Between Friends (12 page)
Authors: Debbie Macomber
How are the kids? I’m glad your mother agreed to watch Christopher while you work. It helps that the three oldest can drop by her house on their way home from school, too. What would we do without our mothers?
It must be a hoot to see your mother date. I can’t imagine mine going out with any man other than my dad. Still, it’s a good thing your mom isn’t sitting at home pining after your father. What’s this about her dating a former priest???
I’ll be able to write more often now that I’ve stopped working. I do intend to go back to the firm after the baby’s born. Just part-time at first.
Keep me informed. You’re going to be fine, Lesley.
Write or call me anytime. What are friends for? Love, Jillian, Monty and Jr.
***
a
Pine Ridge Herald
a
July 16, 1978
Judge Leonard Lawton Succumbs to Sudden Heart Attack
As a Lieutenant during the Second World War, he was stationed in the South Pacific and was decorated for bravery. He is survived by his wife, Barbara Lawton, and one daughter, Jillian, (Mrs. Montgomery Gordon). Mrs. Gordon currently resides in New York City.
Judge Lawton was a member of the Bar, St. Catherine’s Catholic Church, The Veterans of Foreign Wars and the Moose Lodge.
The family asks that in lieu of flowers a donation be made to the American Heart Association.
Funeral services will be held at St. Catherine’s Catholic Church on July 19, 1978.
Jillian’s Journal
August 1, 1978
Dearest Dad,
I’m still having trouble believing you’re gone. This was all such a terrible shock to Mom and me. When the phone call came, Monty went pale and then he could barely tell me the news. None of this seems real, or right. I know how much you looked forward to holding your first grandchild, and now you’ll never have that opportunity. How unfair, how wrong. If ever a grandfather deserved to know his grandchild, it was you. You would have made such a wonderful grandpa. I know this because you were a wonderful father.
We had our differences. I think back to those turbulent years during Vietnam and my radical political views while I was in college. So much of the pain and anger I felt at losing Nick was directed at you. You were the “establishment” that had ripped away the person I loved. Blinded by my loss, I lashed out at you and everything you stood for.
It wasn’t until years later that I told you how sorry I was. I cringe now when I remember the awful things I said and wrote to you. What I didn’t say, I shouted with my attitude. You didn’t deserve it.
Daddy, I’m so sorry for hurting you and blaming you for what happened to Nick. I wanted to talk to you about him, but every time I tried, I couldn’t get the words out. They sat like an anchor on my chest and refused to budge. Now I’d give anything to have settled that pain between us, once and for all.
There must have been things you wanted to say to me, too. You never spoke about it but I know you regretted your attitude toward Nick. You wanted to ask my forgiveness for that. I know because of the way you’ve helped Jim and Nick’s father. If there’d been time, you would’ve asked me to take care of Mom. I will. You can count on Monty and me to see to her needs.
I suspect you would’ve wanted me to know how much you loved me. The words aren’t necessary. You said it in a thousand ways. I knew, Dad. I always felt your love.
I’m in Pine Ridge now, settling your affairs. I’ll be with Mom for the next couple of months. I’ve started going through your papers, and it doesn’t surprise me that everything is in immaculate order.
Life won’t be easy for Mom without you. She relied on you for everything. Monty and I understand that and will look after her with the same dedication you did.
Daddy, I’m sorry we can’t move back to Pine Ridge. I know you would’ve preferred that, but with Monty’s job and mine in New York, that just isn’t possible. Lesley has promised to check in with Mom every week and report back to me. If there’s the slightest hint of a problem, I’ll take care of it right away.
I love you, Dad. Rest in glory.
Jillian
***
September 14, 1978
My Dearest Lesley, Susan, Mike, Joe, Lily and Bruce—My Children,
I hope you can forgive me for writing instead of calling each of you personally. For reasons you will understand in a moment, I thought this was the best approach.
Lesley, you’ve probably already guessed what I’m about to tell you. Susan, you too. I’ve talked to you both so often in the last few weeks because I couldn’t hold such happiness inside me.
Mikey, I’m delighted that you’ve moved back to Pine Ridge. I never did understand what was so attractive about life in Las Vegas. It’s a desert there, in more ways than the obvious. As your mother, I welcome you with open arms, even if it took your father’s death to bring you home to Washington.
Mikey, we’ve had many a discussion since your return and not all of them have been pleasant, especially over the issue of my seeing Eric. Son, I know you don’t think I should be dating a younger man. I agree it might seem a bit silly, but if it doesn’t bother Eric and me, then it shouldn’t bother anyone else. Ten years may seem like a lot, but when I’m with Eric I feel young again. I’m happy with him. I realize it troubles you even more that Eric was once a priest. Of all my children, you’re the last person I expected to be judgmental about something like this. Try to keep an open mind.
Joe, although you haven’t said anything negative about Eric, I’ve felt your disapproval—and yours too, Bruce. You boys haven’t been as vocal about your feelings as Mikey, but you’ve made it plain you think I’m an old fool. You could be right, but if that’s the case, I’m a happy old fool. In fact, I’m absolutely giddy with joy.
Of all my children, it’s been my three daughters who have encouraged me to live my life as I see fit. Lesley, Susan and Lily. God love you for your support and encouragement. I’m forever grateful to each one of you for your understanding.
As you know, life with your father wasn’t easy, but he’s gone now and I don’t intend to live the rest of my days grieving for a man who mentally and emotionally abused me. I’ve still got a lot of life left in me and I intend to make the most of it.
The reason for this letter is to tell you that Eric has asked me to be his wife. Yes, children, we want to marry. But there’s something else you need to know. Eric isn’t a former priest. He
is
a priest. This is a shock, I’m sure. Eric never misled me, so please don’t accuse him of lying. I was the one who told you he was a former priest. I stretched the truth a bit. He’s no longer connected with a parish and has been living on his own for the last eighteen months. He’s waiting for dispensation from Rome.
Father Morris knows Eric and isn’t in favor of our relationship. If you decide to talk to someone objective about the situation, I wouldn’t recommend him.
My children, all I’m asking for is your support and your prayers as God guides Eric and me in the direction He wants us to go.
Whatever happens, I pray that all six of you will stand behind my decision.
I love you all.
Mom
***
Birth Announcement
Montgomery and Jillian Gordon
Joyfully announce the birth
of
Leni Jo Gordon
Born
November 20, 1978
7 pounds, 15 oz.
19’’ long
***
December 5, 1978
Dearest Jillian,
Congratulations to you and Monty! Leni Jo is a beautiful baby girl. Those pictures taken at the hospital are normally so dreadful, but I can already see she’s going to be a beautiful, intelligent woman. How proud you must be.
I’m glad you received the baby blanket I knitted for Leni Jo. Every stitch was made with my love for you and your daughter. Don’t you dare be afraid to use it! You’re right, it’s an heirloom piece—and her baptism will be the perfect occasion. (Yes, I know you gave up attending church services years ago, but there’s no better time to return to God, my friend.)
You asked about your mother and my last visit with her. I wish I could tell you she’s doing better than she is, but she still seems lost and confused without your father. She does try, however, and is making progress. I’ve gone out with her several times and showed her how to pump her own gas. Writing checks completely frazzles her, but she’s becoming more accustomed to it. I’ve written up a list of phone numbers and set it in a handy place in case she needs someone or something when I’m not available.
Now on to my news. Yes, it’s true, my mother is dating a priest and it looks as though they’ll marry. Eric, however, has to get some sort of dispensation from Rome and that could take a few months. They’re very much in love and despite the local gossip and the disapproval from my brothers, they intend to spend the rest of their lives together. More power to them both is what I say.
Buck was over to visit the children the other night. He stops by two and three times a week, but I’ve resisted giving him dinner. It would be far too easy to let him slip into the habit of eating here and eventually working his way back into the family without anything ever changing.
The good news is that report cards are out and David got straight As. We celebrated with Spanish rice (his favorite) and homemade tortillas. Then Buck arrived and claimed he’d had nothing but a bowl of cornflakes for dinner. It put a damper on the entire evening. After he left, Lindy had me feeling so guilty that I made him a plate of leftovers and drove over to Tom’s place. That was a mistake. He lured me into his room and it took all my strength to refuse him sex. It would’ve been so easy to fall into bed with him, Jillian, so easy. When I’m not at work, I have no adult companionship and I’m dying of loneliness. Some nights I just crave the feel of his arms around me. We had problems in our marriage, but for the most part the sex was good.
Halfway home, I weakened. I sat and thought about it for several minutes, then decided to go back. I intended to invite him to the house for the night. I didn’t want this to become a regular thing, but I was lonely and my resolve was fragile. Oh, Jillian, what a good lesson that was! When I got to Tom’s, there was another car in the driveway. I parked and peeked in the basement window and sure enough, there was a woman with Buck. In the space of thirty minutes he had another woman in his bed!
This was exactly the prompting I needed to proceed with the divorce. This marriage is over. I’m calling Janis Bright today and filing the last of the paperwork.
I should feel a sense of relief, I suppose, but I don’t. Instead, all I feel is sad. So terribly, terribly sad.
Keep in touch, and don’t worry about your mother. She’s going to be fine, and so will I.
Love,
Lesley
1980
Jillian’s Journal
January 1, 1980
Dear Nick and Dad,
The thought of you two together never fails to bring a smile to my face. It’s been a comfort to me in the last eighteen months to imagine Nick waiting to greet you when you passed into the afterlife. I picture Nick standing there, dressed as I remember him best—in his black leather jacket, looking like Joe Cool. Then you arrive and Nick sees you and extends his hand, offering his friendship as he so often tried before. Then I envision you looking at Nick’s outstretched hand, and instead of exchanging handshakes, you hug. What a creative imagination I have! Still, it gives me a sense of peace to think of the two of you, looking down on me, knowing how much I love you both.
Another decade starts today. I can only speculate on what the 1980s hold for us. Leni Jo is the joy of our lives. She’s a cheerful, happy child and very bright. Oh,Daddy, how I wish you’d had the chance to see her and hold her. Every day she does something that reminds me of you—the little frown when she’s puzzled, the grave expression on her face as she’s concentrating on one of her picture books, the delighted laughter when something amuses her.
Mom’s the perfect grandmother. She’d love to spend more time with Leni Jo, but that’s difficult, so she spoils her. Mom’s biggest competition in the “who can spoil Leni Jo the most” contest is my husband.
Speaking of Monty, I’m worried about him. He’s working far too many hours. Especially since the American embassy hostages were taken in Iran—this is so outrageous! It infuriates me that something like this could happen. To make things even worse, the Iran situation appears to be having a ripple effect throughout the federal government, and as a result Monty is working a great deal of overtime. Some nights he isn’t home until long after Leni Jo’s asleep and I’m in bed. He has most of his meals out. When he is home, he’s wiped out, emotionally and physically. I’ve insisted he go in for a physical right after the first of the year.
I’m back to working three days a week. We have a wonderful nanny for Leni Jo. I love my job, but I’m constantly wondering if I’m doing the right thing in leaving my daughter’s care to someone who’s essentially a stranger. I never expected to feel this emotional tug whenever I walk out the door. Perhaps this guilt is the result of having been raised Catholic, but I tend to think every mother experiences these ambivalent feelings, torn between being a good mother and a good employee. I suppose that eventually it will be easier, particularly once Leni Jo’s at school. I know Monty would prefer that I gave up practicing law for a few years, but I’m afraid I’d go stir-crazy at home. I need the intellectual stimulation, the interaction with other adults. My coworkers assure me it’s better for Leni Jo, too. But these women are mothers themselves and they’ve had to justify leaving their own children.
I don’t know how Lesley does it. Monty and I have one baby, and Leni Jo ran us ragged for the first six months. Neither of us got a full night’s sleep. We were forever checking to make sure she was still asleep(and still breathing. As new parents, we experienced every fear out there!). It took us all those sleepless months to figure out we were the ones waking her up.
Lesley did everything practically by herself—Buck was no help—with four children. Four. I am in awe of my best friend. I don’t know how she managed—correction, manages!
Now that she’s divorced, Lesley is making a new life for herself. She’s attending Puget Sound Community College every morning and working toward a nursing degree. The convalescent center gave her a glowing recommendation and she has a part-time job with a physician in the afternoons. I’d hoped that once she was free of her useless ex-husband she’d start dating again. To my disappointment, she hasn’t. I was afraid Buck might still be in the picture but she assures me he isn’t.
I think Lesley’s frightened of dating again. I wish she’d meet someone who deserves her. She never did write Roy Kloster, even after I encouraged her. My friend should follow her own mother’s example. I don’t mean to imply that she should date or marry an ex-priest, but I do wish she’d put her marriage behind her and search for some real happiness.
From what I understand, Buck is still around. He sees the kids when it’s convenient for him, and that isn’t often. Long before Buck and Lesley were divorced, she came up with ways of paying the bills without relying on him. She baked and sold her own bread, became a remarkable seamstress and offered day care. She’s still got those extra sources of income—except for looking after kids—and it’s a good thing, too, because God knows she’s not getting much support from Buck. He was never inclined to work if he could avoid it.
I hear he’s got a different woman every week, but still comes to Lesley when he’s down and out. She listens, pats his hand and tells him everything’s going to work out, then sends him on his way.
Thankfully, David is far more like Lesley than his father. He’s studious and serious and quiet. Lindy is just the opposite. At twelve she’s already a flirt and announced over Christmas that she intends to marry Greg Brady from The Brady Bunch or the Fonz from Happy Days. Doug is all boy and involved in soccer and softball, and sweet, sweet Christopher is in first grade. He lost his front tooth and lisps when he speaks. (He kept pronouncing Santa as “Thanta”—it was the cutest thing.)
Dad, you’ll be pleased to know Mom’s making new friends. She’s terribly lonely, but she’s met other widows and has joined that social circle. The ladies travel together; they’ve been on several brief trips to places like the Napa Valley and Victoria, British Columbia. Every Wednesday afternoon, they play canasta. One day last fall, Mom looked at your old painting easel and decided to try her hand at it. Dad, you’d be amazed at how talented she is. I remember you enjoyed your art, especially your oil landscapes, but I never dreamed Mom had an artist’s soul, too.
Nick, you’re an uncle. Jim and Angie had a baby boy in October. They named him Ryan Patrick. He’s a chubby one, with a birth weight of over ten pounds. Jim was so pleased and proud he phoned me from the hospital just minutes after Angie delivered. We stay in touch and speak often. I love Jim like a brother.
This is the report of my life for another year.
Remember how much I love you both,
Jillian
***
Park West Medical
284 Central Park West,
Suite 1A
New York City, NY 10024
February 11, 1980
Dear Mr. Gordon, The results of the blood work from your physical examination have been received from our laboratory and everything looks to be in order. Dr. Lyman has granted you a clean bill of health for the upcoming year.
Sincerely,
Joan McMahon, R.N.
***