Chapter 21 #2
There was a dull ache that felt like it made a permanent home inside Dahlia’s heart.
It was true. Lil was her biological grandmother, and Gene was her biological grandfather.
A medley of emotions collided inside her as she stared out her window.
She felt relief, regret, grief, and joy too.
It didn’t change what Gran and Pop were to her; it only made her feel more loved.
But she still needed to know why Lil did what she did.
Dahlia folded the certificate back up and rested it on top of the journals, making a mental note to show Gene.
The other looked to be a handwritten letter from Lil.
Dahlia slowly pulled it open and read it to herself.
Dear Dahlia,
Enclosed are my journals. They hold the key to a secret that has been buried for far too long. I didn’t have the guts to share it while I was alive, and I am deeply sorry for that.
I met an amazing man in 1955. He was what Daisy would call my twin flame.
It was the summer my father took a job at CBS Studios in California.
I was just sixteen but wise beyond my years.
He was nineteen, and oh, was he a looker.
He swept me off my feet, and we fell madly in love within weeks.
It was the kind of love that moved mountains and parted the seas.
It was the stuff movies were made of and books written about.
At the time, he was just an errand boy, but I knew he would make it big in film someday. He had so much drive and determination.
Dahlia swallowed, fighting her looming tears. “Our stories are so parallel,” she whispered and kept reading.
My father found out the week we left and cursed our union because Gene was poor and of a different faith.
He beat him and left him to die on the sidewalk.
He threatened to have him arrested for statutory rape if I stayed.
I would have left everyone behind for him, I loved him that much, but I knew my father would deliver on his promise.
I couldn’t bear the thought of Gene in jail.
So I went home and, shortly after, found out I was pregnant.
My father gave me two choices: to give the baby, your mother, up for adoption or let my sister raise her.
She and your pop couldn’t have children of their own, so we agreed.
We made a pact between sisters that we’d never speak the truth until after my father died.
It was the only way I could be in her life.
It was the only way I reckoned I would survive.
After my father died, we couldn’t bring ourselves to tell Rose and uproot her life.
So the secret stayed buried out of love for her.
There were many times I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you would hate me forever.
And I couldn’t leave this earth like that.
Lizzie let me name your mother Rose. In my mind, she was always Rose Ingrid, but to everyone else, she was Rose Kathleen.
I built a garden to heal myself, and on every birthday, I planted and painted a rose.
I couldn’t be her mother in real life, but in that garden, I was.
I wrote her letters and birthday cards and buried important things in tin cans that only a mother would keep.
Tears rolled steadily down her cheeks, wetting her lips. She realized it wasn’t her mother who’d buried a time capsule; it was Lil. She grabbed a tissue from her glove compartment and kept going.
This must be shocking, but I need you to know where you came from.
Your biological grandfather’s name is Gene Obermann, but he changed his name to Charles Halston when he hit it big in the movies.
I am hoping he is still alive. Please get in touch with him, tell him what happened, and that I died loving him. It would be my last wish fulfilled.
Dahlia felt gutted for ever doubting Lil. She pressed her fist against her chest and continued.
With this letter, I hope to set decades of shame and guilt free.
Please know I love you with all that I am.
You’re a gift I didn’t deserve. I know you felt like you didn’t belong anywhere after your parents died, but you did.
You belonged with me. You are meant for a life of color, like the hues of a sunset and the palette in my garden.
Own and chase what brings you joy, my sweet Dahlia, and don’t ever let it go.
Whatever you decide to do with my house, you belong somewhere, everywhere, but mostly to yourself.
I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
Love, your grandmother,
Lil
“Oh, Lil.” Her body shook as she sobbed. “I would have understood and forgiven you,” she whispered, feeling like a blubbering mess.
All Dahlia could think about was all the years, if she had known, it could have been different. But would it have changed anything? To her, Lil was as close as you could get to a mother and grandmother, if not closer.
Dahlia’s hands trembled as she drove back to the house. She had to call Kara. She dialed her number, and it just rang. The sound was hollow. Her voicemail came on, and Dahlia quickly hung up. There were no words for what happened in the last twelve hours.
Her chest physically hurt, and her lips quivered.
She was grief-stricken. It was yet another death and rebirth all at once.
This time, the end of a life unlived and the birth of the truth.
She hoped being back at Lil’s would give her the time to process this information without feeling pulled in any other direction. And she hoped Kara would call her back.
A few hours later, her new reality was slowly rooting itself.
With still no word from Noah, she admired the midday view of her gardens from the bench.
The sun glowed over the bright blooms, making it seem almost heavenly.
Harry sat at her feet, knowing all too well that something was wrong.
It was hard to find even the slightest bit of air in the sweltering heat, but she fought for every molecule.
Dahlia’s mind floated back to the day she told Lil she was pregnant after her Aunt Cathy kicked her out. It was a spring day, and her cherry blossoms in the front yard were in full bloom.
Dahlia walked up to the front door, and before she could open it, Lil was standing there with her arms wide open. “Come here, my girl.”
Dahlia rushed into her arms and sobbed on her shoulder.
“There, there. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m here. We’re going to get through this together.” Lil squeezed her tight.
“But I’ve just thrown away my scholarship to RISD.” Dahlia couldn’t get the words out. “And I’ve disappointed everyone, including my parents.”
Lil pulled her back and held her cheeks. “You listen to me. What you are doing takes more courage than getting a degree, and while your parents might have been shocked at first, they would have eventually come around. A baby has a way of bringing people together. You’ll see.”
Harry barked at the squirrels in a playful chase up the willow tree, waking Dahlia from the memory.
Dahlia had always wondered how Lil could say that with such certainty.
And now she knew. Daisy had brought everyone together, just as her mother, Rose, had.
She leaned forward, feeling her heart sink to the bottom of the ocean.
Being unable to be a mother to your own child, and watch her grow up right before your eyes, must have been the worst pain imaginable.
Dahlia looked up through her wet lashes at the rainbow of colors that surrounded her.
It dawned on her that this was Lil’s lighthouse, serving as her beacon of hope.
Lil’s journals sat beside her, waiting to be opened, but Dahlia was unsure how much more pain she could endure for one day.
Her eyelids were gummy, and her nose swollen.
The flowery aromas from the garden were lost on her as she was too stuffy to smell anything.
Maybe it could wait until tomorrow, after the restaurant opening.
The nearby willow branches bent in the breeze, easing her angst. She closed her eyes.
She thought about the courage it took for Lil to choose happiness every day when she could have been bitter.
The stack of marbled notebooks glared at her.
Dahlia sucked in a lungful of sweet, flowery air as the breeze opened to a random page. What was Lil trying to tell her?
August 12, 1955
Dear G,
Tonight, we drove along the Pacific Coast Highway with the top down in your borrowed Capri.
The sun melted into the horizon, painting the sky with a kaleidoscope of colors that had only lived in my imagination.
It was truly the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen until I glanced over at you.
Your slicked-back, wavy dark hair waffled in the California wind, and you smiled at me with such confidence.
You reached for my hand and laced your long fingers with mine.
My stomach took flight, and I knew I could no longer control my heart.
The smell of you lingers on your sports jacket as I sit on my bed, too tired to take it off.
My skin tingles from your touch, and my lips still feel joined to yours.
No matter where I go or who I become, it will always be you and me from this point on.
I twirl the single rose you gave me in my fingers.
The silky petals tickle my nose, and I inhale their sweet fragrance.
I smile, knowing a rose will never again be just another rose.
Forever Yours,
L
Dahlia gasped in astonishment. That was why she named her mother Rose. With a heaviness that felt endless, she kept going. She flipped through the pages and read words from beyond the grave.
I felt her kick today.
I miss you more than words.
I wish you were here.
My heart aches for you.
I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you.
I cried myself to sleep last night, imagining you holding my belly beside me.
I’m scared, Gene.
The neighbor saw me today. I hope she doesn’t tell anyone.
My father says I bring shame to his family.
She’ll be here any day, Gene.
How can I give her to my sister? How can I let someone else raise our daughter?
We had a daughter today. I named her Rose. She’s perfect.
Today, someone stopped Lizzie at the grocery store and told her how pretty Rose was. My heart broke. It’s so hard not being her mother. It’s a pain that breaks me into pieces.
It’s her birthday. Rose is one. I planted a rose bush in her honor. She ate cake and got it all over her face.
She’s a ham. She has your wit, Gene.
I’m painting again, just flowers from her garden.
My heart aches for you. It’s as raw as the day I left.
Dahlia’s eyes and throat were as dry as the desert, but she continued. This time, skipping ahead.
June 18, 1983
G,
Our girl graduated high school today. Rose looked regal in her green cap and gown. She’s independent, fierce, charming, and kind. You’d be so proud. She got a full scholarship to Boston College and will head there this fall.
All My Love,
L
Dahlia rubbed her temples. On the one hand, she felt like someone had sliced her open and held her heart in their hand. On the other hand, she felt chosen for this and that it was a privilege to be a voyeur in this timeless love affair.
With that, she peeked at the last page—January 20, 1997—and closed it up.
Dahlia was trying to hold it together. She considered calling Kara again but didn’t.
If she wanted to talk, she would call her back.
She thought about Daisy but didn’t want to burden her.
And Noah, well, that was obviously not happening.
As hard as it was to accept, she was on her own.
The rest would have to wait. She couldn’t bear any more tonight. Her soul felt like it needed CPR. She still had to call Gene back but maybe tomorrow. It wasn’t even four yet, but after what she’d been through, she could sleep for days.
After a long afternoon nap that faded into the night, Dahlia lay there staring at the ceiling.
The moon was bright, lending just enough light to the room.
She tossed and turned, feeling the sheets stick to her tacky skin.
The clock read 12:38. Her eyes moved to the tassel that hung on her lamp.
She rolled onto her back again and thought about the last entry she read.
She heard Harry moan on the floor. “You’re having a tough time too, bud? ”
Suddenly, her feet hit the floor. She threw on her sweatshirt and ran to the backyard. She needed to see what else was buried. She hit the spotlights inside the barn door, illuminating Lil’s raised garden beds.
Dahlia funneled her way under Lil’s roses as carefully as possible but came up empty-handed.
Her hands and legs were marred in dirt. None of this made sense, so why should digging in the dark be any less crazy?
Her eyes burned, but she kept going. One tin can was all she needed to find, and then she could call it a night. She was so close, yet so far.
The more she dug, the more she ruminated about Lil and Gene and how bad she felt about accusing Gran. It was all coming to a head. She couldn’t get rid of the heaviness and the ache that felt like death, no matter how hard she tried.
As she dug her way to the back of her grandmother’s rose garden, Dahlia finally hit metal.
“Hallelujah!” she let out a whisper-yell as her eyes wandered to Noah’s place.
It was still dark. She was glad he wasn’t home to see this.
He might think she’d lost her marbles. But he would also think it was pretty freaking cool.
With her hands, she scooped out the soil.
It began to rain, but she couldn’t stop; she was too close.
The tin can was lodged between the roots.
She jabbed it with the shovel and pulled it with all her might.
The large droplets cooled her sweaty body.
It was cathartic, as if the rain were washing away the secrets.
It felt poignant. Dahlia yanked it one last time and fell on her butt.
She sat there in the rain, feeling Lil with her.
With the can pressed to her swift-beating chest, she whispered at the dark sky.
“No more secrets, Lil. It’s time to set them free. ”