He sat alone in the kitchen with the light off. The lamp from the hallway provided enough illumination, casting giant shadows across the spacious white kitchen. James felt cold in his pajamas and robe, cold and alone. He had worked so hard to keep his family together, to provide for them and care for them. When had it all gone wrong? When had everything that mattered to him been leveled by deceit and lies?
He took another bite. He almost felt tears but quickly pushed them away. James Ayars did not cry. He was strong. He would remain strong and somehow save his family from the past. Thirty years ago, his wife had tried to deceive him. She had packed her lies into a snowball and let it roll down the slope, growing bigger and bigger with the years. Nothing had changed. Lies still ruled their lives. Tonight was a perfect example.
Mary. His achingly beautiful wife could charm him, seduce him, convince him to ignore or forget things that she had done. But when she lied to him, James always knew. He could always tell when she was trying to deceive him. Deep in his heart, he had known about Mary’s affair thirty years ago – even before he received oral confirmation. He had not known with whom or when or even how. But he knew.
He stood, tossed the apple core into the canister, and headed down the corridor to his study. Tonight, Mary had lied again. So had Laura. He had not interrupted a casual mother-and-daughter chat. No, their conversation went well beyond that. Laura learned something during her excursion to Chicago. When she arrived back in Boston, she immediately came here. She pressured her mother until Mary cracked.
How much had Mary told Laura?
James did not know. As little as possible, he was sure. But Mary had undoubtedly opened her mouth and let the past rush out. She had told Laura enough to threaten the very fabric of the family he so cherished.
Everything was going wrong now. The deceptions that held their lives together were coming unglued in front of his eyes. He had to do something to hold the pieces together before they blew away like tiny grains of sand.
But what? What could he do to save his family?
Whatever it takes, he thought. He reached his study and flicked on the light. His long overcoat hung on the tall brass rack Mary had given him on their anniversary last year. He loved that rack. It fit in perfectly with the polished oak bookshelves of medical textbooks, the antique globe, the Persian carpet. The study had always been the most important room in the house for James. This was where he did all his serious thinking, where he planned for life’s blows and the strategies he would use to fend them off.
He reached into the pocket of the overcoat. His hand withdrew a gun. He stared at the weapon for a moment, almost hypnotized by its power. He crossed the study, flicked off the light, and moved out the front door without looking behind him.
If he had, he may have noticed his wife standing in the shadows.
Hours passed. How many? Laura and Gloria could not say. The clock seemed to speed around like some cartoon prop. The sun started to rise. Laura kept on reading. Her eyes filled with tears. These words had been written by a Judy Simmons that Laura had never known. The author of this diary had been filled with such hope, such dreams, such youthful optimism. In many sections, Judy rambled randomly about a budding flower or a blue sky or her burning desire to be a novelist. She dreamed of living in Paris, of having a family, of spending summers in Cannes, of writing bestsellers.
Regret echoed through Laura’s heart. Judy had ended up doing none of those things. Somewhere along the way, her dreams were derailed and lost forever. When Laura reached February 16th, she learned how the derailment had begun:
February 16, 1960
I met the most handsome and charming man in the world today. He is a professor at Brinlen College and his name is Sinclair Baskin. Now I understand what books mean when they speak of unbridled passion, of heroines who would do anything to stay with their man…
Laura read parts out loud, skimmed through others. The relationship between Judy Simmons and Sinclair Baskin progressed rapidly. Judy soon learned that Sinclair Baskin was married with two children, but by then it was too late. As Judy herself admitted, love can make you more than blind; it can make you cruel and selfish. It could make you do things you never imagined:
February 24, 1960
I love him. I cannot help my feelings. Emotions are not water faucets that can be turned on and off or made warm and cold as I please. I know about his past. I know that I am not his first. But still I know that I am special to him. Most would dismiss me as terribly naive but I know the truth. I can see it in the way he looks at me…
Laura felt ensnared by Judy’s words. She was trapped in 1960 with no possible escape but to read on. Laura wanted to go back and warn Judy to stay away from Sinclair Baskin. She wanted to reach right through the pages and shake Judy to her senses.
March 18, 1960
I have never been so happy, never knew such happiness existed. Losing James has ended up being a blessing in disguise. Mary and James are happy and now I’m ecstatic! Could life be better? I doubt it. I am so filled with feelings of love that I am sure I will burst. I want to shout from the top of tall buildings, ‘I love you, Sinclair!’ He has started talking about divorce even though the idea of hurting his two sons is tearing him apart. Stan is only ten years old. David just a few months. But we are meant to be together and soon we will be. I must have patience…
More love notes followed. Pages and pages of sonnets that brought tears to Laura’s eyes. She read about the softball game where the photograph had been taken, about walks in the day and lovemaking in the night. The diary was like some bizarre novel whose characters were all too real. Laura watched Judy merrily skip down a path filled with hidden mines. She called out a warning, but Judy would not hear her. Right now it was March of 1960. Young Judy cared not for what was to come. The world was bright and sunny and no one could tell her otherwise. Laura wanted to lock her in, to somehow suspend her aunt’s memory in March of 1960. But the diary had to move on. When Laura turned the page, it was April. March of 1960 was gone forever.
April 3, 1960
We’re going to visit my family today. I don’t expect them to be thrilled for me. I doubt they will understand. But how can they deny the glow in my face? How can they be upset when they see how happy we are? They will have to accept us. They will want to accept us. Of course, my parents are going to be upset about his being married, but love conquers all, right? I’ll let you know how it goes when we get back.
Later. Something changed today, I don’t know what. Everything went well with my family – as well as could be expected. My parents were upset but managed to remain fairly polite. Mary got along very nicely with Sinclair as did James. In truth, my family reacted just as I suspected they would. So why this dark feeling inside? It’s Sinclair. He was different today. Oh, he still looked at me with love. He still kissed me good night and told me that he loved me. But something was… off. He was distracted, not completely there. Of course that’s understandable. Today was a stressful day for him too. But still, there was something wrong. Something in the air…
‘Listen to that something,’ Laura said out loud, calling through time itself to patch wounds that still bled. ‘Get away from him.’
‘She was young,’ Gloria said. ‘She was in love.’
‘He was a married man, Gloria.’