Chapter Twelve

Peter Pierce scheduled Linda’s story for the second Saturday night in May. Since it was the night before Mother’s Day, Violet considered it an appropriate time for the telecast. Feeling that it might be a traumatic time for her, she invited Pastor Tom to come to her home and watch the program with her and Roger.

But the situation was handled with diplomacy and tact. Ryan Conley was portrayed as a man with a troubled mind, rather than a sadistic husband. Linda was depicted as a woman driven to murder when her husband had threatened their child. It was difficult to hear the tragic story of her parents’ marriage, but as they watched Roger sat with his strong arm around her shoulders, and with his other hand, he caressed her tense fingers.

When the program ended, Violet clicked the remote control. The three of them sat in silence for several minutes.

“Violet, you should be commended for allowing the revelation of this tragedy that took your parents away from you,” Pastor Tom said. “It couldn’t have been an easy decision to allow your parents’ problems to be broadcast to the world, but it certainly vindicated Linda’s action, while at the same time leniently portraying your father as a man with psychological problems rather than as a mean-spirited person.”

“Yes, he must have been mentally unbalanced,” Roger said. “No sane man would behave in such a manner.”

“Of course, Mr. O’Brien is prejudiced against my grandfather, but he said that my parents were happy the first years of their marriage, and that the trouble started when they moved back to Kansas City and my grandfather tightened his hold on my father.”

“Quite likely,” Pastor Tom agreed. He smiled. “I hope you can put the past behind you now.”

“I intend to. We’re getting married soon, and I want to concentrate on that now.”

“You are two people who should need little marriage counseling, but I’ll want a session with you as with all others I marry, so be sure to schedule a few hours for that.”

After the pastor left, Roger said, “I’ve talked with Jason and Misty, and both of them are agreeable to selling our home to move into a different house. My house is paid for, and you have some equity built up in yours, so we should have a good sum to buy another house when we pool our resources.”

Violet nodded. “Can we afford one of the new houses in that subdivision north of town? They seem spacious, but we’ll need a large house because we’re starting out with a family of four.”

“Let’s look at them tomorrow afternoon. I noticed in the newspaper that an open house is scheduled, and a few of the houses are ready for immediate occupancy.”

“Good idea. We should take Jason and Misty along. We don’t want them to feel left out.”

The next day, the four of them ate at a buffet restaurant at noon, and were on hand when the houses at Colonial Acres opened to the public at two o’clock. The colonial-style houses were being built on one-acre lots, and three were completed and ready for viewing. It was the last house they checked out that pleased all of them.

The dwelling was a modified two-story Dutch colonial with cream-colored siding and brown shingled roof. The first floor had a large family room, kitchen, dining area and a living room that ran the width of the house. A utility room and lavatory occupied an area near the garage entry. Three bedrooms and two baths were on the second floor, and a studio loft and a smaller room, designated as a sewing area, were located over the garage.

Jason immediately preempted the studio for his bedroom.

“But there’s no bathroom up here, Jason,” Misty said.

“No trouble for Dad and me to install a small bathroom when I return from Europe. The few days I’m here before then, I can use that small one downstairs. Okay, Dad?”

Roger looked at Violet, and she nodded. “That should work out great, leaving one bedroom for guests when your family comes to visit, Roger, or when Aunt Ruth is here.”

“Or, for a nursery when the time comes,” Roger added with a smile. Violet had thought the same, but didn’t want to say it aloud.

The master bedroom with its large bath and walk-in closet was spacious enough for Roger and Violet, and Misty liked the larger of the other two rooms. After their inspection of the house, the four of them sat on the carpeted floor of the living room to discuss their options.

“I suppose we should consider the most important question, Dad,” Jason said. “Can we afford a house like this?” His statement pleased Violet—mature thinking for a nineteen-year-old. Roger had done his work well.

“Not if I had to pay for it alone,” he said, “but with Violet working, we should be able to swing it. It depends somewhat on how much we can get for our two houses. If the cost is so great that I can’t afford to send you to college, then we’ll stay where we are.”

“I fully intend to work and pay for most of my own college expenses,” Jason said, “that way you’ll only have Misty to support. After I take this trip through Europe, I want to work for a year if you approve. It may take several years to graduate, but if I finance my own education, I’ll appreciate it more.”

“Of course, you have the trust fund we set up with your mother’s insurance that will be an income for both of you when you’re each twenty-one. That will help quite a lot.” Roger turned to Violet. “What’s your opinion?”

“I like the house, and we shouldn’t have to buy any furniture when we combine what we have in both houses. My vote is to purchase.”

“I’m agreeable, too,” Roger said. “Misty, we’ve heard from everyone except you.”

“Can we be moved in before the wedding?” she asked.

“That depends on the contractor and how fast our houses sell. Six weeks should give us time.”

“I would like to move my bedroom before the wedding, and since Jason is leaving the next day for Europe, he should move his things, too.” She dropped her head. “You see, Dad, I want to go back with Grandma to spend the summer in Arizona, if you will let me. Now don’t get me wrong, for I want you to marry Miss Conley, but I would rather be gone the first few weeks when you’re…getting used to one another.”

Her face flushed, and Roger and Violet exchanged an understanding smile.

“I’ve already asked Grandma, and she said it would be fine if you’ll permit it. She agrees that it would be better for the two of you to be alone this summer.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Misty,” Violet said, “although I hadn’t thought of such a thing. I don’t want either of you to ever feel that I don’t want you in the house.”

“We don’t feel that way,” Jason assured her. “As soon as the two of you say, ‘I do,’ I’m going to start calling you Mother,” Jason said. “I’ll think of you like that while I’m gone, and it will be natural for me when we’re together as a family again. Our first mother was ‘Mama’ to us.”

Roger clasped his arm around Jason in an affectionate gesture. “By all means, Misty, go with your grandmother for the summer. It’s considerate of you to give Violet and me some space. It was her idea to bring the two of you along to view this house and help make a decision, so she wants you around, and I wouldn’t marry anyone who wasn’t willing to share my kids—you know that. I love Violet very much, but that doesn’t lessen my love for you, nor will it change our feelings for you if we have more children, as we expect to.”

Before they left the house, the four of them huddled together in a mutual embrace as Roger prayed. “Lord, we remember the words from the Bible, ‘Every…house divided against itself shall not stand, and Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain.’ I can’t find the words to tell you how grateful I am that you’ve given me two such understanding children and Violet, who not only is possessed of a heart big enough for me, but is willing to accept Misty and Jason as well. The day when their mother died, the three of us thought we could never find happiness again, but in your wisdom, you’ve brought Violet into our lives. Thank you, God. We praise you with our lips and our lives. Amen.”

All four of them cried, hugged and kissed in a moment that would prove as sacred as the marriage ceremony. Their wedding day would serve to confirm the pledges they made here today, for it was fitting that in this building that would become their home, they had become a family.

 

The next month passed in a flurry of activities that kept Violet and Roger so busy that they had little time to be alone. The Realtor from whom they bought the new house worked out a package deal—if he couldn’t sell their two houses by the time they wanted to move, he would take them as a payment on their new home. While Violet was busy the first two weeks of June with school-closing activities, Roger and his children moved into the new house and started living there. Violet wouldn’t move her furniture until after they were married. When Aunt Ruth arrived for the wedding, she would stay with Violet in her old home.

After many hours of soul-searching, Violet asked Larry for an appointment during her prep period. The two of them sat in painful silence for several minutes.

Taking a deep breath, Violet said, “I’ve decided to apply for a transfer to Maitland Middle School when the school year starts in September.”

Larry nervously snapped the top of the ballpoint pen he held and kept his eyes on the desk pad before him.

“You’re a good teacher, Violet—I’ll hate to lose you.”

“Then if my work has been satisfactory, I hope that you will give me a good recommendation and not hinder the transfer.”

He looked at her in amazement. “What makes you think I would do anything as petty as that? Have I ever treated you unfairly?”

Perhaps the Hollands were above revenge and not vindictive as she and Roger had feared. “Not professionally, no, and I apologize for that inference. I have always liked teaching here, but the situation has been a bit strained during this semester, and for the good of both of us, I believe I should leave. Also, it might be intimidating for Misty to have a stepmother on the staff.”

“You can be assured that I will do anything in my power to grant your wishes,” Larry said genially.

Violet stood to conclude the interview. “Larry, I don’t know if I should say this, but I remember fondly the times we had together. We were good friends, but I’m sure that both of us are better off that the relationship didn’t go any further.”

“You may be right, although right now, I can’t see that. I’m fond of you, Violet, but apparently it wasn’t meant to be. I hope that you will be happy.”

Violet wiped unshed tears from her eyes as she left the room.

 

Violet and Misty, who was going to be maid of honor, went to Saint Louis one Saturday to shop for wedding clothes. Since she couldn’t have her mother with her for the wedding, Violet decided to use some of the money she had inherited from Linda to buy her dress, for she wanted to feel that her mother had a part in the wedding. They went to an exclusive shop, and she chose a venise lace empire cage dress with allover embroidered illusion sleeves and chapel train topping a satin gown. The matching shoulder-length veil was attached to a small crown of pearls. Violet knew she didn’t have any jewelry worthy of such a gown, but after the expense of the dress, veil, and white satin shoes, she wasn’t going to buy jewelry. Actually, the dress didn’t need any ornamentation, and her pearl earrings would suffice.

For Misty they chose a pink sleeveless rosette-back organza A-line with a matching organza wrap, which set off her blond features.

 

The open church informal wedding was to be held at six o’clock with a reception following in the church’s fellowship room for all the guests. At her insistence, Aunt Ruth would assume the cost of the reception, and they planned for two hundred guests.

Roger was spending all of his free time in moving, but after Violet’s school year ended, he dropped in occasionally on his noon hour, and they lunched together.

One day, he said, “I’ve neglected to talk with you about a honeymoon. Is there any place in particular you would like to go?”

“I didn’t suppose we could afford to go away, so I hadn’t given it any thought.”

“I’d like for us to be alone for a while.”

“Of course we’ll be alone all summer after the children leave.” Violet thought for a few minutes. “Why don’t we go out to your farm for a couple of days? We could have all the privacy we want there.”

“Say,” Roger said, and his eyes lighted into a smile, “I would like that.”

 

Aunt Ruth arrived the day before the wedding. Not concerned about it being “bad luck” to see the groom on the day of the wedding, Violet invited Roger to have breakfast with her and Ruth.

They had just finished their scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and juice when the doorbell rang. Still holding a teacup in her hand, Violet went to the front door and opened it to—Josiah B. Conley. His limousine was parked in front of the house.

They stared at one another for a few seconds before Violet unlatched the screen door and motioned her grandfather to enter. He carried a large case.

“Would you like some breakfast?” she said. She indicated the dining area. “We had just finished.”

“No, thank you. I’ve eaten.”

Motioning for Ruth and Roger to join them, she asked her grandfather to be seated.

“You’ve met Roger,” she said, “But this is my aunt, Ruth Reed—she’s the one who gave me a home and reared me.”

Josiah gave Ruth an appraising glance. “Then I must commend her for doing the task well.”

Ruth acknowledged the compliment with a nod. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable in his company.

Violet took Roger’s hand so that he would sit beside her on the couch. She was amazed at how much calmer she felt in her grandfather’s presence than she had when he had been here before. He couldn’t intimidate her anymore. This time tomorrow she would be Mrs. Roger Gibson, and she considered that a highly potent buffer against intimidation.

“Well, Violet,” Josiah said. “I’ve taken you at your word. I’ve made my brother’s son my heir. He’s worked at Midwest Enterprises for several years, so he already knows much about the business, and by the time I die, he should be well qualified to handle my estate as I want it done. He already has three sons, so the family operation should be ensured for many years to come.”

Violet smiled warmly. “I’m very pleased about that. I didn’t enjoy refusing you, but the Conley dynasty held no fascination for me. I’m used to a simpler life. I would have been unhappy.”

Josiah sighed. “As I’ve told you before, you remind me of my Rachel, and I would have liked you in my home. But,” he added with a wry smile, “she was meek most of the time, though occasionally she refused me, too, and did what she wanted to do.” A softer light came into his eyes as he reflected on the wife he had loved, and he took an envelope from the inside pocket of his coat. “I didn’t know I had a conscience,” he said, “but I apparently do, because I will no longer withhold from you this letter discovered in Rachel’s possessions after her death.”

He handed Rachel the business-size envelope labeled, “To my granddaughter, Violet.” As she stared at the envelope with wondering eyes, Josiah lifted a large jewelry chest from the case he carried—it was the one Violet had seen at his home in Kansas City. “You were also mentioned in her will. Rachel wanted you to have her jewelry.”

Josiah opened the chest, and placed it on the coffee table. Sunlight coming through the window sparkled brightly on a vast display of diamonds, rubies, gold and silver jewelry. Violet picked up the ornate necklace that she had worn to the reception in the Conley mansion. Noting that Violet was speechless, Josiah said, “Perhaps you will have a daughter to inherit these some day. Many of these items have been in Rachel’s family since the War Between the States.”

“My life-style doesn’t call for jewelry of this magnitude, but I can assure you that I will cherish the gift and keep it for the next generation.” She took a letter opener from the table and slit the seal on the envelope, holding the letter so that Roger could see the message as she read silently.

At the bottom of the letter was the name of a bank in Saint Louis and an account number. The trust fund was in the name of Violet Conley, with Rachel Conley as trustee until her death.

“Do you know what the letter says?” Violet asked her grandfather.

“I haven’t stooped to reading other people’s letters,” he said tersely.

Violet handed him the letter, and although his face remained impassive as he read, when he finished, he had to clear his throat several times before he spoke.

“I suspected something of the sort because when we settled her estate, a great deal of money was gone, but it was her money and she had the right to do what she wanted with it.”

Roger and Ruth sat without speaking, but Roger laid his hand on Violet’s shoulder.

“Do you know the size of this trust fund?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” Josiah said, “but it won’t be difficult for you to find out by calling the bank and giving that account number. I would judge there could be upward of a quarter of a million dollars.”

Violet gasped. “It seems I’m bound to have money thrust upon me whether I want it or not.” She looked at Roger. “What should I do?”

“Whatever you want, but if you’re thinking this bequest will make any difference in our relationship, it won’t. Since this is a trust fund, I imagine you’ll find out that it’s one that passes from one generation to another, and you will receive the interest rather than the capital itself. Admittedly, even that will make our lives a lot easier, but not a large enough amount to intimidate me.” He looked at Josiah, who nodded.

“I’m sure that is the case—Rachel had a good head on her shoulders, and she had no idea how Violet would turn out. It’s doubtful that she would have handed the money to her carte blanche.”

“It seems I’m destined to have a rich wife, no matter how hard I’ve fought it,” Roger said, and he playfully ruffled Violet’s short hair. “You’ve turned down two fortunes to marry me, but I remember the old cliché, ‘The third time is the charm.’ I believe you’re justified in accepting this one.”

Josiah lifted his shaggy eyebrows. “Two fortunes?”

“Besides what she would have gained as your heir, she could have had Larry Holland for a husband.”

“Oh,” Josiah said, looking at Violet with what she considered added respect.

“Well, I can’t be worried about that now,” Violet said. “I’m getting married in a few hours, and money is my least concern.”

Josiah rose. “Then I’ve discharged my duty, so I’ll leave now.”

Hesitantly, Violet said, “Would you like to stay for the wedding? You are welcome.”

“I had hoped you would ask. I’ll be happy to attend.”

“And I’ll be happy to have you there. Aunt Ruth is the only other relative I have. Six o’clock at First Community Church.”

With tender eyes, Violet watched Josiah walk toward his car. “It seems that I won’t be able to forget the Conleys, after all,” Violet said.

“Who would want to forget a grandmother like her?” Roger responded, as he tapped the letter Violet held. “I believe you inherited more of her characteristics than just the physical features. She must have had a great heart.”

“This recognition erases all of the feelings of rejection I had in my childhood. I was loved more than I knew. And I’ll admit that I am relieved not to have constraint between my grandfather and me. Regardless of what he did to my mother, I’ve forgiven him—it’s unchristian to do otherwise. I hope this works out all right.”

Roger drew her close. “I believe that Josiah is convinced that you will not give in to his demands and that he respects you for it.” He smiled and said teasingly, “I believe you inherited a little of Josiah’s stubbornness, too. And as far as I’m concerned, there’s no need for you to be estranged from him.”

 

As Violet and Misty waited in the church office for the processional to begin, the soloist’s rendition of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s You’ll Never Walk Alone wafted into the room.

The soloist sung of the dark days that would come into each life, but in spite of storms, rain or dashed dreams, the lyrics gave assurance that one need never walk alone.

Violet knew about storms all right—for the past several months it seemed as if she weathered one storm only to be struck by another one, but even in the midst of her most discouraging moments, she hadn’t given up hope. She had relied often on a passage from the book of Hebrews, “Hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast.”

What a sense of security! Hand in hand with Roger, and both of them holding God’s hand, she would never walk alone.

The song ended, and Misty prepared to enter the sanctuary. Violet went to her, straightened the white rose corsage on her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. Tears glistened in Misty’s eyes. “It will be nice to have a mother again. Please make my daddy happy,” she whispered.

“I’ll do my best, Misty,” Violet vowed. “I love him very much.”

When Misty stepped out into the hallway, Violet took one last look in the mirror and adjusted Rachel’s diamond-and-ruby necklace. The long pendant earrings dangled almost to her shoulders. The jewelry set off her gown to perfection, and today she appreciated this link to her paternal heritage—clouded though it was, she could no longer deny her Conley lineage. Besides, she knew Josiah would be pleased if she wore Rachel’s jewels.

Instead of the traditional wedding march, Violet had asked the organist to play the hymn, “Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us,” as she walked down the aisle—alone. She had never been more conscious of her lack of parents than she was now. A woman should have her mother and father on her wedding day. Perhaps if she had known ahead of time that her grandfather would be there, she might have asked him to give her away, but that could have been too memorable of the time when he rejected her when she was a child. Stop it! she mentally chided herself. No morbid thoughts today.

As she walked slowly, the delicate train flowing behind her, Violet looked forward and saw her new family waiting expectantly. Standing proudly by his father, Jason was as handsome as Roger. Misty smiled invitingly, and Violet didn’t feel any older than this girl who would soon be her daughter. When they had posed for a family portrait prior to the ceremony, Roger had joked, “People will accuse me of taking another daughter rather than a wife. But having so many children around should restore my youthful vigor.”

“As if you have ever lost any,” Jason reprimanded his father. “Get serious, Dad.”

The aisle looked long, but she knew that when the recessional was played, the aisle would seem short because Roger would walk by her side—she would never be alone again. Their glances held as she walked the few remaining steps. Roger’s hand was trembling when he reached for hers, and she gave him a tremulous smile.

Pastor Tom’s service was brief, and it seemed a very short time until they were kneeling, hand in hand, listening to the soloist sing “The Lord’s Prayer.”

Beneath the words of the soloist, Roger prayed quietly, “Lord, we love each other, but we love you more. We will need your daily guidance to be loving, considerate spouses and good parents. We praise you for bringing us together.”

Violet echoed his “Amen,” as the soloist finished the song.

The two-hundred-seat sanctuary was filled to capacity, Violet noted as they started down the aisle as man and wife. Janie sat between Clifford and Alta Skeen, all of them smiling, not only for Violet’s gladness, but for their own happiness of becoming a family. Josiah sat on the rear seat, and he nodded approvingly as they passed him.

During the reception when Josiah reached the wedding party, he leaned over to kiss Violet’s cheek. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Today has taken me back fifty years,” he said. “You are so much like my Rachel. She was beautiful on our wedding day.” He gently placed a hand on the diamond choker. “Thanks for wearing that. You wouldn’t have known, but Rachel also wore it at our wedding.”

Josiah turned to Roger. “You’ve made a fine choice. She looks like her grandmother, and if she has my Rachel’s spirit, she will make a wonderful wife.”

“I’ll care for her as if she were a rare treasure, and she is one to me,” Roger said as he returned Josiah’s handclasp.

“I have to leave now for I must be back in Kansas City tonight, but you do have my best wishes. I hope you will not cut me off completely, and that I can contact you occasionally.”

Violet looked at Roger, and he responded, “We’re moving into a new home in the Colonial Acres subdivision, and you’ll be welcome to visit us at anytime.”

As they watched Josiah’s departure, Violet whispered, “In case I’ve forgotten to mention it today, I love you very much, Roger.”

“I rather suspected that, but thanks for telling me anyway.”

Once all the guests had passed the receiving line, Violet and Roger went through the ritualistic cutting of the cake, feeding each other a choice bit, and drinking punch arm in arm. When they approached the heavily laden gift table, Ruth intercepted them. She handed Violet an envelope. “Your grandfather left this for you.”

Violet pulled a $5,000 check out of the envelope. She sighed and handed it to Roger. “What are we going to do with him? I’ve made it plain that we don’t want his money.”

“Keep it,” Roger said. “I figure we will make better use of it than he will. I’ll just have to swallow my pride. It isn’t your fault you were born a Conley. We’ve won most of the battles with him, so we’ll have to call a compromise on this one.”

“I’d like to do something special with the money. You mentioned once that you’d like to take a tour of the Holy Land. How far would this go toward a tour like that?”

“Probably far enough that we could swing the rest of it ourselves. I like that idea. Before the summer is out, maybe we can have a honeymoon after all.”

After they opened the rest of their gifts, and while their guests were enjoying cake and punch, Roger winked at Violet, and they dodged out the side door of the reception hall. They had acquainted Aunt Ruth and Roger’s mother with their wish to leave early, asking them to entertain the guests, and the hospitality committee of the church would take care of any necessary housekeeping activities. No one was watching as Roger opened the door of the pickup and helped Violet enter. Just as they pulled away from the curb, Jason and one of his friends came around the side of the church with tin cans and tubes of shaving cream in their hands.

“Hey,” Jason shouted. “That’s not fair.”

Roger tooted the horn, and Violet waved and laughed at them as they sped down the street.

They hadn’t told anyone of their destination, simply that they would be back on the morning of the second day to take his family to the airport—Jason off on his European tour and Misty and her grandmother to Arizona. Roger had taken their clothing to the farm several days ago, so no packing had been necessary.

“Well, Mrs. Gibson,” Roger said, “why are you so quiet? Not having second thoughts, are you?”

“I was thinking of the first day you brought me to the farm, and of all the events that have transpired since then. What a difference a few months have made! Then, I didn’t have a clue that you loved me. I was estranged from all of my family except Aunt Ruth, and I had an unforgiving spirit toward them. Loving you, and having you return my love, is the most wonderful thing that has happened to me. I’ve felt alone all my life, and now I not only have you, but you gave me a family as well.”

“You’ve brought happiness into my life, too, and I’m looking forward to our future together.”

When Roger parked in front of the small farmhouse, he said, “There’s one Scripture that I wish Pastor Tom would have included in the service. Do you remember the words of Ruth in the Old Testament that are often quoted at weddings? Perhaps we could say them together as the epitome of our mutual commitment.” They clasped hands and locked glances as they made the binding promise.

Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.