The Return of Jonah Gray (26 page)

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Authors: Heather Cochran

BOOK: The Return of Jonah Gray
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So that was the source of my mother's inspiration. Unfortunately, Jonah hadn't included suggestions for types of trees, and I preferred the idea of a nursery, rather than digging in the dirt of a Christmas-tree farm. But I knew he'd have a suggestion, and besides, it had been a while.

Dear Jonah,
I wrote.
My mother read your piece on Christmas trees, and she's sold on the idea. Unfortunately, I have no idea which species of tree is most likely to thrive in the Bay area. Any suggestions? Jeffrine.

By the time I was packing up for the day, he had written back.

Jeffrine, It's always a pleasure to hear from you. I was going to write, but I wasn't sure of your address, and I worried that the archivist might end up with my note. If your mother wants a tree that'll be around for years to come, she might try a silver tip or Scotch pine, or even blue spruce. Or go for a white fir like the one I got. You'll surely be able to find one of those varieties in your local nursery. Just be sure to keep the root ball moist (your mother will know what I mean). How are you, by the way? Jonah

I'm fine
, I began writing back.
I've been—

“Are you ready?”

I looked up to see Jeff.

“Almost,” I said. “I'm just finishing something.”

“What are you finishing?”

“A note,” I said.

“I can see that. I meant, a note to whom?”

“It's nothing,” I said. “I'll write it later.” I shut my computer down.

“I didn't mean to stop you,” he said, but I wasn't sure whether or not to believe him. “So?” he asked.

“So what?”

“Have you made a decision?”

“Decision?”

“About Fresno. For Christmas.”

I rubbed my arm where the needle had gone in earlier that afternoon. “We'll be getting the results of the blood tests the day after tomorrow. Can it wait until then?”

“Of course it can, baby,” he said. “Are we still on for dinner?”

“Dinner?”

“We were having dinner tonight and tomorrow because Friday you have that holiday party.”

“That's right. The Maselins' party. You're so good at remembering.”

“That's what they pay me for,” he said. “So are you ready?”

I looked back at my computer and nodded.

 

Two days later, on Friday afternoon, the test results were in. Blake was still in school, Kurt was teaching in Stockton, and Marcus remained home with my father. But I had promised my mother that I'd meet her at the hospital, so we could hear about our options firsthand. We had agreed to meet in Dr. Fisher's office at two, but the room was empty when I arrived.

“Can I help you?” I turned around to see Dr. Fisher's assistant.

“I'm here for some blood-test results.”

The young man looked at me warily. “Gardner, right?” he asked.

“Yes. For Jacob Gardner. The bone-marrow match.”

“The doctor just presented them to your mother and uncle.”

“He already did?” I looked at my watch. It was not quite two o'clock. “Where are they?”

“Out, I guess.”

“Am I a match, do you know?”

“No. No matches. Not any of you.”

“I guess it was a long shot.”

“It was something,” he said.

Leaving the office, I spotted Uncle Ed standing with my mother at the end of the hallway. He was in nearly the same place he'd been when I first saw Marcus, back before I knew that he was Marcus and my half brother. Back when the news of Dad's recurrence was still new and deniable.

Ed and my mother looked as though they were discussing something, but then Ed raised his hands and, even from a distance, I could tell that he was angry. He looked as if he could barely control himself. My mother shook her head, then shook it again, at which point Ed turned from her and came charging up the hallway.

“Uncle Ed,” I said.

“Later,” he snapped, barreling past me.

I hurried to my mother who sat now on a bench outside the laboratory door. “Mom?” I said. I could see that she was in tears. “What's wrong? What happened?”

“Oh, Sasha,” my mother said. She reached for my hand. I sat beside her and put an arm around her. She seemed so small, so much slighter than I remembered. “I made a mistake, and Ed is angry with me.”

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“What is it? Does it have to do with Dad?”

She sighed. “I suppose it does.”

I waited a moment. “Will you tell me?”

“I don't know if you'll remember any of this,” she began, “but back when you were in high school…oh, you must have been fifteen at the time. It was tax season and your father barely left his study, not even to come out and eat with us. Do you remember when he'd get like that? It was a bad year, and we were struggling a bit. Bills and things. I decided to spend some time in Tahoe.”

“For spring skiing,” I remembered. “I wanted to go but you didn't want to take me out of school for that long.”

“That's right. That was the time. I should have taken you.”

“It's fine. I don't harbor any resentment.”

“Oh, Sasha. Dear, dear Sasha.”

“What Mom? You're scaring me.”

“I went to the condo for about a week, I think.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I left Piedmont angry. I shouldn't have, but I did. And during that week, I was not faithful to your father.”

“What?”

“Now before you judge me—”

“I'm not judging. I'm just surprised.”

“I was never unfaithful before or since,” she said. “I've been a good wife. And your father was no saint. That much is obvious.”

“So you had a fling. With whom?”

She took a deep breath. “You know Ian Maselin,” she said.

I froze. Had she really said that name, of all names? Ian Maselin? Ian Maselin the slime? Ian Maselin the snake? Wasn't she better than that?

“Really?” I managed to say. “Mr. Maselin?”

“I ran into him at the ski lodge. I didn't realize he'd be in Tahoe.”

“Ian Maselin?” I repeated. “But he's so…so obvious.”

“He paid attention to me. He listened to me. He looked at me.”

“He looked at you? Is that all it took? The man's looked at me a thousand times and I've never—” I didn't finish. I didn't want to say anything I'd have to envision. It was all wrong. Ian Maselin?

“I'm not proud of it, but it happened and then it was over.”

“So it was just that one time? This wasn't something that went on for years and years or anything, was it?” I tried to think of all the times they'd socialized with each other. I checked my memories for signs of something larger.

My mother shook her head. “Oh no. I came back and things with your father improved, and then I found out that I was pregnant…”

I don't know if she said anything more just then. That's when it fell into place. That's what Ed was livid about. Not that she'd had an affair. Not that she'd fallen for someone other than my father. It wasn't about a moral lapse. It was about biology.

“Blake's not…” I couldn't say it.

“I never knew for sure. He's never needed blood tests. He's always been so healthy. Maybe I suspected it. Well, of course, I suspected it. But now with these tests…”

“No wonder he and Marcus don't look more alike. I'm always trying to find some resemblance, but I never do.”

“I don't think you're ever going to.”

“So, now what?”

“I don't know. Ed found out and he's angry.”

“You don't have a plan? Are you going to tell Blake? Are you going to tell Dad?”

“No,” she said. “What good would telling your father do? That's one thing Ed and I agree on. As for Blake, maybe after your father…” She petered off. “Sasha, I feel terrible,” she said.

“You should,” I said, thinking of Marcus. I heard my cell phone begin to ring, and I scrambled to pull it from my purse in time. “Hello?”

“Sasha, it's Jeff. Are you okay?”

“Enough. Why?”

“I swung by your office and you're not there. No one knew where you were. Where are you?”

“At the hospital.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I just said I was. It's family stuff. It's not a good time. Can I call you later?”

“Call me later,” he said.

 

Maybe I wasn't as angry as Uncle Ed, but I was plenty mad. I had to get some space from my mother, but I didn't want to go back to work. Instead, I found myself driving aimlessly around Oakland and then Piedmont. I passed Hunter's. I passed the Escape Room. I passed Blake's high school. He was in there, I thought, somewhere, oblivious. Finally, I pulled into a plant nursery not far from my parents' house. I was angry and confused, yes. But I still needed a Christmas tree.

I was browsing the evergreen section when I felt a timid tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Ellen Maselin.

“Sasha, right? I didn't expect to see you here. Of all people,” she said.

“I need to get a tree,” I said. I looked at her, wondering whether she knew, whether she had any inkling, after all those years.

“Are you doing the living tree, too?” she asked.

“My mother wanted to start a new tradition.”

“Someone's become quite a faithful reader,” Ellen said. “It took me a while to convince Ian. You know how he likes to have the biggest tree on the street. You're coming tonight, aren't you?”

“Tonight?”

“Our holiday party. I wish your father could attend. Please tell him that we're thinking of him.”

“Your holiday party,” I repeated.

“And feel free to bring that young man who's been helping your father.”

“Marcus? He's my half brother.”

“I didn't realize you were related,” Ellen said.

“There's a lot of that going on,” I said.

Ellen cocked her head like a small bird trying to ascertain whether the crouched cat in the bushes was a statue or not. My cell phone rang again, so I didn't have to elaborate.

“Hello?”

It was Jeff. “I thought you were going to call me,” he said.

 

I chose a little tree that the clerk informed me was a noble fir. It looked somewhat less than noble, standing two feet high at the most, but if my mother didn't approve, she could buy one herself.

It was almost dark when I finally pulled into the driveway of my parents' house. I carried the tree inside and found my mother at the kitchen table having dinner with Blake and Marcus.

“What's that?” Blake asked.

“It's our Christmas tree.” I set it on the kitchen floor.

“Sasha, it's lovely,” my mother said. “It's just perfect.”


That's
our Christmas tree?” Blake asked.

“Ask her about it,” I said, motioning to our mother.

“I was getting worried about you,” she said.

I ignored her.

“Mom said that none of us matched Dad,” Blake said. “Oh well.”

“Oh well is right,” I said. I couldn't meet my mother's eyes.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Is there going to be food at this party?” Marcus asked.

“I'm sure there will be,” my mother said.

“You really want to go?” I asked him. “I was thinking that maybe I'd skip it.”

“Oh, come on. Go with me. Just for a little bit,” Marcus asked. “I've been planning on it. No offense, Lola, but I could use a night out.”

“By all means,” my mother said to him. “I'm happy to stay with Jacob tonight. You two should go. It's always a lively event.”

“Fine. Let me wash my hands and we can walk down there,” I told Marcus.

“No one cares whether I want to go?” Blake asked.

For a brief moment, I met my mother's eyes. Then I looked away. “Do you want to go to the Maselins' holiday party?” I asked Blake.

“No way,” he said. “They're weird.”

 

Marcus and I walked down the dark street.

“You seem a little off tonight,” he said.

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