Chapter 10 #2
She thought about the different versions of Gloria she’d known.
There was the grandmother of her childhood who wore aprons, made pancakes and called through the screen door when Emma wandered too far down Hibiscus Lane.
There was the Gloria who phoned every Sunday when Emma was in college and ended every conversation with, “I love you, Em. Take good care.”
Later there were Christmas cards and birthday calls. There was the week Gloria came to Chicago when Emma was twenty-two and stood at the edge of Lake Michigan declaring the water too cold to be legal. Emma could still hear the way she’d said it.
Those memories had always seemed like enough.
Now Emma understood how much they left out.
She had never once asked Gloria whether she was lonely.
It hadn’t occurred to her because Gloria was the person who took care of everyone else.
She was strong, capable and rarely complained.
Emma had always thought of her grandmother as someone who had everything she needed because Gloria had never suggested otherwise.
Someone had been taking care of her too, for eight and a half years.
Emma looked down at Edmund’s letter.
She felt a small ache at the thought of everything she hadn’t known, but she didn’t want to turn it into guilt. She had loved her grandmother, and Gloria had known that. Edmund’s letter told her as much.
What unsettled Emma was realizing that she had known Gloria almost entirely as her grandmother.
Edmund had known her as a woman.
He knew the person Gloria had been after Emma went back to Chicago at the end of every summer.
He knew what she talked about over dinner and what made her laugh when Emma wasn’t there.
He knew the years when Gloria’s health began to change, and he had apparently stayed close enough that she trusted him with something meant for Emma.
That thought made tomorrow feel more important than it had at lunch. Emma reached for her phone and called Priya.
Priya answered on the third ring. Emma heard a car horn and the rattle of stroller wheels over pavement.
“Emma. Give me a second. We’re walking home from the park.”
“I’ll wait.”
The wind noise faded.
“Okay. I’m here. Where are you?”
“On the patio at Winslow’s.”
“What’s the latest?”
“I got a letter today.”
“From Arthur?”
“No. His name is Edmund Fairbanks. He was close to my grandmother for the last eight and a half years of her life. I think they were together.”
Priya was quiet.
“He’s a retired Classics professor from Brown. He’s staying in Key West with his daughter while he recovers from an illness, and he wants to meet me tomorrow morning.”
“Did your grandmother ever mention him?”
“Not once.”
“And you’re sure it’s him? The man Connie remembered?”
“Yes.”
Emma looked at the letter.
“He says he has something Gloria asked him to give me if we ever met.”
Priya was quiet again.
“Wow, that’s exciting.”
“I know.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I don’t know what I’m walking into tomorrow.”
“That makes sense.”
Emma leaned back in the chair. “I keep thinking about how long eight and a half years is. He knew her all that time, and I never knew he existed.”
“You were living your life in Chicago.”
“I know.”
“And your grandmother was living hers in Key West. Maybe tomorrow you get to learn more about that.”
Emma looked toward the palms beyond the patio.
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Then go meet him and listen. You don’t have to decide how you feel about any of it before you get there.”
Emma smiled, “That was almost wise.”
“I have my moments.”
A child said something in the background.
Priya laughed. “Apparently I’m being informed that we need crackers immediately.”
“Then you should handle that.”
“Call me tomorrow after you see him. I can’t wait to hear about him. It’s like a real love story and you know how much I love those.”
“You’re a true romantic, Priya.”
“I don’t know about that. It’s hard to think of myself that way when I’ve got spit-up all over my shirt.”
Emma laughed, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Kiss that baby of yours and get that stroller home.”
Emma ended the call and set her phone beside the letter.
The patio had grown quieter except for the gardener rolling a cart toward the shed. Through the trees, Emma could see lights beginning to come on in the main house.
She thought about how close she’d come to never knowing any of this new information about her grandmother.
If Samantha Larson hadn’t found Gloria’s later will, Emma might never have returned to Key West. She wouldn’t have met Jake or learned that he had kept Gloria’s lilies alive.
Connie wouldn’t have remembered the man who used to read to her grandmother, and Edmund Fairbanks would still be carrying whatever Gloria had trusted him to keep.
The sequence of events impressed upon her that her story wasn’t finished.
She couldn’t imagine what new revelations awaited her in the coming days.
Emma looked down at Edmund’s handwriting.
She wondered what tomorrow would bring, but she decided not to stress about it.
She looked forward to meeting Edmund in The Reading Room, and for once she didn’t try to work it out ahead of time.
Tomorrow she would sit across from a man who had loved her grandmother for eight and a half years and listen to what he had to say.
For tonight, knowing that her grandmother had spoken of her with great love was enough.
Emma folded the letter along its original creases and slipped it back into the envelope before carrying it inside with the probate file.
Tomorrow at ten, she would finally meet Edmund Fairbanks.