“I went up one flight and they were in the hallway having it out. Taffy told Cal he’d embarrassed her for the last time.”
“What did Uncle Cal do?”
“I was afraid that he would hit her or yell back, but he didn’t,” Eleanor said, shaking her head. “Instead, he was speaking softly and sweetly. Cajoling her with his words—acknowledging that he didn’t deserve such a good woman. It made me sick. Here she was pouring out her heart, and he was playing her for a fool. I knew it as clearly as I knew anything, and I wasn’t about to let it go unchallenged. But then, to my surprise, Taffy yielded. She calmed down and allowed him to embrace her and continue to apologize. I went upstairs angry. I was determined that I would never allow a man to do such a thing to me. I was further determined to have it out with Cal the next day.”
“And did you?”
Eleanor looked at her hands. It was an old habit whenever she wanted to avoid the moment. “I tried to catch him before he went to work, but he left too early. Then I thought I might go by his office, but when I showed up, I found out he’d taken the afternoon off. That really made me angry because I was certain he was out seeing some other woman.
“I went back home, and when Taffy told me she had a horrible migraine and was going to bed, I thought it good timing. Cal would come home from his affair and I would take him to task.” She stopped for a moment and forced herself to look at Jana. “But he didn’t come home until late. And when he came home, he was very, very drunk.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, I knew there would be no reasoning with him at that point. He was staggering all over the house, so I helped him to his room. Unfortunately, he thought I was Michelle, one of the maids he’d been fooling around with.” She stopped there, afraid to relive the moment. In her mind she could still hear his slurred speech in her ears . . . feel his heavy breathing against her face.
“I tried to fight him off,” Eleanor murmured. Her words were stuck in her throat. “I tried.” She looked at Jana.
“Uncle Cal raped you?” she asked in disbelief.
Eleanor could see the understanding was beginning to dawn. “Yes,” she whispered.
Thirty-one
“Are you trying to tell me,” Jana asked in horror, “that I’m the daughter of Calvin Anderson?”
“You certainly are,” Taffy said from the doorway.
Neither Jana nor her mother had heard Taffy return. Jana looked at her great-aunt, then quickly turned her stunned face to her mother. Eleanor buried her face in her hands. She was clearly mortified by the situation.
“I’ve waited for years for this truth to finally be discussed,” Taffy said, stepping into the kitchen.
Jana shook her head. “I thought you were at a retreat.”
Taffy laughed, as though they were discussing nothing more important than the weather. “I had the wrong weekend. Guess that’s what I get for trusting myself with the details.”
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Jana said.
The old woman took charge of the situation. “Well, it’s a good thing. This is a conversation that has been long overdue. Now, both of you come out here into the living room. This may take some time, and I want to be comfortable.”
Jana looked to her mother. It was clear that Eleanor just wished they would all disappear. But Taffy was right. This conversation was long overdue. Jana got to her feet and went around to her mother’s side. “Come on, Mom. Let’s go talk this out.”
Eleanor got to her feet, shaking her head. “I didn’t know she knew. I didn’t think anyone knew.”
Jana helped guide her mother to a comfortable overstuffed chair. She waited until Eleanor was settled, almost afraid that her mother might break completely apart. She seemed so fragile. Finally Jana took her own seat on the couch and looked to her great-aunt for answers. Taffy stood for several moments before pulling up an oak rocker and sitting directly in front of both women.
Eleanor finally looked up, and Jana saw there were tears in her eyes. “How long have you known?”
“Practically since it happened,” Taffy admitted. “At least I surmised it to be the truth. Cal was impossible to live with after that day, and you were determined to get back to America and have little or nothing to do with anyone. I knew something terrible had happened, but I thought perhaps it was nothing more than you had walked in on Cal with one of the maids.”
“So after you were raped,” Jana said, turning to her mother, “you didn’t tell anyone?”
“I couldn’t,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “I couldn’t hurt Taffy that way. I couldn’t bear the guilt I felt, and I couldn’t risk having her or anyone else blame me as people had blamed me for enticing my father.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Jana declared. “Not in being molested and not in being raped. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not, but there are things you don’t understand,” Eleanor said, refusing to look her daughter in the eye. “Things I can’t talk about—things that are just too ugly.”
Taffy shook her head. “Sometimes the details aren’t important to share, but sometimes they are. You have no reason to fear condemnation in this group.”
“Cal didn’t seem to even recognize me,” Eleanor said, her voice still low. “He thought I was there for his pleasure. The entire matter so shocked and sickened me that after my initial attempt to fight him off, I just let him have his way. I didn’t want to scream or cry out because the last thing I wanted to do was attract attention. I didn’t want you to know.” She looked up and finally met Taffy’s gaze. “I let him do what he wanted.”
“Child, you have no blame in that situation. None whatsoever. Cal told me all about the matter prior to his death.”
“He did?” Eleanor was clearly surprised.
“Yes, but let me back up.” Taffy drew a deep breath and her expression took on a look that suggested she was trying to gather her thoughts. After a moment she spoke. “I remember when we flew home and left Cal in London. I had already given him an ultimatum and threatened to separate permanently if he didn’t stop fooling around. He promised he would, but in the days just prior to our flight, he began drinking so heavily that I knew something was bothering him. Like I said, I saw your moodiness as well and figured you’d had some sort of shared encounter. At that point I had no reason to suspect the truth, however.
“Once we were home for a time and you started having morning sickness, I began to rework my thoughts. When you found out for certain you were pregnant, I knew you had to have conceived in London.”
“Despite the fact that I told you it was one of my American friends,” Eleanor stated matter-of-factly.
“Yes, well, I knew you weren’t close enough to anyone. You were seldom gone from home—especially during that time. I began to put it all together and realized that Cal had probably fathered the child. What worried me every bit as much as the thought of a one-time rape was the idea of Cal molesting you over and over as your father had done.”
“No, it was just once,” Eleanor said, seeming to relax a bit. “But it was nothing like what my father had done. Cal was violent. It was like he was taking all his anger out on me. It was painful and hideous.” She looked away. “I can’t believe I’m even telling you this.”
“I’m glad you finally are,” Taffy replied. “It needed to come out a long time ago. It was one of the reasons I kept trying to make contact with you and get you to come home . . . back to me. I felt I owed you a home and security, but more than that I loved you and wanted to take care of you in your time of need. Then when Jana was born, I wanted to give you both a home that would allow you all the comforts you deserved. I had already separated from Cal and planned to keep it that way, but then he grew ill and I focused my attention on him and lost track of you. By the time Cal died, I began to wonder if you weren’t better off without me in your life.”
Jana listened in silence, watching the matter play out like an afternoon soap opera. Everything she had
ever longed to know was suddenly being set out on the table like evidence in a courtroom drama. Cal Anderson was her father. She was the product of a rape—a violent act of aggression. No wonder her mother couldn’t bear to have her near. It all made so much sense now. Jana was a painful reminder of that hideous act.
“I don’t understand,” Jana finally said. “Did Mom just leave? But how could she resettle without money?”
Taffy turned her attention to Jana. “Your mother left my care when she was about four months along. I came home one day and she was gone.”
“I’d made arrangements to live on my own,” Eleanor murmured.
“Yes, through Cal,” Taffy added.
Eleanor’s head snapped up. “You knew?”
Taffy smiled compassionately. “I didn’t for a time, but I ran across some papers later—probably close to the time you gave birth. I saw that Cal had given you about half a million dollars. We never discussed finances. Cal wanted me to just spend as I pleased. He never told me where our money came from or went. But one day I saw the returned check, and that was the final proof I needed.”
“I sort of blackmailed him,” Eleanor admitted. “I’m ashamed of it now, but at that time I didn’t know what else to do. When I was certain that I was pregnant, I went to him one evening when you were gone and told him the truth.”
“I can imagine that didn’t go over well,” Jana said, shaking her head. She was beginning to feel worse than ever before. She knew it wasn’t her fault that her mother had been raped, but now she understood why her mother had never wanted to discuss Jana’s father. Now Jana felt guilty for having pushed her mother over and over for answers.
“Actually Cal was quite gracious about the entire matter,” Eleanor said.
“He was that way,” Taffy threw in. “He was always trying to right his wrongs by throwing money at it or by pouring on the charm.”
“I told him that if he didn’t help me, I would tell Taffy everything. I think he knew that Taffy would side with me, and he couldn’t bear to lose her.” Eleanor looked at Taffy. “He loved you, despite the things he did.”
“I know he needed me,” Taffy said, “but he didn’t love me in the right way. His was a selfish, needy love that was all about Calvin Anderson and nothing about me or anyone else.”
“I suppose I see that now,” Eleanor said. “Anyway, I told him that I needed to be set up with a home and income. I knew the book business from having worked at the bookstore in Boston, so I wanted my own bookstore. Cal asked around and found a small shop for sale—complete with inventory. It was about a hundred miles from where you lived and seemed perfect.”
“But by then, abortions were legal,” Jana suddenly said aloud. “Why didn’t you abort me—like you suggested I do with this baby?”
Eleanor met her daughter’s eyes. “I was wrong to ever suggest that. I was speaking out of anger and pain . . . please forgive me.”
Jana was taken aback. “Of course,” she murmured.
“I never really considered an abortion. I did, however, pray for a son. I didn’t want a girl because I knew that would only mean that she might have to bear all the misery I had known. I told Cal he would never be a part of my baby’s life because he was without scruples and values. I couldn’t risk letting him see you or be a father to you for fear that he might do the same things to you that my father did to me.”
It was all making sense now. Jana realized that her mother had taken what she thought was her only option. She had guarded her heart against further hurt and buried the past as far away as possible. Unfortunately, it had cost her the ability to have a real relationship with her child.
The baby moved within Jana, as if affirming her new understanding. “And Cal never wanted to know me or deal with me because that would mean risking Taffy learning the truth.”
“At first he tried to talk me into letting them adopt you. He said it wouldn’t be that unusual for a young woman in trouble to let her relatives take her child,” Eleanor told them. “I knew Taffy would love you, but I couldn’t bring myself to risk letting you be vulnerable. I knew if you remained with me, I could keep you shielded from men and the world. I just didn’t give thought to the fact that I was also denying you love and the security of family. Once I did realize that, it was too late.”
“It’s never too late—not with God,” Taffy stated.
“I keep thinking of how I asked you about whether you’d ever had to forgive someone for something really painful.” Jana looked to Taffy and saw the old woman’s contented smile. “All the time you knew I was the child of your husband’s betrayal, and yet you welcomed me here. You’ve shown me nothing but love.”
“But neither of you ever deserved anything less,” Taffy replied. “I only wanted you to see that—to know it for yourself. It was never an issue of placing blame or condemnation. That isn’t what the Lord would have us do. You were both victims of someone else’s sin, however, and there are always consequences to sin. Like a ripple effect in the water. Sin ripples out to touch the people around the one committing the wrong. I knew I couldn’t protect you from the hurts you’d suffered, but I could help to bear the misery with you.
“When Eleanor came to live with us, I wanted very much to help her heal from the past. Remember when I used to try to get you to talk to me about what had happened?” She looked to Eleanor and waited for an answer.
“But it was so . . . well . . . embarrassing. I felt so awful—so guilty. I had been completely duped by the only person I felt truly deserved my love and trust.” Eleanor paused and straightened, lifting her chin in that same defensive way Jana had seen in the past. “You can’t understand this because I don’t understand it myself—but my father made me feel special. I didn’t dread the things he did to me. I . . . I . . .” She fell silent.
Jana realized what she’d been about to say, however, and put voice to that thought. “You enjoyed it, and now you feel guilty.”
Eleanor looked at her daughter in what looked like relief. “Yes.” She bowed her head. “God forgive me.”
“But that—even that—wasn’t your fault,” Taffy insisted. “Our bodies are made to respond to certain stimulation. You might not believe this, but your guilt is a common problem with victims of molestation. I read it in one of my magazines. People blame themselves, thinking that if they’d done something different—if they’d told someone, if they’d not dressed a certain way—then they wouldn’t have been molested. It’s all hogwash.”
“But you can’t understand,” Jana’s mother continued. “My father’s actions made me feel special—truly loved. He made it all seem reasonable.”
“But you were brought up in a society that was open to everything,” Jana countered. “How could that be the fault of a young girl? You were told it was right—good. You lived in such a secluded manner that you had no reason to think otherwise.”
Eleanor shook her head. “I’ve tried to comfort myself with that over the years, but the guilt remains.”
Guilt. Jana finally understood another piece of the puzzle that was her mother. “You aren’t a bad person, Mom. You aren’t a perverted person.”
“But I feel like one. How could I have enjoyed myself? How could I have ever thought it was right?” Eleanor seemed to plead with them for answers.
“But you’d never been taught anything different, Mom. You were told it was right. You were raised in an environment that suggested it should be acceptable. You weren’t given any reason to think it wrong.”
Taffy nodded. “Exactly. How can children know what’s right and wrong except that their parents teach them? You were isolated from the rest of the world. You had no reason to think it was a lie.”
Eleanor began to weep. “I’ve always felt like I should have known better. Like I should have known better than to wait up for Cal—that I could have done something more to fight him off.”
“Life is full of ‘should haves,’ ” Taffy said. “I’ve borne my own guilt. Guilt that if
I’d been wiser I would have been able to protect you from Cal. Guilt that I didn’t get you more counseling—more help. Guilt is crippling, and we must fight against it.”
“But how?” Eleanor asked. “How do I just set aside a lifetime of guilt?”
“Exactly. How do I put aside my guilt?” Jana threw in. “Guilt that I should have seen my marriage falling apart—that I should have known about the affair. Guilt that I caused my husband’s death because of my flippant remarks.” She’d never verbalized that before. She did bear a tremendous amount of guilt over Rob’s death.
“You certainly aren’t to blame for that man’s death,” Eleanor said defensively. “You merely spoke the truth and that Broadbent man acted on what he perceived to be the right answer.”
“Don’t you see?” Taffy said. “It’s the devil’s way of trying to ensnare us. He wants us caught up in false guilt and grief. The devil wants us to buy into the lies he spins around us. ‘If only I’d done this differently.’ ‘I should have done that.’ It’s like an avalanche that just keeps coming—lie upon lie. When all the time we could simply take it to the Master—give it over to Him.”
“You sound so sure of that being the answer,” Eleanor said, wiping at her tears.
“I wish it were that easy,” Jana had to admit.
Taffy laughed. “You have both commented from time to time about wondering how I could have such a happy and positive disposition. You presumed it meant that I’d never borne pain, guilt, and suffering in my life, but both of you now know that I have endured great sadness and loss.” She sobered with this. “I’m here as living proof to tell you that God is bigger than our pain and sorrows. He’s bigger than our guilt. He is able to take anything we give Him and turn it around for good.”
“Even husbands who commit adultery?” Jana questioned. “I don’t see how anything good can possibly come of that.”
“It brought you here, didn’t it?”
“But only because of the betrayal and pain. Oh, and my empty bank account. How is that for good?”
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