The Eves

by Grace Sammon

  They just don’t stop, and that’s one of the reasons I love them. It’s true, I’ve come to love each of them, warts and all, as Jessica would say.

  We’ll see if this llama thing comes off the page. Even if it doesn’t, our fiber business keeps growing, keeping our hands busy with spinning, weaving, knitting, and teaching the students over at Martinsburg. Our newest llama is named Lilly in honor of Deirdre’s aunt, who taught her to knit and weave. We think she’d like that. Our current mule, Oliver, is getting up there in years, so we’ve purchased another mule and named him Tobias. It wasn’t right not to have a Tobias at The Grange. The two mules will be double-teamed for the spring planting. We can’t figure out if Oliver will be helping Tobias or Tobias will be helping Oliver and it doesn’t matter. In any event, Jan has decided that it is time to pull out an African American saying from the ‘70s. She intends to have “Each One Teach One” T-shirts for everyone for our next Juneteenth celebration.

  Two years, so much has happened.

  Jan and Ali are away on a consulting trip at the moment. The orchid project that Sydney, Jan, and Ali started, now incorporated as Orchids for Others®, is being recreated in other communities, yet another Tobias Grange operation that raises money to support high school youth. This new work keeps Jan from finishing the cookbook Jessica urged her to write, but it’s in the works. She and Sydney, along with the students at the college, have a publisher and are working to finalize the recipes. These will be featured at monthly themed dinners up at the B and B. Sonia has submitted recipes, giving up her enchilada secrets. The book, Spoons: Our Mothers’ Favorite Recipes©, will sport Erica’s picture of Jan’s hand reaching for one of the spoons from the Hopi pottery piece on the cover.

  We still have two empty rooms at The Eves. In time, I imagine we’ll fill them. For now, however, Tia doesn’t want her Dad’s room touched.

  I think of Jessica often. I wondered if she was listening to the same piece of music we were when her ankle gave way, when she rolled into the traffic, when she was hit by the truck. It sounds so matter of fact to simply write it that way, but that’s what happened, and that’s what I wonder.

  I found her note for the run about Jesper, the lessons, and the written playlist folded and tucked into her passport as we were preparing for the funeral. I keep them tucked away there. I imagine she was going to work on them while waiting for the plane. She’d be formulating yet another question to wrestle with as she crossed the Atlantic.

  Ryn and Adam didn’t come to the funeral. I sent them their quilts for Summer Solstice. Adam’s wasn’t quite finished, so Margaret Mary and I finished it. We agreed on the colors of red and black and brown and green. For the panel in the back we chose the simple expression “Out Biking.”

  I never heard from Adam, but I got a “thank you” note from Ryn asking if she and Adam could come visit sometime. I imagine they’ll have questions. Maybe they’ll just want to be where she was, and maybe meet Roy. It’s been just over a year since she wrote, but when they have time, we’ll welcome them.

  Sonia keeps in touch with them. She’s invited them to spend Christmas with her and Erica at the Hobart Street house where they grew up. Erica’s roommates will be away, and they can have their rooms back for a few days. Maybe they will remember how they went out on the roof and listened to lions. Maybe they will realize what they gained and what they lost in having Jessica for their mother.

  That first spring after her death, on a Saturday, just as the earth was warming up, Roy, Sonia and Erica, Malcolm and Allison, Sydney, and Gene the tension finally gone between them all—took The Tug out with Jessica’s ashes aboard. Tobias had offered to have them distributed or buried on our land, but we didn’t own her, so we opted for the sea. They positioned The Tug just under our cliffs and anchored. That night Pavarotti and I stood useless guard watching nightfall settle over the ship. I was wearing her gold locket and I wear it still, next to mine. I will pass it to Ryn when the time comes.

  As the sun set, Roy played Taps, and my heart broke just a bit more at the collective missing of her. As the bay went to blackness, we could hear them laughing and talking, and we could hear the occasional strands of music from her playlist carried over the water.

  In the morning, as the sun rose, and the cliffs woke up in splendid color, they set Jessica free to travel.

  It was Mother’s Day.

  They all had to hurry back to take their places at our celebration. The day was hard and empty for all of us, so many losses. But we go on, we begin. We are not yet finished.

  Two years. You let go. You learn. You go on. You reach.

  She would laugh at the irony that she never finished her interview with me and that she was the one who got to “a go on-a vacation.” I don’t. I never got to tell her how much I liked what she had written, that I thought she got our story spot on, that she was more than a daughter to me. For that reason, I finished her book. For that reason, I miss her more than most. I want to believe that people will remember not what she looked like but what she said and did. Sonia is wrong, it does matter.

  These last years were unanticipated. I am not sure what comes next. Leaning heavily on the desk, I push myself up and scoop up the cat. “I don’t know, Gabler. Whatda ya hafta do?”

  It is, at last, a question.

  Elizabeth Jacobi, age 82

  The Eves@TobiasGrange.org

  Calvert County, MD

  coda

  I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,

  To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.

  I thought that you were gone, but now I know you’re with me,

  You are the voice that whispers all I need to hear.

  Excerpted from Wanting Memories

  Dr. Ysaye M. Barnwell

  Listen to it in its entirety by Sweet Honey in the Rock at:

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vW2TpW4gCt8

  — Dr. Ysaye M. Barnwell

  Professor, vocalist, activist, community supporter

  The lessons

  First do no harm (Hippocratic Corpus)

  Go with the flow.

  To thine own self be true.

  There will be occasions to say “please,” “thank you,” and “I’m sorry,” every day – do it.

  Seek always to understand

  Live decisively

  You cannot sit in two chairs or wear two pairs of shoes

  Never say never

  Be patient with yourself and others

  Love one another as I have loved you (Lesson 23 – Luke 22:1-38; John 13)

  Don’t be selfish, share widely of yourself

  Think before you speak, what outcome do you desire from your statements and actions

  Do good work

  Seek to find the reason in all that happens, be responsible for your part in it

  Don’t be bitter, bitterness is of your own making

  Sometimes there are no second chances; but give others a second chance

  Be kinder than you need to be, it takes so much less energy than being mean

  Don’t hide your gifts, use them, challenge, them, hone them– give them wildly away

  Learn something new every day

  A penny saved is a penny earned

  Watch how a (man) treats his mother, it will tell you all you need to know

  Listen to others, even the dull & the ignorant; they too have a story (The Desiderata)

  Write it down, You’ll forget too quickly and so will others

  Pay attention to the little things, the big things will take care of themselves

  Be safe, have fun, this is a journey – not a rehearsal….

  The Playlist

  “On Children,” Sweet Honey in the Rock

  “Gabriel’s Oboe,” from The Mission, Yo-Yo Ma

  “Hello in There,” Better Middler

  “Mother and Child Reunion,” Paul Simon

  “Both Sides N
ow,” Joanie Mitchell

  “Speaking of Happiness,” Gloria Lynne

  “As If We Never Said Goodbye,” Danny Wright

  “At This Point in My Life,” Tracy Chapman

  “Slipping Through My Fingers,” from Mama Mia

  “Everybody Hurts,” R.E.M

  “Amazing Grace,” by anybody

  “Both Sides Now,” Judy Collins

  “Les Misérables Medley,” Danny Wright

  “A Sunday Kind of Love,” Etta James

  “Alucinado,” Tiziano Ferro

  “At Last,” Etta James

  “Grazie, Prego, Scusi,” Adriano Celent

  “Dime,” Willie Colon & Ruben Blades

  “Don’t Go to Strangers,” Etta Jones

  “Take My Love Precious Love,” Nina Simone

  “Come on Home,” Mary Chapin Carpenter

  “Children Found,” from Hotel Rwanda

  “Heroes and Heroines,” Mary Chapin Carpenter

  “Take Me as I Am,” Wyclef Jean

  “Thank You for The Music,” from Mama Mia

  “Wanting Memories,” Sweet Honey in the Rock

  “Travelin’ Thru,” Dolly Parton

  author’s notes

  The Eves is a work of fiction that I imagine could be true. Jessica’s townhouse is a very real place in Washington, DC, and the renovations, much as I would like them to be. Calvert County, Maryland is a place steeped in history, still with working farms. Martinsburg, The Grange, and Martinsburg Community College are fictitious places, but I wish they weren’t. The Eves, especially, is a place that I wish existed. I would gladly take my place among such women.

  The Eves is sandwiched between two literary pieces, one by Kahil Gibran, the other by Dr. Ysaye M. Barnwell. Each is sung a cappella by Sweet Honey in the Rock. Dr. Barnwall was a long-standing member. Stirring and haunting, they are appropriate bookends for the story. They set the stage with music and they carry the main messages and central themes of the book.

  The main pieces of this book came together, as they all do, in parts. First, there was Bette Midler’s cover in her 1972 Divine Miss M album of John Prine’s, “Hello in There.” There was no reason that, at age nineteen, I should have been so impacted by hearing…

  If you’re walking down the street sometime and you should spot some hollow ancient eyes, don’t you pass them by and stare as if you didn’t care. Say, “Hello in there. Hello.”

  I was transformed by the song. Never since have I walked past an older person without saying hello and wondering about their back story. Second, and most important, the account of Jessica’s mother’s death is autobiographical, and very close to the story of my own mother’s passing. From that moment on, this story needed to be written. When you are a writer, it is like childbirth—once the seed has been sown and taken root, you have little option but to birth the story.

  A few months after my mother’s death, while wandering in Albuquerque, New Mexico, the “Land of Enchantment,” I was, indeed, enchanted by a whimsical Native American Indian “Storyteller” sculpture. Originated by the Cochiti, and now copied by members of various tribal nations, these are clay figures of men and women, often with many children on their laps, backs, in their arms, and at their feet. These are the storytellers, the keepers of oral histories, myths, legends, and traditions. I purchased a very sweet and inexpensive figure in the old market, and it’s been on my desk ever since, waiting patiently for me to tell this story.

  The book is filled with double entendre, not because I planned it. What evolved in the writing was that so often there are two sides to every story. The characters give us true lessons by which to live, or not live, our lives. The characters are still learning themselves. Their stories are not finished, even for those who do not make it alive to the end of the book.

  I hope I have captured fairly, and with great respect, the stories of those who will think they recognize themselves here. I hope I have opened a door for conversations that will happen between those we first love and those we love fiercely.

  It is impossible to bring anything to success alone. I’m particularly grateful to Chad at Writing Nights (wrightingnights.org) – who has the skill, wisdom, and vision to bring The Eves to reality. Special thanks to all those who read my drafts, cheered me on, and to Marilyn who demanded I give birth to the Norwegian part of this story. This first-time novelist could not have asked for, or received, better support, criticism, cheer leading, and guidance in the birthing of this novel than my Sarasota Book group and my friend and fellow author Saralyn Richard.

  Special thanks to the prototypes for Elizabeth Jacobi, for letting me be friend and “daughter;” and for the ever-likeable Kim Stephanic, the inspiration for Allison Beck. The very first reading of the book took her breath away and she kept reading as I wrote. To Sharon Barrett, Tonia Essig, and Pier Ormond who shared color and philosophy and let the white girl know when she was “not all that.” To my sisters, Barbara, and Susan, who know more about reconciliation than I do and were patient enough to teach me. To my brothers Bob and Rick, for cheerleading, challenging, and helping in real ways. To Lauren Sammon for her brilliance in artistic design and to Ivica Jandrijević and Elena Brighittini for the cover art.

  There are no words strong enough, or well-crafted enough to capture my love and thanks to my mother for the many gifts she left behind, to my dad for his hanging in long enough for me to dig deeply into this story, or to my children for simply being astounding. I am humbled and blessed to have found my personal Roy Gillis. I like him a considerable amount. He is the other side of my coin, for which I am most grateful.

  This is not hearsay. This is really true. I hope my little storyteller is happy.

  Grace Sammon

  April 2020

  book club

  discussion guide—basic book banter

  Did you like the book? Why, why not?

  What did you learn from the novel?

  Which character do you identify with most? Least? Why?

  Who did you like the most? Least? Why?

  Erica, in many ways, is the turning point for the novel. In what ways do you agree with this statement?

  We don’t get to meet Ryn and Adam, what do you know and feel about them?

  What do you think of the themes of honesty, truth, fact, fiction and lying throughout the book?

  Jessica has kept a huge secret, in fact, she lies. How does this make you feel about her?

  Sonia never lies. What does this make you think about her?

  Sonia says that she believes that in large measure we can write our own stories, change the ending. What evidence do you see of this in the book or in your own life.

  What role do individual’s perceptions play in the storyline? Does it make sense? How do you know the truth of an event?

  Jessica seems to get stories and information from the other characters that they don’t share with each other. Why do you think this is?

  Jessica tries to define what love, falling in love, and being in love means. Is she in love? Do those things mean different things at different points in life?

  Is Jessica religious? Are the others? What role does religion play in the story?

  What do you think of the lessons Jessica chooses to catalogue?

  Jessica states on several occasions that she felt she didn’t deserve something. How does that play out for her?

  If you were to sum up the message of each character what would it be?

  How does the theme of regret play out in the book?

  There is no interview with Elizabeth. What do we really know about her? We don’t get to hear the conversation about ‘reach.’ What is the ‘reach’ of each character?

  Why do Jessica and Elizabeth have the bond they do?

  Why does Erica feel so connected to Jessica?

  Do the characters have a moral compass?

  Does Jessica decide her future, or does she let others shape her
future?

  Do we know Jessica, or do we have other’s impressions of her?

  How important is Jesper?

  What do you think will happen between Jesper and the rest of his ‘family?’

  The last few chapters of the book are unexpected. How does this position the characters for the future? What is the lesson of those chapters?

  Do you have a favorite line or scene from the book?

  What do you think happens in the coming years for the characters?

  The novel follows a musical path—overture, theme, and coda. Does this work for you? Why, why not?

  The core of the book is the bond between mothers and their children, “other mothers,” and the life lessons we share or miss. Discuss this.

  book banter bonus

  Meal Musts:

  Morning book club? Make Ethiopian coffee, fruit and Bisquick coffee cake.

  Dinner? Make Jan’s Key Lime Ginger Curry meal, Roy’s meatballs and peppers, or Sonia’s Argentinean dinner.