Unraveling the Pieces

by Terri DuLong

  “Wow, she does sound like an amazing person.”

  “She is. I’m very fortunate to have her as my sister. So the plan would be for you to live there and get some type of work until your pregnancy prevents your working. Actually, Lillian has said she could use you in her office. You could do filing, answer the phone, that kind of thing, and you could take classes in the evening for secretarial courses.”

  I felt the tears stinging my eyes. Such generosity from strangers? “I can’t believe they’d be willing to help me like that. That’s so kind of them. I definitely accept. Is there anything I can do to pay them back? I’ll pay them rent, and I can cook.”

  Joyce shook her head and put a hand in the air. “I don’t think that will be necessary. They will not accept rent from you, but I know they’d be happy if you just pitch in a little around the house. The main thing is they want you to take those classes and complete the secretarial program. They both feel very strongly about education for women.”

  “Of course. Absolutely. I’ll do that.”

  “Okay. Let’s just go over something one more time. I want you to be positive you want to go there. Sebine and Lillian are partners.”

  When I gave Joyce a blank stare, she said, “More to the point, they’re lesbians.”

  “Okay,” I said, unsure what else to say. I really had no experience with homosexuals.

  “Does this bother you?” she asked.

  I thought about it a few moments before answering and shook my head. “No. Although I’ve never known any lesbians, I don’t have a problem with it. Isn’t it supposed to be about who we are inside?”

  Joyce smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine there.”

  “When will I go? How will I get there?” All of a sudden I had a million questions.

  “I’m thinking you’d probably like to leave as soon as possible so you don’t bump into Peter again?”

  I nodded.

  “Tomorrow’s Wednesday, and there’s a bus to Jacksonville at two tomorrow afternoon. Would that be too soon for you to go?”

  “No. All I have to do is explain to Cynthia what I’m doing and pack my bag.”

  “That’s another thing we need to discuss. Cynthia knows you’re pregnant?”

  “Yes, but we had a discussion about her not ever telling Peter, and I trust her. She’s leaving here with Earle at the end of the month anyway. They’re heading north to go to Woodstock in August.”

  “Okay. He might question the other servers and workers here as to your whereabouts, but probably not. If so, they don’t know a thing and of course, if he ever approached me, I would simply say you gave notice and left. I don’t know where you went.”

  I nodded. “Yes. That will work. So there’s no chance he can find me.”

  Joyce stood up and came around the desk to give me a hug. “I’ll drive you to the bus station in town tomorrow. And Sebine will meet you at the station in Jacksonville. You’re going to do just fine. I have no doubt about that.”

  * * *

  Amid hugs and tears on my part, I boarded the bus in Amelia Island and headed south to Jacksonville, knowing that in less than an hour my entire life was about to change.

  I sat down and stared out the window, thinking of my good-bye with Cynthia that morning. Although she’d been against my plan when I had first told her, she relented and agreed it was for the best. She also agreed that I was very fortunate to have the assistance I’d be getting from Sebine and Lillian. Cynthia didn’t question their relationship, and I didn’t tell her. I truly had no problem with living with two lesbians, but I also knew homosexuals were not accepted by many people.

  Cynthia had promised to keep in touch with phone calls and letters. She even assured me that she and Earle would stop for a short visit before leaving for Woodstock in August.

  I let out a sigh as I watched the landscape of palm trees out the window. By August I would be four months pregnant. And shortly after the New Year bringing in 1970, I would be a mother. Peter Maxwell would never know that he was a father. I felt tears stinging my eyes again.

  I hadn’t been in touch with my mother, but I planned to write her once I got settled in and give her my new address. My plan was to tell her I had saved enough money and was now living in Jacksonville to attend secretarial school.

  I dozed off for about twenty minutes and woke to see the Jacksonville sign along A1A. I stretched and yawned as I looked out the window at a commercial area with shops, banks, and restaurants. This seemed to be a larger and busier area than Amelia Island.

  A few minutes later we pulled into the bus station and I gathered up my two bags to join the other passengers leaving the bus.

  I stepped outside to bright sunshine and an ocean breeze. Joyce had given me a description of Sebine; it appeared that the woman walking toward me might be her. She was tall and slim with long, straight, brunette hair parted in the middle. Wearing bell-bottom jeans and a white T-shirt, she smiled, and said, “Are you Rhonda Bradley?”

  When I nodded, she said, “I’m Sebine LeBlanc. Welcome to Jacksonville.” Then she pulled me into an embrace.

  “Thank you,” I said and I knew in that split second that I liked her. She had a friendly glow about her, and although I had been concerned about feeling awkward meeting a stranger, I knew my anxiety had been unfounded.

  “The car is right over here,” she said, pointing to the parking lot and reaching for one of my bags. “Did you have a good trip down here?”

  “Yes, I did. It didn’t even take an hour.”

  “Good. We live about seven miles from here, in the Riverside area of the city.”

  I followed her to the car and we got in, as she said, “Lillian has appointments until five, so supper will be around six, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Oh, yes, fine. I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to stay with you. I appreciate it so much.”

  She reached over and patted my hand before starting up the car. “It’s our pleasure. When Joyce told me your story, both Lillian and I wanted to help you. I’m just sorry you have to go through such a difficult time.”

  Sebine drove onto A1A and I nodded. “I still can’t believe I’m in this situation.” I felt comfortable in her company and went on to say, “The one time we didn’t use protection . . . and I find myself pregnant.”

  “All it takes is once. But your life is far from over. It won’t be easy for a while, but you’ll get through it and be all the stronger.”

  She sounded so positive it was hard to disagree with her.

  A little while later Sebine had cut off A1A and we were driving through a beautiful, older residential area. The houses and landscaping were well maintained. There were a lot of huge oak trees providing shade and a cozy feel to the neighborhood. Both the street and sidewalks were cobblestone. I saw a man walking his dog on a leash and a young mother pushing a toddler in a stroller. We drove to the end of a cul-de-sac and Sebine pulled into a driveway.

  A gray brick two-story home with black shutters sat back from the street with two brick steps and a brick walkway leading to the front porch. Along the walkway were beautiful green bushes. In front of us to the right of the house was a smaller detached building, and I saw a sign hanging from the stained glass door: “Sabine LeBlanc ~ Artist.”

  “Oh, my goodness,” I exclaimed. “This is just beautiful.”

  Sebine rested her hands on the steering wheel and leaned forward, staring at the house and studio. “Thank you. Yes, we love it here. Actually, the house used to belong to Lillian’s grandparents. Her grandfather was the doctor in town for many years. When he and her grandmother passed away, they left the house to Lillian, and she also inherited his medical practice.”

  “How nice to keep it in the family,” I said, wondering if when the time came someday I’d have anything of value to leave to my child.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go inside so you can settle in.”

  As we walked onto the porch, I heard barking from inside
the house.

  “You have dogs?” I asked.

  She paused before putting her key in the lock. “Oh, gosh, yes. Joyce didn’t tell you?”

  “No. But I love dogs. So it’s not a problem.”

  Sebine blew out a breath of air. “Oh, good. Because Sonny and Cher are our babies.”

  I laughed at the names and followed her into a beautiful foyer as a black lab and a golden retriever came running from the back of the house.

  Tails and butts were frantically moving from side to side, but Sebine held up her palm and said, “Okay, kids. Sit and behave. I’d like you to meet our house guest, Rhonda.”

  Both dogs automatically extended a paw for me to shake.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” I said, taking each paw and smiling. “My goodness, you’re better behaved than a lot of children.”

  “Thank you,” Sebine said. “Leave your bags here and let me show you around the downstairs.”

  I nodded and followed her into the room on the right, a cozy and beautifully furnished family room. Two cushy leather loveseats were facing each other in front of a fieldstone fireplace. Two club chairs in a chintz fabric of bright orange, tan, and yellow were placed in the corners of the room, with an entire wall behind the chairs covered with bookshelves from ceiling to floor. A sliding ladder was attached at one end. Cherrywood tables and ginger jar lamps completed the décor. Antique casement windows along the front and side of the house brightened the entire room with sunlight.

  “This is so beautiful,” I said. “Such a cozy room.”

  “It is. We spend the majority of our time here. Lillian’s grandfather had his practice here at the house, and this was the waiting room. When he retired, they remodeled the downstairs so the family room and the dining room across the hall were updated at that time.”

  I followed her to the back of the house, where a large eat-in kitchen overlooked a brick patio area and beautiful garden.

  “And over here,” she said, opening a door off the kitchen that led into a small hallway, “is your bedroom and bath area.”

  She opened another door and we stepped into a large room that overlooked the back of the house and garden.

  I gasped as I looked around. “This is just beautiful.” My eyes took in the double bed with a puffy floral comforter and matching pillows. The drapes were a pale yellow, and a wingback chair was in the corner with a floor lamp behind it. French doors looked out to the patio, bringing more light into the room. I noticed that the small television on the tall bureau was the first I’d seen in the house.

  “I hope you’ll like it,” Sebine said. She opened a door and pointed. “And this is your bathroom.”

  I could hardly believe I’d be staying here in this room. It was the nicest bedroom I’d ever had.

  “Oh, my gosh,” I gushed. “I will love it here. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re very welcome. Oh, and you probably noticed we don’t have a television in the family room. Lillian and I normally listen to the radio and read or do needlework or knitting in the evening. But you have a small television here to use. However, we don’t want you to feel you must seclude yourself in the evening. We’d love for you to join us in the family room.”

  “Thank you,” I said and once again, I felt tears in my eyes.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let me show you the dining room and the upstairs, and then you might want to have a rest before Lillian gets home and we have supper.”

  I followed Sebine and realized how fortunate I was to be given this chance for both myself and my child.

  Chapter 15

  I woke and knew right away that I’d dreamed again of Emmalyn the night before. I pulled on the cobwebs of my memory, trying to recall what it was about and then remembered that Emmalyn had been standing by the French doors in my bedroom. She was slowly shaking her head from side to side.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “You have to pay attention,” she said. “Pay attention to the clues.”

  “What clues?”

  “The clues that will give you the answers,” she said.

  And that was it. I sat up in bed and said, “What the hell!” Did these dreams have any meaning? And if they did, what were they about? It made no sense to even dream of a person that I had never met. And what she said in the dreams only confused me.

  I looked at the clock and saw it was just after seven. I was scheduled to meet with Elaine Talbot at one o’clock to pick up the items for the shelter, so I had the entire morning to myself. I decided that a long walk on the beach with Lotte after breakfast might be what I needed.

  * * *

  When Lotte and I arrived at Andy Romano Park, I was happy to see the beach was mostly empty. There were a few walkers and a few people were already soaking up the rays in beach chairs.

  We headed to the shore, and I took a deep breath of the salt air as we began walking. I let my mind wander and found myself thinking of my mother. We had always had a good relationship, but the older I got, the more I felt she had kept a part of her life secret from me. I knew that she’d left Pennsylvania at age nineteen with her best friend, Cynthia, to work at a hotel resort on Amelia Island. She had told me that she’d rented a room from a woman in Jacksonville, worked at a doctor’s office while she attended secretarial classes in the evening, and it was during this time that she met my father, Jim Garfield. She never volunteered any information about him except that they had married shortly after meeting, she became pregnant and he was sent to Vietnam, where he was killed. When I would question her about aunts, uncles, or cousins on my father’s side, she claimed that he had no family. My mother remained in Jacksonville working and raising me until I was almost three years old. Then her mother had become ill in Pennsylvania and she’d returned home to take care of my grandmother. She had secured a good secretarial position at the university and passed away at age sixty-three, two years before she was due to retire. End of story.

  Looking at my mother’s life in retrospect caused me to feel sad. She was a good mother, raised me well, worked hard—but had she ever been truly happy? As far as I knew, she had never been deeply, passionately in love. Jim Garfield might have been my father, but I tended to doubt that any great love had existed between them.

  I gazed toward the horizon and realized that when it came to love, I wasn’t very different from my mother. Could any of my romantic relationships possibly have progressed to something more meaningful? I didn’t know—because I did know in my heart that I had never given any of them a chance.

  * * *

  Lotte and I returned home after our walk. I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch before leaving to meet with Elaine Talbot.

  “Now you be a good girl, Lotte,” I told her as I headed to the door. “I shouldn’t be gone too long.”

  I easily found the condo building in Daytona Beach Shores and pulled into the parking lot. The front door had an intercom pad and I pressed the button marked “Talbot.”

  “Yes?” I heard an older woman say.

  “Yes, hello. I’m here to pick up your items for the dog shelter.”

  “Wonderful,” I heard her reply at the same time the door buzzed. “Come on up.”

  I walked into the lobby and headed to the elevator, where I pressed the button for the seventh floor. I noted that it was the top floor, so maybe Louise hadn’t been kidding about it being the penthouse.

  When I exited the elevator, I saw there was only one door on this floor. I knocked.

  I heard a chorus of barking before the door was opened by a tall, slim woman. Her white hair was styled in a becoming French twist and she wore beige linen slacks with a pale yellow top that set off her mahogany eyes. I guessed her age to be early seventies. I saw the look of surprise on her face when she opened the door and saw me. When she remained silent, I wondered if perhaps I had the wrong person.

  “Are you Elaine Talbot?” I questioned.

  She blinked her eyes and nodded, seeming to recover
her composure.

  “Yes. Yes, I am. And you are?”

  “I’m with the animal shelter. I had called about coming to pick up the items that you’re donating.” I began to wonder if maybe she had episodes of forgetfulness.

  “And your name?” she asked.

  A sense of uneasiness came over me, but I replied, “Petra. Petra Garfield.”

  I didn’t miss the raised eyebrows or the deep swallow she took before saying, “That’s a lovely name. Petra. Now, children,” she said, shooing the dogs away from the door, “quiet down and show your manners.” She extended her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. Please come in.”

  I stepped into a large foyer, and the first thing I noticed was the paintings that covered both walls. Then my eyes were drawn straight back to a wall of glass doors behind a balcony that showed the sky and the ocean below.

  “Thank you,” I said, following her into a large open space I assumed was the family room. “You have a gorgeous place here, and what a view!”

  “Yes, I do enjoy watching the ocean and the sky. Sometimes it can change from hour to hour.”

  I felt her staring at me as I continued to gaze outside.

  “Please forgive me,” she said. “Have a seat.” She gestured to the sofa.

  I looked up to see a black woman walk into the room holding a tray, which she placed on the coffee table in front of me.

  “Oh, Cordelia, thank you,” Elaine said and began to pour tea into two china cups. “I do hope you enjoy tea.”

  “Yes. Very much,” I told her, but not before I saw both women exchange a glance. I was beginning to feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland and wondered if I’d fallen down the rabbit hole.

  Elaine passed me a cup. The three small dogs sat at attention watching her every move. I noticed there was also a plate of cookies on the tray, and if these dogs were anything like Lotte, I knew they were hoping for a few crumbs.

  “Your dogs are so cute,” I said. I was pretty sure one of them was a King Charles spaniel, one had a lot of schnauzer, and the third one appeared to have a lot of terrier in his heritage.