Chapter 26, Coming Together
My memory is hazy following the reveal
of my father: Chester Abbott: Ava’s father. We are half-sisters…
Everyone parted ways almost immediately
after the reveal of this information, with Ava upset, though rightfully. Everything
she thought she knew, changed in an instant. I am sure she has many questions.
Todd took her home, having offered to return to be with me however I needed,
but I politely declined. I need to sort through the plethora of information
gathered over the past week, and the shock of the truth. It amazes me how
Carter’s possible suicide note was put so far back in the closet with the onset
of finding my birth certificate. Stella insisted on staying at a motel on the
outskirts of town for the night to give me privacy. She is ever so thoughtful.
I am sitting under the pergola, cocooned
within the fragrant garden. The sun is up. The bench is hard wood. I lean my
hands on the edge of the seat, leaning forward. The only thing I seem to be
able to focus on is my breath.
In. Out.
I need oxygen. So many facts swim within
my mind. I have lost all hope of lassoing a single one of them to inspect upon
further. The effort is immense.
In. Out.
Pulling my knees under my chin, feet
upon seat, I rock to my right. Laying down in the fetal position, I close my
eyes and take another deep breath.
In…
Out…
Suddenly, there is the image of Jesus
shining gloriously. Arms open, patiently waiting; for me? His light emanates
from him, snuffing out all darkness. Come
to me, for I wait. A whisper to my soul; not heard, but felt.
I run to him. I run toward the loving
arms of Christ. Boy, do I need the strength of those arms right now.
When I reach him, he vanishes…Sort of. I
am basked in light, brighter than before. I feel peace: solid, all-consuming
peace. My heart swells, overcome by love.
‘Where did you go? Why can’t I see you
anymore?’
I
am within.
‘Me? You are within me?’
Yes.
‘But, I wanted to be in your arms; I
wanted to feel your arms around me, feel your strength.’
You
have my love. You have peace, do you not?
‘It’s wavering.’
Then
stop thinking. Be.
‘What do you mean be?’
Become
peace. Become love.
I open my eyes, the moment passed.
The sun vanished, having slipped behind
the dense black of trees. I am only just now aware of Time. Living in the
present is difficult. In this moment the difficulty isn’t in staying in the
present, the difficulty is when being in the present removes you from the world
around you, and reentry into the world is disorienting. Time has moved in this
world, though not the world I was just in.
Invigorated and inspired, I peeled
myself off the hard bench, standing to stretch the stiffness from my muscles.
The cathartic experience releasing the blood flow, as I focus on the oxygen
being pushed through my body, makes me giddy.
~~~
“So…what made you think to speak to
Bruce Jackson?”
I called Todd about twenty minutes ago, to come pick me up and take me to Bruce Jackson’s office a few towns over, yet
to share why. He was in his typical garb: jeans and a button up shirt. And I
was in my usual, as well: jeans and a t-shirt, with hair in a ponytail.
“After the bomb of Ava and I being
half-sisters sunk in – well, as much as it can right now – I went back to the
lavender room. Among all of the legal documents, and such, I came across a
journal. At first, I thought it was my grandmothers, but soon realized it was
penned by Rosemarie.”
“Ok…” Todd said, clearly not sure where
this line of thought was going.
“Bear with me. Rosemarie began her
journal following walking in on her father, Carter, attempting to commit
suicide. Upon finding the note, she rushed around looking for him. She walked
in just as he kicked the chair out from under his feet. She was responsible for
cutting him down, effectively saving his life.”
“Wow…”
“It gets better: she was pregnant with me
when she found her father.”
“I still don’t see how this has anything
to do with Bruce.”
“After reading the events in Rosemarie’s
journal, I remembered what Stella had said of Lillian’s novels: that the
suicide note within one was Carter’s suicide note verbatim. She had joked of
the possibility that many realities of their lives were fictionalized for the
use of her novels. So, I read them for added context.”
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
“So, what do you think you learned?”
“First, due to Carter’s post-traumatic
stress disorder from the war, the pressure of the new book store, and Rosemarie
being pregnant and alone, Carter lost his ability to deal. It was just too much
for him. After Rosemarie walked in on his attempted suicide, Lillian decided to
send him to a center for Vets. This was for the benefit of all. The story of him
going overseas was Carter’s idea, for the purpose of saving Lillian’s
reputation with the new bookstore. Now, from the journal, Rosemarie was pretty
messed up over the whole thing, resulting in Lillian sending her to a hospital
for the remaining term of her pregnancy. I think this was more to ensure that I
would be born healthy, and to keep Rosemarie from doing anything drastic. However,
Rosemarie was enraged over this. After my birth, they kept her in a psych ward
because she began suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. At some point,
Lillian couldn’t afford her care anymore and decided to relocate her back home,
setting her up in the now abandoned cabin. Lillian, during this time, had been
in contact with Chet about the whole thing. He offered to help out, visiting
the cabin to see me and monitor Rosemarie. Eventually, Rosemarie wasn’t happy
being – what she called – a prisoner.
And to a point, I suppose this was true. Rosemarie came up with a plan.
One she thought was brilliant: She would wear a disguise as an effort to get
out into the world.”
“Red hair and purple glasses…”
“Yep! I guess Lillian was surprised,
though felt keeping the peace was better than rocking the already tipping boat.
Apparently this worked in helping to rehab Rosemarie. She got some time to work
out her issues, while staying the nights she worked at the bookstore in the
apartment above.”
“What made Chet bail out?”
“He was pseudo-forced to marry someone
his father approved, and seeing as how no one knew he was Rosemarie’s baby’s
father, they struck a deal. He would help financially through the buying of
antique books to supplement the cost of a child. Rosemarie finally made it back
to being her own person and we ‘moved’ back to town after the ‘intern’ left.”
“Exactly how does all of this fit in
with Bruce Jackson?”
“In Rosemarie’s journal, she believed
she was being harassed and stalked by my uncle, Oliver. She became terrified he
was going to tell all their secrets she had tried so desperately to keep.”
“Didn’t we already determine he was a
loose cannon? And that he was trying to out your mom’s secret?”
“Yes – BUT, what we didn’t know was that
my mom accidentally killed Oliver. At least, she held herself responsible for
his death. Apparently, Grandma came up with the idea to make it look as if his
old life had followed him here.”
“I still don’t understand. Why visit
Bruce Jackson?”
“The picture painted in Lillian’s novels
revealed some interesting notions. Something doesn’t quite add up – call it a
hunch, or a woman’s intuition.”
“What do you think you will find by
going to him?”
“Please bear with me. If what I have
gleaned from the fiction penned by my grandmother, I promise, you won’t be
disappointed. Let’s see if I’m right first…”
~~~
We finally arrived at the office of
Bruce Jackson. Wasting no time, we were at the receptionist’s desk in seconds.
After five minutes of waiting in the waiting room, comprised of four seats and
a typical office desk one might expect to find in a small business, we were
escorted to Bruce’s office.
Upon entering, I saw the man sitting
behind the desk. A smile began to curve at the corner of my mouth – I was
right.
“Hello, Uncle Oliver.”
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