They reached Philipsburg by nine o’clock the following morning. The quiet little town reminded Jeff of so many other small towns in this day of a sluggish economy. As he drove down Main Street, store fronts were empty and there were several Going Out Of Business signs in windows. Some boarded up buildings were past the repairable stage and needed torn down.
He stole a glance at LynAnn. Her uneasiness became evident as soon as they reached the town. Her lips sagged downwards, and she grasped her hands together so tightly they blanched.
“There’s where we used to live.” Her tone flat, she pointed out the buff brick Baptist Church with its high white steeple and the parsonage next to it. “Turn right at the next intersection.” In monotone, she gave directions to her friend’s house.
A little further down the street, he heard her sharp intake of air. “Oh, what happened? There’s Todd’s father’s car dealership, but a new name is on the sign now.”
Jeff glanced at the large GMC lot. The car lot was packed with autos and trucks, but the high flashing neon sign read JORDIN’S AUTOS, NEW AND USED VEHICLES.
“Sandy didn’t tell me about this. Why isn’t Todd’s father running it now?”
“How old is he? Maybe he retired.” He was thinking rationally once more.
“I guess it’s possible.” She didn’t sound convinced.
After a few more blocks and turns, they reached an area of scattered older homes. They stopped at an old, but well-kept Victorian. A woman stood out front, and he knew immediately it was her friend, Sandy.
Matt and Cassie also knew her, and as soon as he turned off the motor, they scurried from the back seat and ran to her. Soon, a swarm of children streamed from the house to greet them. “Hi, Sandy.” LynAnn exited from the car and gave her old friend a warm hug, and the large woman returned her embrace.
When he joined them, Sandy turned to him with a huge smile and pulled him into her hefty arms. “I know who you are, Jeff. I’m glad you’re here.” Her gaze scanned his face.
He assessed the friendly woman who had light blonde hair in a short cut waved around her face. Although nearly as tall as he, she undoubtedly out-weighed him. “I’m happy to be here, Sandy.”
She nodded her approval, but he wasn’t sure if she approved of him personally or because he had accompanied LynAnn on her unpleasant journey. “Susan, my sister, is going to watch the youngsters while we’re at the funeral, and she can’t wait to meet you, Jeff.”
They went into her big house with a clump of kids in all shapes and sizes trailing behind them. Once they were inside the spacious, wallpapered living room with bay windows reaching nearly to the floor, he met Sandy’s sister. Susan was a shorter version of her older sister. “Nice to meet you, Susan.” He took a step back, and his gaze swept upward to the top of her blonde head. “I’m looking for your halo. Surely after this”—he motioned to the horde of children—“you can apply for sainthood.”
She burst out laughing. “Mother Teresa I’m not, but I’ve heard good words about you.” She scanned his face and like her sister, smiled her approval.
Sandy gathered her purse to leave for Sara’s funeral, but before they left Jeff became serious. “Be very careful with the children, Susan. Lock the doors after us and don’t allow them outside.”
“I am aware there are problems, and I’ll be careful,” Susan assured him.
Ten minutes later, he, Sandy, and LynAnn arrived at the funeral home.
LynAnn cried softly when she saw her aunt. “I wish I had spent more time with her.” She dabbed at her tears, but was fairly composed.
A few teachers who once worked with Sara traveled from Philadelphia to pay their respects. He wondered if perhaps the elderly women had arrived the previous evening and stayed overnight at a motel. Some parishioners from the local Baptist Church also visited, and LynAnn was surprised and happy to see them. He noticed they spoke well of her father and mother, but Todd’s name was not mentioned. No one from Todd’s family made an appearance.
While LynAnn talked with guests, Sandy, her face full of concern, sat beside him. “Is she really all right?” she wanted to know, her apprehension evident in her voice.
Jeff sighed. “I’m not sure. Saturday evening we went dancing, and she thought she saw Todd in the lounge.”
Sandy lowered her head and stroked her forehead. “Whew. She’s in worse shape than I thought. I guess she told you about Todd.”
“Some.” He nodded. “She’ll tell me more when she’s up to it.”
“She went through pure agony after Todd died.” Sandy studied LynAnn while she spoke quietly to him.
“I understand you stood by her through it all,” he commended her.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I did what any friend would do. We met in high school and we’ve been friends ever since. After her mother died she came to my home to stay on weekends from college. She had nowhere else to go, and she worked at a nursing home when she could to have some spending money.” She paused and sadly shook her head. “You see, when her father died, she and her mother had to move from the parsonage into a small apartment. Then when her mother died, LynAnn had a year of school to complete and nowhere to live, so my family kind of took her in. Once she graduated and had a job, she moved into her own apartment, and then she met Todd.”
Jeff absorbed this information. He had no idea the woman had been through so much tragedy in her short life. She was homeless after her mother died. “Why didn’t she go live with her aunt? Surely she would have taken her in.”
“We were in our last year of school, and she didn’t want to transfer schools, although Sara did want her to go to Philly and live with her.” Sandy was silent for a while as they both observed LynAnn for any sign of distress. “I was there a few times when Sara visited them at the parsonage. Her mother and father were cold to her, especially her own sister, Naomi, LynAnn’s mother. Their attitude bothered LynAnn, and there was never a real reason for their hostility. Sara would call asking to visit, and her father would make up an excuse why she shouldn’t visit.”
Jeff frowned at this information and glanced at LynAnn who was talking to the teachers, and appeared to be doing well. “Really, how odd.”
Sandy agreed. “Neither LynAnn or I could ever figure it out. We discussed it often.”
“LynAnn told me her father didn’t approve of Sara having a live-in boyfriend. Perhaps her living arrangement angered him,” he suggested.
Sandy shook her head. “Her father was a tough old geezer, you didn’t dare cross him, but even after her boyfriend died, Sara rarely visited.”
As they both continued to observe LynAnn, Jeff asked, “Where was Todd’s precinct?”
“At Deerfield, about twenty miles from here. Why?”
“Just wondering.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Did you know he was doing undercover work?”
Sandy shook her head. “Not until he died. Everyone thought he was at some special police training school.”
Suddenly, LynAnn gazed around the room, walked away from the guests, and headed to a front window. Barely moving the drape, she squinted and peered out.
He was immediately at her side. “What are you doing?” he questioned, worried by her behavior.
She turned back to him and rubbed her hands together. “Sometimes I get this creepy feeling and the hairs on the back of my neck stands on end. I think someone is watching me. It’s been happening ever since my apartment was ransacked.”
Warning bells signaled in Jeff’s head; she wasn’t doing as well as her outward appearance would seem. He glanced at Sandy and her wide-eyed gaze went from him and then back to LynAnn. “I think we’ve all been on edge since then. It’s only normal.” He attempted to explain away her behavior and led her to a seat.
When the minister gave his final prayer at the cemetery and the funeral was over, the funeral director went to his car and came back with a padded manila envelope and handed it to LynAnn. “Your aunt asked me to give this to you but only after she was buried.”
“Thank you, Frank.” Accepting the envelope, she held it to her breast. Then she reached in her purse and pulled out a smaller white envelope and handed it to the mortician. Jeff hoped she didn’t have to pay for her aunt’s funeral. Undoubtedly, her aunt would have taken care of her own final expenses, but then he remembered she was still paying for Todd’s funeral.
Before they left the cemetery LynAnn led them to her parents’ graves and then to Todd’s. She was silent and calm at her parent’s graves, but when they reached Todd’s she was noticeably upset. Jeff held on to her and after a time, he edged her away. “Come on, LynAnn.”
Positioned on her other side, Sandy linked her arm in hers. “He’s gone now. He was a good man and he loved you very much.” They led her from the cemetery.
Always observant, once out of the cemetery Jeff turned back and scanned the area. He never minded cemeteries before, but he didn’t like this one. Now the hair on the back of his neck tingled. Perhaps he was becoming paranoid too, or perhaps LynAnn’s uneasiness had rubbed off on him. He wished they could return to Pottersville immediately, but since Susan was preparing a lunch for them, they drove back to Sandy’s house.
LynAnn said she wanted to be alone to read her aunt’s letter, and Jeff went to the kitchen with Sandy, leaving her in the living room. The house nearly shook with all the children playing about. Suddenly, like a wounded rabbit caught in a trap, a long, mournful yelp echoed from the living room. In an instant, he and Sandy both sped to LynAnn.
“LynAnn, LynAnn. What is it?” Jeff got to her first and pulled her into his arms.
She was panting for air, and tears streamed down her face. Sara’s letter had fallen to the floor. Her hand peeled open, and there was a clink as something hit the hardwood floor.
Sandy scooped the object from the floor and examined it. “It’s her opal ring. The one she promised you,” she gasped.
LynAnn scrutinized the ring in her friend’s hand and then stared blankly at the two of them. “She was my mother.” Her words were barely audible.
Shocked, he and Sandy glanced at each other in amazement and then their gaze went back to LynAnn. “What did you say?” Jeff eased her back into her chair and knelt before her.
Closing her eyes, LynAnn tried to speak again, but she only managed to whisper. “She was my birth mother. Read it, Jeff,” she pleaded handing him Sara’s letter. “I know who my father was now.”
“Your father?” Jeff was astonished by her declaration. He picked up the letter. “Are you sure? Do you want me to read it aloud?”
Drawing a ragged breath, she nodded and he began to read:
Dearest LynAnn,
If you are reading this letter you have committed my body to the earth. I want you to know how very much I have always loved you. Ever since you were born, I wanted to hold you in my arms and tell you the truth. I am your birth mother. I wanted so much to raise you myself, but your father would not allow it. There was a time during my sister’s and your father’s marriage when they decided to part. He gave up the ministry for several months and came to Philadelphia. We began spending time together and ultimately fell in love and you were conceived in our love. Our affair lasted three months and then he decided he wanted to go back to his wife and the ministry. When I discovered I was pregnant I told him and Naomi, and he was the one who decided they would raise you, because he was your true father. I’m sorry I had to die before you could know the truth, but it is best this way. Please forgive me for taking so long to tell you. I love you with my heart and always will.
Your mother,
Sara
As he neared the end of the letter, Jeff’s voice faltered. He gave the handwritten letter back to LynAnn. “She wanted you to know and this was the only way she could tell you,” he spoke softly.
Tears ran down her face, and more sobbing filled the room. When he glanced at Sandy, she was also crying.
“Aunt Sara was my mother and my adoptive father was actually my real father. They should have told me,” LynAnn cried out. “Why didn’t she tell me after my mother and father died? I needed to know and it was a secret.”
Sandy found her voice. “It was a dirty secret, LynAnn. Now we know why she and Naomi never got along. Your father was a minister, and it was best to say you were his adopted daughter. He would have been tossed out of the ministry if the truth were ever known.”
LynAnn’s brows arched, as if finding her friend’s explanation hard to swallow. “All those years I searched for my mother and they all knew,” she growled. Besides being in shock over the letter, she was also angry.
“Read her letter again, LynAnn. She did want to tell you.” Jeff nodded toward the letter.
Sandy sat beside her and together, they reread Sara’s letter. After a long while and more tears, the women began reminiscing about Sara and although LynAnn was sad, her anger had diminished.
Once Jeff ascertained LynAnn was in good hands with Sandy, he made an excuse to leave. “I have to check the brakes on my car.” To himself, the white lie sounded phony, but the women, still talking about the letter and old times, didn’t notice.
A few minutes later, Jeff pulled his treasured Beemer into the GMC dealership and strolled around the lot pretending to check out automobiles.
It wasn’t long before an eager salesman found him. “The Dodge you’re looking at is a beauty, but it can’t compare with the BMW you drove up in.”
Jeff continued to examine the car as if he were interested. “Actually, I was looking for a car for my girlfriend. She’s kind of partial to Buicks though. I thought Todd Johnson’s father owned this place. I was in Afghanistan with Todd, and I promised if I ever got the chance I’d stop by and see him.”
At the mention of Todd’s name the man’s demeanor quickly changed from over-friendly salesman to aloof stranger. “Old man Johnson isn’t around here anymore, but his wife, Marge still does our bookwork. She’s inside”—he tilted his head toward the cement-block building—“but I don’t think she wants to see you.”
Jeff ignored the man and swiftly headed inside. The odor of car grease and motor oil quickly stung his nostrils. He found Mrs. Johnson, LynAnn’s mother-in-law, her children’s grandmother, in a cubby hole at the far end of the building. “Hello, Mrs. Johnson.” He gave her a nod. “The salesman outside told me who you were, and I had to come in and meet you. I’m James Talbot.” He made up the fake name on the spot. “I was in the Marines with Todd, and I hoped he was around. He asked me to stop and see him if I ever got this way.”
The woman was probably a little younger than his mother. Her body was slender, and her gray hair wrapped tightly around the back of her head. At the mention of Todd’s name, her face turned ashen. “Todd? You knew Todd?” Her voice quivered as she spoke.
“We were on a covert operation together in Kabul. Neither of us could sleep one night, and we sat up together and shot some bull. He told me where he lived and his father owned this car dealership. I’m driving south and had some time, so on a whim I thought I would stop by to see him.” Jeff felt like an A-one heel making up the lies for the poor woman.
Marge Johnson took in what he said, then hung her head and studied her desk top for a minute. When she lifted her head again, she gave it a slow shake. “I’m sorry, but it’s not possible. Todd’s been dead for almost four years.”
“What? What happened?” His body jerked as if shocked.
The woman hung her head again. “I guess I can tell you. It’s no secret.” She inhaled a deep breath. “Todd committed suicide.”
“No.” Jeff hated himself for making up the farce. He pitied the woman. “I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s what we were told anyway, although I still can’t believe it myself. You see, he joined the state police after he was discharged from the Marines and was working undercover and killed himself. His wife was pregnant at the time and my husband believes the baby wasn’t Todd’s, but I don’t think she would cheat on him. She wasn’t the type, but my husband insists he killed himself over her.”
“Is his wife around? Maybe I could meet her.”
Mrs. Johnson shook her head. “She moved away sometime back.” Then she tugged at her desk drawer, dug deep into it, and pulled out a photo. “I do have a picture of Todd’s children. His wife sends them about twice a year. I have to hide them from my husband though. He calls the youngest one a bastard.”
She handed Jeff the picture and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw LynAnn’s little children sitting in front of their Christmas tree.
“They’re gorgeous,” he declared and handed the picture back.
Marge Johnson studied the print for a time and then spoke wistfully, “I’d love to see them, but I guess I never will.”
Her grandchildren were half a mile up the road running around like wild colts on loco weed, but of course, Jeff couldn’t tell her. “I’m truly sorry. You’ve lost more than your son.” He uttered more condolences. “What a terrible loss. How sad for you.” He reached for her thin hand and held it. “I should be on my way, but perhaps we’ll meet again sometime.” Releasing her hand, he turned and headed for the front door.
“You know, you look familiar to me. I think I’ve seen you on TV,” the older woman spoke to his back.
He turned on his heels. “You probably have. I do advertising for WKMR radio and I’ve done some television commercials for them.”
“Of course, now I can place you.”
With a somber nod, he headed for the door. He was sorry he had to trick the woman, but her story did mesh with LynAnn’s.
He drove back to the Victorian house with a heavy heart wondering how one family could become so torn apart. It was hours later when he thanked Sandy for her hospitality while LynAnn hugged her fiercely, and they headed back to Pottersville.
When they reached LynAnn’s apartment, he was worried about her. She’d spoken very little on the drive back. How much more could one tiny woman take? “Do you need to pack more clothes before we go to my house?”
She reached for his hands and stepped back a bit so she could look up into his eyes. “Jeff, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my children, but I have to get back to some normalcy in my life. I can’t go on depending on you. It’s not fair to you.” Trying to make light of the situation, she forced a smile on her face, “Although I will miss you tucking me into bed.”
“No, LynAnn.” He tugged her near. “I can’t leave you like this. Please reconsider and stay with me for a few more days.”
“Thank you, but no. I’ve made up my mind.” Her stubborn tone expressed her determination. “Since the police chased the SUV, there’s been no further trouble. The chase must have frightened the person off. I think the creep at the park had no connection to the other incidences.”
“Are you certain?” He searched her pretty face. It was true there had been no further incidences except the park.
She nodded and forced a little smile. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “I need some time for all this about my birth parents to sink in.”
“Why don’t you stay home from work tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t have to be there until one. It’s our new Wednesday hours again.”
“I hope no patients show up, and Dr. Wilson will forget the whole idea.”
“Ha, ha.” She gave a fake laugh. “We’ll be very busy, I’m sure.” She wrapped her arms around his flat mid-section and rested her face on his chest. “I’ll be better off working, believe me, if I were home all day, I’d go stir crazy.” She raised her head and planted a light kiss on his lips. “Thank you for being with me at the funeral. You are a wonderful man, and I appreciate your concern. You’d better go now. You have to pick up Jon at your parents.”
Reluctantly, he agreed and squeezed her to his body. Then his lips found hers and smothered them with an unrestrained passion, and his body instantly responded. He wanted nothing more than to haul her into her bed and make love to her until she pleaded for mercy.
“Good night.” His voice was husky as he went out the door. So much for taking his father’s advice.
****
The next morning, Jean read Sara’s letter slowly and then shook her head in amazement. “Wow. It’s one thing to discover your birth mother, but to think your adoptive father was actually your birth father. It must blow your mind.”
Knowing she was lonely and heartbroken over Stu and since Jean didn’t need to be at work until three o’clock for the evening shift at the hospital, LynAnn had invited her for brunch. Their simple meal consisted of scrambled eggs and hash browns, but by the looks of her friend she hadn’t been eating.
“Pretty much,” LynAnn confessed. “I’m not sure the whole thing has soaked into my brain yet.”
“It was certainly nice of Jeff to go with you. I hate to admit it, but maybe I was wrong about him.” She paused to sip her coffee. “He certainly cares about you.”
Adore is the correct word, LynAnn thought to herself. Don’t people adore their puppy? But Jean was right, how many men would have been so thoughtful, and although she knew she could handle the funeral herself, it was comforting to have him there. “Yes, he has been wonderful to me,” she admitted.
Jean laid down her fork and studied her friend’s face. “How do you feel about him?” she asked nonchalantly and picked up her toast.
LynAnn took a bite of potatoes to avoid her question. “That’s pretty personal, don’t you think?”
But her friend wouldn’t let up. “Ah, come on. If you can’t tell me, then who can you tell?”
LynAnn began listing his good points. “He’s great company, has a great sense of humor, and, like you said, he is very thoughtful and kind. He’s good with the children, and they think the world of him. He’s easy to talk with and…”
Jean waved her hand to stop her. “I didn’t ask you for his resume. I asked how you feel about him.”
She was silent a moment before she replied, “I feel like I’ve been a burden to him, and sometimes I wonder if he’s only being so good to me because he’s too involved in all the strange events and now he doesn’t know how to get out. He asked me to stay at his house again and I refused, but he didn’t seem too upset. I think he was relieved.”
“Before he left—” Jean paused to sip her coffee. “—Stu told me Jeff was different since he’s been dating you, and I guess he must be. Perhaps he’s never met a woman quite like you. You seemed confused about your feelings, and maybe he is too.”
She had her doubts. Jeff didn’t remind her of a man who could be confused about anything. “We have sweet rolls for dessert.” She changed the subject.
After they ate, Jean helped with the dishes. “Have you heard from Stu?” LynAnn handed her a plate.
“I hadn’t seen him since the day I caught him coming from the laundry room, but he did come back while I was at work and removed all his belongings. It makes me so sad to admit our marriage is over. I still love him, but if he doesn’t feel the same way anymore there’s no sense dragging it out. I wish I knew what I did wrong.”
After drying her hands on a dish towel, LynAnn reached for her shoulders. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and you can’t blame yourself,” she admonished her.
Her friend hung her head. “I wish it were true.”
LynAnn ran her fingers through her ebony hair. “It is true, Jean. You did nothing wrong. You were a wonderful wife.”
The anguished woman lingered long after the dishes were done, and LynAnn sensed she didn’t want to be alone in the upstairs apartment she once shared with Stu. She played with Cassie and Matt and then helped get them dressed for daycare before she finally headed up the stairs.
Images of Sara and her parents swirled in LynAnn’s brain, and she was glad the children were distracted for a while.