It’s all happening so fast. I don’t know what to do. But I know that no matter what the circumstances, Penny deserves justice. “The police will want to at least take your testimony,” I say. “For the record.” I place my hand over hers. “Naomi, Penny was pregnant that night.”
“My God,” she says. “I didn’t know.”
“What do we do next?” Jim asks.
We’ve been so deep in conversation, none of us notice Gene standing in the kitchen until he clears his throat.
“Gene, dear,” Naomi says. “What are you doing up?”
“I’m going to turn myself in,” he says.
Naomi stands up and shakes her head. “Dear, you’re not well. Go back to bed. You need—”
“No,” Gene says lucidly. “I know what I’m saying. I know what I did. I need to confess before it’s too late to do it. I’ve carried this for too long, dear.”
“This is what I was trying to prevent from happening,” Jim says to me. He shakes his head as if trying to sort out what to do next. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but you were asking so many questions about Penny, I worried there might be something inside your houseboat, something incriminating. Look at him. He’s in no state to go to prison.”
“You,” I say. “It was you who was trying to break in?”
“Yes,” he replies. “I long suspected this ugly truth in my family’s past. Sometimes I thought it was a dream, a recurring nightmare, but deep down, I knew what I saw as a boy. That horrible image of my father’s hands around her neck—it’s burned in my memory.”
Naomi shakes her head. “Gene, no, I won’t let you do this. You don’t know what you’re saying. Go back to bed.” She looks at Jim. “Jimmy, stop this nonsense. Take your father back to bed.”
“No,” Gene says, holding up his hand. “This family has suffered too long because of what I did. To think I had everyone on Boat Street believing that Jimmy was to blame. It’s the only way they’d keep the pact.” Jim looks at his feet as his father shakes his head slowly. “It’s time I come clean.”
“Father,” Jim says. His face looks ashen. “You told them that I—”
“I’m sorry, son,” he says.
Naomi is crying now. She stands up and walks toward him, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “Please,” she begs. “Don’t do this. Don’t go to the police.”
He takes her face in his hands. “I knew you could never love me the way you loved Dexter Wentworth,” he says in a quivering voice. “I thought that if she were gone, he’d be too guilt-ridden to continue the affair.”
Naomi shakes her head. “No, Gene. No, I won’t hear of this.”
“And I was right,” he says. “But what I didn’t know was that you’d only be half here. One part of your heart would always long for him. I didn’t factor that into my plan.” Gene touches her chin lightly, but she turns away.
“All this time,” she says, searching his eyes, “I thought you did it for me. I thought you wanted her out of the way so I could be happy.” She shakes her head. “But you did it for yourself.”
Gene is stoic, but I can see that her words have pierced him in a place that only she can reach. He walks to the closet. “I’ll just go and get my coat. Son, will you drive me to the station?”
Jim stands. “Dad,” he says. “I—”
I squeeze Jim’s arm. “Let him go,” I say under my breath. “He needs this.”
“But his health . . .”
“The police will take that into account, I’m sure,” I say.
Jim nods. I watch him walk toward his father. I know it must be painful for him, for all of them. But this scene should have played out fifty years ago. The sadness in the room is thick, but there’s relief, too. I see it on Naomi’s face; Gene’s, too.
“All right, Pop,” Jim says slowly.
“You’re doing the right thing, Gene,” I say, standing up.
“Oh, Penny,” he cries. “Will you ever forgive me?”
“Her name is Ada, Dad,” Jim interjects.
Gene looks momentarily stunned, then nods. “Of course it is.”
I reach into my pocket. Penny’s hospital bracelet is there, as is the crumpled paper I found in the chest. “Here,” I say to Jim. “Something I found in the houseboat. I think it belongs to you.”
Jim unfolds the wrinkled paper and studies the comic strip he drew as a boy, with its crude figures and jagged lines. It was once a castoff, perhaps, but years later, I look into Jim’s tear-filled eyes, and I can see that it might just be the greatest relic from a lost childhood. While this little freckle-faced boy may have been lost in the shuffle of his parents’ own heartache, he mattered to Penny.