Dear Rita,
The very day your letter arrived at Astor House (slapping me out of my self-induced lethargy and fruitless ghost hunting), something so ridiculous happened that I hesitate to write about it. But I have to tell you, because I need your level head now more than ever. I feel so awful that I rely on you so, and don’t seem to be able to give you anything in return. From chickens to love, I ask and I ask. And you always answer. Not like my silent mother at all. More like the mother I wish I’d had. It’s terrible to wish you had another. One should always be happy that they have whatever it is the Lord sees fit to provide them with. I’m just a greedy little Able Grable.
Well...guess who comes driving up to the front gates of Astor House in his blue Ford pickup? Levi. Levi looking like a movie-star tough guy ready to take on the world. His eyes were shining. He was so happy to see me.
My heart leaped and sank at the same time. I think it shaved ten years off my existence, I truly do.
And the strangest part was that I was sitting on the grand front porch steps, drinking my coffee and wearing one of my mother’s long chemise nightgowns. The children were playing on the front lawn. Even before we saw Levi open the gates and then drive up the circular drive, I was thinking about how we were sitting out in the front of the house like visitors. Strange interlopers in a strange land. The children ran to him. He scooped them both up in one movement and held them close. That’s when I realized what I’ve done. Will they run to their father like that? Have I replaced him completely with my playacting? I felt sick. And undressed. The chemise I was wearing was a pink-and-silver layered thing, chiffon and high-necked. But she was taller so I took some of her jeweled broaches and pinned up the hem, weighing down the fabric and draping it in a crazy fashion (also tearing it a bit). I knew I looked crazy. But not as crazy as I felt. Corrine Astor rose inside of me like a wild beast.
“Put them down, Levi,” I said, rising to my feet.
He put them down and they returned to me like ducklings.
“I got the telegram from the war department, Glory,” he said, clearing his throat. “And a letter from Robert, too.”
I ran down the steps then. “Give them to me!” I shouted.
He gave me the telegram.
Oh, Rita, he’s been paralyzed. My darling Robert no longer has the use of his strong, tall legs. But he’s alive. And his mind is intact. I was relieved and broken in the same moment.
When I finished reading I looked up at Levi. “Now the letter.”
“That was for me, Glory. Not for you.”
What’s that term men use when they’ve been tricked? Is it a sucker punch? Well, that’s what it felt like. A punch in my gut.
“What did he say?” I asked, holding my breath, not wanting to know the answer.
“He wrote and told me that maybe you’d made the wrong choice all those years ago at the Sadie Hawkins dance. He asked if I thought you could fall in love with me. He said you deserved a real husband.”
“And how do you feel about those words my wounded husband wrote to you, Levi?” I asked, a rage I didn’t understand beginning to clog my throat.
He cocked his head, aware that he was entering dangerous territory by the tone of my voice. Then he looked off toward the horizon and scratched his head.
“I don’t know how it makes me feel, Glory. He’s my best friend, too. All I know is he’s hurting. We have to make some decisions here...whether you like it or not,” he said.
“And what decisions are those?” I asked. I wanted to hit him, Rita. Really. Why did I want to hit him?
“We need to decide what we will tell him and when. We need to decide how we’ll welcome him home. And we need to decide if he’s...”
“What? If he’s WHAT?”
“If he’s right,” said Levi. “Right about you making a different choice. This is horrible news, Glory. But maybe there’s a light in it. Maybe we can all have what we want in the end.”
“You can’t be serious,” I said. And then, as I turned my back on him, “Get out of my sight, Levi.”
“But, Glory...”
I returned slowly to the stone steps of Astor House with Robert’s children hanging on my legs and ripping further the pink chiffon of my mother’s moldy shift. And then I dashed the shine out of Levi’s eyes by shrieking at him and making him leave. I made him go. I said horrible things.
You are right, Rita, we do need to go home. To Rockport. That’s where I will face Robert and try to repair all the damage. The question becomes, will they both forgive me? Will Robert forgive my transgressions? And how on earth will Levi ever forgive me? I won’t list all the terrible things I said but I’ll give you an example: “Lazy good for nothing leech” might have been one of them. God help me.
Love,
Glory