“And The Stitchery?” Hugh asked. “How long have you been coming here?”
Dana answered that. Eyeing Saundra with a blend of amusement and admiration, she said, “Since shortly before my wedding. I remember it. There was so much else going on in my life, but you walked in serenely and bought yarn.”
Saundra’s dark eyes twinkled. “I’d always been a knitter. There was no way I could resist this place.”
“Did you know I was marrying Hugh?”
“Actually,” she said, seeming momentarily astonished, “no. That was coincidental. I kept overhearing talk of the upcoming wedding, but it was a little while before anyone actually spoke Hugh’s name.” She arched a brow. “Apparently I missed the engagement notice. I did see the wedding one. That was a lovely spread in the Times.” She looked from Hugh to Eaton.
“A mega-jackpot,” Dana interpreted. There had been half a dozen pictures in the paper.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eaton uncrossed his legs. “This is going to take some getting used to.”
“Me?”
He gestured vaguely. “You. Me. Lizzie. This.”
“You’ve just learned about it?”
“Yesterday.”
She considered that. “I’ve had several weeks. That gives me an edge.”
“You didn’t say anything to anyone,” Eaton said.
Dana was trying to decide whether he was asking or warning Saundra when she said, “I don’t need to say anything to anyone. The pleasure I get is all my own. I’ve read every one of your books. I’m proud to be your aunt.”
Eaton pressed those thin lips together. Dana had always thought they were a Clarke trait, but it struck her that his mother had had the same mouth. She wondered which of his features came from Thomas Belisle. If she were in Eaton’s shoes, she would ask for a picture. She would want to know everything about Thomas, favorite foods and hobbies and interests. She would want to know about the other children Thomas had fathered.
She hadn’t asked Jack Kettyle any of those questions. But the curiosity was there.
Dana turned back to Eaton just as he asked, “What do you need?”
Saundra grew very still. The warmth left her eyes. “Are you trying to buy my silence?” she asked. “There’s no cause for that. I don’t share personal information with people. Dana, did I say any of this to you before?” Dana had barely shaken her head when Saundra added, “Not even your grandmother knows.” She faced Eaton. “My brother had a certain reputation. I can’t silence those rumors, but I do have a relationship with his children and their children and now their children. They’ve invited it and welcome it, as I do. I don’t have any other family, Mr. Clarke.” She looked up at him. “You ask what I need? From you, absolutely nothing.”
Eaton scowled. “My apologies. I meant no harm.”
“Maybe not,” said Saundra, “but I am no charity case. I don’t ask for anything I can’t pay for myself, and I can pay for quite a bit, thank you.”
The look on Eaton’s face was one Dana had never seen before. She could have sworn he was humbled.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m trying to figure all this out and clearly said the wrong thing. You’re my aunt by blood. If I had another aunt, which I don’t, I would have asked her the same question. It had nothing to do with the fact that Thomas was African American.”
Saundra relented. “Well then, perhaps I overreacted,” she said graciously. “When you’ve lived my life, it usually does have to do with race. I guess I’m trying to figure all this out, too.”
Chapter 26
Hugh wasn’t happy when the doorbell rang Sunday morning at eight. Anyone with half a brain had to know that sleep was precious when you had a new baby. More than that, Dana was sleeping next to him for the first time in weeks. Granted, she might have rolled there in her sleep, without conscious intent, but it was the closest that she had come to him since the night before Lizzie was born.
Now she bolted up in alarm. “The doorbell. If it was Gram, they’d phone, wouldn’t they?”
“You’d think,” Hugh grumbled, freeing himself from the sheets. He pulled on jeans, loped down the stairs, and opened the door, prepared to yell at whoever was outside.
Robert yelled first. He looked like he had just been jolted awake himself. “What the hell have you done?”
“Me?”
“Know what Dad’s saying now? He’s saying we’re black—he’s black, you’re black, I’m black. What did you tell him?”
“Me?”
“It’s your baby that started it all, your wife sleeping with whomever she did—and I don’t buy those DNA tests, there’s a huge margin of error. Dad showed up at my house an hour ago, saying he was up half the night trying to decide on the best time to tell me, and he just figured it was now. What is it with you, Hugh? Brad’s in a stew because you’re threatening to take Hutch to court—over the paternity of some kid? Come on. Affairs happen. Illegitimate children happen. There are only problems when you have a brother like mine who wants everyone else to be as miserable as he is.”
Dana appeared at Hugh’s side and slipped an arm around his waist. “Robert,” she said by way of greeting.
“Dana, can we have a couple minutes?” Robert snapped. “This is between Hugh and me.”
Dana didn’t budge.
“I’m not miserable,” Hugh said. “And what Dad told you? It’s the truth.”
“Come on,” Robert shouted. “That is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. You know our family history.”
“Affairs happen. You just said it.”
“You honestly think Dad’s mother had an affair? That icy lady? If she had sex with anyone other than her husband, it was rape.”
“It was an ongoing affair. We have proof.”
“Oh, yeah. The sister. Dad mentioned her. And you don’t think she’s after something? You don’t think she gets points for saying she’s related to Eaton Clarke? Well, I’m not buying it. I’m not telling my kids they’re black. I’m not telling the people I work with, and I sure as hell am not telling Brad.”
“Dad will.”
“Dad is so on Brad’s shit list right now, it won’t make any difference. Brad knows what’s up. He’s no fool, and neither am I.”
“Are you a bigot, Robert?”
“No more than you.”
“I am,” Hugh confessed, and was instantly ashamed. But he couldn’t take the words back. “I am,” he repeated quietly. “I wasn’t happy when Lizzie was born.”
“But y’are now,” Robert mocked, “because you’re the ultimate progressive who’s gonna thump his chest and say, ‘Hey, man, I’m one of you and I’m proud.’ And they’re gonna laugh, Hugh. Well, I’m not going to be the butt of their jokes.” He pointed. “You want to be that? Fine. Not me.” He turned and stormed down the walk.
“DNA is DNA,” Hugh called after him. “How’re you going to fight it?”
Robert turned. “I’ll tell anyone who asks that Dad is senile, and that you’re trying to cover up for your wife.” He glared at Dana. “Your father’s a priest? I don’t care if he’s the pope. You’re all looking for trouble.” He held up both hands and walked away.
Hugh watched until the sleek black BMW disappeared around the bend in the road. “He ignored the DNA part,” he murmured. When Dana didn’t respond, he looked down at her. She had taken her arm from his waist and tucked her hands in the pockets of her robe.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked.
“About being a bigot? Yes.”
“A bigot is a person who is intolerant of others. You’re not like that.”
“A bigot is a person who sees other people as inferior to him and hence less desirable.”
“You’re not like that.”
“Y’think? I don’t know, Dee. I keep going back and forth on it. I’d call that arrogance.”
“I’d call it real life. You were already doing everything right where race was concerned.”
“Until it came home to roost.”
“What’re you supposed to do?”
He stared off down the road. “Robert thinks we should hide Thomas’s connection to our family. He thinks it’ll upset his life. He says we’re looking for trouble.” He looked at his wife. “Are we doing that?”
As Dana drove back to the hospital, she thought about the toll secrets take on those who keep them. She was convinced Ellie Jo’s stroke resulted from the tension of keeping Earl’s first marriage a secret.
Entering her grandmother’s room, she whispered her name. Ellie Jo didn’t answer. She was in a private room now, the lone monitor beeping softly.
Pulling up a chair, Dana sat by the side of the bed with her arms braced on the rail. Though she had put off this visit in the hope of calming down, she was angry still.
“You should have told me,” she whispered. “You should have brought me into the loop about Grampa Earl. I would have loved him anyway. Did you really think I wouldn’t?”
Ellie Jo sighed. Dana didn’t know if it was coincidental.
“And didn’t you think that keeping this to yourself would make you ill with worry?” Dana asked. “You hid it, and the pressure built and you had a stroke. That was unfair, Gram. The existence of an estranged wife was just a glitch in paperwork. Grampa Earl assumed it was done. When he married you, he acted in good faith.”
Ellie Jo’s lips parted. “Did he?” she breathed.
Dana sat straighter. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”
The older woman didn’t open her eyes, but a tiny smile creased the left side of her mouth. “Dopey.”
“Good,” Dana said crossly. “You should feel that way.” She wasn’t talking about the drugs. “You were wrong to keep this from me. You’ve made a mountain out of a molehill.”
“Have I?”
“Grampa Earl did not intend to be married to two women at once. It was an honest mistake.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. But tell me you are. I’ll feel better.”
“Oh, Gram.” Dana was dismayed. “Have you been trying to convince yourself of it all these years?” All she could hear were Ellie Jo’s comments. Earl was wonderful—Earl was loving—Earl was as good as the day is long. The whole town believed it.
Ellie Jo opened her eyes. “They may send me to rehab.” The words were slow, labored. “Will you tend to Veronica?”
Taking a deep breath, Dana reined in her anger. “Of course. And I’ll look after the shop.”
“About Veronica?” The words were slurred now. “Don’t take her anywhere. She likes her own house.”
“I’ll stop in every day.”
“Talk to her.” Ellie Jo closed her eyes. “But don’t…tell her…about Earl.”
Dana’s anger returned. No matter that they were talking about a cat, she’d had it with lies. “Veronica probably knows. She was right up there in the attic with you while you hid those papers.”
“She can’t…read. Take care of her, Dana Jo. And listen…to your mother.”
Mention of Elizabeth didn’t help. “My mother?” Dana echoed. “My mother, who lied about the man who fathered me? My mother, who kept him from me all these years? My mother is no angel.”
“None of us is,” Ellie Jo said and let out a breath.
“Rest, Gram,” Dana said a bit crossly and rose. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Don’t be angry…”
But Dana was. She was even angry at Elizabeth. And that upset her. It put her at odds with everyone, which was a lonely place to be. Feeling the brunt of that on the ride home, she put in a call to Father Jack. He was a priest. Priests listened. They gave comfort and advice.
“Hello?” he said.
“Is mass over?”
There was a lengthy pause, then a tentative “Dana?”
“Yes. I don’t know when a priest is free.”
“Now’s a good time.”
“Well, that’s good then,” she said. “I guess.”
“Thank you for calling back.”
“I was raised well.”
Again he was slow in answering. “You sound angry. Is that at me?”
“At you, at my mother. At my grandmother. At my husband. At my father-in-law.” She caught a breath. “Should I go on?”
“That depends. Is there anyone left?”
Dana half smiled. “I could be angry at my mother-in-law for behaving like a ditz with her husband sometimes, only she’s come through for me in this.”
“Are you talking about the issue of the baby’s race?”
“Mostly.” She couldn’t see going into the rest. “And my husband. He’s getting better.”
“He seemed fine when he was here.”
“Like I say, he’s getting better. I’m starting to feel like the problem is me. Not only with him but everyone.”
“Is the anger justified?”
She gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, I think so. Things happen, things you don’t expect and you don’t understand. So you either deny them, or lie about them, or try to make someone else responsible.” She grew plaintive. “Why do people do that?”
“Because they’re imperfect.”
“But don’t they know that it hurts?”
“When they’re thinking clearly, they do.”
“Well, every one of the people I listed has done something that I think was really selfish.”
“Done something that didn’t consider your feelings?”
“Yes. That’s…right.” She took a quick breath. “Only now, I’m beginning to think that I’m the one who is selfish. Am I? Is it too much to ask that the people closest to me consider me when they make important decisions?”
“No. You have a right to expect that.”
“And when it doesn’t happen, what do I do?”
“Talk to them. Explain what you’re feeling. Hopefully, they’ll act differently in the future, at least where you’re concerned.”
His voice was soothing. “Did they teach you this at the seminary?” she asked, and thought she heard a chuckle.
“No. Life taught me this.” His voice grew serious. “Dana, I am far from perfect. The good Lord knows the mistakes I’ve made. You’re a leading one—oh, not a mistake in the conception, but in what I did afterward. I should have tracked down your mother. I should have made sure she was all right. I’m sorry that I didn’t. I was blinded by my own needs. I apologize to you now for that.”
Dana remained silent. She didn’t know what to do with the apology. She felt as lost as she had when her mother had died.
“Life is full of should-haves,” Father Jack went on. “Only they deal with the past. So we can dwell on them—dwell on the past—or we can move on. I want to move on.”
“You’ve learned to do it. Is it because of your faith?”
“It’s mostly common sense. And I don’t always succeed. For instance, I don’t know how to handle the fact that I have a daughter.”
Dana’s eyes filled. She drove on without speaking.
“I’d like to get to know you,” he said.
“I can’t think about that now.”
“But you called me.”
She had. It was an interesting fact. She reasoned, “You’re a priest, and I need help. I’m behaving badly. It doesn’t make me proud.”
“Acknowledging the problem is the first step. You’ve done that.”
“What’s next?”
“Forgive yourself. It’s what I said before, Dana. None of us is perfect.”
“And what then?”
“Try to get past it. When you’re with someone who angers you, force yourself to find three good things about that person.”
A huge semi passed Dana on the right. JESUS STEERS ME was painted on the bumper in large letters. “Is that from the Gospel?” she asked Father Jack.
There was a pause, then a quiet “No. It’s from me. I always told my children that. It seemed to help
.”
Chapter 27
Hugh was in his office on Monday, writing an appellate brief and feeling back on solid ground, when he got a frantic call from Crystal. Her voice was as hysterical as it had been that first day in the hospital garden.
“A guy came here and started asking questions about me and Jay. When I asked who he was, he said he was doing a routine investigation, so I asked again who he was, and he wouldn’t say. When I told him I wouldn’t talk with him, he said I’d be sorry if I didn’t. So I asked for identification, and he just pointed a finger at me, like he was warning me, and walked back down the stairs. He knew my name, and he knew Jay’s, and he knew where I worked. The senator sent him, I know it.”
Hugh pushed back from his computer. “He’s trying to intimidate you.”
“Yeah, well, he did. I mean, he was this big guy who could’ve kicked in my door without breakin’ into a sweat. So what am I supposed to do now? Move? I can’t afford an alarm, and anyway, it wouldn’t help if he decides to burn down the house. That’d end my case against the senator.”
“He won’t burn down the house, Crystal.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s not intimidation, it’s murder.”
“And Hutchinson won’t do that? How can you be sure? Maybe I should just drop the suit.”
“If you do, how will you get Jay to St. Louis?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “I have to ask you this, Crystal. For the record. Is there any other person, besides the senator, who would want to give you a scare?”
“No.”
“What about your mother?”
“My mother?”
“You’re not on good terms with her.”
“Hey, not on good terms doesn’t mean we’re enemies. She was here both days this weekend, and she brought food. She doesn’t have money to give me, and she can’t help me babysitting Jay because she works a twelve-hour shift herself. But she’s okay. Besides, I know the people she hangs with, and that guy wasn’t one of them.”
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