Absence of Grace (39 page)

“If you go, would you put a rose on her grave for me? Thomasina loved roses. Said they brought her comfort on her darkest days. There was a bush at Marymead she was partial to. She told me once it was a Gladys rose.” Sr. Moriarity went over to the small desk, pulled something out, then turned and handed Clen a five-dollar bill.

Clen waived the money away. “I’d be happy to put a rose on Thomasina’s grave for you, but I won’t take money for it.”

“It’s a great kindness you do me. I loved her, and I can see you did, too.”

“I...I need to get going.” Clen stumbled to her feet.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t have better news for you.”

“Thank you for talking to me.” She was done. She couldn’t handle any more. With the barest civility, she nodded at the nun then got out of there.

She’d come back to Marymead looking for Thomasina, expecting the nun to somehow magically fix her after all that had gone wrong in her life—Josh, Saint, Paul, Gerrum. The litany of mistakes and estrangements that shaped her. But now that possibility was yet another dead end.

In the morning, Clen drove back to the college and parked behind the main building. The rose bush was still there, next to the trellis that no longer needed to be in good repair.

Clen snipped off three buds just beginning to open and placed them in the water she’d brought, then she sat back on her heels and listened to the buzz of insects as the dawn coolness began to give way to another hot day.

Nearby, the lilac bush that once shielded her was drooping, probably because it wasn’t getting enough water. Next to it, the patch of earth where Thomasina and Gladiolus planted the yellow tulips that long-ago day was choked with weeds and leaf litter.

It felt like she could close her eyes and Thomasina and Gladiolus would be there, digging and talking about their lives. Clen wiped at her tears, then she pulled the weeds away from the Gladys rose. She cut back some of the canes, and stepped away, sucking the thumb a thorn pierced. She considered it rather shabby treatment since she’d just ensured the bush would be okay for a couple more years.

She brushed away the seed and leaf debris on her jeans, then took the roses to the car, and settled them in a cool spot for the drive to Lawrence.

Lawrence,
Kansas

At the cemetery at the Motherhouse, Clen walked in the direction of the newest-looking stones, relieved she’d managed to arrive at a time when nobody was on the grounds.

Thomasina’s stone, like all the others, was white and plain: Sister Thomasina Moreland. 1917- 1984.
Worry not. As the Father cares for the lilies and the sparrows, He cares for you.

Clen recognized the inscription. They were the words Gladiolus spoke to comfort Thomasina that time in the garden, and in this moment, Clen felt as if Thomasina was passing that assurance on to her. She didn’t try to stem her tears as she laid two of the roses on the ground by the marker.

Sister Gladys’s grave was across from Thomasina’s. Clen placed the last rose there.

Denver,
Colorado

In the early evening, Clen flew from Kansas City to Denver. She called Jason from the airport to let him know she’d arrived.

“Good grief, sis. About time you let us know where you were.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Gerrum Kirsey?”

Her heart began to pound with a thick, heavy beat. “What about Gerrum?”

“Well, first he called the folks looking for you and was surprised to discover Mom wasn’t in the hospital. Ringing any bells, yet?”

“I can explain.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Just not this minute. I’ll tell you about it when I get there. If you’d give me directions?”

Jason’s irritation wasn’t the mood she would have chosen for her first visit with her sister-in-law.

Jason and Nancy had bought a home in a neighborhood where huge trees shaded the uneven slate sidewalks. Yards were small, but they were beautifully landscaped. Clearly, the people who lived here were house and garden-proud.

Clen found a parking spot on the street, and by the time she was lifting her hand to knock on her brother’s door, the door opened.

Jason stood there, hair rumpled, tie askew. “Where the hell have you been, sis?”

“Not exactly the warmest welcome, Jase.”

“We’ve been worried sick about you. Sure, I get that none of us wants to live in each other’s pockets, except Mom, but Christ, we’re family.”

“Can I come in at least?”

He stepped aside and Clen walked past him to hug Nancy, who gave her a sympathetic look. After a nudge from Nancy, Jason went and fetched Clen’s luggage.

“Are you hungry?” Nancy asked. “We’d just finished dinner when you called, but I’d be happy to heat something.”

“Thanks. I ate at the airport. A glass of water would be nice, though.”

She followed Nancy to the kitchen and had taken barely one sip from the water Nancy handed her before Jason was back, looming in the doorway.

“He’s not really mad at you, you know,” Nancy said smiling at her husband. “He was worried, is all.”

“I’m sorry. It never occurred to me to report in. After all, I didn’t do it the year I traveled around, and nobody seemed to mind.”

“Because we weren’t getting calls from strange men trying to find out where you were. So what’s the story,” Jason said, still blocking the doorway.

“Could we at least sit down?” Clen said.

“Try the living room,” Nancy said. “I have lesson plans to finish, so I’ll let you two talk.”

Jason moved to the living room and Clen followed. “I like Nancy.”

“Yeah, I like her, too. And don’t go trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not. What exactly do you want to know?”

“Why don’t you begin by telling me about this Gerrum person.”

“What did he tell you?”

“So we’re playing it that way, are we?” Jason sighed. As a prosecutor, he never surrendered the questioner’s role with good grace. “Said he was a good friend who wanted to make sure you were okay, since you left Wrangell without saying goodbye. If you got in touch, he asked me to tell you he needs to talk to you about Hailey. That it wasn’t what you may have thought. So who is he?”

“The man I’ve been living with.”

Jason sat back, blinking. “What happened?”

“I saw him with Hailey...in his arms.”

“Maybe she fainted?”

“In the front hall of his house, at a time they both knew I’d be tied up at the lodge getting dinner?”

“Okay. Maybe not. But he did say it wasn’t what you thought it was.” Jason frowned. “Didn’t you ask him about it?”

Clen was tired of that particular question. “I knew something was going on between them. The whole town knew, and Gerrum refused to talk about it.”

“They were spending time together, in public? And everybody knew? Not trying to be clandestine?”

“It’s hard to be clandestine in Wrangell. There are people whose major goal in life is to observe who does what with whom and then report it to the rest of us.”

Jason shook his head. “If Gerrum was so hot for Hailey, why was he living with you?”

“You might recall, it’s happened to me before.”

“Yeah. True. But Paul at least tried to sneak around. In my experience most men do, and then they aren’t upset like this Gerrum is when the woman leaves.”

“Are you sure he’s upset?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“You haven’t met him.”

“Well, I did do some checking.”

“You what?”

“I called the place you’ve been staying. Bear Lodge? Talked to a Marian Jeffers. She couldn’t say enough nice things about the man. Mentioned he’d been an attorney in Seattle. That gave me a whole new avenue to explore. Seems he was very well thought of. I even bought his book.”

“And you did this because?”

“Hell, I already told you. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t stalking you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone less likely to be a stalker than Gerrum Kirsey.”

Jason stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Okay. When you saw him with Hailey, was he kissing her?”

Clen looked away from Jason, trying to bring up the image she’d been avoiding for nearly a week. Gerrum, his head bent, his arms around Hailey. And Hailey, her face pressed tight against Gerrum’s shoulder.

How long did she stand watching them? A few seconds, a minute? Had they kissed? She didn’t think so. Which was peculiar. Shouldn’t they have been kissing? And Gerrum’s hand. He’d raised it and let it rest on Hailey’s head. Patting? As one would to soothe. To calm.

Had Clen really seen that or was she making it up? And why was it, the more she examined her memories, the more shrouded in mystery they became? As if she were staring at them through a mist that was growing in density the longer she looked.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

“Don’t you think you would have noticed?”

“I don’t know, Jase. I suppose I should have, but I didn’t. Could we talk about something else? How are you doing?”

“I’m doing just swell. Something you’d know if you ever bothered to be in touch.”

“
Mea culpa
.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I forgive you.”

“Phone lines run both ways.”

“Yeah, yeah. Maybe I’m not so great in the keeping-in-touch department myself.”

“You think?” Clen said, relieved the conversation had shifted from Gerrum.

“Josh would have made sure we all kept in touch.”

“How can you be so sure? He might have run off to the circus for all we know.”

“He wanted to be a pilot,” Jason said.