LIZZY

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LIZZY Page 12

by Jim Wetton


  It had taken her weeks to finally write the news to William. Her tears ruined half of the letter but she finished it the best she could. She reasoned that a telegram would be too curt and she didn’t have the ability to use the new device called the telephone. Those were only in the more affluent homes, not the simple ones as hers, plus it would be years before the use of a telephone would reach the West Coast.

  Hoping for the best and that her son was dealing with his loss, Lizzy had to overcome her own state of grief.

  The more she thought of it, the more she realized that she still had a reason to live. Three reasons to live. William, Mary Elizabeth and Nellie.

  She took in a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. She leaned up straight, held her jaw out and tilted her head upward to the deep blue sky with a look of purpose on her face. It was a welcome feeling. A rejuvenating feeling. The more she did, the more she became determined.

  “I love you, Martin!” she yelled out.

  “I love you, James!” she whispered her second declaration and choked in a need to cry again. She took in another deep breath and straightened up her back again. She tilted her head to the sky and envisioned the two of them looking down at her, both with wide smiles.

  She cleared her throat and continued. “But, as much as you two know that, this old woman needs to pull herself together. This wife and mother of yours needs to do what those families out there are doing.”

  She smiled a bittersweet smile and slowly shook her head with a sigh. She looked once more at all the happiness around her and slowly picked herself up from the bench. She hadn’t noticed before, but everyone around her was staring at her. Mothers were clutching tightly to their little ones. Fathers wore protective scowls on their faces.

  With a moment of hesitation as Lizzy digested the scene around her, she burst into a boisterous laugh. She laughed again at how those around her at no idea what was going on. “They all think I’m looney!”

  She began to walk in a direction which she thought was south. She found another path that looked as though it took her to the west side of the park. There she knew she could hail another coach.

  “Maybe this is the exact sign that I need!” she yelled out at some stranger seated on a blanket.

  She stopped and twirled around and around. Her gaze went up as her arms reached for the sky. “This is New York City; this is Central Park in New York City, right?”

  God, that felt great! Her smile was wide as she puffed up her chest and tilted her head in greeting towards an oncoming woman. She hadn’t seen Lizzy’s scene, too busy talking to her toddler in the stroller. Lizzy smiled at the sight and breathed in deep once more.

  “Oh God, that felt good!” She whispered a little prayer. “Thank you so much, God, for bringing me here!”

  She continued on, one step at a time. Her steps started slow but quickly increased. Her bearings were still foggy, but she knew she’d figure it out eventually. She thought of an old phrase that she remembered her mother used to say:

  “Don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m on my way!”

  She laughed at herself again as she picked up her tempo. She strolled down the path back towards Eighth Avenue. She began to look for a waiting coach in hopes to wave it down.

  She spotted one and whistled loudly, which surprised even her. “You go, girl!”

  Yes, it was time for Lizzy to start living again. For everyone’s sake.

  *  *  *  *

  Lizzy pushed open the door, peeked around its corners and walked in. The house was quiet and still. She put her belongings on the hall tree and proceeded down towards the outer room. She listened for anyone that may be home.

  “Girls?” she called out.

  The rush of footsteps growing louder brought a much-needed smile to Lizzy’s face. The smothering of the hugs almost knocked her over. She took a step back and looked at her two daughters. She suppressed the urge to cry. She swallowed hard and breathed in deep.

  “Oh, Momma!” Mary Elizabeth exclaimed. “We’ve been so worried about you.

  “We were about to send the police out to find where you’d run off to,” Nellie added.

  Lizzy smiled at the loving concern for her welfare. She grabbed both of her girls and guided them to the sofa. She sat in the middle as the two sat on either side.

  “I’ve got to tell you, girls. I had the most delightful day in Central Park. I walked, I ran, I cried, I laughed, I yelled and I think I even danced. In fact, I do believe if I hadn’t left, the police surely would have been called to lock me up.”

  Mary Elizabeth and Nellie gazed at their mother in silence. Neither one knew how to react to their mother’s odd behavior.

  “Ladies . . . ,” she paused again to remember every scene that had taken place in the park. “It was the most liberating feeling that I’ve had in months.” Lizzy reached for their hands and looked at both of them. “Girls, we’re going to be just fine; I just know it!”

  She leaned up from the sofa and moved across the room and sat in a chair to face them. When she knew she had their undivided attention, she continued. “Girls, it’s time that we move on . . . and live again. Your Papa would want it. Your brother would want it. And I found out today that I want it!”

  Lizzy looked at both of her girls and saw tears streaming down their faces.

  “It’s OK to be sad. It’s OK to grieve and to miss them. But, come on girls, they’d both want us to keep living. If not for us, then let’s do it for them, OK?”

  “Oh, Momma, that sounds wonderful. I’ve, I mean, we’ve been so worried about you,” Nellie stammered.

  “I’m fine, reall . . . !” Lizzy cut herself off abruptly. Her eyes widened. She jerked herself around to see a face looking down at her. An unfamiliar face. The face of a young man.

  “Mrs. McKeever, I, uh, I’d like to express my deep condolences for your loss.”

  Lizzy’s mouth gaped open at the sight of the young man extending his hand to her. She turned first to Mary Elizabeth who smirked and jerked her head towards Nellie. Lizzy turned sharply towards her youngest daughter, her left eyebrow raised. Nellie’s face turned beet red. She crunched up her shoulders and scooted back in her seat and searched desperately for the words that were stuck deep within her, words that Nellie hoped would explain why there was a man in her home . . . alone and unchaperoned.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A Name from the Past

  1894

  “Momma, this, uh, this is Mister Henry Monroe. Henry, this is my momma, Mrs. Lizzy McKeever.”

  Lizzy stood and stared. All the pomp and circumstance of the day’s events immediately evaporated from her mind. She instantly moved into the role of a mother. A mother with a male caller in her home. A male caller who was in her home alone with her two daughters.

  “Mr. Monroe, is it common practice for you to be in a home alone with young ladies?” Lizzy paused and slowly looked towards Nellie’s very startled and scarlet face before she added, “Or is it something that I need to speak to my daughters about . . . privately?” She looked at Mary Elizabeth, who shrugged innocently and then over to Nellie, whose own eyes were glued to the floor.

  “I see.” Lizzy added, “Maybe I just need to talk to my youngest daughter, who should know better since she is a lady!”

  “Momma!” Nellie cried out.

  Lizzy moved her dark expression away from her youngest daughter and back to the young visitor still standing in front of her. She raised an eyebrow and jerked her head back to Nellie when she thought she’d heard Nellie begin to utter another response. She narrowed her eyes as she watched Nellie’s silent, but frantic plea as the words Please, Momma . . . don’t formed but nothing was said.

  “Mary Elizabeth, would you excuse us for a bit?” Lizzy’s eyes were still locked on the young man.

  Nellie’s shifting feet only accentuated what her diverted eyes were telling. Lizzy cleared her throat as she waited until she heard Mary Elizabeth’s door shut down the
hall. She turned her back to the couple and looked up at the portrait above the mantel. Great-grandpa Jacob’s eyes bore down on her as if he were telling her to go easy on the youngsters.

  She forced in a deep breath. She looked to the floor, closed her eyes tight and said a quick prayer for strength. And a little patience too, dear Lord. She looked once again at the portrait and thought of her great-grandmother Hannah.

  She’s just a kid, Lizzy, just a kid. Look at her. . . .

  Oh my God!

  Lizzy stopped and turned. Something Mary Elizabeth had said came to her mind. Was this the one Mary Elizabeth had mentioned a few months ago? How serious have they become? What’s behind this Monroe name?

  Lizzy began to feel guilty about her overreaction as she turned around towards Nellie. Her eyes softened as she saw the raw innocence of the moment. She breathed in slowly and could feel the tension fall off her as if her great-grandparents were holding her near to them. Calmer this time, she exhaled. Her shoulders dropped and a slight smile appeared from the corner of her mouth.

  “Monroe, huh?” Lizzy asked. She could feel more of her tension begin to subside, but a frown appeared when a thought came to mind. Odd, though . . . Monroe? Let’s see what he’s all about and where this Monroe thing comes from.

  She turned towards the young man. Every movement she made, she did with purpose. Who is this man? Her eyes started from the top. He was nearly six feet tall. His hair was jet black and perfectly straight. His dimples were noticeable, especially on the right side of his cheek. His eyes were brown, deep and dark. His eye lashes, long and thick, reminded her of William. She thought of how she’d always loved to look at William’s eyes, especially when he smiled.

  Lizzy broke from her thoughts and looked straight at Henry. He’s not smiling right now, Lizzy. He’s probably scared half to death . . . which is just where I want him. No, don’t do that.

  “Uh, yes, ma’am,” the young man replied. “I’m in a long line of Monroes. Papa used to tell me that we date back as far as. . . .” The young man was visibly shaking.

  Lizzy felt a maternal urge to embrace him. No, not just yet. Let’s see where this goes.

  “I, well ma’am, I do believe from what my Papa used to say, that we go back a ways, all the way back to the Revolutionary days. Yes ma’am, I do believe, well, at least that’s what I’ve been told.”

  Lizzy looked at Nellie and noticed her daughter’s silent plea to back off. She quickly turned her attention back to Henry but not before feeling her heart ache at the sight of her youngest, her eyes filling with tears. I need to draw the line here. For Nellie’s sake. It’s her virtue we’re talking about. It’s her honor.

  She looked again at Nellie and nodded slightly. Trust me. Just want the best for you. She looked beyond where Nellie was. To the portrait once again. Or was she doing the opposite? Was she causing a rift in the foundation that may never be repaired? She remembered what she felt like when her father came home to find her and Martin sitting on the front porch. Even though her younger brother, Johnny Russell, had been home, she still felt like she’d committed the worst crime imaginable. The crime of losing her father’s respect. Need to fix this.

  “Will you two join me in the parlor? My feet are killing me and I really need to sit down.”

  Henry remained quiet as he turned towards Nellie for an answer.

  Lizzy moved past them and proceeded to the parlor. “Coming?” Her tone was firm. She heard a door shut down the hall. The thought of Mary Elizabeth listening in brought a knowing smile to Lizzy’s face as she took a seat in her favorite chair.

  Once all were seated, Lizzy breathed in deep and made an attempt to move on.

  “So, Henry, tell me again about your family.”

  Nellie and Henry sat frozen. Both looked at each other for some form of direction. No one spoke. They sat in the overstuffed sofa across from Lizzy. It was much more comfortable than the one in the formal living room. Henry looked around the room. He thought of how to begin to answer Lizzy’s question by assessing the furniture. He looked at the two large oversized chairs and the second fireplace. He wondered if they ever lit both fireplaces at the same time. Maybe if it got real cold. His gaze wandered to the mantel and to a painting of the landscape of Northern Virginia. The furniture and the soft, warm colors of the walls made the parlor a much more relaxed setting compared to the coldness of the formal living room. The scene around him helped him to relax.

  “Oh, come on, kids!” Lizzy exclaimed, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “What just happened was wrong. We won’t deny that. But it just won’t happen again. Your family, Henry, pray tell!” Lizzy asked again.

  Lizzy watched Nellie’s shoulders soften and color return to her cheeks.

  Henry leaned back on the couch and made an attempt to cross his legs and place his arm behind him and over the backside of the couch. When he extended his arm, his hand brushed against Nellie’s shoulder. They both jumped forward. Their hands flung and clasped together in front of them, eyes wide from the sudden and unexpected touch of flesh, especially in front of Lizzy.

  Lizzy burst into a much-needed laugh. “You kids are something else!” She choked on her laugh and once she’d recovered, she continued. “Oh, dear Lordy, I tell you, I’ve seen more ease from the front pew of the Episcopalian Church than I’m seeing right here in my own parlor. Now, come on, will you two just simmer down?”

  Lizzy moved her humorous smile from Nellie and then over to Henry. She rose to pour herself a brandy. She’d realized that she hadn’t offered Henry a glass. Don’t know his age. Nor if he indulges. It can wait. I’ll indulge. She looked again at the two and smiled to herself. These kids are stiff as nails.

  “Mister Monroe, did you know that my maiden name is also Monroe?”

  Henry tilted his head and his eyes widened curiously. “It is? I, uh, I didn’t know that, ma’am.” Henry looked over at Nellie for confirmation. She nodded and smiled.

  “Really? Well, imagine that. Two sets of Monroes right here in this parlor.” He reflected on his own set of circumstances and straightened himself at an edge of the sofa. “Well, I guess that happens from time to time. Monroe, being a common name like Adams or Smith or well, or like Washington.” Henry’s nervousness made Lizzy warm up to him. Oh, dear boy, if you could only read Hannah’s diary. What she’d say to you right now, dear God, if you only knew.

  “Henry?” Lizzy’s announcement startled the young man. “Since it looks like it’s going to snow in hell before we hear about the story of your Monroe family, allow me to tell you about ours.”

  Henry looked relieved. Nellie relaxed even more and scooted back into the depths of the sofa. Lizzy paused and looked at them. Despite the fact they sat precariously close, for some odd reason, she didn’t object.

  “You say your family goes back to the Revolutionary days?” she began. “Well, did you happen to see the portrait of my great-grandfather above the mantel in the formal living room? That’s where our story really begins. With Jacob Monroe. . . .”

  Lizzy caught the sound of a door opening down the hall. Mary Elizabeth’s interested in this story too, I see.

  “You see, my father, Nellie’s grandfather, used to tell us stories about how his great-uncle had gone off to fight in the beginning of the Revolutionary War. My father used to tell us all about how his grandfather had to stay back and tend to a tavern in Boston alongside his own father, Robert Monroe. It seems that Robert Monroe wanted nothing to do with the movement that was absorbing everyone’s attention back then. Most of the people were angry with how the English were treating them. The taxes were unfair. The treatment of the land and the people was atrocious. But, as much as everyone around Robert was dying to fight, he only wanted to be left alone and tend to his tavern. You see, Henry, Robert loved his tavern. He loved his peaceful lifestyle. He wanted nothing more than the roof over his head and the security for his son, my great-grandfather, Jacob. But, it wouldn’t be so.

  “Robert�
�s son, my great-grandfather, Jacob, had to make a choice. He had to decide whether to honor his father’s wishes and stay and tend the tavern alongside him or follow his uncle into the adventure of a lifetime. So, what did this young, impressionable man do? He followed after his uncle, much to Robert’s dismay. He followed him to what he thought would be all the way to Concord.”

  Lizzy paused and took a drink of her brandy. She looked at Nellie and smiled. She looked over at Henry and could see he was staring at the floor. His face, deep in thought, caught Lizzy’s attention. She had always loved the story of Jacob but for some reason, this time it was having an odd effect on their visitor.

  Lizzy looked out the window as she smiled. “I can’t tell you how much we enjoyed our father’s stories. How we, I mean, my brothers and I, tried to imagine what it was like to travel down that road to Concord, to fight that battle and the many battles beyond that. I remember my father telling me how his grandfather used to spy for General Washington.”

  Lizzy laughed when Henry jerked his head up at the sound of the word spy. “Yes, imagine that, my own kin. A spy.”

  Lizzy paused. “As exciting as it sounds, though, he didn’t start out that way. No, something happened to him on that road to Concord. Something he saw changed his life’s direction. Some say he decided on that road to fight for the cause that his uncle was fighting for. Some say that he fell in love with a woman, a spy, who was already working for General Washington. Boy, you’re never going to come back here after hearing all of our family secrets, are you?”

  Lizzy smiled and took another drink. She looked over to Nellie and shrugged questionably. Nellie shrugged back carefully as to not cause attention.

  “Never the less, that trip towards Concord ended or should I say, began on patch of grass in Lexington. As hard as I’ve always tried, I just can’t imagine what I would have done if I came upon what he did. I know it would have changed my life, there’s no doubt. But, no matter how you look at it, for anyone to see what he did, well it’s no wonder that he never wanted to tend to a tavern again. His life was changed and changed forever.”

 

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