her. For a moment he simply stared at her, speechless. Jeannie met his gaze, so relieved he wasn’t turning away she almost cried. “Mom, does this mean you’re a lesbian? Is this why you left Dad?”

  Jeannie shook her head in frustration. “No, no, no. You know the reason I left him, right?” She looked for Bobby’s response and he shook his head. Neither of them wanted to speak of it if they didn’t have to. “Yet I have to say, Bobby, that I loved her so much that your dad really never stood a chance. No one did.”

  Bobby sat and turned to face her, his arms resting on this knees, a sweet smile on his handsome face. “Well, Mom, I don’t want to talk about your sex life with Dad, okay, but the rest of it—that wasn’t your fault. You were a good wife and a good mom. You made our house a home, made our life exciting and fun. You didn’t make him gamble or blow his money on young nurses and sports cars. That’s no one’s fault but Dad’s.”

  For a moment, Jeannie was speechless. She’d tried to keep these things from her children, to protect them, but apparently it hadn’t worked. They knew about their father, anyway. “No secrets from you, huh?” She teased him in acknowledgment of his kind words without opening up any more discussion of Bob.

  “Well, apparently there’s quite a big one. This Sandy Parker. What’s up with her? Are you a lesbian?” His inflection went from teasing to tender in a heartbeat. Whatever the answer, she knew he would accept it, and her.

  If someone had asked her this in her time with Sandy, her answer would have been a confident and cocky “yes.” But she hadn’t been with any other women after Sandy, and only one man. Over the years she’d asked herself the question a few times, at first when she contemplated marriage and again when that marriage ended. When her daughter came out, she couldn’t help wondering if there was some predisposition in her genes. She reflected on her own sexuality when she met women like Lisa and Susan, happily raising a family together and living a wonderful life, just the sort of life she’d planned to live with Sandy. More and more frequently she met colleagues and other professionals who were openly gay. These encounters caused her to think of Sandy, but never of the hope for that kind of love with another woman. She knew that wasn’t possible. And she honestly never felt an attraction to anyone.

  So, she figured she wasn’t gay. She’d simply once loved a truly remarkable girl.

  “No,” she responded truthfully.

  “So you aren’t going to call her?”

  The question shocked Jeannie and the look on her face reflected it. “Of course I’m going to call her!”

  Bobby shook his head and frowned. “I will never understand women. But if you’re going to call her, you should do it now. Afterward we can go out for a nice lunch. If you wait you’ll be too nervous to eat.”

  Jeannie shook her head. “I’m not ready to call her. I can’t. What do I say? ‘Hi, this is Jeannie and I’m not dead, but I’m kind of hungry. Would you like to have lunch?’”

  Bobby roared. “Maybe you should!”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  The Reunion

  Jeannie soon realized the impossibility of concentrating on her conversation with Bobby. Her mind continually wandered back to Sandy, and she realized how desperately she wanted to see her again. Decades-old feelings were awakening within her that she found difficult to control. Even if just for a moment, she wanted to look into those blue eyes and see the brilliant smile that had never faile
d to melt her heart. And if miracles did happen, and old dreams did come true, she would have more than one such moment of happiness. Finally accepting what Bobby had jokingly predicted earlier—that she wouldn’t relax until she had spoken to Sandy—Jeannie excused herself and headed for the solitude of her bedroom. Whether Sandy wanted to meet with her or not remained to be seen, but Jeannie knew for certain that she’d never know until she made that phone call.

  In the end she didn’t need a script. Bobby gave her the number, and before she reached the privacy of her bedroom she found herself hitting the send button on her phone. And before the door was even closed behind her, she heard her call answered on the other end.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Sandy Parker?” Jeannie asked as she walked across the room, but she already knew the answer. She’d heard that voice in her dreams since she was a child. With a few steps Jeannie covered the distance to the sliding-glass doors that granted access to the balcony overlooking the lake. Fumbling with the lock, she finally managed to open the door and stepped out into the morning. It was a cool day, just as it had been on that last day in West Nanticoke, and not a soul was on the water. Unlike that day, though, when she’d last heard Sandy’s voice, this one was bright and clear, with no rain in the forecast. Jeannie hoped this day would end better than that one had.

  Sandy’s breath escaping was her first reply, and then Jeannie listened as she cleared her throat. “Yes,” she finally answered, and Jeannie suddenly felt weak. She walked back into her bedroom and sat down on the bed before her legs had the chance to give out. Running her fingers along the smooth cool fabric of the bedding, she tried to focus her eyes as her head began to spin. Using the back of her hand, she wiped away tears and cleared her own throat. Then she stood again, too nervous to sit. How could this be so hard, when everything with Sandy had always been so easy? Well, except that first kiss, she thought, and the memory made her smile and gave her the courage to go on.