A Case for Forgiveness

by Carol Ross

  Jonah thought about how hard he had tried to live up to his dad’s expectations. How he’d tried to take the letters from those journals and apply them to his life; ‘Dear Jonah, I can’t stress to you enough the importance of wealth. In spite of what some people say, Jonah, money can buy you happiness if you know how to use it...’

  Passages ran through his head—how important it was to have financial means, not only to buy material things, but for the prestige that wealth brought. Had his wealth brought him prestige? He wasn’t even sure what that meant now—prestige? He supposed it had earned him a certain status back in Chicago, but prestige meant something entirely different here in Rankins.

  He believed Gramps, Shay, Doc, Bering, Agnes, Mrs. Milner—these were the kinds of people who enjoyed good standing in this town, and not because of how much money they made, but because of the people they were; generous, loyal, honest, and full of integrity.

  He realized now that his dad likely hadn’t had any of those qualities. He wasn’t sure how many he had himself, and that was the toughest realization of all. He’d spent his life trying to be a certain person—but he was also recognizing that all of that ambition and drive had been wasted on trying to acquire the wrong things, and fostering many of the wrong traits.

  “I’m so sorry, Jonah.”

  Jonah stared at the man who truly deserved his love and adoration. The man who had, throughout Jonah’s childhood, shown by his example what mattered in life. His father had stressed the importance of “wealth” equating it with “success.” Gramps had hoped Jonah would discover what was really important on his own. And then, when he hadn’t—when he’d seen how much Jonah had diverted from that foundation that he’d lain—he’d done his best to steer him right again. Sure, his method had been a bit...unorthodox. But it had worked.

  Jonah was so grateful to this man, so incredibly lucky to have him. A lump of emotion welled in his chest and he made a vow to not waste another minute of his life caring about the things that, in the end, really didn’t matter.

  “Gramps, I’m sorry, too. I feel like an idiot for not seeing through my dad’s nonsense. Now I can so clearly see his journals for what they are—the desperate ramblings of a man—a criminal, trying to justify his crimes.”

  “I should have shared this with you years ago, Jonah.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know that I would have heard it the same years ago, Gramps. I probably would have still wanted to see for myself if Dad was right. So thank you. Thank you for...tricking me into coming home. I like who I am when I’m here.”

  Gramps’s face radiated with another big smile. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Jonah?”

  “If you’ll have me. Gramps, if you want a law partner, then yes.”

  Nodding his head, Gramps removed a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his eyes and then his nose. It took a few long seconds before he could speak. “Yes. Yes, I sure would like that, Jonah.”

  And in that moment Jonah knew this was the best career decision he’d ever made.

  Gramps cleared his throat. “So, how are you going to fix things with Shay?”

  “I’m not sure if I can, Gramps. I think she’ll probably forgive me, but I don’t know that she’ll ever trust me. Really trust me like she needs to if we’re going to try again. And then there’s another problem. It’s not a problem for me, it’s just that she believes it is. Anyway, it’s shaped her choices as much as Dad’s journals shaped mine.”

  “You’re talking about her not being able to have kids?”

  “You know about that?”

  “I suspected.”

  Jonah narrowed his eyes and thought that he’d probably more than “suspected.” He didn’t bother to clarify, but he knew that Doc had been the physician who initially treated Shay in Rankins after her miscarriage.

  “It’s a huge issue for her. Shay has always wanted kids. The fact that she can’t is heartbreaking, Gramps. And she can’t seem to get past it.”

  “It may sound harsh, Jonah, but the truth is, there are worse things in life. Much, much worse—and besides, no one gives you any guarantee about what you’re going to get when you sign up to be a parent. I loved your dad, but I didn’t like who he turned out to be all that much.”

  “How do I make Shay see this? How do I make her see that I don’t care if we can’t have kids? We would still have each other—and you. And she’s got more than enough family for all of us. In fact, they seem to be coming out of the woodwork lately.”

  Gramps let out a chuckle. “If you’re open to it, I may have an idea or two.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Jonah,” Doc called out as he strolled into the office. Neither one of them had heard him come in through the front door—not even Francis who was snoozing under the desk at Jonah’s feet. “We all know the trouble his ideas can get us into.”

  “You’re a sneaky old coot—you know that?”

  “If I wasn’t, you’d be in here talking Jonah into something just as foolish as I let you talk me into on an almost daily basis.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense. Now, sit down. We need to help Jonah come up with a plan.”

  Doc’s face lit with eagerness. “Is this about Shay?”

  “Yes, it is. Now listen...”

  “A letter?” Doc said a little while later after Caleb had revealed his plan. “That’s your big idea?”

  “Yes!” Gramps scowled at Doc. “A good old-fashioned letter where Jonah pours his heart out to Shay—letters are prominently featured in a lot of romance stories, you know?”

  “Do tell. You’re an expert in romance novels now in addition to the law?”

  “Women like letters. They like words. Sometimes—and you might want to pay attention here, Doc—men aren’t so great with words.”

  Doc chuckled.

  That was certainly true, Jonah thought, his mouth had gotten him into plenty of trouble where Shay was concerned—and Adele and Laurel, too, for that matter. And speaking of words...

  Doc raised a finger and seemed ready to shout eureka. “He should give her a gift—something special and meaningful and romantic. Women like romantic baubles, too.”

  Gramps rolled his eyes. “Baubles?”

  “You know jewels and...what not.”

  Gramps snuffled out a laugh. “What not? Is that what you’ve been giving to Bernice these days?”

  Doc shrugged a shoulder. “Bernice happens to like flowers. It wouldn’t do you any harm to send Mary Beth a bouquet now and then.”

  “I’ll have you know that Mary Beth doesn’t particularly care for flowers. She says they make her sad because they look so pretty at first, but then they die too fast. She likes candy. She is one of those rare and precious women who doesn’t have a love-hate relationship with chocolate—she just has the love.”

  Jonah sat forward and said, “These are both great ideas, fellas. I’ll write the letter and I already have the perfect—hopefully—bauble. But I might need something even more drastic.”

  The potential implication of what he was about to suggest nauseated him. He felt it might explain a lot for Shay—it certainly had for him now that he’d seen the information through older, more mature eyes, but what if the content only confirmed her belief that he was self-centered and materialistic by nature—that these unattractive traits were genetic or worse?

  Gramps and Doc were staring at him expectantly.

  “I’m thinking I should let her read Dad’s journals, too—if that’s okay with you Gramps?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SHAY WALKED ALONG the waterfront toward the spot where she’d told Jonah she’d meet him. She couldn’t believe August had already arrived. More than a month had passed since they’d learned of Adele’s identity; more than a month since she’d rushed to the edge of that emotional cliff and nearly leapt into something crazy with Jonah.

  She and Jonah had reached a place in their relationship where they could be friends. The sniping, the arguing, and the
recriminations had disappeared, and they’d rediscovered the mutual respect they once shared. And she liked the way Jonah had used the rest of his remaining stay in Rankins; spending time with Caleb, with Bering, Tag and other friends, fishing and hiking, and even doing a little babysitting for the Wattes.

  Adele had been accepted into the James fold and was busy absorbing her heritage, asking questions, and learning how to be a part of a family. Shay had hired her as the Faraway Restaurant’s manager and she was excelling in the position.

  Jonah had taken Adele to lunch, and while not privy to all that had transpired, she knew Jonah had apologized for his assumptions. Jonah told her that Adele had refused to allow herself to be held blameless, insisting that she should have revealed her identity sooner.

  Adele had then told Shay how lucky she was to have someone love her as much as Jonah so obviously did. Burke’s journals had added yet another angle to Shay’s feelings for Jonah. And it all made finally letting him go for good even more difficult.

  Shay spotted Jonah seated at a picnic table—backwards, his long legs stretched out in front of him, elbows resting on the table behind him. Francis sat calmly by his side as if she too were enjoying the view.

  The waterfront was being transformed for Gary and Ingrid’s anniversary party later that evening—pots of flowers had been set about and strings of twinkle lights were hanging here and there. A group of men were assembling a temporary dance floor on a green expanse of lawn.

  Shay went over to where Jonah sat staring into the waters of the bay. Francis rose to greet her.

  Jonah smiled. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” she said, patting Francis before climbing up to sit on the table. She placed her feet on the bench beside Jonah and leaned forward to rest her forearms on her knees.

  “This view,” he said. “I can’t seem to get enough of it these days—ever since I’ve been back. Something just pulls me here. Well, Francis nudges me along, too. She’s gotten to the point where she just stares me down. I put these shoes on and she knows we’re going for a walk. I don’t wear them anymore unless I know I can bring her with me.”

  Shay chuckled. “Francis has you wrapped around her furry paw. You always loved going out on the bay.”

  “She does,” he admitted. “With you,” he added. “I liked going out on the bay with you—the privacy we had out there on the water—the sense that we were really alone for a little while. That can be an elusive feeling in this town.”

  She smiled. “I liked that, too.”

  Jonah’s eyes searched her face.

  “Jonah, I read your letter, and I read your dad’s journals. It’s awful and mind-boggling—you must be reeling. I can’t believe no one ever found out about what he did.”

  “I have Gramps to thank for that. And Doc, too—apparently he knew and never said a word to anyone.” He gave his head a shake. “Those two—they are really something. Like brothers—at least how I imagine brothers would be.”

  Shay wanted to reach over and take his hand but she stopped herself.

  “Jonah, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s crazy,” he said. “How much of my life I’ve lived based on those stupid journals. And it was all a lie.” His voice was filled with disgust. “My father was a criminal. Why couldn’t I see that before?”

  “I don’t think your dad’s love for you was a lie. And I think he wanted what he thought was best for you. He was definitely mixed up about the things that are important in life—the things that truly make a man, or a person for that matter.”

  “Where did that greed come from?”

  Shay watched a bird swoop down close to the water. She wondered what he was fishing for and wished that she and Jonah were out there fishing at this moment, too.

  “I don’t know. Where do anyone’s faults come from?”

  He inhaled a long breath, exhaled, and then turned to look at her. “I’m afraid, Shay. I’m afraid that I’m like him. And I’m afraid that you probably think even worse of me now...”

  His words were filled with so much pain, and his troubled face echoed every word. Shay winced.

  “You do. You’ve told me so many times, Shay. Selfish, career-obsessed, neglectful of Gramps and my friends, disdainful of this town... And the way I treated Adele...”

  This time she did take his hand. She laid it in her lap and placed her palm on his, relishing the feel of his warm skin on hers, how it made her feel safe.

  “No, that’s not why I was flinching, Jonah. I was flinching at the pain in your eyes. When you let me see it—then I know it’s bad. Those journals do explain a lot about you. I understand your motivations so much better now. Thank you for that—for sharing them with me, but some of this stuff I’d already figured out on my own.

  “Jonah, I want you to know that a lot of the things I’ve said to you over the years came out of my own anger and bitterness. I’m so sorry for that. You were right about me being every bit as obsessed with the Faraway Inn as you have been with your law career. I was just so...self-righteous about it because I thought my reasons were so much more pure than yours. That I didn’t have a choice, when in fact you were right—I did. I just couldn’t see that I did.

  “But you have to know that you’re nothing like your dad, Jonah. Even when you tried to be—you couldn’t be—not really. All the gifts you’ve bought for Gramps, the charities that you’ve given to, the pro bono work. The things you’ve done right here in Rankins this summer? Do you think your dad would have done any of those things? Or been proud of you for doing those things?”

  “No.”

  “And putting your life on hold to come home for your gramps—not because you were hiding from your mistakes or running from the law and expecting someone else to clean up the mess you made? That speaks to who you are, Jonah—your love for your gramps.”

  He ran his free hand over his unshaven jaw. Shay’s heart ached to think that he’d been worried that those journals would make her think worse of him.

  “And I know what you were trying to do for me with regards to Adele, and how you handled Konrad? I think the world of you for fighting for me, Jonah, and I won’t ever forget it.”

  “It’s just... My world has pretty much been turned upside down. The things that I want...”

  “Jonah, you still have all of the things you want—a successful career, money, an expensive apartment—your car. None of that has changed. And just because you have these things doesn’t make you a bad person, or mean that you’re like your dad. You earned everything you have, Jonah. You. You didn’t lie or steal or cheat to get where you are. And that you should be proud of. I am. Your gramps is.”

  His gaze froze her in place and yet made her insides—and her resolve—begin to melt.

  “For me it has though. The things I want are totally different than what I thought. Now that I’m...free, I guess, to want them.”

  She broke eye contact because she couldn’t let him head in this direction. “Okay, well, I’m sure that whatever it is you do want now can be yours, too.”

  He stared silently out over the water. He squeezed her hand and Shay’s heart began to beat fast and hard.

  “What if what I want is you, Shay?”

  “Jonah, no... You’re just feeling adrift right now because your life view has changed so dramatically. But that doesn’t change who you are as a person. You’re still an attorney—an excellent attorney. You’re still going back to Chicago. That’s where you’re happy. And I’m staying here. This is where I belong—in Rankins.”

  His eyes were so clear and full of emotion. “I haven’t been happy in a long time, Shay. I can see that now. And I doubt you have been happy, either—not really. I’ve spent my life trying to please a dead man, convincing myself that it would please me, too. And you’ve been married to the inn, using it as some kind of a replacement for the love you think you don’t deserve because of the children you can’t have.”

  “Jonah, I’ve—” She started to deny it, but she kn
ew his words were true. She had attempted to use the inn to fill that empty space inside of her. She’d been unsuccessful, she realized that, too, but she didn’t regret pouring her heart into the inn. Because it had helped, the Faraway Inn had given her a reason to live. But now, she was making plans to step back a little and, like Hannah, appreciate the things about herself that weren’t tied to her career.

  She wasn’t sure she’d ever reach the place where she was completely comfortable with not having children, and in spite of what Janie had said, she could never ask someone else to do the same, but she was going to try and learn to live with it and not hide from it anymore.

  “That may be true to a degree, Jonah, but it’s not so simple for me. I can’t have the life I want. But you can have any life you want.”

  “I want a family and I want a life with you. That’s what I want.”

  A samurai’s sword could not have cut her as surely or as painfully as these words. “Jonah, stop. It’s cruel to say that to me. I can’t have children—you know that. It’s not that I don’t want children.”

  “A family doesn’t have to be a mom, a dad, and two-point-three kids, Shay. A family can be two people—or twenty-two.”

  “But you deserve the chance to have the twenty-two if that’s what you want.”

  Jonah shrugged. “But, Shay, there are no guarantees in life. At any minute our lives could be taken from us—you know that. We both know that. We’ve both suffered plenty of loss, and Gramps’s antics, however unorthodox and imprudent they may have been, showed us that, too.”

  “But you should have options, Jonah. If you marry me you won’t have the option.”

  “I’ve spent the last ten years with that option right in front of me and I’ve never exercised it, Shay. Why do you think that is?”

  She glanced away. “I don’t know,” she answered, her voice choked with emotion.