Flowers in the Snow

by Danielle Stewart

  “I hadn’t gotten to the part where Winnie wrote me a second letter yet. It was just after Stan and I got engaged. It was the happiest I had been in a long time, but I was sad not to be able to share it with the people I loved the most. The day the letter came that all changed. Betty reached into her shoebox of old things and grabbed a faded greeting card covered on every available surface with writing.

  Dear Betty,

  I’ve been waiting so long for this day. We’ve all debated it over and over again. When would the moment be right? When could we share with you the joy we’ve kept secret for so long. That day is today. We heard last week that Stan and Simpson’s father had died. It was one of many factors in our decision. The Klan itself is mostly depleted, and the civil rights movement is forging ahead with great victories. The fear that lived in us, that kept us from communicating, has become smaller than our desperate need to hear from you.

  The first thing I must ask is for is your forgiveness. When the joy of the news I have to tell you subsides, there will undoubtedly be anger for keeping you in the dark. Under the very troubling circumstance by which this all transpired Nate and I felt it necessary to tell no one the truth of the matter. Second, I ask that you please vow to keep this a secret. There are all manners of challenges that would come if you revealed this to anyone.

  I don’t even know where to begin. On that horrible night after the dance, you witnessed so many things. You saw the culmination of hate, the bravery of a hero, and the test of even your own will. But what you didn’t see is the murder of Simpson. That’s because he was not killed. As the fighting ensued he was beaten badly, slashed, and stabbed, but he survived. After I ran home and told Nate what had happened, he charged up to the school. The police had not yet arrived, but the Klan had dispersed, as you would expect cowards to do. Nate found Simpson at the edge of a fire, about to be consumed by it. He lifted his very broken body up and carried him back to our house. We did everything we could to patch him up and then hid him. The following day we got word about who died, and Simpson’s name was on the list. We heard how cold and cruel his mother had been, and we knew if he survived this it wouldn’t be long before they tried again to kill him.

  In that moment Nate and I decided if he were to have any chance at a real life it would need to be far from Edenville. When he was well enough to travel, we packed up our truck in the dead of the night and escaped. Simpson is alive. He is alive and well.

  We’ve opened a special mailbox that doesn’t have our address in case anyone in town still has the desire to hurt us and intercepts one of these letters. Please write back. We are so desperate to hear from you. I pray you’re happy. I pray you forgive our omission of the truth, and I pray to see you again someday soon.

  Your family,

  Winnie, Nate, Alma, and Simpson.

  There was not a composed person or dry eye on the porch as Betty closed the card and placed it back in the box. “I sobbed for hours after I got that. I cried nearly as much when I found out he was alive as I had when I thought he was dead,” Betty explained.

  “Did you tell Stan?” Piper asked, completely intrigued. “He was his brother and your fiancé. Did you do what Winnie asked and keep the secret, or did you tell him?”

  “I told him,” Betty replied incredulously. “I knew darn well if Winnie had known the circumstances, she’d have insisted I tell him. Plus the poor guy walked in on my wailing away like a loony bird, so I had to tell him I had a good reason for it.”

  “What happened next?” Bobby asked, shooting her a look like she was getting off track, and he wanted just the facts of it all.

  “We cried together. We laughed. We got mad they didn’t tell us. And we forgave them. That night we each wrote a letter and sent them to their post office box in Arizona. So started the communication that would span forty more years.

  “You never went to see them?” Frankie asked with a twisted up face. “Arizona isn’t that far.”

  “We saw them once more. Winnie had made sure she’d never step on Edenville soil again. She’d written off the entire state and most of the surrounding ones. Money was very tight all around, so getting there was harder than you think.”

  “I thought you’d never left Edenville,” Piper said. “When I first met you and you went out to Illinois with us you said that.”

  “This trip never existed. My mother thought I was at a girls’ campout for the weekend. We didn’t buy any knick-knacks to commemorate it. It was a secret, so I’ve lived like it never happened. For a long time it was as if none of this ever happened.”

  “That’s certainly the impression you get here in Edenville,” Bobby groaned. “In all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never seen any type of memorial or even the discussion of what happened.”

  “Dark times, Bobby,” Betty said gently. “People were not all bad then, even if it sounded that way from my story. There were plenty of folks who weren’t the least bit prejudiced, probably a lot of stories just like mine. The problem was there were a few terrible voices that came together very loudly. It scared people. When integration was going on people came in from other states to knock on doors and rile up people who otherwise weren’t worked up at all. I don’t blame the whole town, though you might feel different, Simpson; I won’t speak for you.”

  “I’ll be honest, I haven’t given it much thought over the years. I’ve made it a point not to. When I do, it takes me somewhere I don’t want to be.” Simpson busied himself with a couple more handfuls of popcorn and waited for the subject to change.

  “You married Alma?” Jules asked, still looking like she was staring at a ghost. “So she was my aunt? I’d have liked to see you guys. I would have gone wherever to meet her.”

  “I’m sure she’d have loved you,” Simpson said apologetically. “We weren’t in Arizona long before Winnie passed away, and I joined the service. I explained the situation to my commanding officer, and he was empathetic. Being in an interracial marriage was incredibly difficult. We knew we’d do better the farther away we could get. We took Nate with us and traveled around the world.”

  “Did you start a family?” Piper cut in. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “We have two sons. Both in the military now too, and I couldn’t be prouder of them. After I retired Alma and I stayed near my last post on an island off Japan. It was quiet, and we lived very many peaceful years there,” Simpson explained. “Nate lived to be eighty, and we were happy to have him around.”

  “How did you and Alma start dating? I can’t imagine what a whirlwind that must have been,” Jules asked, finally sounding optimistic again.

  Simpson opened his mouth to speak, slipped his hat off his head, and held it to his chest. When he couldn’t seem to muster the words, Betty cut in.

  “That’s Simpson’s story to tell if he ever feels like he wants to. He’s been on a long journey back here, and I’m sure he’s exhausted. We should let him get settled. I’ll need to do some stuff up in Jules’s old room to make it comfortable for you. Unless you like pink and frills?”

  “I told Alma a million times I didn’t want to put you out, but she made me swear I’d come out here to you. It was her dying wish, but you should know I’m not sure I’ll be staying all that long. Being back here . . .” he trailed off as he drew in a deep breath.

  “Well you’re staying at least the night; the rest we can talk about tomorrow. I’m just so happy to have you here. Seeing you again, wrapping my arms around you, gives me so much joy,” Betty squeezed his shoulder with one hand and wiped her tears away with the other.

  “You remind me so much of Winnie,” he smiled and patted her hand that rested on his shoulder. “Alma is right; she’d be mighty proud of you.”

  “I don’t want this to be over,” Jules admitted as she wiped a tear from her own eye. “My family just grew tonight. You’re my daddy’s brother. You look so much like him, and I don’t want to go home. I have a million questions for you about him. Please don’t be
too much in a rush to leave. I’d be sorry to see you go.”

  “Me being back here, letting people know I’m alive after all these years, will surely bring lots of turmoil. I’d hate to bring all that to kind folks. You seem like such normal people,” Simpson explained, as he looked them all over. “I’d hate to put you through any drama because of me.”

  A low laugh broke out between all of them as Piper spoke. “With the exception of Frankie here, you’d be the only one on this porch so far not to come with trouble. And her only excuse is the fact that she’s not been on the planet long enough to have stirred any up yet. We might look sweet and innocent, but we’ve all had our share of trouble.”

  “I promise I won’t be running out of here too quick. I gave my word to Alma, but don’t go out of your way for me. I’ve lived in the farthest corners of the world in all sorts of conditions; I can be happy anywhere.”

  “I hope that includes Edenville,” Jules said, looking at him again and seeming amazed by how much he resembled her father.

  “We should pile the kids into the car and get them into their own beds,” Bobby suggested as he rose and pulled Piper to her feet. Everyone followed suit and started making their way toward the door. Bobby stopped in front of Simpson and extended his hand.

  “I just want you to know your brother Stan was like a father to me. He was one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met. He’s part of the reason I became a police officer.”

  Simpson nodded his head and shook Bobby’s hand. “I’ve heard all about you in Betty’s letters. I’m sure my brother would be glad to know you’ve been here looking out for Betty and Jules. I know I’m glad.”

  “I look forward to getting to know you better,” Piper chimed in as she passed on her way into the house to retrieve the twins. Jules and Frankie laced their fingers together and stood before Simpson, not sure what they were supposed to do next. Luckily he had something to say.

  He addressed Frankie with a smile. “You look so much like your grandmother Betty back when I knew her. You’ve got that same look in your eye.”

  “Which look?” Frankie asked, glancing up at her mother nervously, as though she had something wrong with her.

  “The look that says you’ll be the kind of person who is going to shake the world. Maybe it’ll just be a gentle shake, but that’s all it takes some times,” Simpson assured her.

  “I just don’t get it. That whole story doesn’t make sense to me. You all suffered. You had to stay away from each other. You didn’t get to see your family, and my Grammy was so alone. It’s terrible.” Frankie shook her head and looked over at Betty for some advice, the way she always did in tough situations.

  “The story is terrible, but our lives weren’t. We found our own kinds of happiness. But the world is still far from perfect. It’s your generation I'm counting on to take that hurt and pain and passion to the next level.”

  “How?” Frankie asked, looking utterly confused by the responsibility.

  “By being exactly who you are. When you see someone in pain, stop and help them. When you see someone alone, be a friend. Know there is value to every single life. The most important lesson I ever learned was that every single group of people, divided up however they like by race, religion, or beliefs, has in it the most wonderful, kind-hearted, peaceful, and loving people that you will be happy you met, and every single group of people, divided however they like by race, religion, or beliefs, has in it the poorest excuse for humans, and you will be sorry you met them. There is no way to know by looking at someone which type they are.” Betty reached out and pulled Frankie in for a hug. “It’s a lot to think of when you’re still small. That’s why we’re all here. You don’t have to get it right all the time. We’ll be around to help you.”

  “I love you, Grammy.” Frankie sighed into Betty’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to go through so much. I wish I could make that better.”

  “You’ve made it better every day you’ve been alive. You turned me into a Grammy. I can’t tell you how much that helped me. No you go on and help your mama get the baby set to go.” She kissed the crown of Frankie’s head and waved them all inside. “Clay, will you take Simpson in and get him a plate while I get the room upstairs settled for him?”

  Clay stood and kissed Betty on the cheek. “You find ways to impress me more every day. Come on Simpson; let’s get you something to eat.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about your restaurant, Clay. I’m looking forward to eating there,” Simpson complimented, but he stopped short when Clay waived him off.

  “It’s Betty’s place really. She’s just kind enough to let me cook there sometimes. She’s brilliant with food, and now I know why.”

  The men disappeared through the screen door of the house, and Betty began to follow, but Michael caught her arm.

  “Hold up,” he said, and she turned to face him. “The lawyer in me has a million questions about the legal side of what happened to Simpson: whether anyone was brought to justice for the murders. I’ll go find those answers on my own rather than dragging anyone through that.”

  “But?” Betty asked, raising a knowing eyebrow at her son-in-law. She could read him like a book, and he had a tricky look in his eyes.

  “I saw that letter as you were reading it. Maybe no one else noticed but it was far longer than you read. Is there any reason you stopped short? Anything else we should know about Simpson being back here?”

  “Damn you, Michael Cooper, and your impeccable vision and inquisitive nature. We’re going to have our hands full if Frankie has inherited that from you. Yes, the letter was much longer.”

  “It’s your personal letter; you have no obligation to share with any of us if you don’t want to. I’m just saying if there is anything in there that means trouble, you know you can tell me. If there is more to the story, you can share it with me.” He looked down at her affectionately, and she felt so lucky to have had him marry into the family.

  Betty pulled the letter from her pocket and handed it over. “Is anything ever uncomplicated with us? Why should we start now? Just don’t get all worked up about it, okay?”

  “Do I ever get worked up about anything?” Michael challenged with a mischievous smile.

  “No you don’t, and thank goodness for that because I’m not sure what I’d do if you and Jules both were hotheads.” With a laugh she headed toward the screen door. “I wouldn’t give that letter to anyone else; you should know that. She mentions you in the letter, but don’t let it go to your head.”

  Michael nodded and chuckled as he unfolded the paper and skimmed to catch up to the part Betty hadn’t read. Sitting alone on the porch he tried to understand why Betty had withheld this from the group.

  With Simpson being alone now I know old ghosts that we’ve fought to keep at bay will surface again. When I left Edenville I left with the people who loved me. When he left, all he had with him was the knowledge that his own family wanted him dead. The physical toll that beating took on him eventually healed, but the heartbreak is still there. He’s covered it over with our love, but I’m afraid of what will happen when I’m gone. If he stays here on this quiet island, he will surely go mad. Even now, the less able I am to be with him the more I hear the nightmares consume him in his sleep.

  I truly believe he must face this. I don’t know the legal ramifications that might await him. Perhaps if Michael is as brilliant a lawyer as you always go on about, he can help with that. He’s lived under an alias so long, and I don’t want him to get in any trouble, but he must face his past. He must go back to Edenville and heal once I’m gone. If he doesn’t you’ll lose us both, and I don’t want that to happen.

  Help him navigate the transition back to being Simpson. Help him face the sorrow of not only losing me but of all that’s happened to him. Remind him of the fun we all had and the love we all shared.

  I’d be lying if I said it would be easy. He never speaks about the past. But you have this annoying quality of getting people
to open up, and I implore you to use it on him. It was a promise to me that’s brought him there, but it’ll be up to you to keep him long enough to change anything in his heart.

  There are a lot of ways you can love someone. Simpson is my best friend, my husband, the father of my children, and he takes up the largest place in my heart. But you, Betty, were the great love of my life. I’m counting on you. Simpson saved my mother’s life, and now he needs saving.

  Michael sat for a moment as he folded the letter and held it tight in his hand. He could hear the bustle of everyone packing up in the house and saying goodbye. The enormity of what Alma was asking of Betty was hard to wrap his head around. The legal side of what had happened could be figured out, he assumed, but the task of fixing someone’s broken heart was a tall order. Before he could let that worry overwhelm him Betty stepped back outside.

  “Quite a job I have ahead of me,” Betty sighed as she tossed her dish towel over her shoulder.

  “Good thing you’ve got an extensive amount of experience in the field of fixing everyone,” Michael reassured her.

  “The problem is I’ve barely gotten my own heart fixed on some of these matters. This is the first time I’ve talked about it in so long. I may not be up to the task of helping him at all,” Betty confessed as she put her hand up to her aching forehead.

  “I guess you better get your gardening gloves on then,” Michael instructed as Betty twisted her face in confusion. “You’ve got some more flowers to grow, and the ground is ready for snow. It’ll be difficult but with you Betty, nothing is impossible.”

  *The End of Flowers in the Snow*

  Continue the story in Book 2 of the Edenville Series coming Spring 2015!

  Are you curious about how Betty’s modern day family came to be? You can read how it all began in Chasing Justice Book 1 of The Piper Anderson Series. Download your FREE copy today.