Lily White Lies(18)

Shifting my position on the radiator, I cleared my throat and offered an apology.

“I’m sorry; I was hoping that...” Lowering my head, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Brought on by a little disappointment and a lot of guilt, I had a strong desire to flee the room. Wishing I could take it all back, and knowing I couldn’t, I wanted to distance myself from the events of the afternoon. I was mad at myself for being unable to let the past alone. I was insensitively mad at my aunt for being unable to communicate her feelings to me and I was mad at Gram for shining light on something from the past that had no hope of being changed.

I felt like a coward for wanting to run out on her. I had selfishly thought that bringing the truth to light would somehow give me back something I had lost almost twenty-five years earlier. It wasn’t even that I thought she could take an active part in my life; just knowing she was there and that she knew whom I was would have been enough.

I have a mother, but I can’t make her understand she has a daughter. It feels painfully similar to not having her at all.



When the orderly appeared, holding a tray, I felt a rush of relief pass over me. Mealtime was a legitimate reason for me to excuse myself without feeling guilty of desertion.

“It looks like dinnertime, so I guess I’ll be going now.” I hesitated. “I’m not sure if my coming was the right thing, but… well, I just hope it wasn’t the wrong thing.”

The orderly placed the tray on the table, offering me an impatient stare. I made my goodbye a quick one with a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Aunt Karen, but I really do have to go.”

I had been foolishly mistaken if I thought I’d feel better after my visit. I was so confused about everything from whether or not she understood a word I said, to what I should call her now, to how I felt about returning with Gram tomorrow.

Between tears and exhaustion, I stared out the cab window for what seemed like an endless ride to Willoughby. Gram couldn’t fix what I had done, but I hoped I’d feel better by talking to her.



~ ~ ~



I called out several times but couldn’t find anyone inside so I ventured outside and followed the smell of manure to the small barn behind my grandparent’s house.

“Hello. Gram, Gramp, anyone here?” When no reply came, I yelled, “HELLO!” once more.

I stood quietly and looked around as I took in the aroma of farm life.

I hadn’t considered that my grandparents might be out when I paid the cabdriver off. My grandfather had become quite reclusive since his release from prison almost two years earlier. Gram said it was easier to feed twenty people with one hen than it was to get Gramp to leave the house.

“Hey Sugar, didn’t hear you pull in.”

Gramp came from around the side of the barn and it was apparent he had startled me more than my unexpected visit had startled him.

“Hey, I was just about to call a cab to come get me. I thought that maybe you went out with Gram. Is she here?”

Gramp, always known to have busy hands, filled buckets with feed from various bags, as he spoke.

“Naw. She went to the market for a few things.” Throwing a cup of oats into the last bucket, he raised an eyebrow and faced me. “But you can visit a bit with me if you like.”

I looked around the backyard, almost as a trapped rat would search for an escape.

“Uh… Sure. I guess I will.”

As he took the buckets for delivery to anxiously awaiting recipients, I prayed Gram would soon be home. I guess deep down I loved my grandfather but I felt uncomfortable around him, never knowing what to say.

Between my grandparents, Gramp was the easy-going one. He had gone to prison for accidentally killing Wesley Ellis, the same man who killed my parents. Prison broke most men. The steel bars, the infinite weeks, months and years for retrospection and the fight for survival and respect within the cold, merciless walls would take the strongest of men and beat them down to a fraction of their emotional worth. But not Gramp. If anything, I sensed an added degree of calmness and strength since his release.

Maybe that was the reason for my uneasiness around him. I felt as if he were bottling his prison experience inside and that one-day he would unexpectedly blow. I had also heard rumors while growing up that contradicted what Gram always told me about why he went to jail. I’d never had the nerve to ask him or Gram about it, but it was something I thought about, especially when I found myself alone with him.

I stepped back, startled by his voice. “So, how’s that fellow of yours? Treating you well?”

Glancing at the ground to make sure I wasn’t stepping in animal droppings, I replied, “Uh, yeah. It’s been a little hectic lately, but yeah… things are good.”