by Rachel Hauck
“So why did she leave him? Why sixty years of silence?” Jack reached for Granny’s note. “There has to be more.”
“Jack, being an unwed mother back in the day was scandalous. She probably got sent away or chose to leave.”
“He was born October 27, 1951.”
“What?” Taylor slipped the birth certificate and Granny’s note from his grasp. “Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow . . . Jack, come on.”
She darted down the stairs, swinging by her room to grab her handbag, and ran out of the house, Jack trailing.
“Where we headed?”
“Daddy’s.” She jumped into the Lincoln like Batman. Jack jumped in like Robin.
“Ah, light dawns. He was born October 27, 1951?”
“Yep. Daddy is Jimmy and Colette’s son. He has to be.” She gunned the accelerator, beating the yellow light, the big car floating down the road.
When they pulled along the curb in front of Daddy and Ardell’s, Taylor cut the engine and the lights. “Let’s go.”
“Hold up, Batman.” He lightly gripped her arm. “What’s the plan?”
“Um, ask Daddy how long he’s known he was adopted.”
“You assume he knows? Didn’t Granny say she was tired of secrets? He’s sixty-four years old, Colette. You can’t just barge in waving that birth certificate. You don’t even know the whole story.”
“Yes, we do.” She waved Granny’s note. “She forged letters to break them up.”
“But that doesn’t explain how Colette’s baby became Peg’s.” He held up his phone. “Why not give Colette a call? See if she’ll confirm anything before you go to your dad.”
“But I—” Taylor exhaled, her enthusiasm deflating. “How does it feel to be so smart?”
Jack grinned and ran his hand over her shoulder. “I’m not smart, just less emotionally invested.”
She turned to him. “So Colette gets pregnant and leaves town? And Jimmy is away in Korea and he never knows?”
“According to your granny, she wanted to break them up.”
“But she saved his letters to her?”
“This is life-changing for him, Tay. For Jimmy and Colette. Do you want to do this? Didn’t your granny mention something about using caution?”
“Yeah, but, Jack, I can’t keep this to myself. Look at what lies have done to the family. How lives have been altered. What if this is what led to Granny and Grandpa divorcing? What if this led to Jimmy and Colette never getting married in their chapel?”
“But those lives are in motion, babe. Have been for years. Colette’s in New York, Jimmy’s here. Your dad is Peg Branson’s son, and she’s not around to defend herself.”
“Exactly.” Taylor tapped the birth certificate against her hand. “That’s why she wrote the letter. She’s attempting to make amends.”
“Babe, I’m not saying you can’t bring this to light. I’m saying be sure.”
Taylor glanced at her dad’s place, the windows golden with the light. “I guess if you’re going to change a man’s life, it’s best to do it after a good night’s sleep. He and I have already had a come-to-the-truth day.”
Jack drew her across the bench seat for a kiss. “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s get married. In the chapel.”
She regarded him. “Jack, really?”
His eyes glistened and sparked. It was the same look he got when he was onto a good ad campaign.
“I want to marry you. Properly. With friends, family, the church, the white dress and tuxedo, flowers, reception, the works. And neither one of us hearing, ‘If it doesn’t work out we can walk away . . .’ ” His proposal launched a soberness in the air and a weight settled over her. And she heard a faint but very real whoosh-thump. God’s presence. It’s good to be home, Lord.
“Okay, yes, I’ll marry you. With the flowers and white dress.”
“In the wedding chapel?”
“If Coach says yes.” She held his face for a kiss. “But can we wait a little? I want to sort things out with Daddy. I have some mending to do and I want him to walk me down the aisle.”
Jack cradled her cheek in his hand. “Absolutely, agreed.”
“And I’d like not to be pregnant.”
“You know I’m not going anywhere. Just tell me when.”
“I love you, Jack Gillingham.” She winked, touching her lips to his. “I like the sound of that.”
“How about, ‘I love you too, Taylor Gillingham’?”
“Nice.”
“Guess I’ve made my decision. I’ll talk to Sam tomorrow.” He glanced back at Daddy’s. “Come on, let’s go home. We’ll figure the rest of this out in the morning.”
“Home? Heart’s Bend?”
“Let’s not get carried away. But yeah, home.”
“So, no London?”
“No London. I want our kid to grow up knowing our wacky families.”
Driving through the coming evening, twilight already slipping through the horizon, Taylor listed home as her favorite word.
She’d come home to her heavenly Father, her earthly father, her husband, and to a truth that just might set everyone free.
COLETTE
She insisted on keeping their plans to themselves, taking the night to sleep on it, but Colette barely slept a wink, the dead parts of her heart coming alive and filling her with such joy.
She’d come home to her true love.
As she dressed, she hummed to herself, listening for Jimmy’s rap on the door. She’d sent a disappointed Ford back to New York. Give him a few days and he’d come around. Poor fella wasn’t used to Colette telling him what to do.
Crossing the warm, light room for a jacket, Colette peered out at the river easing along the edge of the grounds, the light of a late-September Saturday morning swimming along with the current.
If she wasn’t sure last night, she was now. She loved Jimmy Westbrook and she’d not wait longer than necessary to marry him.
True love could not be defined by time or space.
Her heart raced when she heard his knock. Didn’t he look handsome in his pressed shirt and creased jeans? His silver fox hair trimmed and neatly combed.
But it was the light in his blue eyes that spoke to her heart. Love. Pure, simple love.
“Ready?”
“I’m ready.” She reached for her wristlet. “What do you think they’ll say?”
“ ‘What do we need to do to help?’ ”
Colette stopped, holding Jimmy back from another step. “And we’re agreed? We will not tell Drummond? We’ll be aunt and uncle, right?”
He nodded. “I think it’s best all around.”
So, to the grave. Just like she and Peg pledged from the start.
Jimmy drove slowly across town to Peg’s old place. Colette rode next to him, like she used to, her arm tucked in by his side.
“Ready?” he said, helping her out his side, nodding toward the house.
A nervous prick raced through Colette. Like opening-night jitters. Or before she walked out on a talk show.
Jimmy rang the doorbell, gave her hand a squeeze.
Taylor opened the door, surprised, then welcoming them with a grand grin. “Jack, Jimmy and Colette are here.”
He jogged down the stairs in a pair of golf shorts. “Hey, you two, what’s going on? Where’s Ford?”
“On his way to New York.” Colette sat next to Jimmy on the sofa, still holding his hand.
“We’ve got some news,” Jimmy said with a quick glance at Colette. “We’re getting married.”
“Married? Really?” They exchanged a look.
“Next Saturday,” Colette pressed on. “At my wedding chapel.”
“That’s fantastic. It’s about time.” Taylor wrapped her in a hug. “This is amazing.”
“What brought this on?” Jack said, still standing.
“We discovered we’re still in love at eighty-two and eighty-three,” Jimmy said. “Taylor, we’d like your help if you’re willing.”
“Ab
solutely. And I’ll be your photographer.”
“I was wondering if you’d be my matron of honor, Taylor.” Colette thought the world looked lovely behind the wavy glass of tears. “I’ll hire another photographer.”
“Of course, yes, I’d be honored.”
“I have a dress designer in New York and I have my assistant ringing her for a dress. Zoë will be here Monday to help, and my coauthor, Justine, is coming too. We’re adding to the Colette Greer story.”
“Have you told Daddy?” Taylor asked.
“We’ll get over there later today,” Jimmy said, standing, pulling Colette up with him. “Right now we’re on our way to ask Doc to be my best man.”
“Wait, wait—” Taylor bounced up the stairs, returning with an old jewel box.
“Where did you get this?” Colette reached for it as Taylor passed it over. “This belonged to my mother.”
“I found it among Granny’s things.”
“I knew she had it. She kept telling me she didn’t.”
“Open it.”
Colette checked with Jimmy, who nodded. She sat back down and lifted the lid. “Letters.”
“They’re from you, Jimmy.”
He sank down next to her. “From the army.”
Colette peered at him. “She took your letters.”
“There’s a note in there from her, a confession, if you will.” Taylor angled up, tapping the white, folded note. “And Daddy’s birth certificate.”
Colette’s hand trembled as she pulled it from the box. “Then you know.”
“You’re Daddy’s parents. And my grandparents.”
“I reckon the cat’s out now, Lettie.”
Oh, she was so glad to have Jimmy sitting next to her.
“Granny wrote me a note saying she didn’t want to keep the secret any longer and gave me the key to this box, which Jack found under an attic floorboard. Seems to me she wasn’t sure she wanted the truth to come out or not, but if you ask me, it always does.”
“We weren’t going to tell your father,” Colette said, the shame of it all having weakened with time. But she still echoed some of 1951’s sorrows.
“But don’t you want to? After all this time. The secrets are out.”
“We didn’t want to disrupt his life,” Jimmy said.
“But now I know,” Taylor said.
“And she almost told him last night,” Jack said.
Colette bumped Jimmy’s shoulder. “What do you think, love?”
“I guess if Taylor here knows . . .”
“I don’t understand.” Taylor sat in the chair across from the sofa. “If you loved each other, if you built the chapel for her, why didn’t you get married?”
“The chapel wasn’t complete when I went to Korea.”
“But we said our own vows, didn’t we, Jims?”
So they wove the story for Jack and Taylor, confirming what they’d guessed the night before.
When they finished, the reverb of their voices echoed through the nearly empty room.
Then Taylor’s low question, “Why would Granny be so mean?”
“The war, the death of our parents, took its toll on her. She was always jealous of my relationship with our father. Her bitterness seeped deeper and deeper in time. But when I had the baby, I couldn’t manage so I turned to her. She gladly took him but made me promise never to come back. To not tell Jimmy. To leave them alone. So I did. I think she felt she’d finally won something over me.”
“But now it’s like she’s giving it all back to you.”
“I suppose she is.” Colette smoothed her hand over the box. “My mamá’s box. She didn’t have any jewels to put in it, but my father always promised her he’d fill it someday.”
“Peg filled them with Coach’s letters. Those are jewels,” Jack said.
“Indeed they are.” Colette clutched the packet over her heart. “I’m going to read them all slowly, savoring every word.”
Jimmy laughed. “You’ll get a bunch of details about how bad the mess food was and how much I missed you.” He took up the birth certificate, clearing his throat.
“I guess Peg kept the original,” Colette whispered.
“This means the world to me.” The document shook in Jimmy’s trembling hand.
“There’s a picture of you too.” Taylor reached past Colette and into the box. “I think this is you. With Daddy as a baby.”
Jimmy’s eyes brimmed as he pressed his fist to his lips. “Yes, that’s me with DJ. Peg came by with him just as I was about to burn down the chapel.”
“You were going to burn it down?” Jack said. “Really?”
Jimmy slipped his arm around Colette and she never wanted him to remove it. “I thought I’d lost her forever. The chapel was nothing more than a reminder.”
“But this week we’ve found our way home. We’re getting married. In our chapel.” Colette took the image from him. “No more about the past for now. Full steam ahead into today, tomorrow, and our wedding next Saturday. Will you help us?”
Taylor got out her phone. “I can get Emma to help. She’s a whiz at planning. We need cake, flowers, and music. Too bad the old wedding shop is closed down. If you want anything specific, tell me and we’ll do our best to get it. Emma, get over here, we’re planning a wedding. No, not mine. Just get over here. It’s a surprise.”
“It does my heart proud to see sisters getting along,” Colette said. “As if Peg and I didn’t make a royal mess of your lives.”
“Lettie, we need to tell Drummond.”
“But we agreed, Jims.”
“That was before Taylor and Jack knew, before this box.”
“I agree,” Taylor whispered.
“Me too.” Jack was on board as well.
She didn’t like confrontation or delivering bad news, but wasn’t that how she got into this mess in the first place? Brushing her hands over her skirt, as if to shoo away her jitters, Colette stood.
“I guess we’ll be heading to see Drum, then.” Colette glanced at Taylor. “Please call him, let him know we’re coming.”
So for the second time in her life, Colette drove through Heart’s Bend, praying, hoping she was doing the right thing for her son.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JIMMY
White-gold evening light infused the chapel sanctuary as Jimmy took his place at the chapel altar, smoothing his hand down his new blue tie—the one Colette had bought for him and sent over to the house.
Darned if he wasn’t nervous. Like a kid. But he’d take it. Today and every day ’cause it were a good kind of nervous. The sort that meant God still moved in a man’s life. Even at eighty-three.
Beside him, Nick cleared his throat and sniffled. Jimmy glanced back at him. The gruff old doctor had more sentiment in his blood than the women’s junior league.
Their eyes met and Doc gave him a nod, clapping his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “I still expect to see you Friday mornings for coffee.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. I might need me some marital advice.”
The whirlwind week had settled down to this one moment—Jimmy waiting for his bride to finally come down the aisle.
How his world had changed since the day he’d agreed to let a photographer come take pictures of his chapel. His secret granddaughter, no less!
The guests, mostly family and friends, sat in the pews with tangible expectation. All of them were smiling to beat the band.
Emma and Taylor had worked tirelessly to pull off this wedding, but Colette was the force to be reckoned with. She had the energy of a forty-year-old.
Besides that, she had resources at her fingertips most folks only dreamed about.
After a honeymoon to New York, Hawaii, and Normandy, they were going to sit down with Good Morning America and appear on the Tonight Show. Apparently the folks there were big fans of Colette’s.
Then she was going to finish her book and do more shows, and Jimmy didn’t know what all. He only cared that he was going t
o be with her, watching from backstage. Suited him just fine.
Behind the altar, the string quartet began to play, the sentimental notes of “Because” causing Jimmy’s eyes to crest with tears.
“Because you come to me . . .”
His Colette was coming to him.
Taylor entered first, pretty as a picture, and Jimmy felt such love for her. She wore a pretty blue dress that swept across the top of the floor. She nodded at Jimmy, but her eyes were all for Jack.
“. . . a wider world of hope and joy I see . . .”
Then came his Colette, and Jimmy just knew his heart was going to explode.
She was a vision in a simple white gown befitting her stature, leaning on the arm of Ford, her eyes glistening.
Jimmy swallowed the lump forming in his throat that threatened to undo him. He tugged at his shirt collar and tight bow tie.
In the midst of the wedding brouhaha, they had dealt with Drummond, who didn’t take the news well.
But Monday evening Jimmy got a call. “Ardell and I want you and Colette to come to the house. We’d like to talk.”
For the next three nights, they sat together talking, hashing out every emotion from anger to confusion to hurt to joy.
Drummond wrestled with the new knowledge that he was adopted. Jimmy grappled with missing the chance to raise his own son. Colette concluded it was time to finally forgive herself for “ruining everyone’s life.”
But in the end, it boiled down to the words Jack so wisely offered. “The way I see it, the family just got bigger, better, and more interesting.”
Colette arrived at the altar as the strings bowed the final notes of the song.
Jimmy offered her his hand and Reverend Stebbins opened with a prayer.
Then he heard it, right above his head, the whoosh-thump of the chapel’s heart. It started off distant and faint, then became louder, drawing near with each word of prayer.
It rushed through Jimmy with such a force he couldn’t breathe. He raised his eyes to the light beyond the stained glass.
Lord?
Colette squeezed his hand and the whoosh-thump sank deeper and deeper, and little by little began beating in time to his own heart.