by Lyssa Layne
“I accept your apology, Mr. Stafford—”
“Jason, please.”
“Okay then, Jason, I accept your apology, but I'm still not entirely convinced that all you told me today is true. I'll admit, I'm afraid of your evidence, but until I have the absolute proof in my hands, please don't push too much that I'm Olivia's granddaughter. If I'm right and I'm not related to her, she's going to have a tough time when she has to continue her search for her real granddaughter.” She appeared to have Olivia’s best interest at heart.
“What if I'm right and you do turn out to be her granddaughter?” he had to ask.
“Then I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
“Truce?” Jason extended his hand.
He watched Cherie battle, head, and heart, and yet she couldn't seem to help but smile believing that he was clearly sorry for his rotten behavior, “Truce.”
She placed her hand in his and shook. The problem was that once they had their hands together, their eyes also locked. His dark variegated tiger-eyes to hers. The handshake stopped, but their hands remained connected. Their pulses sped up, pumping energy from one to the other. Heart’s beating in time, in unison.
He startled when Olivia cleared her throat.
She entered the room, and Jason knew Olivia had to have heard them call a truce.
He knew her.
Olivia’s smile wasn’t for the words they’d spoken but for the fact that she saw what he felt. There was definitely a connection between them and Jason understood she couldn't have been happier.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Oh, I'm so happy you two have made up.”
The sound of Olivia's voice broke the trance Cherie shared with Jason. Cherie pulled her hand to her side while Jason stuffed both of his in his pants pocket, but their eyes remained locked together. She looked up, heat rushed to her cheeks.
Olivia positively glowed as she looked from Cherie to Jason.
When neither responded to her comment, Olivia gave her a worried look. “Cherie dear, are you okay? You have a rather odd expression on your face.” Olivia gaze shifted from her to Jason, “Jason, are you alright?”
“Um...yes Olivia, Cherie and I have just called a truce. I promised not to be a pr...pain in the rear, and she promised to give me a chance to help her sort out the mystery surrounding her birth.”
Cherie gave him a little glare, unable to recall saying those exact words, but willing to let it slide for the moment.
“Wonderful. Maybe before long we'll have all our questions answered. Oh, by the way, Cherie, Mark called and wanted me to remind you that your car is still in the parking lot of Jason's office. He suggested that I give Jason the keys tonight. Then tomorrow when Jennings takes you home, Mark can bring your car and meet you there. I hope you don't mind, but I told him that would be acceptable.”
Seeing the weariness in Olivia's face, Cherie felt sorry that she'd created such a strain on the woman. She already felt a pulling at her heart toward the woman that she couldn't fight. At this point, to find out that Olivia was her real biological Grandmother would not be the worst thing that could happen to her. But, with her life spinning wildly out of control, she wasn't ready to accept anything at face value. She still wanted proof positive before she’d willingly take their word for it.
“Olivia, please don't worry about me, I'm going to be just fine, and soon. I hope. I'll gladly give my car keys to Jason.” Finding her purse on the floor next to the tan leather armchair where she'd left it, she pulled the keys from her purse and handed them directly to Jason.
That being the case, perhaps when Mark brought her car home, she would take advantage of the work he did, along with the documentation in the envelope in her father's desk and see what they could come up with.
“I hope you'll both excuse me, but I'm rather tired, and I think I'd like to go to bed.” As if on cue, Cherie yawned.
“I completely understand Miss Michaels, I mean Cherie. I hope you'll take me up on my offer to help you. I do mean it, sincerely.”
She believed him. There was a look of sincerity on his face as if even now he wanted it to be true.
Olivia saw Jason to the door then joined Cherie at the foot of the staircase. Arm in arm, they climbed until they reached the top. Then, walking down a long hallway, they passed several doors before Olivia ushered Cherie into a spacious bedroom.
Cherie couldn’t help but wonder what life would have been like to grow up in this house. She and her grandfather would have butted heads, no doubt about it. She already didn’t like him very much. And her behind would probably be permanently blistered red for sliding down the banister. But the library would have been her haven.
What worried her most and was her biggest fear was finding out what happened to her mother. From the sounds of it, what little she gleaned Mr. Alexander alone was the straw on the camel’s back that broke Destiny. If he were responsible, she’d hate him and everything about him. But could he be so bad with Olivia as his wife?
“This is the room your gr...Lawrence and I shared all during our marriage.”
To Cherie, the room didn't seem to suit Olivia. It was very dark, and the dark brown carpet made the room feel even colder to her.
Cherie felt Olivia eyes on her.
“Why the scowl, Cherie?”
Cherie didn’t realize she was frowning. She looked down afraid of how to respond.
At her silence, Olivia looked up and scanned the room. The smile that was previous on Olivia’s face slid away.
“I guess with Lawrence gone, I'll have to renovate this room. He always hated change. Now that I think about it, it wasn't that he hated change so much as much as he hated not being in control of any changes taking place. I didn't realize until just now that that included me as well.
Unable to identify the expression on Olivia's face, Cherie said, “Excuse me?”
“You have to understand, I just grew up in an era that accepted that the man was in charge and the wife didn't do anything to shake their foundation. I was just thinking that perhaps if I'd fought Lawrence a bit more on things like remodeling our bedroom, maybe he'd have seen I had a mind of my own and the right to express my feelings. As it was, I always hated any kind of confrontation, so I remained quiet. To this day, I blame myself for what happened to my daughter.”
Olivia moved to the window that faced the front drive. Cherie could see Olivia slipping into the past and that the effect on her was not for the best. Olivia's face lost all color as she became further lost in her memories while she glanced out the window into her own private hell.
Stepping up to Olivia, she started to reach for her shoulder then pulled back when she realized she might give the wrong impression. If she tried to embrace the woman as her heart wanted to, as much as she longed to reach out to Olivia, showing her acceptance to this situation frightened her more. She didn't want it to be true, wanted them to be wrong. Cherie wanted the family she grew up with, the ones who saw her through school, college, and all the important times in her life. That was her family.
“Olivia, I understand your need to blame someone for the tragedies in your life. I'm having the same trouble with that myself. I want to blame the idiot who drove drunk and killed my parents. I want to blame Mark for knocking at my door last week. I want to blame Jason for being such a jerk today. And, I even want to blame you for entering the safety of my world.”
When Olivia turned around, she had tears streaming down her cheeks. “I'm so sorry I invaded the security of your life. I hope someday you can accept my apology.” Her eyes cast downward, in an attempt to avoid meeting Cherie's.
Unable to stop herself, Cherie rushed forward embracing Olivia, “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or to make you feel that I don't like you. That's not the case. I'm feeling like damaged goods right now, and I don't understand myself or where I even belong.”
“You're welcome to stay with me as long as you like. I know you've got problems of your own, and I don't mean
to be dependent old woman, but I've never been alone. And, I admit, I'm afraid to be here by myself. I went straight from my parent's home in Sacramento, to Lawrence's home here. Other than that, I've known no other life. Lawrence is gone, Destiny is not cognitive, and I don't like being alo—”
“What? You mean Destiny is alive?” Cherie felt her jaw drop.
Seeing the dumbfounded look on Olivia’s face as she realized there was so much more she still didn’t know.
“Yes, of course,” Olivia replied.
“I assumed that Destiny was dead from the way everyone talked. I take it she's not?”
“No. Whatever gave you that idea?” Olivia frowned.
“Well, for one thing, everyone talks about her in past tense. So naturally, I assumed that meant she was dead. And for another thing, she wasn't with you, so again, I assumed that was because she was no longer alive.”
A shadow of something sorrowful shrouded Olivia's eyes. Cherie knew whatever she was about to tell her, that it couldn't be good.
Olivia let out a breath. There was a certain air of resignation on her face and suggested, “I forgot we never finished our conversation earlier. If you're up to it, how about we go into my sitting room, and I'll tell you the rest?”
“At this point, I am so bewildered that I can't say no. I think I need to hear the rest of your story.” Cherie supported Olivia at the elbow. Olivia appeared to be weakening before her very eyes.
Pointing the way through the door, Olivia led Cherie to the right of the four-poster bed.
Cherie seated Olivia before taking the chair opposite her. “Go ahead.”
“Destiny and her young man, Jeffrey Phillips, continued to date. I know they had to sneak around just to see one another, thanks to Lawrence's shameful behavior.”
“One day about a year after Destiny graduated from high school a man in Military clothing appeared on our doorstep, asking for Destiny. I was sitting right here when I heard her scream. I raced downstairs and found her on the floor rocking back and forth.”
Tears trickled down Olivia's cheeks. Her chest heaved as she continued with her story.
“By the time I got all of the information out of the man my daughter was in a catatonic state.”
Cherie reached out, feeling the need to touch Olivia's arm, offering any kind of consolation while Olivia anguished in the past. “What happened? Who was the military man?”
“He was a Chaplin from the Armed Forces office out of Sacramento. He'd come to tell Destiny that Jeff was dead. He'd been killed on a mission over in Desert Storm. This was news to me because I had no idea he was even out of the country. Nothing had changed in Destiny's attitude, no sadness to show he was gone. Nothing.”
“So, what happened?” Cherie gripped her arm tighter, leaning in closer.
“By the time Lawrence came home from the office that day, the family doctor had given Cherie a shot and suggested a seventy-two-hour hospitalization.”
“Lawrence yelled and screamed at her. He shook her harshly right there in front of the doctor, trying to bring her around. But it was too late, she'd pulled a shell around her that nothing could penetrate. She sat there, in the chair, her legs drawn up, curled in a ball, clutching the rag doll my mother had made for her when she was a little girl. To this day, that doll is never out of her sight.”
“So, the boy she was in love with had been killed. I still don't understand?”
“We didn’t either until about two months after she was institutionalized. I got a call from the doctor at the sanatorium one morning asking to speak with us. When we got there, he told us that Destiny was pregnant. He suggested we pick a smaller convalescent home to put her in closer to home. He suggested we try to see her more often, and encourage her to talk. By the time we left he had given us a couple suggestions of where to put her, to ensure she received the proper care during the remainder of the pregnancy.”
Cherie's heart was breaking for Olivia’s daughter. She’d never loved anyone only to lose them, except her parents but even she knew somehow it wasn’t the same thing. She could only imagine the depth of a love that could make a young girl lose touch with reality.
“By the next morning, Lawrence was in contact with his attorney making arrangements to have Destiny declared mentally incompetent and drawing up papers to have her child put up for adoption.”
“He what?” Cherie jumped up out of her chair. Her blood ran cold at hearing how hard-hearted Olivia's husband had been. Her hands fisted. She wished her here in the room right now because he deserved the pain she wanted to inflict.
“You have no idea how my opinion of my husband changed that day.”
“I can't believe anyone would do that to their own daughter?” Cherie slowly found her seat again while she raged inside at the injustice poor Destiny had to deal with.
“By the weekend Destiny had been moved to a sanatorium in the next town, and three months later you were born on October second, a month early. By the fourth, you went home with the Michaels.”
Cherie sat there dumbfounded.
“It was Lawrence who insisted the Michaels name appear on the birth certificate. He paid someone to forge the document so that our daughter’s indiscretion couldn't be traced to back to our family.” Olivia looked down, turning her wedding ring on her finger. She opened her mouth to add something, but seemed to change her mind or thought better of it.
“What? Olivia, you started to say something. What aren't you telling me?”
“Well—it’s just that I heard Lawrence on the phone that day with your fa—Mr. Michaels. I also heard him threatened the Michaels that he'd take you back and give you to someone else if they ever let anyone trace you back to us.”
Stone still, Cherie couldn't believe her ears. If what Olivia had said was true then her biggest fear had come true, she wasn't wanted, at least not by Lawrence. The cruelty of the man made her say a silent prayer, thanking God that this man wasn't here today, or she'd tell him exactly what she thought of him and his treatment of his so-called loved ones.
Pulling back into her chair, she rested her head against the back and shut her eyes. Cherie couldn't help but wonder how a woman as sweet as Olivia came to be married to such a despicable character as Lawrence Alexander.
Turning her thoughts to the child Alexander put up for adoption, Cherie wondered what type of moral character Jason's father had possessed. She wondered if he condoned Lawrence's behavior or did he try to talk him out of it.
Cherie's heart lurched as she asked, “Why didn't you tell Jason it was Mr. Alexander behind the falsified birth certificate today?” If Olivia knew the facts, why had she allowed Jason to hint as he did that her parents were behind it?
“I apologize for that my dear, but to answer your question, I didn't speak up because quite frankly, Jason doesn't even know whole of it. There is so much more to this story that I doubt we'll ever know the end of it.”
Unable to remain confined to her chair, Cherie stood and began to pace. She searched for the words to finish this long day. Cherie stopped when directly behind Olivia. Placing her hands on Olivia's shoulders, she leaned over to one side. “Olivia, I think I've heard all I want to hear for one day. Can we finish this up in the morning? I need to digest all of this so I can come up with some semblance of reality.”
Olivia reached behind her and patted Cherie's hands. “Of course. I understand. I know how harsh the majority of this must sound to you, but more than anything else, I don't want you to walk away tonight feeling like you weren't wanted.
“If I am as you say, your granddaughter, and Lawrence did as you've said then how can you tell me that I wasn't wanted.” Tears cascaded steadily down her cheeks. She didn't even bother to wipe them away.
Olivia left her chair when she heard the catch in Cherie's voice, “Because I know my daughter. If she loved that young man enough to give him her heart and her virginity, then she loved him with every fiber of her being. Destiny’s not responsible for how her mind shut
down when he was taken away from her. If she were here now, in her right mind, she'd be the first to say you were created out of love. If she were even aware of your existence then maybe that would bring her out of whatever holds her hostage in the other world she's living in.”
Olivia walked over to her desk and opened one of the side drawers. She removed a picture frame. Carrying it back to Cherie, she handed it to her.
“This is your mother and father. Look at the expressions of love on their faces and tell me they weren't in love. Tell me that if you were created from that union that you couldn't have been loved.”
Cherie hesitantly took the framed photo from Olivia. Turning it over she saw the most radiant, beautiful young woman she'd ever seen in her life. That woman gazed just as lovingly into the uniformed young man's eyes as he did into hers. There was no doubt in her mind whatsoever that they were truly, madly, deeply in love.
She took a second look at the photo, the pastel vintage Gunne Sax dress. The blue ribbon tied atop her head, and the way the young man held her, they were sharing something spectacular, something precious. It dawned on Cherie then that it reminded her of a wedding dress. Were they secretly married? She had to find out more before she voiced her suspicion.
“Where was this taken?”
“I have no idea. Once Destiny was moved to the sanatorium, I went through her room looking for clues as to why she would have reacted the way she did to Jeffrey's death. I know she loved him, but I can't help but think there has to be more to it than that.”
“So how did you happen to find the picture?”
“I was so upset over my poor Destiny that I lay down on her bed. I cried for all she'd lost. I must have cried myself to sleep because the next thing I knew I was waking up and my hand was under her pillow holding the edge of something. When I brought it out, I saw that it was this picture. She probably felt she needed to hide the picture from her father.”