Our Heart (43 page)

He could tell by the look in my eyes I wasn’t necessarily on the same wave link as he was. He had spent much thought in trying to say what he said in a way he thought I’d understand. At last he said, with a genuine smile, “Jason, you have accomplished something that speaks directly to the heart of this family, and I appreciate it more than I will ever be able to express to you. It is better than good; it is my favorite warm blanket on a wintry day good.” As my grandpa extended his arms to hug me, I could see over his shoulder my grandma, with her head down, and I struggled to come to terms with their reactions. It wouldn’t be until my grandma finally spoke to me nearly a week later that I would slowly begin to understand.

Chapter 22

The next morning was Easter Sunday, and I headed out to church with my grandparents. Allison would be home later that night. It had been a difficult week in one way; I hadn’t been able to speak to Allison, and I was missing her. The work on the tree had temporarily filled the void, but now that I was done, I could feel her absence within and around me. It was hard to concentrate on what the minister had to preach, and I found my thoughts wandering to our homecoming later tonight. After church, we headed back home so Grandma could prepare her traditional baked ham and sweet potatoes. I know Grandpa was happy because it meant ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch and scrambled eggs and ham for breakfast, for the next week or so, and that put him in hog heaven.

I have never been a good liar, and I was worried how I would answer Allison when she asked what I’d been up to the whole time she was gone. I wanted to wait until after the prom to show Allison the heart on the tree and didn’t know how to wrangle out of any questions she might ask. I didn’t want to look deceitful and suspicious, either. I stewed about it most of the afternoon and, by dusk, I was making a new track in the floor between the living room and the kitchen. I would venture
to the front window so I could peer out to see if the Dittmer’s car was parked out front in their driveway. By nine o’clock, I was a bundle of nervous energy, and my grandma finally had had enough, sending me outside to bug the insects instead of her. I took a walk up and down the sidewalk, never getting out of sight of Allison’s driveway. It only marginally helped. It was nearly eleven when the recognizable lights and sounds of their car made the turn into their drive.

Allison saw me standing by the porch, through the darkness of the interior of the car, and as soon as the car stopped, she was out and running toward me. I met her halfway and swung her up into my arms. As we hugged, we simultaneously told each other how much we missed the other. I kissed her with the hunger of a man who’d been without food for days. She filled me up until she pulled away to glance over to her yard to see if her folks were watching us. If they’d been watching, they were ignoring us now. We walked to the side of my house, out of sight of her parents, and kissed each other while trying to press every inch of our bodies together. When air seemed like a good idea, we just held on to each other. She said again how much she missed me.

A couple of minutes later, her dad called out for her, and Allison told me she’d have to go, but we could talk more tomorrow. She gave me a tight hug, then kissed me gently on the lips, quietly mouthing, “I love you,” as she pulled away and headed for her house. I watched her walk up the lit porch steps and into the house, my heart now much lighter than it had been hours before. I was so up on adrenalin, I didn’t think I’d be able to come down, let alone sleep, for hours. To my surprise, after coming into the kitchen through the back door, and swiping a big chuck of ham from the refrigerator, I felt the rush passing by. Soon, after brushing my teeth, I was ready for bed and was instantly out.

In the long run, I had never been so glad to have such a short homecoming with Allison. The next day, I hardly had much of a chance to talk with her, as she and her friends coveted every spare moment to discuss their vacations and the upcoming prom. More than once throughout the day, I was given sly looks from Allison and her friends.

Matt even came up to me after lunch period and started talking about the prom, wanting to know if I’d asked Allison yet
? I said no.
All he said
in response
was, “Don’t assume anything!”

I got the message and, as soon as the last bell of the day rang, I headed directly to Allison’s locker. I made sure that I spoke just loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear, “Hey! Sorry I didn’t ask before you left, but I was really hoping you still had an opening for the prom, because I know a guy who would do just about anything to make sure you would go with him!”

Allison rolled her eyes at me, but I could see that she was really pleased I was making a big deal out of it. She crossed her arms and looked me up and down and said, “So who is this guy? Is he good looking? Does he have a car, and does he know how to treat his date with all the special attention she deserves?” By this time, we had a captive audience.

I laid it on as thick as I could. “Not only does he know how special you are, but he could think of no greater honor than to be your most humbled escort. Your stunning beauty has so enthralled him that he would die, should you not go with him!” In the background, I could hear several oohs from the girls and even more “oh, mans” from the guys.

Allison turned a deep shade of red. I had her. In my most sincere voice I asked, “Would you please go to the prom with me?” A head nod was all I got, and I took it, smiling as I got down on my knee and kissed her hand. Her girlfriends clapped, and my friends proceeded to call me a few choice words, neither of which had an influence on me. Allison was special, and I was glad to have her in my life.

The topic of what I had done while she was gone never came up between us; the prom was in the spotlight, and she wanted to know what color of tux I would be wearing. It seemed like she needed the itinerary planned down to the last minute, where we going to eat before the dance, and could we double with Matt and Dani? Did we have plans for after the dance, because she’d need to know what they were to get approval from her folks? Over the next few days, she kept my head spinning. I really only had one plan in mind and it was the moment when I took her up to Murphy’s meadow to view the heart I had carved in the tree. Allison, on the other hand, had made the prom the most heralded event in the last hundred years, and I was worried I might not live up to her high expectations and turn a potentially wonderful event, sour. I did my best to nod in all the appropriate places and to comply with all the things she asked of me.

I even had her mom on my side. “Poor Jason, Allison sure has you toeing the line,” she said to me after Allison bombarded me with proclamations.

I just smiled and said how much Allison was worth all the effort. Mrs. Dittmer gave me a hug and told me to keep my head up; it would all work out in the end.

The prom was a week away when Grandma Sarah found her voice and gave me the talk I knew was coming. It had all of the usual and expected parts to it. “Don’t drink and drive…don’t drink at all; don’t get into a car with someone who has been drinking, and for God’s sake don’t let anyone you see drinking
, drive
. You have a responsibility to your friends and classmates to look out for them too.” She took her time when it got to the part about relationships and the mature things that can happen.

It was hard for her to talk about it, and I tried to say all the right things. She accepted my answers, but I think we both knew, in the final excitement of the day, they might be more mouthed words than guarantees. When I thought we were done, she got up and went to the sink and got a glass of water. I took it as my signal. It was fair game to make an escape, but before I could even stand, she motioned me to sit back down.

Chapter 23

Everyone has secrets they keep, either out of fear or loyalty, maybe both. I thought I knew a lot about my Grandma Sarah, but the story she told me on Saturday afternoon while Grandpa was out and about, left me with a different perception of my grandma entirely.

Grandma Sarah sat down across from me and held my eyes for only a moment before she looked down. When she looked up, her gaze was concentrated out the window at some unknown point, some place that wasn’t visible to me. Her look was so eerily similar to Grandpa Jake’s when he’d sat across from me, with his own conversation, not too long ago.

“Jason, I met your grandfather when I had just finished high school and was working for the phone company. He had an inner strength about him that radiated all around and drew me to him like the moth to a flame. He made me feel protected and safe from the first moment we met. They always talk about love at first sight, but I’m not sure that is what it is. I believe it is more than attraction, but not quite love…that takes some time. If I really had to describe the feeling it would be, ‘
this is really right.
’ I’m not sure if
it’s
God’s plan for people destined to be together to meet, or if I’m just all wet, but with your grandpa it definitely felt right.

“We started down a path together with such vigor, I couldn’t imagine ever being happier than I was at that moment. Then life seemed to come crashing to a slow crawl, but I was still in a hurry. By chance, I had been doing some painting,” she looked at me and, as she said this, her eyes were still far away though, seeing some distant memory. I never thought of myself as an artist, I kind of knew I had talent, though, and in one of those unexplained moments, a painting I did as a gift, ended up changing my life.

“Jake and I were spending all of our time working, trying to get ahead, so we could move towards a future together. Your grandpa was determined to make something of himself before he asked me to marry him. I can’t fault him for that. He has always been a man of principle. There was a man from Chicago, an art dealer, who saw my painting and sought me out. We spent two days together talking about my talents. I got caught up in the praise and promises of what could be. He made me feel like I was wasting my time and abilities, stuck in the middle of nowhere. He offered to show some of my work at a show in Chicago. It would be over the holidays, and I’d need to have at least ten works to present. I was awe struck with him and the unexpected world he offered. He dressed big and had the perfect manners; he knew my heart and soul, or at least he led me to believe he did.”

I could not look away from Grandma Sarah and she wouldn’t look me straight in the eyes. She had a tear sliding down her face, and I wasn’t sure what it stood for. Inside it made me very nervous.

“As it happened,”
Grandma went on
, “
he left with the promise to stay in touch and made me swear I would be there over the holidays with my paintings in hand. I worked feverishly on those paintings with every free moment I had. Jake never said a word, because he was working just as hard trying to build his perception of a future with me. True to his word, the man from the art gallery called, at first only once a week and then more often. Grandpa never knew. Our relationship had suddenly found itself on rocky ground, and it was entirely my fault. Your grandpa would take all the blame for it, of that I’m sure. I let myself be swayed by the dreams of a small town girl making it big in the art world. And not just that, I let myself be drawn away from your grandpa by a man of image and not any substance. He knew exactly what to say and how to mold me, but the thing that bothers me still, haunts my dreams, and for which I’ve never forgiven myself, is that I let him.”

“Jake never tried to stop me from going to the show in Chicago; he believed in me, trusted me…loved me. It was clear, after my second day there that more would be expected of me than just my paintings. I put off his advances, and when I talked to your grandfather on the phone, he was so supportive of my dreams that I felt ashamed. I doubted myself and then turned it towards Jake. Eventually, I blamed him for letting me go. It was wrong, and I wish somehow I could take it all back. I was angry at myself and I transferred my anger to your grandfather, so I could be free of the guilt. Once I did, I let myself be totally taken by the art dealer.”

She stopped talking to me and was doing her best to regain a little of herself. I was dumbfounded and numb. I didn’t like where her story was going and wished she wasn’t telling it, but she kept on with her tale.

“I even went so far as to cut off contact with your grandfather. I had made my bed, and now I was going to lie in it. I’m not trying to lighten the burden I’ve carried, or seek your consent or forgiveness. I’m not going to tell you everything that happened or offer excuses to cover my actions. Some of it was good, much of it I enjoyed at the moment, but all of it still shames me today, and that is why I haven’t been able to paint like I did in the past. I’m always afraid my shame will come through somehow and be displayed for all to see. I was young, and to say I might deserve a pass on what I did, just weakens the pride and responsibility we should all hold ourselves up to. I was a hit in Chicago and the parent gallery in New York City wanted to show my work as well. I never hesitated and went without even a goodbye to your grandfather.”

“In New York, I was wined and dined, made to feel special. When he asked me to go to Paris with him, how could I have said no? By then, it was too late, and I was all in. I can tell you now with absolute conviction, I should have left Chicago running. The past cannot be undone and is of no consequence now; my actions were what they were, back then. In Paris, I lived a life of luxury, and when the art dealer asked me to marry him, I said yes.”

I was shocked and could hardly believe what Grandma was telling me, even more why she was telling me. She didn’t give me any chance to ask questions. I think she knew what needed to be said had to be said in full or it might not come at all.

“He gave me an exquisite ring and, for a day or two, I was content with my decision, but then something started to gnaw at me until I was sick in my heart and deep in my soul. I would go everyday to sit at a little park bench by a beautiful square, staring at the ring and trying to rationalize why I was here. That was when I started praying to God, asking for his forgiveness and to send Jake to rescue me. But then I was also afraid that if he did, when he found out what I had done, he would leave me here, as I so much deserved. After a week of soul searching, I found the courage and broke off the engagement. It was not taken well and he kicked me out of the hotel with no money and no way home. I had made friends with a couple of girls at the Paris gallery. They were kind to me and allowed me to share their flat, until I could make arrangements to get home. I was ashamed and didn’t know if home was someplace I could even go. I went to that bench every morning and asked God and Jake to forgive me.
Early one morning,
with my hope floundering, I found myself drawn to that same bench. There was a man sitting there hunched over, and I could see he was in anguish. I started to turn away, but when I heard him crying I felt compelled to offer what little comfort I could. As I drew closer and looked at him, I could see his body shaking with the grief consuming him. All around me the sounds of the city dimmed. My heart pounded and I clung mercifully to the wrought iron fence so I wouldn’t collapse. I knew the man on the park bench who was in so much pain; it was your grandfather. Prayers are answered, sometimes whether or not we deserve them to be. I took one unsteady step at a time and I went to him.”

Grandma took a deep breath, wiped away the tears from her eyes, and then drank the rest of her water in one last act of will power. When she looked at me I’m not sure what she saw. I was speechless. My grandpa had always told me Grandma Sarah was the one and only one for him, and it was love at first sight. Here I was with Grandma, as she spun a different story to their beginning. She was right, my initial thoughts put her in a different light, and I wasn’t quite sure what to think. I suddenly felt badly for my grandfather, and yet, I felt the emotional pain that my grandmother had gone through and lived with all these years. All I could think of to ask was, “Does Grandpa know? Did Dad Know?”

Grandma Sarah shook with all the force of relentless years of guilt burrowed deep inside of her. “No one has ever heard all the story, and I pray you will keep my confidence.”

I understood her predicament and the faith she had just bestowed on me by telling her secret. I had to ask, though, “Why are you telling me all of this?”

She suddenly brightened just a little and looked more like my grandma. “Because, when you told me you were going to carve the heart for Allison, it brought back all the memories, good and bad. When I saw what you had actually done, I became overcome with all the emotions of the past. You are your father, and he was your grandfather. The three of you have a deep and inexhaustible sense of being. I don’t know how to say it any differently. You are just you, but inside, you have a heart so much bigger than most people are aware of. Each of you has an uncanny need to profess your love to a special woman, no matter the cost to yourself. Your father worshiped your mother, and he died when she did. I make no excuses for what he did to you and to himself. When your father gave her his heart, she took it with her when she died. I see the same devotion to Allison inside of you.