Jacob put up his palm. “Please, Nora. Just give us five minutes alone.”
“Of course! We’ll be right back.” Grace was already following him out.
Nora turned to the others who were all eyeing her as though she were an unpleasant sight. Squaring her shoulders, she prepared herself for whatever would come next.
*****
Chapter 17
The Meeting In The Woods
Jacob strode out, lost in thought. Grace had to jog to keep up with him. Confused, she caught his hand and squeezed it.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Grace asked. “Whatever it is, I’m here for you. Does Chief Andrews have some evidence against Lucas? Is the lawyer helping? I can ask my Dad if you think someone else—”
“Grace…” Jacob held up a finger. “Just give me a minute. I need to sort out the thoughts in my head.”
Grace stilled. She’d never seen Jacob act like this before. He was in a strange mood. His eyes were almost panicked, even though his body was held stiff.
“Jacob?” Grace pulled at his hand, forcing him to stop. They stood surrounded by the woods now, with dirt trails stretching out in a criss-cross around them. Behind them, the Giordano house stood like some ancient temple, grim and full of its own legends.
Jacob bowed his head for a second, then looked up at Grace. “I messed up,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“I found the body. I told the police that I had no idea who the dead man was,” Jacob said. “Remember that?”
“Of course, I do.” Grace nodded. “But what’s—”
“That wasn’t true,” Jacob said. “I’d met him earlier that day. I even talked to him.”
“What?!”
Jacob nodded. “That morning, Kaylee didn’t have regular school since it was Thanksgiving, but she had her ballet class. I dropped her off and then I took a shortcut back through the woods. Bobby Black…I think he was following me, though I’m not sure. He stopped me a ways from the house and told me we needed to talk.”
“Bobby Black met you that morning?”
Jacob nodded. “His face looked familiar, the way faces do when you’ve seen them around town all your life, but I didn’t know who he was. He introduced himself and then said that we had unfinished business.”
“Unfinished…what could you possibly have to do with that…criminal?”
“I didn’t…I don’t know,” Jacob said. “The truth is, I was spooked. I asked him what he wanted to talk about but he acted as though he was just as uncomfortable. He wouldn’t tell me. He said something about family history and bloodlines. But then Lucas jogged by and Bobby seemed to lose his nerve altogether. He bolted.”
“Family history?” Grace’s brows knit together. “But wait, why did you lie to the police? You said you didn’t recognize him.”
“I didn’t,” Jacob said. “It was dark when I found the body and I…I don’t know how to explain it to you…but I was in shock. I’d had a few glasses of wine with dinner, remember, so I wasn’t fully steady. All I saw was a body…a stranger. My mind felt like it was swimming in molasses. I promise you, Grace, I was telling the truth — in the sense that I believed it totally. I really thought I’d never seen him before. I just didn’t make the connection between the man who’d stopped me that morning — an incident I’d dismissed as a random crazy dude trying to get money or something from me — and this dead body inside my home.” Jacob swiped his hand over his eyes. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
Grace hesitated, then put a hand on his shoulder. “Of course, I believe you, sweetheart. If you say you didn’t recognize him, then you didn’t. It’s perfectly plausible.”
“By the time I realized that he was the same man who’d stopped me in the woods that morning, I’d already given my testimony to the police,” Jacob said. “I admit it, I got scared. I wanted to tell Chief Andrews but…I just…didn’t. It was a mistake. A huge mistake.”
“So how did Chief Andrews find out?”
“Lucas jogged by and saw me and Bobby that morning. He didn’t want to tell the police, but your mother forced him to. So now… here I am.”
“My mom?” Grace blinked. “Well…I suppose she’s a big believer in telling the truth.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t blame her. It’s just that now, instead of me telling the police voluntarily, which I would have done if I’d just had some time, well…now it just looks like I lied to them.”
“Well, they can’t arrest you based on flimsy evidence like this,” Grace said. “You didn’t lie to them and that’s all that matters. You just had a shock and a mixed-up memory. That’s okay. It doesn’t mean Chief Andrews will paint you as a killer.”
“The thing is…” Jacob sighed. “I messed up in more ways than one. Because I did lie to the Chief. About something else…”
“What?!”
“Remember I told you I was in the kitchen getting water when I heard the scream that night?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah?”
“That was a lie,” he said.
Grace felt like the world had suddenly compressed itself into a tunnel. The woods, the grass, the chirping birds all seemed to vanish, and all she could see was Jacob. Every inch of him. He was dressed in a plaid shirt that she’d seen hundreds of times. Only now she could see each small wrinkle and flaw on it. His blue eyes were clouded over like thunderstorms were imminent and his mouth was curling a bit to the side.
“Look, I need to explain,” he said. “I just can’t seem to find the right words.”
“You’re scaring me, Jacob.”
“I’m scared myself. I’m being investigated by the police!” Jacob said. “I lied in self-preservation, really. I don’t know why I was such an idiot. It’s just…I’ve seen how rumors have impacted my mom’s life and I guess I was trying to protect myself from them. I’m an idiot, I know.”
“Of course, you are. This looks really bad, Jacob. I’m not going to lie,” Grace said. “Where were you that night if it wasn’t the kitchen?”
Jacob took a breath. “After you and Mom and Uncle Finley went off to sleep, I was downstairs alone,” Jacob said. “I locked up the house and was ready to turn in. But then…I got a phone call.”
“Who was it?” Grace felt her heart sink, somehow knowing the answer before Jacob said it.
“Ramona.”
Grace turned away. She didn’t want to hear any more. She squeezed her eyes shut. “You went to her.”
“No! Grace, please! It’s not what you think. Please just listen to me.”
“Why should I? There’s nothing more to say, is there? I knew Ramona was in love with you since the day I met her. You kept defending her—”
“Because you’re wrong about Ramona. She’s just a friend. She has no interest in me. More importantly, I have no interest in her.”
“Oh, please! She was flirting with you all Thanksgiving. I thought I could trust you totally. But you really let me down, Jacob. I feel like such a fool.”
“Sweetheart,” Jacob caught her by the waist, pulling her to him. “It’s not what you think, I promise.”
“Don’t call me that!” Grace clenched her fists. “And don’t touch me, either.”
Jacob dropped his hand and stepped back.
“Finish your explanation,” Grace said. “So Ramona called you over after midnight and, like a good little boy, you went running to her.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. Her heart felt like iron bands were squeezing it tight. Jacob had betrayed her.
“Yeah, I did,” Jacob said. “But, like I said, it’s nothing like you think. Ramona called me over because she’d…discovered something. Something about my family. She wanted to talk to me one on one.”
“That’s rubbish. She wanted to seduce you!”
“No, Grace. Honestly. She really doesn’t see me as anything but a friend,” Jacob pleaded. “More than that, you know me. I’d never be dishonest like that.”
“Ha.” G
race gave a short, bitter laugh. “You already have been. You just admitted you lied, Jacob.”
Jacob looked as though she’d slapped him. His eyes were suddenly cold. “You don’t believe me?”
“Would anyone? Do you believe yourself?”
“Look. Ramona called me. She told me I should come over to her place because she’d found something that related to our family history, and I was the only person she could think of to talk to.”
“Family history?” Grace paused.
“Exactly,” Jacob said. “Obviously, I had to go. My curiosity was piqued.”
“What was it, then?”
“This.” Jacob reached into his coat and pulled out an old diary, leather-bound and quite worn.
Grace stared at him. “She called you over in the middle of the night to give you an old diary?”
Jacob nodded. “But not just any diary,” he said. “This is my great-great-grandma Maria’s diary.”
“How did Ramona get her hands on your great-great grandma’s diary?” Grace was baffled. “And why did she wait so long to give it to you?”
“I don’t think that matters, really,” Jacob said. “What matters is what’s inside the diary.”
“What—”
“You should read it yourself.” Jacob handed it over to Grace. “I don’t know what to do with it. I really don’t.”
“Jacob—”
“Please, Grace?”
“So, you didn’t cheat on me with Ramona?” Grace asked. “I mean, I thought...”
“I know what you thought, and I can see why you thought it,” Jacob said. “I feel like I’m in The Twilight Zone the last few days. I have no idea what’s going to happen next. Things are just so…random. But after talking to Chief Andrews today I realized I’ve been an idiot. I really thought I could somehow handle things all by myself. But I should have told everyone the truth right from the start.”
“Yes.” Grace softened a little. “You should have. Oh, Jacob. You’ve needlessly complicated things.”
“When you read the diary, you’ll understand why my brain was so foggy that I couldn’t even recognize Bobby Black,” Jacob said. “I was in shock. What she wrote…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t ever have imagined it.”
*****
Chapter 18
Maria’s Confession
With shaking hands, Grace opened the diary, expecting to see faded, but beautiful, cursive writing. Instead, she saw the scrawling, untidy handwriting of a woman who hadn’t had much of an education. But the lack of an education didn’t mean the lack of a brain, as her diary proved. Even though she’d lived nearly a hundred years ago, Maria’s voice was clear, and her sharp intelligence shone throughout.
*****
October 3, 1916
We moved into the new house today and the children are excited. I have long pined for a home of my own, but never did I imagine this would be how I got it. Lorenzo’s partner Abel Smith and Abel’s wife Dina are to stay with us. We have split the area well and as Lorenzo and Abel work long into the night, this is a convenient solution. I cannot say that Dina is happy, and neither am I, for like every woman, I would far prefer my own tiny cottage to half a castle.
November 2, 1916
Lorenzo says I must write more often so as to improve my personality. My husband seems to believe that everything I do pales in comparison to the charms of Dina Smith. Surely, she is more patient than me, a better mother and, of course, far more beautiful. I have a good mind to tell him that for all her charms, Dina is a weak willed child with no knowledge of the world.
November 8, 1916
The business is hitting hard times. Yet I believe Lorenzo’s ideas and Abel’s business acumen are a powerful force. They will overcome it all. I do believe that Lorenzo takes far more of the credit than he has any right to. But, of course, people are drawn to him. He is jovial while Abel is quiet, and he is tall and sturdy as an oak while Abel is skinny as a Cypress. I am blessed to have a good husband like Lorenzo. Though I cannot help but wish that he would sometimes humble himself the way Abel does. There is a charm to a man who desires no fame or fortune, but goes about doing his duty to the best of his ability. Lorenzo is like a child if he is thwarted. He grumbles and blames the world when he does not get what he wants.
November 9, 1916
I am a bad wife. I must strike out everything I have said above. A few days ago, Lorenzo had taken my ancestral ring from me. Today, he has returned it. Lorenzo has polished my ancestral ring and presented it to me again as a gift. I am touched. It shines even more beautifully now! The ring is the last remnant of my life in Italy. I never sold it, even in the most desperate of times, and Lorenzo always understood. Even when we were close to starvation, he let me cling to the symbol of a life I once lived, knowing what it meant to me.
November 16, 1916
This last week has been the worst of my life. I do not know what to do, diary. I do not know where to go. Lorenzo has betrayed me. Every ounce of love I had for him is gone. Why have I bound myself in marriage to a creature such as him? Who should I turn to now? I must keep going. I must keep a brave face for the children. I find myself walking about in a fog.
November 16, 1916 - evening
I write this by candlelight as Lorenzo sleeps beside me. I hate him. I wish - but no, I will not say what I wish. My ring is a fake, dear diary. He sold my true ring without asking me even once. I would never have found out, had Dina’s friend not been the daughter of a jeweler. I could not hold my head up when she told me. I did not want to believe it. Yet I know it is true. My own husband stole from me. Just so he could make the business grow. I will not write again. I cannot bear it. But I must say it out loud once. I hate my husband. To the world he is jovial and loving. But behind closed doors he has not a single word of kindness for me. He treats the children as though they are puppets that must move to his wishes. He treats me the same way. He compares me incessantly to Dina and I suspect that he compares himself to Abel all the time. He is jealous of his own partner and I think he would like nothing better than to take everything away from Abel.
December 11, 1916
Betrayed. I have been betrayed. Lorenzo has taken a lover. I knew when I smelled lavender on his clothes that he is no longer true to me. I knew, too, from the little things - the way he hums to himself these days, the funny look in his eyes at times. But truly, I don’t care. In a way, I am happy. For now, even though my body is bound to Lorenzo, my heart can roam free. I will never cross the boundaries of our marriage, for I am still bound by the oath I took, but I will never let my imagination stop roaming either. If reality has no happiness for me, I will find it in my mind. I will find it in secret glances and imagined conversations and the slightest kindnesses. Funny! I wish I could thank Lorenzo for setting my heart free with his betrayals.
December 15, 1916
Oh Diary, there is new joy in my life. I know that I must curb my imagination. And, yet, each time I see him, my heart lifts a little. He is a gentleman always, but I know that Abel cares for me also. I believe in marriage and I will not betray my husband even as he betrays me. But is it so wrong for me to keep Abel’s glances in my heart, to nurse them the way I would a secret flower? I know I am being a bad wife again. I must go to church.
December 25, 1916
This has been the worst Christmas of my life. So it is Dina that Lorenzo has been cavorting with as I suspected! I cannot face my husband anymore. He is far more cruel than I could ever imagine. How could he be so evil? How could he treat Abel Smith this way? Abel, the kindest man I know. Abel, who has been nothing but kind and loyal. I must tell him. I must.
December 27, 1916
I tried speaking to Abel alone, to no avail. I cornered him when he was out on his walk but, before I could say a word, Abel confessed his own heart to me. I cannot tell you - you must already have guessed- that I was floating with joy when he declared what a secret part of me already knew. That his glances had meaning. That his
kindnesses had a reason behind them. Abel told me that he loves me, that he would lay down his life for me if I asked it. He then said, “But I am a coward of a man, Maria. I know my thoughts are sinful. I have tried so hard not to think them, I have tried so hard to ignore you. But it feels like my heart has no control. It keeps on wandering down a path that can never be realized. As long as Lorenzo and Dina are alive, we can never be together. What I am doing is treachery of the worst sort. I beg you to forgive me and never again come near me, for I do not know if I can contain myself if you do.” Then, without giving me a chance to explain, he walked away, never looking back.
January 5, 1917
I have struggled with what to do, I keep playing Abel’s words over in my mind. How cruel this world is. For those with no morals such as Dina and Lorenzo, everything they wish for is theirs. For those who believe in something greater than just themselves, like Abel, life is a misery. For Abel’s sake, I could not bear to live a lie anymore. Even if he never chooses me, I cannot bear to think of him being cheated by his own wife. I confronted Lorenzo today. I told him that either he tells Abel or I do. Lorenzo hit me. But I was not scared. I mean what I say.
January 9, 1917
Lorenzo is dead! Officers had come by to see the body, seemingly unconvinced the death was natural. But there is no way to prove it was poison that killed Lorenzo. I cannot bear to look at Abel anymore. I know what must have happened. Abel killed Lorenzo. This is the only explanation. I know that Lorenzo was to speak to him today about what he and Dina had done. How could Abel have done this? My heart is in shreds. I hated Lorenzo, and yet he was my husband. I grieve for what he was. What we had been. A curse upon Abel.
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