Fallen Stones (42 page)

Stephanie got comfort from knowing her side of the tree was finally completed and Jason's side was on the way to being finished as well. She knew he was starting to lose patience with her and the amount of time she was putting into her project but it had become very important to her. Perhaps she would agree that she might have been a bit out of sorts at times and may be even somewhat scatterbrained, but it was only because she had been so intently focused on completing her work. Jason simply had to learn to understand that. And besides, Jason had no right to complain since she tolerated his absence all summer long, while he was busy settling into his new job.

One might argue that Jason's work brought in an income whereas hers was just a research project, a hobby of sorts. But she knew it was much more than that. It was her family, and it was her family history. And it had been her relative who had died and left them the inheritance, so in Stephanie's mind her work was equally as valuable as Jason's if not more so. Besides, she was not just working on her own lineage, but Jason's as well. And since her family tree was complete, she was now trying to find the final frustrating piece of his side of the family. She was sure when he saw the completed work he would be very happy and would better understand why she had such a desperate need to finish it.

She moved her view over to Jason's side of the family tree and starting with Jeremy's birth, traveled back through Jason's first marriage and then continued to work backward in time.

 

Jeremy John Wright born October 21, 1999

Jason John Wright married

Sarah Cynthia Jones June 4, 1996

Couple divorced April 13, 2006

Jason John Wright born May 22, 1974

Cheryl Elizabeth Wright born July 25, 1976

died July 25, 1986

 

There were several other strange coincidences. Sarah Jones Wright, Jason's first wife, had the middle name Cynthia and Stephanie had named her own daughter Cynthia. His ex also had the first name Sarah, which was Stephanie's grandmother's first name. Perhaps this coincidence was just another random happenstance and didn't really possess any particular significance whatsoever, but she couldn't help but make note of it.

Then Stephanie thought for a moment about Jason's sister Cheryl. She died when Jason was just twelve years old and she was ten. She apparently had some rare form of bone cancer and fought the valiant fight for several years until finally succumbing to the disease on her tenth birthday. Then she thought of another coincidence, it was her friend, whose name was also Cheryl who helped she and Jason get together. Jason often talked about his sister and recounted many fond memories for Cindy and Jeremy. He tried to stress the importance of family and having siblings. This was especially important in the blended family situation they had created. She followed the tree back further.

 

Edmund Walter Wright born September 8, 1946

died January 3, 2005

Married to Linda Celia Jensen born March 15, 1947

died February 26, 2007

 

From discussions with Jason after they h
ad met, Stephanie learned that his father, Edmund, had died the year before Jason and Sarah were divorced. He had a massive heart attack at home and was gone before the ambulance arrived. Jason had been visiting at the time and had seen everything. It was quite traumatic for him and the stress probably did little to help them deal with their troubled marriage. His mother had been suffering with dementia prior to his father's passing and had to be placed in an assisted living facility where she eventually simply faded and died, lost in that incomprehensible world of confusion the disease often brings with it.

Stephanie followed the family tree back to the last few entries she had been able to locate for Jason's family.

 

Walter Stephen Wright born November 29, 1919

died April 11, 1973

Married on June 21, 1944 to Elizabeth Jane Jefferson

born May 22, 1921, died July 2, 1982  

 

This is where Stephanie had hit a dead end. She could find nothing more about the Wright side of the family. She found no information on Walter Wright's parents whatsoever. She suspected his father might have been an immigrant and perhaps had a completely different name upon his arrival. He might have taken the name Wright upon landing in the United States to make him sound more American, as so many immigrants did in those days. She could only guess, as there were literally no records and no information about him whatsoever.

She had a little bit more luck with the grandmother, Elizabeth Jane Jefferson in that she was able to identify Elizabeth's mother, but was unable to identify her father.

 

Agatha Jane Jefferson born August 3, 1897, died 19??

 

 That was pretty much the end of it. She had no idea when Agatha died, who her husband was, if she had one. Stephanie suspected Jefferson might be her married name as the concept of having children out of wedlock in that day and age was virtually unheard of. But if there was a Mr. Jefferson, there was not a trace of it recorded anywhere.  

Stephanie looked across the room and saw Sammy sitting slack-jawed staring at the television, a steady stream of drool dripping from his lip. She could smell the foul stench of his soiled diaper. She suspected the boy might end up with a severe rash if she didn't tend to him soon. She knew she should go to him, she knew she was doing her son a great disservice by ignoring him, but she also knew she was almost finished with her work. She was so close. She just needed to find out the final piece of the puzzle.

The problem was, she had been through every single bit of information in the box from the investigator, Malone, and had exhausted all of her Internet resources as well, yet the death of the Livingston family members remained a mystery, as did the identity of Jason's great-grandfather. She knew she could not rest until she solved this final part of the story.

Stephanie looked one last time into the empty box. She had no idea what prompted her to do so. It was one of those strange feeling she sometimes had, an obsessive compulsive type of situation, which suggested if she just looked one more time maybe there just might be something she missed; the final piece to her puzzle. She knew it was an exercise in futility as the box had been empty when she checked only a few moments earlier. But she could not stop herself from looking inside the box one last time nonetheless.

However, instead of seeing an empty box, she found an old, tattered yellowed envelope lying in the bottom. She could not believe her eyes. Stephanie was certain the box had been empty, yet there it was. She reached down into the box and withdrew the envelope, hoping against hope to find the final answer. She found much more than she had bargained for.

 

Chapter 29

 

Stephanie sat staring at the strange envelope she held in her quaking hands. Where had it come from? She was certain it hadn't been in the box previously. She was reminded of that day almost half a year ago when she held another envelope in similar shaking hands; the day she received notice of her inheritance.  But somehow, she knew the information in this envelope was not going to be a letter notifying her of impending good fortune but would be one leading to nothing but tragedy and sorrow.  Still, she had to open the envelope. She had to know what was inside.

The envelope was actually a brand new manila envelope; the same type she had been using to catalog her discoveries since the start of the project. She had personally purchased the box of envelopes at a local stationary supply store. But none of that prior knowledge seemed to matter to Stephanie. Because when she looked at the envelope, it appeared to her to be old, yellowed and tattered, as if to suggest it might have come directly from one of her ancestors. And in a true and very horrifying sense, it actually had. That is to say, the illusion of the aged envelope had been planted in her mind. The entities inhabiting her home and controlling her thoughts needed her to finish the story and wanted her to discover the horrible truth. Stephanie had to believe she was finding this secret for herself in order for the evil creatures to complete the final portion of their unholy scheme.

Stephanie slowly slid open the top flap of what she saw as a brittle envelope, carefully and gingerly folding it backward in order to withdraw its contents. What she found was a letter, several pages long, which appeared to be written in longhand in an elaborate calligraphic style. Like the envelope, the paper appeared to be an ancient and fragile type of yellowed stationary stock, likely expensive in its time and was personalized with a watermark in the shape of a stylized "L", which she assumed, must stand for Livingston.

As Stephanie stared down at what was actually several blank sheets of modern typing paper, she began to read the contents of the mysterious ancient document; written in words only she could see.

 

From the personal journal of Marie Louise O'Hara Livingston Nov. 16, 1922.

 

Stephanie was caught off guard for a moment. "Today's date is November 16, 2012," she said aloud in amazement. "It is exactly ninety years to the day, from when this entry was made." Her heart thudded with both anxious anticipation as well as an unexplainable sense of impending dread. She nonetheless read on, driven by a thirst for knowledge, which demanded to be quenched.

 

Dwight must think me some sort of fool. He believes I am unaware of what he had been doing behind my back, and with whom. While I stay at home raising his three children, he is out gallivanting with his whore; that immoral sow, that depraved vixen who goes by the name of Agatha Jefferson.

 

Stephanie was stopped in her tracks. That name, Agatha Jefferson. Stephanie suddenly realized where she had seen that name before. She went back to her computer screen and reexamined Jason's side of the family tree. Her stomach sank with revulsion. She was right. She wished to God she was mistaken but she was correct. Agatha Jane Jefferson had been the name of Jason's great-grandmother, the one for whom she could not locate a husband. Could this be the same Agatha Jefferson that Marie Livingston had written about? She didn't like the direction this letter was heading; no, not in the slightest. Her stomach felt as if it might heave at any moment.

 

He claims to be working late, to be busy conducting his business dealings far into the evening, but I am no fool. I know better. The Devil's business is what he is up to I say. Spreading his demon seed about the county with his harlot is the only business in which he participates. Sharing a bed with that jezebel. That is his supposed important business.

 

"Oh my God!" Stephanie said aloud in bewildered amazement. "What in the world was going on? Was Jason's great-grandmother sleeping with my great-grandfather? Is that what Marie is saying? Could that have actually been possible?"

Stephanie suddenly recalled how the lawyer. Mason Armstrong had mentioned, since both sides of their family had been from Schuylkill County there might be a chance they were distantly related several generations back. She thought he was just trying to be funny or clever, but perhaps he had unknowingly been right. Or maybe he had seen the letter she now held in her hands and he had known about everything. She was uncharacteristically grateful the lawyer was now dead. She knew how terrible such a thought was for her to have, but at least she wouldn't have to face him in her shame.

She never counted on discovering something as unsavory as an extramarital love affair, let alone a love triangle involving ancestors from both sides of their families. She hadn't believed such things happened back in the early 1900's. But then she realized such types of illicit relationships were going on since the dawn of time.  Although disgusted by what she read, she was driven to learn more. She looked down at the blank paper and continued to read the message Marie Livingston wanted her to read.

 

But I am not the fool Dwight makes me out to be. I have heard the women in the marketplace speaking in hushed whispers as I walk by. They all laugh at me behind my back. They enjoy my pain because we are wealthy and they are but the wives of poor coal miners. They seem to take pleasure from what has happened as if it somehow brings me down to their low social level. I have overheard snippets of their conversations... bits and pieces... enough for me to be able to piece together the sordid mess. I have found out about her, Agatha, about what she has been doing with my husband... and about their bastard daughter as well.

 

"Bastard daughter?" Stephanie exclaimed. This story was getting worse by the minute. Now she wondered if the daughter about whom Marie was speaking was some other daughter or could it actually have been Elizabeth Jane Jefferson, Jason's grandmother. Could her grandmother, who had survived the Livingston tragedy and Jason's grandmother have been half-sisters? It seemed impossible, or at least it was impossible for Stephanie to comprehend.

 

Oh yes. I have learned the horrible truth and I would be dishonest if I didn't say that the knowledge has vexed me to the point where I am struggling with my own sanity. Each day that I am forced to reside in this house with that ungodly fornicator, knowing that his illegitimate offspring lives in town, just a few miles away, knowing that others in the community have been aware of his indiscretions and are ridiculing me behind my back, the more I feel myself losing touch with reality. And why would that seem so strange? Why should I want to try to live a normal life, bearing the burden of this knowledge? Why should I not just let my mind go? Why not just stop fighting this inevitable creeping madness? I suppose should speak to someone. Maybe I could talk to our minister, but what in the world would I say to him? After all, he too is a man. He would most certainly side with Dwight and blame me for not providing for my husband's manly needs. Oh dear God, I am beside myself with anguish.

 

Stephanie's eyes welled up with tears. The language Marie used in her journal was so heartfelt and so incredibly painful to read, that she felt as if she, Stephanie, were feeling the very same pain and sorrow Marie had endured. Stephanie suddenly was reminded of how several months earlier Jason had been working so many late nights and she had briefly wondered whether or not he might have been having an affair; perhaps with someone at work. Although she had put the idea all but completely out of her mind, she now recalled the pain she felt in the pit of her stomach at the very thought of him cheating on her. Had it been true, she might have suffered with the exact same feelings Marie expressed in her letter.