Chapter Twenty-Four
A re you ready for this?” Anders asked as he parked outside my grandma’s house. I hadn’t been here since the funeral. We parked near the spot where Bill made me walk hom. Pain wound through my wrists where he had tied me.
It had only been a few days since I Bill kidnapped me and Anders had been hovering like a mother hen, not that I’m complaining.
I think I needed him around as much as he needed the same.
I decided today that I’d had enough sitting around and was ready to find out the last piece of information my grandmother had to share with me.
“Honestly, no, but it has to be done,” I said before opening the car door to get out. Anders walk around the car and grabbed my hand by the time I closed the door.
“We can do it another time,” he said as he squeezed my hand. “Either way, whatever way, and whenever, I’m here for you.”
“That’s the whole reason I can do this.” I squeezed his hand in return and offered him a small smile before we started up the path to the front door.
To my great disappointment, I had to let go of my anchor and fish around my purse for the key.
When I turned the key, I discovered the door wasn’t locked to begin with.
“That’s odd,” Anders said as I pushed the door open. He motioned for me to stay behind him as we entered the house. I was more than happy to stick behind him as we made our way inside. After everything I’d been through, I knew I could count on him to protect me.
The lights were off throughout the house and a faint musty smell lingered in the air.
The curtains were drawn, but Anders made no move to turn on the lights.
Just enough light filtered through the cracks in the curtains that we could see around the room.
Dust danced in the rays. Despite the unlocked door, it was clear no one had been here in some time.
“Stay here,” he said when we entered one of the front rooms of the house.
He motioned to the fireplace in the room, more specifically the poker by the fireplace.
“I’m going to check out the rest of the house.
Use that if someone comes in.” He gave me a light kiss before slinking out of the door and closing it quietly.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to his kisses.
The quiet of the house settled over me like a blanket and I began poking around the room.
Nothing had been moved since my grandma died.
That much was clear. It was like the house had been closed up after the funeral and forgotten.
That made me incredibly sad to think about.
I should have come. I shouldn’t have been afraid.
I should have been the one to go through all her things and pack them up as needed. I should have done so many things.
A picture of my grandmother and grandfather adorned the mantel and stood out prominently in the dusty room.
I had never met the latter, but heard plenty of stories about their epic love.
They were young, perhaps my age. Their expressions were serious, but something in my grandma’s eye showed mischief.
A sound behind me startled me and I gripped the poker in my hand tightly. I was glad that I didn’t hesitate to pick it up when Anders pointed it out. A door to the side of the room creaked open.
“Anders?” I called out, hoping it was him. I had enough trouble for a lifetime. I inched towards the door that led to the foyer, just in case it was something I needed to worry about.
“Grace?” a voice asked from the dark of the newly opened doorway.
“Mother?” I said in disbelief.
“Oh, Grace,” she said as she came fully into the room. Her hair, usually immaculate, drooped flat against her head and there were dark purple bags under her eyes. “It’s really you. I’m so glad to see you!”
She rushed to me and threw herself at me. I stood there, too stunned to move, poker in hand, while she wrapped her arms around me.
“I was so worried about you,” she cried.
Since when? I thought unkindly, but not incorrectly.
I didn’t trust it. This suddenly caring and worried mother. I hadn’t changed my number, and she knew where I lived. If she had been worried about me, why didn’t she call?
Another part of me remembered George there that night and his threats against my mother. He seemed so willing to do to her what they were doing to me. She didn’t have someone in her corner like I did. Maybe she hid here, unsure if it was safe to come out.
“What are you doing here?” I finally asked, chasing my thoughts through a bog and sinking ever deeper with each step.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” she said through her tears.
A small, mean part of me thought it was justice for when I had nowhere to go and she refused to help me.
A more understanding part of me realized that she ran to her mom’s like a scared child.
How could I be angry if that was the truth?
“When they wrongly arrested George, I had nothing left. I didn’t have any way to pay the mortgage and lost the house. ”
Something about that sentence didn’t add up, but I was still too stunned to put it together right away.
That little girl that wanted my mother’s love and attention, wanted to reach up and hug her, screamed for her affection and wanted to soothe whatever distressed her, but it had been so many years since we had hugged each other that I wasn’t sure how to do it anymore.
“Wait,” I said, my brain finally catching up to her words. “It’s only been a few days since he was arrested. You shouldn’t have even missed one mortgage payment.”
She pulled away from me at that, her eyes suspiciously dry.
“Oh, well, we will lose the house, is what I meant.” She tried to backtrack. She did that all the time. If someone didn’t believe her first story, she changed it until they did and claimed to have misspoken. I’d seen her do it enough to know what was happening.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I said slowly.
“Well, we will have to hire a good lawyer and then there’s bail and George isn’t a deacon anymore.” My mother’s hands fluttered about while she explained, as if she could wipe away her previous story and my suspicions all at once.
“He needs a lawyer and bail and isn’t a deacon because he kidnapped me.” My voice came out wooden. I couldn’t believe this.
“Oh, you’re blowing this out of proportion. We didn’t need to get the cops involved.” She brushed the air aside like she wanted to brush me aside.
Some things never changed.
“I was tied to a stripper pole and beaten by his hired thugs, my husband, and my husband’s whore while he watched and demanded that I call my lawyer so he could get all my money.
” My words came out firmer and more passionate the more I spoke of it.
“I had to have a plastic surgeon reconstruct the skin around my wrists.” I thrust my wrists, still wrapped in bandages, into her face.
“I’m sure it’s all a big misunderstanding. We just needed you to help us out and you wouldn’t.” She had the sense to back away from me. My rage must have been showing on my face.
“Like you didn’t help me when I left Bill?” I fought with myself not to raise the poker in my hand as my whole body tensed, ready to defend myself against the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who, apparently, helped scheme to kidnap and rob me.
“You should never have left Bill,” my mother insisted. Reprimand, judgement, and satisfying panic laced her voice.
“Bill abused me. Bill tied me to a pole and beat me. Bill spent a decade making sure I knew I was useless, worthless, and felt every inch the pain that brought. The bastard wanted me broken, and he’d nearly fucking succeeded.” My voice had raised to a fever pitch.
“Grace! Language!” my mother chided.
“Fuck you, how’s that for language?” I shouted. I would be surprised if the distant neighbors couldn’t hear me.
I turned around and opened the door to the foyer. Anders stood just outside it about ready to walk in.
“I didn’t find anyone,” he said as he stepped through the door.
“I did, and she was just leaving.” I spat the words out.
I held the door open for my mother and pointed in the direction I expected her to go.
“You can’t kick me out of here,” she sputtered. “This was my mother’s house.”
“Leave before I decide to use this poker to make you leave.” Anger infused my voice, and I raised the poker in her direction again for emphasis. I wasn’t sure if I could actually hurt her, but I certainly needed her to believe I could.
Her eyes widened in surprise at my actions, and she darted to the door as fast as she could. “I always knew you were crazy,” I thought I heard her say on the way out. I let it roll off me. I think I was the only one that wasn’t crazy in this whole situation. Well, me and Anders.
Anders came up to me and put his arm around my shoulder. I leaned against him, drawing strength from him, as I watched my mother leave.
I turned to him and wrapped my arms tight around him. He didn’t hesitate to hug me back. His arms were warm and comforting as he embraced me.
“I love you,” I said, unable to hold it back for a minute longer. We didn’t even need the cookies.
He bent down and took my lips in a sweet, warm, oh so comforting kiss, and I melted against him, giving myself fully to him, body and soul.
“I love you, too.” He smiled softly. I memorized his face just like this.
The little dimple that appeared when he was happy.
The scruff on his face that highlighted his strong jaw.
The dark amber color of his eyes. I never wanted to forget it.
He didn’t look away. His eyes trained on me just as much as mine were on him. His thumb gently stroked my cheek.
“So about that photo,” he said after a time. “I believe your grandma had something she wanted to share with you after your divorce.”
I smiled brightly at him at the reminder of the last little mystery we had yet to unlock.
I pulled the picture out of my purse and looked at it again.
I remembered the day we took this. I had asked Grandma why no old photos had color and why no one smiled in any of the pictures.
I believed the world was that sepia tone and my child’s brain assumed no one smiled because they couldn’t be happy in a world without color.
She taught me about cameras and then we tried to take our own.
I couldn’t stop smiling and laughing, though.
“This mantel is in the library at the back of the house.” I turned towards the foyer and led Anders to the room in question.
“It was her second favorite room of the house, after the kitchen. She didn’t read a ton, but she said that’s where my grandpa spent a lot of his time while he was alive.
She said she felt closest to him when she was in there. ”
I opened the door to the library. The smell of leather and old glue greeted us, inviting us in further, welcoming us with its warm embrace. I immediately went over to the window and opened the curtains to let some light in.
The mantel looked just as it did in the photograph. Not even the trinkets and photos displayed on it had changed. I flipped the photo over and read the inscription on it again.
When you leave him. Look under the fireplace mantel.
It wasn’t much to go on, and I walked up to it and ran my hands over the ledge. Anders stayed back and let me have this to myself. I appreciated the silent support and that he let me have this time to deal with this on my own. I knew he would be there if I needed him, and that was enough.
Something gave slightly under my hand, and I pressed harder on the spot. A soft click sounded in the quiet room and a section of the mantel lowered into my hand. A secret door revealed a small box attached to it. Inside the box, a photograph and an envelope sat nestled in dusty blue silk.
In the photo, my grandma rode on my grandpa’s back, their faces lit with wide smiles. Behind them, tucked into tall trees, sat a small cabin. She looked happier and more free than any time I had ever seen her. The image brought a smile to my lips.
“What is in the envelope?” Anders’s said soft and close just over my shoulder. He must have moved to stand behind me. I leaned back into him and he put his arms around my waist to hold me to him.
I pulled out a stack of papers and saw a letter sitting on top.
Dear Grace,
I wanted to stop it. I tried so hard to stop you from marrying that man, but I just couldn’t.
Your mother blocked me at every turn. I don’t know how I went so wrong with her.
I keep thinking about every mistake I made as a parent and blame myself for her turning out so cruel and thoughtless.
I tried to shield you from that the best I could.
I’m so sorry she never shared who your birth father is.
Unfortunately, I think that is probably a secret she will take to the grave.
I wish I could be there to see you free of that man.
I hope you get free of him. You deserve every happiness in this world, and I don’t think you will ever find it in that pit of vipers.
I should have pushed harder to stay in your life.
I should have done more to contact you when you were an adult.
I was foolish and I think it hurt you. I’m so sorry.
I hope you can forgive me, if for no other reason than you deserve peace.
Included in this envelope is the deed for this house.
It’s in your name. I bypassed putting this in my will for the same reason I wouldn’t release your trust until you were 30 or I was dead.
Your greedy mother, step-father, and husband would try to take it from you.
I know it was a risk, but I’d hoped you would find this sooner rather than later and be able to get the fresh start in life that you deserve.
This place is yours. Do with it what you will.
I hope you find someone to help you fill it with joy, whatever that may look like.
Whatever you do with your life now, remember that you are worthy of love. Go out and find it and don’t let it go when you do.
I love you forever,
Grandma.
I leafed through the rest of the papers and, sure enough, there was a deed to the house. Tears were streamed down my face by the end of the letter. It was so short but said so much.