The Liberation of Ravenna Morton

by Suzanne Jenkins

  April turned to her husband. “I’m sorry, honey. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

  “It’s not that. I have apprehension dread,” Ted replied, pulling her back into a hug.

  “Yes, me too.” April sighed. “I think we’re just seeing a tiny bit of what lay ahead. But it might be good.”

  Ted bent down and kissed April on the mouth. “Promise me we can spend some time having fun this weekend. And I don’t mean going to Costco.”

  April laughed out loud. “Okay, I promise.”

  She left the house for the drive into Saugatuck. The church on the corner of her block was having choir practice. Cars were parked on the street, and she could hear voices and organ music. Soon, the winter holidays, starting with Thanksgiving, would be here.

  Esme was standing on the sidewalk in front of the Green Leaf Inn, waiting for April. “It’s getting so cold; I think I feel snow in the air.”

  “You might be right. I just realized Thanksgiving is only six weeks away. Do you think you’ll still be here?”

  Esme looked at April for a moment. “Would it be okay if I decided to stay? I mean, I’ve already thought of it. I spoke with my father tonight. He’s coming here next week. Today he took a major step and listed the house for sale. He said once the decision was made, he couldn’t wait to start planning a trip.”

  “Wow, that’s wonderful,” April said, really meaning it. “Of course it would be okay. I mean, I know it hasn’t been a pleasant few days. Everything is in turmoil. The more we learn, the worse it seems to get. But maybe once we have all of the facts about Peggy and we can deal with it, maybe then it won’t be so difficult for my brothers and sister to pull it together.”

  “What about Ravenna?” Esme asked softly. “She seems very fragile to me. She has things arranged perfectly to her liking. Is she going to want to rehash all of this painful stuff? I’m not so sure, because it will mean exposing her pain to her family.”

  April had to agree with Esme, but something about a stranger having made such a vivid observation after only a few days threw her into emotional chaos. Afraid to open her mouth, she concentrated on driving.

  Ravenna did have everything exactly as she wanted. If asked, she’d admit the perfect structure of her life made it possible for her to go on living after so much heartache; Maria’s death was monumental, and she was still reeling from it. April knew that Ravenna really thought she would see her again someday, and when it didn’t happen the way she wanted, the disappointment was almost too much to bear.

  April pulled the car up to the curb but didn’t move to get out.

  Esme was sorry she’d upset her again. “I wish I could’ve just come to visit and not stir the pot.”

  When April turned to her, Esme could see how upset she was. “I do, too. I wish we could have stayed on the merry-go-round that my family’s been stuck on, with my miserable brothers and drunken sister, and my father living like a single man with no responsibilities. I don’t see him getting away with that much longer, do you? I’ve often wanted to ask him how he got a thirteen-year-old pregnant without doing jail time. I still might, if I get the nerve. You may have noticed we sort of tiptoe around Mike. He’s larger than life with his good looks and his cane and beautiful paintings. It’s a mystery why my mother puts up with Mike, until you really look at him.

  “I have a perverted visual of my parents. You know how beautiful they are? Imagine them young, naked, making love. That, I think is the mystery.” April put her hands over her face and started crying. “For that, we were ridiculed when we were growing up.”

  Esme put her hand on April’s arm, willing her to calm down. “It was a different world back then. It was Peggy’s word against George Patos’. If calling the authorities against Mike was an option for her, how would she have proven it? Can you imagine the scrutiny under which it would have placed Ravenna? Now we know that the relationship between mother and daughter was brutal. How would including Mike improve it?”

  April took her hands away from her face. “So what you’re saying is it all comes back down to Peggy.”

  Esme slowly nodded her head. “It’s just my opinion. If Peggy hadn’t gone to boarding school, subject to all the horror that entailed, if Robert hadn’t died, and if she hadn’t been financially dependent on George Patos, I think the lives of her children would have turned out quite differently.” Esme was nervous because she didn’t have all the answers. “Let’s get inside and talk, okay?”

  April nodded her head, taking the keys out of the ignition. Exhausted, she knew she was vulnerable, that her emotions were raw. “I hope I can keep it together,” April admitted as they walked up the path to the house.

  “You don’t have to,” Esme replied softly. “Maybe it’s better to just get it out in the open. I won’t be offended unless you throw me out.” She looked around the area, and in the night, with the soft lights coming from the houses, she could see this was an older, quaint neighborhood, with small cottages set at different distances from the street, the sound of beautiful classical hymns being sung by a choir. “What is this place?”

  “It’s Douglas. These used to be summer homes,” April said, pausing. “You can’t see it, but the river is right over there, to the east. I could swim to my mother’s house in about an hour if the water was cleaner. I’ve canoed there hundreds of times.”

  She pointed north, toward Mt. Baldy. “The sawmill where my grandfather was killed was right over there. It’s a boat works now, part of the big marina.”

  “I need to get out and investigate the area. Maybe when my dad arrives. He’s going to rent a car.”

  April was sorry no one had offered to squire Esme around. It really was terrible that they’d invited her to come and then just dropped her because the circumstances were getting tense. She didn’t want to say anything, though, because she and Ted really needed downtime that weekend. Hopefully, this evening together would be enough for now.

  He was waiting at the door, smiling. “Welcome,” he called out.

  April picked up her pace and led the way up the steps. “Ted, this is Esme.”

  He offered her his hand, thinking a hug might be over the top. But she was their niece. “Hi, it’s Uncle Ted, if you don’t mind.”

  Esme giggled.

  “He’s kidding,” April said.

  “I am not. She’s my niece. It’s about time I got some respect around here. I haven’t seen Ozzy’s kids in two years, and they live six blocks down the road from us.”

  April turned to Esme with her eyebrows raised. “He’s not kidding. You may have noticed Ozzy doesn’t say much at my mother’s house. He’s embarrassed by the way Ravenna lives.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Esme said.

  “Yeah, well, you’ll get used to it if you stick around long enough,” Ted said. “Come in and eat, you two. I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day. You’re having a traditional Ojibwe meal, pasta with oil and garlic, and salad from a bag.”

  April snickered. “He’s not kidding,” she repeated

  “It sounds great,” Esme said. “I could use a break from Green Leaf home cooking. All my clothes feel tight.”

  “Ted, Esme’s father is coming to visit next week.”

  “Oh, is that right? Tell us about him. He’s our brother-in-law, after all.”

  Happy for once to have the focus off misery, telling the Freemans about John Wynd was a pleasure after focusing on creepy George Patos and selfish Mike for the past week, restoring Esme’s faith in Greek men.

  Chapter 18

  The next morning, she planned to have Wiley take her to Ravenna’s, but first, she needed to make reservations for her father, who was due to arrive on Tuesday. She peeked as she came down the steps and was relieved that Rhonda finally had a day off. The woman at the desk was fiftyish and beautiful. Hair pulled into a bun at the back of her neck, it was pale beige; Esme was sure she’d helped it along with chemicals, but when she got closer, she saw the new growt
h, tendrils that had escaped the bun loose around her face, were the same color. Although her skin was amazing, Esme decided she might be closer to sixty. Dressed to perfection, she impressed Esme with her grace and style.

  Sorting mail, the woman looked up from the task and smiled as Esme approached. “May I help you?”

  “Hello. I’m Esme Wynd. My father, John, is coming for a visit next week, and I was hoping you had a room available.”

  “I’m sure we do,” she replied, thumbing through the reservation book. “We have two regular guests, including you, Miss Wynd. I’m Rebecca Johnson, by the way. Magnus’ daughter. He told me all about you.” She held her hand out over the desk to shake.

  “My father is quite the character, and he was taken with you. I think it may be the first time he ever drove a real New Yorker.”

  “I did make an impression with him, especially when I told him I didn’t have a driver’s license. Men always find that so impossible.”

  “Yes, well, sometimes I’m sorry I have one,” Rebecca said, looking down at the calendar. “When did you say your father would need the room?”

  “He’ll be here on Tuesday. He’s renting a car, so it won’t be necessary to pick him up. His ticket is open ended. Will it be a problem if he doesn’t know how long he’ll be here?”

  “Not at all,” she replied. “This is a very quiet time of the year. We might pick up a little during the holidays, but then in January it quiets down again. Just let me know when he books his return trip.”

  For some reason, Esme felt compelled to engage Rebecca Johnson further, but didn’t have anything more to say. “Okay, well thank you,” she said hesitantly.

  “Anytime.”

  Esme turned to leave for Wiley’s bait shop when Rebecca called her name again. “Oh, Miss Wynd, I almost forgot.” She reached under the counter and brought up a bulky package. “This arrived for you with the mail today.”

  Esme had no idea what it could be. She reached for it and looked at the return address. It was from George Patos. Why would he send the papers to her instead of April? She debated taking the package with her to Ravenna’s but then thought better of it. She went back to her room to open it in private. There had to be some reason she’d received it, and it was possible it might not be good news.

  Throwing the package on her bed, she got her coat off and put it over the chair. Getting the small scissor from her makeup case, she carefully cut through the tape around the package. It didn’t occur to her to call April, yet. If she had to, she’d repackage the documents and hand them over. Pulling the bundle out of the wrapper, she saw a letter taped to the first notebook.

  Dear Esme, I’m shipping this to you overnight. After I spoke with April yesterday, I came to the difficult decision that these documents need to be in neutral hands. Blame it on ego if you will. You’ll see there is very little about me after all. I feel badly for my nephew in all of this, because he is the one who stands to lose the most. George Patos

  Sitting on the bed, she picked up the first notebook. Reading halfway through the first page was all that was required for Esme to determine Peggy was deranged. She blamed Mike Hetris for everything she’d perceived as having gone wrong in their lives after Ravenna gave birth. It appeared that either she imagined he was a frequent visitor to the cabin after Peggy handed the baby over to the adoption agency, or he really did come often, spending hours talking to Peggy. Flipping through the rest of the notebook, Esme saw that it was just more of the ramblings of a mentally ill woman. Feeling disloyal to April for some reason, she decided to offer to hand the notebook over regardless of what George Patos wanted.

  “That is so bizarre,” April said after listening to Esme read the letter from George over the phone. “I asked for the papers, and he said he’d send them to me.” Annoyed, she knew she was fighting the same strange emotions that appeared the day Esme took the bus to Chicago without consulting with her first. Do I have control issues?

  “Yes, well, there’s nothing I can see after skimming through the first few pages that any sane person could blame your father for. Maybe he’s just stirring the pot. I want to see your mother this morning, so I can leave them here at the desk or bring them with me on the boat.”

  “Bring them to Ravenna’s, please,” April said. “We were going to just hang out today, but I can run over later this afternoon.” They agreed to the plan and hung up.

  Looking out the window at the threatening sky, Esme bundled up for the trip downriver. During the week, Wiley had asked her to go out to the big lake with him, but hadn’t mentioned it again. Maybe it was just too cold. She wondered if it wasn’t time to invest in a big down-filled jacket, an item she one time swore she would never wear in New York, no matter how icy it got.

  She dug a plastic bag with handles out of her empty suitcase and put the bundle from George Patos into it, not sure why taking it to Ravenna was so intimidating. She doubted anyone would grab it out of her hands. But knowing that it might be opening another Pandora’s Box made her feel guilty.

  The lobby was empty but for a couple checking in for the weekend standing at the desk talking to Rebecca Johnson. “Stay warm out there, Miss Wynd,” she called. Esme waved and pushed the heavy oak door open. A blast of freezing air hit her in the face, so she jogged the short distance to the bait shop. Wiley was waiting for her, wearing his plaid wool coat, this time a hat with earflaps pulled down and buckled under his chin. Only getting away with the look because he was so cute, she grinned in spite of striving to appear a little less eager than she felt.

  “Well, I’ve got a treat for you today,” he announced.

  “And what is that?”

  “I’m driving you over to Ravenna’s instead of taking the boat.”

  Esme laughed out loud, breathing a simultaneous sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you so much. It’s bitter out today. Will we still have our boat ride out to the big lake this weekend?” She had to weasel the reminder in somehow, and that was the perfect opening.

  “Absolutely,” he said, that smile going right to Esme’s heart this time. Oh boy, I think I’m going to be in trouble. “How long did you want to stay out at Ravenna’s? Because we can watch the sunset on the lake, if you’d like. We’d have to head out to the inlet by four this afternoon.”

  Doing quick math, Esme thought she’d have plenty of time at the cabin. “Were you going to stay there with…I mean at the cabin?” Esme had almost slipped there, asking him if he was staying with her, but he didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t mind.

  “I thought we’d go to Ravenna’s, have coffee, and later I’d come back to pick you up in the boat we’re taking out to the lake. It’s still small enough to get to her cove, but it has an enclosed cabin so we won’t freeze on the open water.”

  Well, that settled it. She had a date with Wiley, and the excitement she felt was so foreign, her cheeks were tingling. In New York, she ended up regretting the few dates she accepted because of disappointment in unmet expectations or disgust when she had to either make excuses and cut the night short or fight them off at the door. Every moment with Wiley was turning out to be pleasant.

  “That sounds like a plan,” she replied.

  He opened the door and held it for her, pointing the way to his truck. It was an older, faded orange Ford dappled with what she learned locals called Michigan rust caused by the salt put on the roads to melt ice in the winter.

  The now familiar old-car smell of Magnus’ Lincoln wafted out. “How old is your truck?” The interior was worn but intact; maybe it was a classic like the Lincoln.

  “Not too old, maybe 1990.”

  “Oh,” she said, giggling. “I thought it might be a classic.”

  “I bought it from Magnus, and it’s pretty old, but not a classic. I wish,” he said, laughing. Looking over at her, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re not embarrassed to be seen with me in my junker, are you?”

  She giggled again. “Where I come from, most people don’t even own c
ars, remember? My father drives a ten-year-old Buick. I don’t have a license; I don’t even know how to drive. So the answer is no. Besides, I don’t think a person’s transportation defines who they are.”

  Both of them burst out laughing. “What a crock!” Wiley roared. “You’re in Michigan, remember? Detroit? Auto capital of the world?”

  “I know, but it sounded good,” Esme replied, laughing. They talked and laughed for the rest of the ride.

  ***

  Saturday morning, Ravenna woke up before five. As soon as they drank their beverages together, Mike would slip out of the cabin for his walk back to Saugatuck. Standing at the counter grinding coffee beans, Ravenna wondered if Esme had ever seen Mike walking by the inn. He lived right down Water Street. If she could remember, she’d ask. The stress of the last week was taking a toll on her memory. What she needed was a good woodland hike and foraging expedition. Fortunately, Mike didn’t linger in the morning; he’d be up and dressed after he smelled the coffee, on his way to his studio so she could continue her own pursuits.

  As much as she hated to admit it, after all their years together, the presence of the young woman from New York had changed the dynamic of their relationship. In the past, to her children and to herself, she’d defended his irresponsible ways, taking the blame, making excuses for him. “I want my space,” she’d explain when asked why he didn’t live with the family. But that didn’t explain his lack of involvement with the children. He loved them, worried for them, but it was almost as if he thought himself above the station of parenting. The interaction at the dining table was all there was. It had never seemed lacking before. In denial about him, she heard the complaints of her children, but felt powerless to answer. What could she do? She was doing penance, guilt a daily reminder of how unworthy she was. Plus, Mike was a man, and he was above her in intellect and in wisdom. Or so he thought. She put the ground coffee in the paper funnel and waited for the water to boil.