They heard the distinct sound of Muzzy’s motorbike outside. She and Harold were the last ones to arrive.
She walked in with her ice frosted goggles still on, dragging a windblown Harold behind her, apologizing for being late.
Harold was tall and lanky with light brown hair cut close and proper. He reminded Claire a bit of Gordon. Younger, of course, and much more shy. If that were possible. He had wide straight teeth and hazel eyes beneath his round glasses. Too much time using the typewriter by candlelight, Muzzy said. Muzzy had to practically thrust him forward and he blushed as everyone greeted him.
“The men are in the living room,” Arianna said. He took direction well and left the room just as Claire returned downstairs. She pulled out a chair and reached for a carrot. Maura nudged her hand, knocking the carrot out and replaced it with a lemon tart.
“It’s a party. Granted we’ve had livelier ones, still, eat carrots on yer own time.” She winked.
With the women engaged in treats and gossip in the kitchen and the men talking of future plans with drinks, Scottie and Jean paired off and sat on the sofa, talking of things important in the world of young boys.
Both were shy and had never really gotten close for whatever reason, but now they had a common thread. Something that brought them together. Both of them had a parent that would always be a mystery.
Closer to midnight the group began to intermingle; men with tired glassy eyes, women flushed and groaning with too much good food.
Jonathan announced that it was five minutes to midnight and everyone gathered in the living room.
Seeing an opportunity in the form of Aryl standing momentarily alone, Muzzy wiggled her hand out of Harold’s grip and she sidled up to him.
“Wanna go on an adventure?” she whispered.
“What kind of adventure?” Aryl asked, his eyes full of caution.
“I’m sniffing out a story and don’t want to go alone. And, there’s a bit of a hike involved. I can’t just drive up the road with my camera in tow.”
“What’s the story?” he asked, still leery, but faced her now with curiosity.
“It has to do with Peter.”
“What’s he done?”
“Well, nothing that I know of. My professional opinion and gut instinct is that he’s mixed up with some bad people.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because he told me to be careful nosing around somewhere I shouldn’t. Said he didn’t want me to get hurt.”
“Then maybe it’s not a good idea you go snooping around.”
“Snooping around is what I do, Aryl. Now if you don’t go with me to check this place out, I’ll ask someone else or I’ll just go alone.”
“You’re not going alone,” Aryl said. “I’ll go with you. But we aren’t getting too close.”
“Never. I just want to see what’s at the end of that road and if it has anything to do with Peter looking guilty as sin when I told him about the threats to my paper.”
“Threats to your paper?” Aryl asked with alarm.
“I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now I just need to know if you’re up for a hike.”
Aryl wasn’t crazy about the idea. A secretive guy like Peter visiting long dirt roads in the middle of the woods wasn’t all that hard to figure out. He was tempted to tell Muzzy exactly what was going on and save her the gas in her motorbike of going out there. But, knowing her, she’d go anyway to verify facts.
He resigned.
“I suppose we can’t say anything to anyone about this?” he asked.
She flashed a smile and went back to Harold just in time for the countdown.
Claire flew across the room as it began.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Aryl said, doing his best to sound convincing.
“You looked uncomfortable.”
“Muzzy is just being Muzzy,” he grinned as everyone chanted the seconds down. “Now kiss me. We have a whole new year to look forward to.”
Episode Seven
"Brother of Mine"
Jonathan stood at the window, coffee in hand, watching the snow fall thick and swirling. He'd gotten up at the usual time, hoping beyond reason that he would work today. They'd heard the reports and seen the signs in the sky. The old timers rubbed aching joints, looking warily to the east long before the dark menacing clouds were visible.
Birds and small furry animals had begun making themselves scarce in the last two days. The wind had changed, chilled and become more constant, only giving way to sudden gusts. Jonathan drew in a long breath through his nose, held it and let it out slowly. He'd been hoping in vain. The massive winter storm they all knew was coming had arrived and there was nothing to do but wait it out.
He heard Ava shuffling around upstairs, getting Jean and Amy ready for the day. As much as it bothered him to lose a day's work, he supposed he didn't mind staying cozy at home with his family. He smiled as Ava came down the stairs with Amy on her hip.
"Morning."
"Good morning," she said as she crossed the room and gave him a peck. "Looks terrible out there."
"It is terrible out there."
She didn't need to ask if he was going to the boat. On a day like today it was impossible to find the mailbox, much less the marina.
Amy reached tiny hands for Jonathan and he took her with one arm, holding his coffee out with the other.
"Is Jean still in bed?"
"Yes," Ava said, tightening her robe against the chill. "I thought I'd let him sleep since there won't be any school today."
"I went to school on days like this," Jonathan said, grinning.
"I suppose this generation isn't as tough as ours, Mr. Garrett," she teased. "I asked the school yesterday and they said most likely it would be canceled. I don't think I'd send him even if it wasn't."
She glanced past him out the window and watched in awe for a moment at the white fury mother nature was unleashing. "I don't see how you could even stand up straight with those winds."
She shook her head and went into the kitchen. "It's a good day to bake cookies and play cards," she called as she poured herself coffee.
Sitting at the table, blowing on her coffee before taking a sip, she realized she forgot to bring in the bit of leftover Christmas ham from the box out back for breakfast this morning. She didn't want to go out there to fetch it and wondered if she could sweet talk Jonathan into getting it. He was dressed after all.
"What's for breakfast?" Jonathan asked as he walked past her and took a seat. Amy had a fisted grip on his shirt and had laid her head down on his shoulder, snuggled close.
"Funny you should mention that," Ava said with a smile.
He groaned with false irritation. "What did you forget outside?"
"The ham. Finish your coffee first," she said. He nodded. Apparently it didn't take that much sweet talking. Jonathan loved ham and they had it so rarely.
"I think I'll get on cleaning the attic today," Jonathan said. Ava knew he wouldn't be content to sit around eating cookies while reading or playing cards all day.
"Leave the hatch open so you get some heat up there."
"I will. Do you need me to take anything up?"
"There are a few Christmas decorations that Claire returned in the closet by the door, if you could put those away."
"Sure. Anything else?"
Ava stopped and looked around, thinking. "I don't think so. If I come across anything, I'll yell up. I hope you'll find more things for me to take to the winter market."
"I'll see what I can come up with."
Ava went to turn on the radio to drown out the sound of the howling wind. She glanced at Amy and turned the volume down.
"Is she asleep?" Jonathan asked, leaning his head toward Amy.
"No, but she looks like she wants to. She really is a daddy's girl," Ava said.
Jonathan lifted his free shoulder. "The ladies love me," he said with a wink.
Ava laughed, rolling her eyes as she went to start the biscuits.
***
Jonathan pulled down the door to the attic and peered up. With an oil lamp in one hand he climbed the stairs and stood hunched over waiting for his eyes to adjust. The light from the two small windows at each end didn't provide a lot of light on a day like today.
There were piles everywhere. He rubbed his chin, wondering where to begin. Ava handed up the decorations to be put away and he decided to start there. In the far corner were their personal belongings and the trunk they arrived with. Inside it were some of Jean and Amy's outgrown clothes, a few mementos as well as larger clothes from Ava's pregnancy, just in case. His parent's Christmas decorations had become theirs and were stacked next to the trunk. The hard flat top was the perfect place to set the oil lamp.
Everything else had belonged to his parents. He thought about them for a moment, feeling it was too soon in his life to be rifling through an attic full of inherited things. Before he could think too heavily on them and feel the sting of missing them, he got to work. He took a few minutes to move and neatly arrange the holiday items and then cleared out the rest of the side wall. With that space free, he began the big dig.
He found several sets of candle holders; some metal, some crystal. He couldn't tell in the dim light if they were cheap crystal and set them aside for Ava to look at later. Doilies, small paintings and a set of tin pots so old there were small holes rusted in the bottom corners were all set aside.
In a smaller trunk were clothes from an era long gone. He guessed these clothes might be his parent's, though some looked Victorian and could possibly have belonged to their parents. A whale bone corset and a bustle-he thought-along with women's lace up boots and long flowy nightgown garments. Good material for Ava to work with if nothing else. All of these he set aside for her to decide what to do with and imagined Arianna could create quite a racy display at the winter market with all these relics.
He kept digging and unboxing, separating into things he firmly wanted to keep and things that could go to the winter market to help them get by.
He came across a flimsy wooden box and knelt down to open it. He found objects from his childhood. Clothes so small he couldn't believe he'd ever worn them, a few toys and books and a grainy wrinkled black and white picture of his parents and himself as a baby. He had to laugh.
He looked about 9 months old, but lay limp in his mother's arms, his mouth hanging slack, his eyes off to the side. Then he frowned. His parents weren't smiling. He wondered why this picture wasn't downstairs in the album with the others and then answered himself quickly. It was a terrible picture. It must have cost a fortune to have done and the photographer didn't seem to have put any effort into it at all. He snapped it before he or his parents were ready. Still, Jonathan marveled at how young his parents looked. They were barely adults when they had him. Seventeen? Or was it eighteen? He couldn't remember. Jonathan tucked it back into place. He'd keep it, of course. It wasn't worthy of displaying, but he'd want to show Jean and Amy what their grandparents looked like when they were young one day.
He kept shuffling through the clothes, holding them up. Some looked near new still. Barely worn, no stains. He laughed at himself. Even as a baby he was neat to a fault. He folded them again as best he could-which wasn't very good-and thought that if he and Ava ever had a son, these clothes, while dated, were in great shape and a son would look very good in them. He smiled, knowing they couldn't afford another child, but hoping that one day they would be able to.
At the bottom of the box was an envelope and he opened it. His brows pulled together tightly.
"What the..." His eyes raced over the legal paperwork and his mouth slowly fell open. He blinked and read it again.
Jonathan and Margaret Garrett hereby relinquish all parental rights to their infant son, Jeffrey Garrett on this date, April 10th, 1901 to the Boston Orphan Asylum...
Jonathan sat and stared before reading on. More legal speak about the steps to reclaim him should they change their mind later...the option to be notified if Jeffrey were selected for adoption for one last chance to reconsider and the option for Jeffrey to be given their information when he turned eighteen. The box next to 'NO' on all was checked.
He rocked back on his heels. He had a brother.
Jonathan would have been three years old. Surely he would have remembered? He closed his eyes and tried to think back, tried to pull his earliest memory which was his father working at his desk, his mother in the kitchen. Walking into school for the first time and sitting next to a gap toothed, grinning kid with wild, curly brown hair named Aryl.
Nothing about a brother. He couldn't remember a baby, his mother growing big around the middle, couldn't remember them going away for a few days and returning home with a bundle or the commotion of a home birth.
Jonathan quickly dug out the picture again. He looked closer. This infant wasn't him. It looked like him. There was a distinct resemblance in the hair and eyes. Jonathan's own eyes narrowed as he studied the child and realized there was something wrong with him. The vacant eyes and slack jaw...he didn't look like a normal nine month old child.
Slowly, Jonathan let his arm fall to his leg, keeping his eyes on the picture.
"This was a goodbye picture," he whispered, looking now at his parent's hard expression. "This was for you to remember him by."
Back and forth from the picture to the paperwork, Jonathan's eyes traveled trying to make sense of it all.
They'd never said a word. Never even hinted...
As if punched in the gut he blew out his breath and stared into the dark recesses of the attic.
How could they just give up a child? Their child...his brother. Because he had problems? Because he obviously wasn't right?
Jonathan studied the picture again and wondered what was wrong with him. Jeffrey. The vacant stare and the lack of muscle tone were glaring to him now. Jeffrey had a name, but did the disease or condition afflicting him have one?
He was still stunned and confused, but the smallest bit of anger began to seep around the edges. You do not simply throw away a child because he's different.
He thought of Amy. She was born so early, labor triggered after Ava fell and they couldn't stop it. They warned him that she might be too small to live. And if she did live, she may have problems. Learning, walking, vision, constant sickness. All this he braced himself for and worried about, but never did it cross his mind that if she did suffer the common afflictions of prematurity would he get rid of her! Toss her aside and better luck next time.
He tucked the picture inside the legal paperwork, forgot about the work to be done in the attic and went downstairs.
Ava was in the living room reading a book to Jean and Amy.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked as he sailed past and into the kitchen.
"Of course. Jean, can you finish reading the book to your sister?" she asked. He nodded, took the book and scooted closer to Amy.
Ava, with a worried knit brow, sat next to Jonathan at the table.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, eyeing the folded papers in his hand.
"No. I found something in the attic. Something that changes everything."
"Everything?"
"Well, for me. What I always knew and believed."
"Jonathan, I don't understand. Are we alright?" Of course her first concern was their home, livelihood and family.
"We are. I'm just still in shock."
He stared at the papers, her eyes joined his and then she reached out for them.
"Can I see?" she asked, her heart beating wildly, expecting some sort of catastrophe to descend upon them. He let go of the papers.
First she looked at the picture. As with Jonathan, she smiled, then frowned. Then the papers. She read silently and quickly looked up, mouth agape.
"You had a brother?" she whispered.
Jonathan nodded. He'd folded his hands, resting his mouth on tightly laced fingers.
"Why did they give him up?" she asked.
"I assume because he had some disease."
She looked at the picture again. "Yes, I can see that now, but..."
He nodded. They were in silent agreement that this was not reason enough to abandon your flesh and blood.
"I don't know what to think of my parents right now," Jonathan said.
Ava reached over, laid a hand on his arm and looked at him with pity.
"Whatever their reasons, I'm sure they thought they were doing the right thing."
Jonathan shook his head, unconvinced. "I know them. Or, I thought I knew them. I just can't picture them doing something like this." But there it was, in black and white, right before his eyes.
Ava glanced at the picture again. "I wonder if he's still alive?"
Jonathan's eyes flickered up. Of course finding his brother, now that he knew he had one, was a thought that would have come eventually. After he was over reeling from shock and resisting budding anger at his parents.
"I mean to find out," Jonathan said.
"I suppose you'd begin here," she said, holding up the papers. "At the Boston Orphan Asylum."
"He wasn't an orphan," Jonathan grumbled to himself. "If they're still open. If not, I can track down the attorney who drew these up for them.” He said them as if he was disgusted. In truth, he was.
"Don't judge them yet," Ava said softly, reading his expression. "You don't know the whole story. You don't know their reasons."
"I have an idea to their reasons. My father's at least. You know how hard he pushed me when I was young. He demanded perfection and didn't stop until he was certain that I would be the best. And then," he said with a humorless laugh. "He took credit for my success when I was." Jonathan gestured toward the picture. "Whatever Jeffrey had, he would never be the best at anything. There was no creating a prodigy and there was nothing to be proud of."
When he thought of his own childhood that had been sacrificed for a parent's pride and Jeffrey cast aside for the same reasons, he all but hated his parents and was glad they weren't there.
Purling Road - The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-10 Page 17