20. Carla
CHAPTER 20
Carla
I stepped out of my car, clutching the small bouquet I’d brought for Grandma, the cellophane crinkling in my sweaty grip.
I could do this. Okay, maybe I was trying to psych myself up. It was just Grandma. Sweet, loving Grandma who definitely wouldn’t spill any earth-shattering family secrets today.
My heart hammered as I made my way to the entrance of the nursing home. The automatic doors whooshed open, cool air rushing out to greet me. I breathed in deeply, the familiar scent of antiseptic tinged with a hint of potpourri filling my nostrils.
As I walked down the corridor, my sneakers squeaking on the polished linoleum, I couldn’t help but notice the life buzzing around me. Elderly residents shuffled past, some with walkers, others being pushed in wheelchairs by attentive nurses. The soft hum of conversation drifted from open doorways, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.
“Good afternoon, Carla!” chirped a passing nurse. “Here to see Rose?”
I nodded, managing a smile. “You bet. How’s she doing today?”
“Oh, chipper as always. She’s been working on some new knitting project all morning.”
My smile grew more genuine. That was Grandma Rose, alright. Always keeping her hands busy.
As I neared her room, my steps slowed. The questions I’d been wrestling with for weeks bubbled up again, making my palms sweat. Why had Dad been so tight-lipped about our family’s history with the Wells? What could have possibly happened to drive such a deep wedge between the once-close friends?
Taking one last deep breath, I squared my shoulders and knocked on Grandma’s door, ready to face whatever truths awaited me inside.
I pushed open the door and the sight of Grandma instantly warmed my heart. There she sat in her favorite armchair by the window, bathed in soft afternoon light, her nimble fingers working away at a vibrant scarf.
“Carla, sweetheart!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up. She set her knitting aside and opened her arms wide. “Come give your grandmother a hug!”
I rushed over, careful not to crush the flowers as I embraced her. The familiar scent of lavender and yarn enveloped me, and I felt like a little girl again, safe in her arms.
“Hi, Grandma,” I said, pulling back with a smile. “I brought you these.” I handed her the bouquet, a cheerful mix of daisies and carnations.
“Oh, they’re lovely!” Grandma exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. “They’ll brighten up this old room nicely.”
As she fussed with the flowers, I settled into the chair across from her, my heart racing. How did someone casually bring up decades-old family drama?
“So, how’ve you been, dear?” she asked, turning her attention back to me.
I laughed, grateful for the easy opening. “Oh, you know, just trying to survive the daily chaos. I helped take care of my friend Rebecca’s kids last week so she and her husband could take a long-overdue honeymoon. How about you, Grandma?” I asked, gesturing to her knitting. “Starting a new project?”
“Oh, this old thing?” She held up the scarf, a riot of blues and purples. “Just keeping my hands busy. You know me, can’t sit still for long.”
I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. It was now or never. “Grandma,” I began, my voice wavering slightly, “I actually came here today because... well, because I wanted to ask you about something.”
Grandma’s hands stilled, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “What is it, dear?”
I took a deep breath, fortifying myself. “I want to know about our family’s history with the Wells. Why there’s been this... feud for so long.”
As the words left my mouth, I couldn’t help but think of Eli again. His infuriating grin, the way he always seemed to show up just when I least expected it.
I focused back on Grandma, watching as a shadow crossed her face. My heart sank. Would she even entertain the conversation? Her knitting needles lay motionless in her lap, the cheerful scarf forgotten. I watched as her expression shifted, a mix of pain and hesitation clouding her usually warm features.
“Oh, Carla,” she sighed, her voice heavy. “That’s quite a loaded question you’re asking.”
I leaned forward, my heart hammering. “I know it might be difficult, Grandma, but I need to understand. It’s... it’s affecting my life more than I’d like to admit.”
And by ‘affecting,’ I meant making me question every interaction I had with a certain frustratingly handsome firefighter. But I kept that particular thought to myself.
Her eyes darted to the window, then back to me. “It’s not a pleasant story, dear. Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Please,” I urged, reaching out to clasp her hand. “I can’t keep living with this divide, not knowing why it exists. How am I supposed to move forward when the past keeps holding me back?”
Like keeping me from fully embracing the heart-flipping, butterfly-inducing feelings I got around Eli.
My grandmother’s fingers tightened around mine, her resolve visibly wavering. “I suppose you’re old enough now,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. “And perhaps... perhaps it’s time the truth came to light.”
I held my breath, sensing we were on the cusp of something momentous. Whatever Grandma was about to reveal, I knew it would change everything.
“It all started with your grandfather,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Kenneth.”
I remembered Grandpa Kenny a little, but he’d died when I was young.
“Kenneth was a well-respected veterinarian. And his business partner was Harold Wells, Senior.”
I nodded. I had known about the business partnership falling apart, so I was following.
“Harold’s daughter, Carol, worked at the clinic after school. Bookkeeping, cleaning, helping however they needed.” My heart sank at the sad tone of my grandmother’s voice.
“I made excuses for years, denied it to everyone and myself. But... I knew. My Kenneth slept with that girl, Carol.”
I gasped, struggling to comprehend. Grandma stared out the window. “It was a scandal. Carol was young, barely out of high school, and Kenny was married with a child.”
Married to Grandma, I reminded myself. My heart cracked for how hard this must be for her to recount.
“The affair itself was bad enough,” Grandma continued, her eyes growing misty. “But then Carol found out she was pregnant.”
“Oh no,” I whispered, my heart sinking for the younger version of my grandma who’d been betrayed by her husband.
Grandma’s voice cracked as she spoke. “Kenny denied everything. He refused to acknowledge the child, left Carol to face the consequences alone. The town all but shunned her. She claimed he had pressured her, and the entire thing grew worse and worse.”
I watched as a tear slipped down my grandmother’s cheek, and I felt my own eyes welling up in response. The weight of decades-old pain hung heavy in the air between us.
“I can’t even imagine how Carol must have felt,” I said, my mind reeling. All those years of family tension, the cold silences and pointed glares... it all stemmed from this betrayal.
Grandma dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “It tore our family apart, Carla. The pain, the lies... it was like a poison that spread through both the Putnams and the Wells.”
I sat there, stunned, as the pieces of our family’s broken history began to fall into place. Suddenly, all those years of tension made a twisted kind of sense. And all I could think was: How on earth was I supposed to face Eli now?
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My mind raced, trying to process the bombshell Grandma Putnam had just dropped. Anger bubbled up inside me – anger at Grandpa Kenny for his cowardice, at the unfairness of it all. But mostly, I felt an overwhelming sadness for Carol and the child who never knew their father.
“What happened next?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Grandma’s eyes clouded with memory. “The Wells family stood by Carol through it all. Supported her, defended her against the rumors and gossip. But your dad...”
I leaned forward, my heart hammering. “What about my dad?”
“Jim couldn’t accept it,” she said, shaking her head. “He refused to believe his father could do such a thing. Kenny never admitted anything. Jim called Carol a liar, said she was trying to ruin the Putnam name.”
“Oh, no,” I muttered, feeling sick. My own father, taking the side of a man who’d abandoned his own child. I thought of all the times Dad had spoken proudly of the Putnam family values. How could he have been so blind?
Grandma continued, her voice heavy with regret. “The friendship between Harold and Jim crumbled. The business partnership between Harold Senior and Kenny obviously fell apart. And the rest, well...” She gestured vaguely, encompassing decades of hurt and misunderstanding.
I sat back, feeling drained. All those years of feuding, of cold shoulders and muttered insults – all because of one man’s betrayal and another’s refusal to see the truth. And here I was, caught in the middle, my heart tugging me toward Elijah Wells despite it all.
“Grandma,” I said, my voice thick with emotion, “does Dad know now? That Grandpa lied?”
I watched Grandma’s face, searching for any hint of what she might be thinking. Her eyes, wise and warm, met mine with a mixture of hope and caution.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” she said softly. “He loved his father… I didn’t want to change that. Kenny was a decent man who made some big mistakes. But he loved Jim. How could I tarnish the man Jimmy looked up to his entire life?”
I shook my head, my mind racing. My dad was hanging on to a lie about his dad and it was ripping my life apart.
And how could I even broach this subject with Eli? ‘Hey, by the way, did you know our families have been feuding over my grandfather’s affair with your aunt and the child he abandoned?’ Yeah, that’d go over well. Of course Harold Wells hated my family.
If what Carol had said was true, that she’d been pressured – I pushed back the thought. One version of the truth was bad enough, but if my grandfather had been a manipulative monster in addition to being an unfaithful husband?
I’d deal with that later.
“Carla,” Grandma said, reaching out to pat my hand, “I know this is a lot to take in. But maybe knowing the truth can help heal old wounds.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Heal? Grandma, this is like finding out our whole lives have been built on quicksand. How do we even begin to fix this?”
It was time to face the truth – not just about our families, but about my own feelings as well. How could I ask Elijah and his family to forgive something like a rejected child and an illicit affair?
“I have faith in you, Carla. You’ve always had a way of bringing people together, even as a little girl.”
Her words struck a chord, and I felt a tiny spark of hope ignite in my chest. Could I really be the one to bridge this divide?
As if reading my thoughts, Grandma squeezed my hand. “It’s time to put this feud behind us.”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I agreed with her. I stood up, my legs feeling like jelly beneath me. “Thanks, Grandma,” I said, wrapping my arms around her frail shoulders. “For everything.”
She hugged me back fiercely, her strength surprising me. “You’re welcome, sweetie. Now go on, make us proud.”
“I’ll try,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek.
I made my way out of the nursing home, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The antiseptic smell faded, replaced by the crisp winter air as I stepped outside. My feet carried me toward my car, but my brain was miles away.