by Robert Price
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Since talking with Neil Bingham, Jon’s curiosity about his brother-in-law’s personal life only heightened with each subsequent conversation he held. It became increasingly apparent to Jon that although the guests were there to show their respect for Tom Hubbard, none really knew the man.
This was true even with those who claimed to keep in regular contact with Tom, like the Dorseys. They could offer Jon no more insight into Tom’s life than what he already knew. Ted Dorsey first spoke to Jon about Tom’s high school track achievements—apparently Tom won every race he ran his senior year.
Ted bragged, “Tom put our school on the map. A real track star.”
Then there seemed to be a big gap in Ted’s knowledge about Tom between high school and the present. But regarding the present, Ted knew for sure that Tom lived in Arlington, Virginia, and he was pretty sure, according to Shelly (she’d spoken with him more than he), that Tom had taken on a roommate to help pay the bills. But other than a roommate, Ted didn’t know anything about Tom’s friendships, outside of Newbury, or his serious relationships.
“He’d always been quiet about that sort of thing. You should ask Shelly, she’d be the one who’d know,” Ted said.
But when Shelly joined their conversation her answers were just as brief, not to mention strangely curt and guarded. “Tom’s a war hero and a very honest man. We are so proud to have known him,” was about all she said.
Jon also talked to Billy and Jeannine Quinn, Tom’s cousin and his wife, and much to his surprise, they knew less than anyone. There was the same basic information—high school track, the occasional family get-together, and then a confession of, “Really, come to think of it, we haven’t seen him in years. But we tried to remember him during the holidays, sending cards and all that.”
Eventually Jon came to the only conclusion he could deduce from the available information: Tom had deliberately kept them all on the fringes of his life, never saying very much about anything to anyone. Without more to go on, he started to think of Tom’s life as cold and lonely. Perhaps Tom secretly suffered from depression or bipolar disorder, some chemical mishap in the brain, like his mother, and like Jon’s own father.
Jon had just about given up trying to learn more about his brother-in-law’s life when Ezekiel approached.
“Why so gloomy?” Ezekiel asked. “You look as though someone’s just died.”
The joke seemed terribly out of place, but there was warmth in Ezekiel’s voice that made Jon smile. Still, not expecting to receive an informative response, he casually, almost absent-mindedly, asked Ezekiel how he knew Tom. And much to Jon’s surprise Ezekiel responded, “I loved the man more than a brother. We were very, very close.”
Jon was at a loss for words. He stepped back and gazed up at Ezekiel, who displyed admiration if not pure love for Tom—the man nobody else seemed to know. And with that, Jon understood that his brother-in-law had not only had companionship but possibly a deep and beautiful relationship.
“Tell me,” Jon asked Ezekiel, “tell me about Tom,” to which Ezekiel smiled a huge effusive smile and pointed to an open couch so they could both sit down.
Just then Mrs. Hubbard leapt out of her chair yelling, “God bless! God bless!” The little blonde boy she was making a grab for started howling, and the curly haired woman who Jon guessed was the child’s mother, dove in to save her son. Thinking his mother-in-law had finally lost it, just like she had at their wedding, Jon ran for Elizabeth while Ezekiel grabbed the boy even before his mother could reach him.