by Sylvie Kaye
"I am?” She smiled. Ann had always been such a good friend.
"Yes, because your mother and I were half-sisters. I'm your aunt, too, and I love you.” Jilly's brain blanked until Ann reached over and squeezed her hand, saying, “No one ever wanted me to tell her or you, but heck you're all the family I have left."
"I'm a member of your family?” she asked, stunned, while Ann smothered her in a hug that teetered the wheels of her chair.
"Yes.” Ann smiled, tears brimming her eyes.
"But how?” Jilly asked dumfounded
"My father.” Ann let her go. “Gordon was already married to my mother, with me on the way, when he started dating Adele and got her pregnant. He met Greta while she was vacationing for the summer with relatives in Livingston Parish. She wrote to Adele that she had a surprise when she returned home. Adele had one of her own. Gordon strayed from Greta from nightclub to nightclub, drinking and dancing from parish to parish. Adele fell hard for him. The rest you know. In the end, both women were shocked and both families were devastated.” She sighed.
"So my grandfather is dead. What about my father?"
"I don't know the actual details about him. When he skipped out, if that's what happened, the Pajeauds gave you as much of your grandfather's name as they could. Gordon Lily. Clever, huh?"
"Jilly Gordon,” she repeated, dumbfounded.
"It was another generation. Your grandparents, I guess they're your great-grandparents, worried about social standing and scandal instead of people.” Ann kissed Jilly's cheek. “I'm sorry."
"My mother never knew, but you did?” she asked, taking it all in, slowly.
"Your mother didn't know we were half-sisters. I knew because I overheard. When my father drank, he threw his infidelities in my mother's face. Loudly. He drank a lot after his automobile accident put him in the wheelchair, and he was forced into becoming faithful."
"How awful for you."
"I told you he was awful."
Jilly sat silent for a time, letting all the shocking news sink in. She had a grandmother and another aunt—Ann. But actually, she had the same people in her life she'd always had, ones who she could count on and who loved and cared about her.
Ann clasped Jilly's hands in hers. “They're old and set in their ways. What are you going to do?"
"Nothing.” She shook her head. “What would change?"
"Nothing,” Ann said.
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Chapter Thirty
Jilly sat at the kitchen table amidst the spicy aroma of warmed over Cajun food with all three of her aunts crowded at her elbows. Usually, they took a seat one after another as they went about their business.
No one seemed to have any business tonight.
"How'd school go?” Aunt Vinny asked, concerned.
"Good.” She tried not to mumble with her mouth full. Aunt Gloria detested bad manners.
"You can quit work and hire someone to run errands for us tomorrow,” Aunt Vinny said.
Jilly choked on a lump of chicken jambalaya, but Aunt Gloria pounded on her back to get it down. The woman was strong for a septuagenarian.
"Did someone call that I don't know of to say I got the accounting job and a huge advance?” She looked at their faces, one by one. They all shook their head no.
"No, dear,” Aunt Vinny spoke up. “I found my diamond engagement ring under the bookcase when I vacuumed up that smelly dust.” Her voice choked up. “I should've told you sooner but I feared you'd take off with the carpenter up North."
Jilly shook her head. “I'll never leave you.” She looked into each aunt's face. “Any of you."
Aunt Vinny's eyes filled with tears. “The ring must've been jammed underneath the bookcase for decades until Zack's hammering loosened it.” She smiled, hesitantly. “Isn't it wonderful?"
"Remarkable,” she said. Unbelievable, she thought. To think the ring was here all along. She pushed her plate aside. Looked as if life had turned around. Despite Zack.
"I'm selling the diamond to the highest bidder tomorrow. The size and clarity of the red diamond make it exceptional.” Aunt Vinny sighed as if relieved of a burden. “We've made arrangements with our jeweler's son to come by the house."
"I'm so happy for you.” She reached over and hugged Aunt Vinny. “You enjoy your windfall and don't worry about me."
"Vinnia insists on sharing her nest egg with all of us,” Aunt Gloria said, and then added for no reason Jilly could phantom, “I was never engaged."
"Oh.” Jilly toyed with her water glass. She didn't know what to say. Aunt Gloria never talked about her personal life.
"It wasn't your fault, sister,” Aunt Vinny said.
Jilly stared at them. They were agreeing. She gulped down some water.
"It wasn't acceptable in my time to have a same sex relationship.” Aunt Gloria's tone sounded matter of fact.
Whoa. Jilly coughed on her water while she groped for her napkin. All three aunts waited for her to speak. Aunt Gloria's eyes searched hers as if seeking acceptance.
"It must have been difficult for you to live such a lie.” Jilly felt sad for Aunt Gloria and her loveless life. She patted her hand and her aunt allowed it.
"Those were different times with different values than today. Almost everything was considered scandalous in our circles."
"Yes,” Aunt Adele said. “That's why having a baby out of wedlock was considered a sin. Not only was the mother looked down upon but the baby, also."
"A mother would never want her child to suffer.” Jilly smiled to show her love. She'd had a few days to come to terms with the hard facts of life from a generation gone by. She'd probably need a few more to take in Aunt Vinny and Aunt Gloria's news. But now it was her turn to come clean. “I read the letter. I know you're my grandmother."
Aunt Adele beamed upon hearing herself referred to as grandmother, then turned grim. “But you don't know about Gordon Lily and Ann's mother and me. He played us for fools."
"He was a cad,” Aunt Gloria admonished.
Jilly figured this might be her chance at some answers. For some reason her aunts and her grandmother wanted to clear all accounts tonight, as if each telling her secret made the other's secret less shocking. “What I'd really like to know is more about my father,” Jilly said.
"I didn't know his name.” Everyone shook their heads. “Your mother was younger than we were and didn't confide in us. I'm not even sure if he was a sailor.” Aunt Adele's eyes moistened with tears.
"Papa ran him off, just like he ran off Gordon,” Aunt Gloria spoke up suddenly. “I heard him. I'm sorry, Jilly but that's all I know of your father. A voice in the other room.” She looked at Aunt Adele. “I never said anything about Gordon. It was pointless since he was already married. Getting a divorce was as shameful as having child out of wedlock.” She faced Aunt Vinny. Her voice cracked. “Papa loved us, but he wasn't a saint. He was just a man."
Jilly could see her aunts were visibly shaken. She didn't want anyone getting ill over a past that couldn't be altered. “That's enough confessions for one night. There can't possibly be any secrets left to tell."
Jilly had certainly heard enough to keep her awake well into the night.
They all nodded in unison, as if practiced.
Zack picked up his truck at airport parking where Bob had left it for him, and sped over to Jilly's. It had taken Stan three days before he'd arrived in Houston. Three days of wondering what Jilly must think not hearing from him in almost two weeks. Three days of worrying over Bob telling the Ken and Eric lookalikes he was never coming back. Three days of fruitless phone calls.
Zack pounded up the steps and banged on the door. If the aunts weren't in the parlor, they didn't always hear the doorbell.
"Oh, dear.” Aunt Vinny's eyes rounded, as if she'd never planned on laying her sights on him again. “Hello, Zachary."
"I know it's too early for Jilly to be in but I thought I'd stop by and see how you ladies were doing.” And
if he could wheedle any information out of them about the possible strange goings-on with Eric and Ken.
"You're not in Texas anymore.” Aunt Gloria stopped in her tracks on her way into the foyer. Her silver bird ornaments shivered.
"I'm back for good.” He grinned and held out his arms as if to hug her. With a pivot, she marched back into the parlor.
He hugged Aunt Vinny instead. He had missed the old dames, in spite of themselves. She didn't hug him in return, but squirmed away. So much for a warm welcome.
"Whoever's at the door, invite them—” Aunt Adele froze mid-sentence, mid-step, mid-dinner bell.
"Something smells good. Looks like I'm in time for dinner."
Aunt Adele didn't bother to ring the bell.
During the meal, he established he was in New Orleans for good and the group went mum. “I called Tiny Tykes and left word with someone who promised to give the message to her cousin Meghan to give to Ann to give to Jilly. I guess it got lost in the confusing chain of command.” He looked from face to face.
"It very well could have. People forget messages all the time,” Aunt Vinny said.
After dinner and the dishes, things became quiet. Until Jilly arrived home from her evening classes.
"Zack,” she said with a thunk. She dropped her books.
When he bent to help her pick them up, he inhaled her special scent and his heart started to pound. When his hand touched hers, she snatched it away as if she'd been burnt.
Maybe she thought she had been. Especially if she didn't know why or where he'd gone. He had a growing hunch the very silent aunts hadn't told her of his calls.
"Jilly, can we talk?"
She nodded. “I suppose we should.” Her tone sounded cool, even though she looked hot in her short skirt.
He had his work cut out for him. How was he supposed to warm her up without implicating or alienating the old ladies?
"I've been in Houston."
"So I heard.” She looked disappointed in him.
He didn't like that look. He liked her eyes bright and sunny and in love with him.
If she'd heard of his whereabouts, she more than likely got word from the wannabe construction worker and his short cohort instead of from the elderly ladies. How was he going to straighten this out without ratting them out?
"I called."
"Not here, you didn't.” She strode into the parlor where her aunts sat lined up on the sofa like birds on a wire before a storm.
He didn't have the heart to take a potshot at them or cause Jilly any more hurt.
"There was no answer when I called,” he said to cover for them.
They stared up at him, shocked, but vindicated.
"How can that be?” Jilly frowned. “The poor dears have been home every night while I've been in class.” She gazed with sad blue eyes at the women.
They peered back at her with even sadder eyes. Sheesh. Zack started pitying them and he knew they were dirtier than Bob's pickup truck.
"Maybe they'd already gone to bed. Things were so hectic in Houston I didn't take note of the time. But, I did call."
"Once?” she asked. “You only called once.” Jilly's voice rose. “You left us here to worry, not knowing if you were sick or dying or when or if you'd come back."
"I did hear the phone a few nights. But by the time I got out of bed, with my cane, and all.” Aunt Vinny wobbled her cane.
Zack couldn't believe the old gal was coming to his aid. Of course, saving her own hide in the process. Probably afraid he'd produce hotel phone records, not knowing he wouldn't go so far. But she could've stayed silent and waited him out.
"Yes.” Aunt Adele smiled a chubby smile. “I think I might have heard the phone, too, now that you mention it. But at the time I thought the ringing was part of my dream. You know how that is, don't you, dear? You're—"
"I know how that is,” Aunt Gloria rushed to say. “You're not sure if you're awake or asleep. So you ignore it."
"Yes, yes. That's it.” Aunt Adele nodded.
"Then you did call more than once,” Jilly said.
"Yes, I also left word at the preschool with Meghan's cousin."
"She's lousy about writing things down. I didn't get your message."
Zack suspected as much. “I'm sorry you didn't."
Jilly broke into a smile. Her first in two weeks. She was smiling on the inside, too. Her heart lit right up. Zack hadn't let her down, or lied, or broken his promise. He could be trusted.
Zack Bigatowsky was as big as ever in her eyes.
"Excuse us, please.” Jilly took him by the hand out onto the balcony. Moonlight danced on the flowers in the boxes. A sweet floral aroma drifted on the warm evening air.
"When I didn't hear from you I thought you'd had a change of heart about us,” Jilly admitted. “About you and me."
"I'd have thought the same.” He shrugged, his look unhappy.
She picked a flower and absently plucked the petals. He loves me. He loves me not. He hadn't said it since his return. Soon a small pile of red petals puddled near her feet. She looked up at him.
"He loves me,” Zack mouthed.
She smiled. His lips looked so tempting in the shadowy gleam from the moonlight. She wanted to kiss him, but she had things to say first.
"I had Eric and Ken ask around the job site,” she said. “When I heard you'd left the state for good, I thought you'd deserted us. My aunts and me. I'm sorry, but we come as a package deal.” She studied his eyes to see if he was interested in the deal.
"I love your package.” He bent his head and touched his lips to hers. “I never left for good. There were problems in Houston I had to handle until Stan took over."
"Stan took over.” She looked surprised.
He nodded, smiled, kissed her. His mouth was passionate yet loving. He loved her. She felt it straight through to her heart.
"I love you, Zack,” she whispered, saying the words first.
"I love you, Boo.” He pulled his mouth away. “I'm no longer foreman of Bigatowsky Construction, Bob is. I'll be working for him until I get my tools shipped down from Milwaukee. Then I'm opening my own woodworking shop in New Orleans."
She beamed and wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her tight, and the world slowed down to a livable pace once more.
He kissed her long and breathless before asking, “Wanna get married and make a hundred babies?"
"A dozen's my limit."
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A word about the author...
Sylvie Kaye was born and raised in Pennsylvania in the shadows of the Pocono Mountains and its honeymoon havens, where she breathes the air of romance daily. After getting one short story published in 1994, she went from hooked on reading romances to hooked on writing them. Her years of work experience in varied jobs from manufacturing to retail and banking, to name a few, provide material for her contemporary romances, and road trips to exciting locations in our beautiful country inspire the settings for her stories.
Visit Sylvie at www.sylviekaye.com
Contact Sylvie at [email protected]
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