The next morning Adam had a lot on his mind. Molly’s rejection battled with worry over his upcoming meeting with Benjamin for top spot. But since he’d mostly stewed over the former all night, the latter took precedence this morning.
When he picked up Molly she was her usual sunshiny self.
She handed him several copies of the newspaper photo of Benjamin and Lizzie dancing at Gibby’s. “Thought you and your mom might want copies. Did you get much sleep?”
“Enough. Good idea, thanks. Benjamin might like a copy too. Got the letters?”
“Right here.” She held up three envelopes: the original lost letter and the two letters Nonnie had given them.
As they headed out of town Molly launched into a conversation about their rapidly approaching meeting with Ben. Once Adam had explained his mom’s feelings on the matter, they agreed to play it by ear. Adam would make the final call. If Benjamin was in poor health or if Adam felt it might cause him hardship they wouldn’t give him Nonnie’s letters or tell him about Lizzie’s pregnancy—at least not today.
After that was settled Molly began quizzing him on his writing process. He squirmed at first, as this was the thing that had come between them. But he soon forgot that in light of her insatiable curiosity. He wasn’t used to talking about writing with anyone outside his publishing team. Molly wanted to know everything there was to know, and he found the time flying by.
As they drew closer to Knoxville his thoughts turned to Benjamin, and his palms grew damp against the steering wheel. What would he be like? Would Adam be able to see any of his mother in the man? Any of himself?
Would he have the chance to tell Benjamin who he was? He’d been praying for wisdom since yesterday. He wanted to do the right thing, but it would be difficult and disappointing to walk away without telling Benjamin the truth.
“You all right?” Molly asked. “You’re looking a little pale over there.”
He ran his sweaty palms down his legs one at a time. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
“Because you’re about to see the grandfather you’ve never met?” She gave him a wry smile. “It’s going to be all right. God didn’t bring us this far to let us down now.”
He darted a look at her. She amazed him sometimes. Sometimes? Who was he kidding? Most of the time.
“You’re right,” he said as he merged into the Knoxville traffic. “You’re absolutely right.”
Twenty minutes later they walked down the halls of Village Life Retirement Community. The facility looked more like a nice apartment complex than a nursing home. Beige carpet padded their footfalls, and potted plants and welcome mats greeted guests at each doorway. There were wall sconces beside each door, giving the homey illusion of porch lights.
“Nice place,” Molly whispered.
Adam could only nod. His throat was dry, and he wished he’d brought in his water bottle. He spotted room 107 just ahead to the right and made an effort to regulate his breathing.
The white five-panel door was closed like all the others. They came to a stop on a generic green welcome mat.
Molly looked his way. “Anytime you’re ready.”
Adam tapped on the door. He wished he had a clue what Benjamin looked like now. He kept picturing the photo from 1964, but that was decades ago. There was so much riding on this meeting. So many things to tell Benjamin regarding Lizzie and the letter. So much Adam wanted to know. He was also nervous on his mom’s behalf. He wanted to have good news for her.
A moment later the door swept open. A man about Adam’s height leaned against a walker, peering at him through a pair of black-framed glasses. Though his face was lined with age, his dark hair now white, Adam could still see traces of the younger Benjamin in the sloped eyes and thick brows.
Adam cleared his throat. “Mr. Schwartz? I’m Adam Bradford.” He shook the man’s hand. “We spoke on the phone.”
“Pleased to meet you, young man. You’re right on time.”
“This is Molly Bennett.”
“The innkeeper.” Benjamin shook her hand. “The one who found Lizzie’s letter.” Nothing wrong with his memory.
“Yes, sir,” Molly said with a heart-stopping smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve been looking for you for weeks.”
He returned her smile. “I’ve been right here all along. Please come in.”
They followed him into a room that resembled a small hotel room with a few personal effects. Sunshine flooded through a picture window, making the room feel bright and cheerful, and the faint scent of pine cleaner hung in the air.
Benjamin’s shoulders were slightly stooped, his movements a little slow as he trudged behind his walker. “I usually entertain in one of the community areas, but I thought this conversation could benefit from a little privacy, yes? I’m sorry; I should’ve offered you something to drink. Would you like some coffee or tea? I have one of those new-fangled pod machines.”
“No, thank you,” Adam said, and Molly also declined.
They seated themselves around a small circular dinette table.
“I have to admit,” Benjamin said, “hearing from you the other day was quite a jolt. I’ve thought of Lizzie often over the years, but knowing she tried to contact me way back then leaves me with mixed feelings.”
“I’m sure it does, Mr. Schwartz,” Molly said. “We did bring the letter if you’d like to read it.”
“Oh, wild horses couldn’t stop me. I’ve driven myself crazy wondering what she might’ve said. And please, call me Ben.”
Molly explained in detail how she’d found the letter and a little about their search. Adam slipped in a detail or two when he could stop studying the man long enough to contribute to the conversation.
When Ben laced his hands on the table Adam noticed a simple gold wedding band circling his finger. He met Molly’s gaze and saw she’d noticed also. Adam quickly scanned the room for pictures of his family, but they were too far away.
“Here’s the letter.” Molly pulled it from her purse and slid it across the table. “Maybe we should give you some privacy. We could wait out in the lobby?”
Ben patted her hand. “No, that’s quite all right, dear. It’s been a lot of years. I’m more eager than anything, so if you don’t mind . . .”
“Go right ahead,” Adam said.
The man pulled out the sheet and began reading.
Wanting to give him a modicum of privacy, Adam turned to Molly. She gave him an encouraging smile before her gaze began drifting around the room.
He did the same. There was a twin-size bed, neatly made, and a bureau, covered in photos and greeting cards. Beside the bureau was a waist-high bookcase, its shelves bowing slightly under the weight. Adam could read a few authors from where he sat: C. S. Lewis, Stephen King, Kurt Vonnegut. Quite the variety. He couldn’t help but smile as he wondered at genetics. He also couldn’t help but scan the shelves for his own books, but he didn’t see any.
There was a hand-stitched wall hanging that read Be still and know that I am God. He shared another smile with Molly, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment, soaking in her composure. Her presence calmed him, he realized, and he was glad she was with him today.
“I will wait for you to come back to me,” Ben read softly. “I will wait four years or however long it takes, and we will become husband and wife as my heart has longed to do all along.”
Hands trembling, Ben folded up the letter, then slid it back into its envelope. When he removed his glasses, his dark eyes were clouded with tears. He cleared his throat. “My goodness. I didn’t expect it to hit me this hard.”
Molly slipped him a tissue she must’ve fished from her purse. “It’s an emotional letter. It’s obvious how much she loved you.”
“She sounds just as desperate as I felt at the time. I can’t believe she wrote this. For years I . . . I thought she meant what she’d said. Not at first. At first I just thought her temper had gotten the best of her. But later . . . when I never heard from her . . . when I wrote her and never heard back . . .”
“You wrote her?” Adam asked.
“Several letters. I apologized for upsetting her so, and I begged her to wait for me.”
“Her parents,” Adam said.
“They must’ve intercepted the letters,” Molly added.
Ben put his glasses back on. “I’m afraid you must be right.”
A beat of silence ensued as though they all needed a moment to digest the revelation. It was staggering how such an action could change the course of a person’s life. Multiple people’s lives: Ben, Lizzie, Adam, and his mom, just to start.
Had Lizzie’s lost letter and her parents’ interference advanced God’s will or gotten in the way of it? Maybe they’d never know. But here they were today, meeting Adam’s grandfather. And Adam knew this meeting had been divinely orchestrated. It gave him the courage to continue.
“What brought on the argument, Mr.—Ben? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“That night I’d gone to her house to ask for her father’s blessing. She warned me not to, but I didn’t understand why until much later.”
“Understand what?” Molly asked.
“Her daddy let me know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t good enough for his little girl. I was a janitor at the time, you see. Lizzie was of a different class. Her parents owned a store, and they were well to do.
“I felt lower than a worm by the time I left his house that night. Asking for Lizzie’s hand had taken every bit of courage I could muster, and his rejection was a huge blow.
“Then I ran into Lizzie outside and we argued. She tried to tell me her father was prejudiced—I’m Jewish, you see. But I hardly registered what she was saying. He’d played on all my insecurities—and it worked. But I wasn’t going to give up. I was determined to prove my worth. I was going to enlist so I could go to college and get a degree—and I did. I was blind to the fact that, in his eyes, I would always be nothing. I only realized later that I’d been in no frame of mind to be making important decisions. But Lizzie pressed me, and I just reacted.”
“That’s so sad,” Molly said. “That one night, one mistake, could alter your future that way.”
“It took me four years in the army, four years at university, and several years beyond that to realize Lizzie had been right all along. My worth had nothing to do with a job or a paycheck. My worth, everyone’s worth, is based on God-given value.
“I tried to find her when I got out of the army, but her parents had moved away, and her friend wasn’t there anymore. Nobody knew where Lizzie had gone. It was as if she’d just disappeared into thin air.
“It took a lot of years to get over her. Lizzie was . . .” Ben shook his head, a wistful smile playing over his lips. “She was something. I was head over heels for her.”
Adam’s gaze flickered down to Ben’s hand. To the simple band, encircling his finger. “But you met somebody else, I see.”
Ben twisted the band. “Yes, I did. My Rosa Lee. We met at the school where I ended up teaching. She was a kindergarten teacher, and it was her first year also. She befriended me, but I was still heartsick over Lizzie and a little reticent to have my heart broken again. Rosa Lee was patient with me. I finally got a clue and asked her out.” He chuckled fondly. “We got married the next summer and taught in the same school through most of our careers. She was so good with children. It always grieved me so that—”
At his sudden silence Adam darted a look at Molly. She subtly lifted a shoulder.
“I’m afraid we weren’t able to have children. I was grieved over it, but not like Rosa Lee. She poured herself into every child who passed through her class.”
His mom had no siblings then. And now their news was even more significant. Because Ben did have a child after all.
But he also had a wife. Would she welcome a child another woman had been able to provide him? Adam wasn’t a woman, much less a childless one, but it seemed as though that might be a bitter pill for any woman to swallow.
“I’m sorry,” Molly said. “But I’m glad you were able to move on from Lizzie and find happiness with another woman.”
“Yes, we were very happy. She was my best friend.”
Were? Was? Adam’s heart rate kicked up. He traded looks with Molly. Guilt stabbed at the hope he felt.
“She’s been gone for four years now—complications with diabetes. She monitored it very carefully, but it’s a tricky disease. I was always healthy as a horse, but it turns out my bones are quite brittle, and I fell and broke my hip a while back. Never fully came back from that, and here I am. It’s a nice place though. Having no family, I like having a community so close.”
“Do you get many visitors?” Molly asked.
“I have a wonderful church family where Rosa Lee and I served for years. They have a service here on Sundays just for me—well, it started out that way. Now, a dozen or so of my new friends attend too. And if they fall asleep my pastor doesn’t seem to mind.” His chuckle was deep and rich.
His health—his heart—was apparently fine. He had no wife. The last of the potential obstacles were gone; the pathway was clear. There was no reason not to tell Benjamin Schwartz that he did, indeed, have a child. That at this very moment he was sitting face-to-face with his grandson.