The Hidden - Jessica Verday [49]
“Hey, Aunt Marjorie,” I said, “if I don’t ever get the chance again, I just wanted to tell you how much I really appreciate everything you did for me. Especially the advice about love and being sure and all that. My head is a lot clearer now, and I can make decisions easier. So, thanks.”
“Decisions?” she said. “Planning something?”
“More so, just now I know what I need to do. And I’m at peace with that.”
“Are we talking about being at peace with ourselves because we are strong, individual, confident women who don’t need men, or are we talking about being at peace with a decision that involves something drastic?” She sounded alarmed.
“I don’t know what you mean by drastic, but it’s the right choice for me.”
“Abbey, you’ve discussed this with other people, right? Talked to someone else about it?”
“Well, yeah, actually, but it didn’t work. They don’t understand me. I tried to talk to Mom and Dad, but they just got upset.”
“You can talk to me. Please talk to me. You have other options. This is a serious decision! I know it might seem like the world is ending now, but there’s more in store for you. Just hold on. Some boy isn’t worth it!”
“Worth what?”
Now she sounded flustered. “Are—aren’t you talking about hurting yourself? Because a boy dumped you?”
I know I shouldn’t have laughed, but I did. “Um, no. That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“It’s not?”
“No, Aunt Marjorie. I’m talking about having a clearer idea of where my life is headed. For the future.”
“Oh.” Relief flooded her voice. “Oh, that’s good. Very, very good.”
I shook my head at the phone. Hurting myself because a boy dumped me? I don’t know where she’d gotten that from. “Okay, then. So are we good? All clear?”
“All clear.”
“I’ll call you again soon.”
“Okay, sweetie. Talk later.”
I tucked my phone away and looked up. It was a beautiful night out, with clear skies and a big silvery moon. But there weren’t any stars.
Getting up, I dusted off my jeans and headed back inside. Luckily, I had my own set of stars. And someone to look at them with.
The letter from Aunt Marjorie came two days after our phone call, and I realized she must have written it pretty much right after I’d called her. I found it in the mailbox when I got home from school, and sat down on the front steps to read it.
Dear Abbey,
I feel that this letter has been a long time coming, mostly because I feel that you should know something very important about me. The irony that it seems like recent boy troubles have been on your mind is not lost on me, especially in light of this news.
I am not one to judge, so please do not feel that this is me judging you, or passing my opinions or thoughts on to you. You are my great-niece, whom I adore and cherish with all of my heart. Whatever choices you have made in life, and will continue to make in life, I fully support. Wherever that may lead you.
In the long run, however, I feel that you deserve to know this because I fear I may have given you the wrong idea of how smoothly life went for your uncle and me. Even though we haven’t discussed your uncle in great detail, please know that I loved that man with everything I had. With everything I was. In fact, I still do. He was kind and patient and wonderful. There will never be another person on this earth who is the kindred soul to me that Gerald was.
Our love was strong. And fierce. As I’ve told you before, when it hit me, I knew. I knew beyond anything else that he was the one for me. There were happy times, and sad times, because such is the way of life, but above all, there were good times. Always, always good times.
I could fill these pages with memories of all the good times, Abbey. Pages and pages of good times. But what I think is most important for you to know, what something deep in my soul tells me you need to know, is about the bad times.
Gerald and I were married right after he joined the Navy. He was a scientist. A fixer and builder of things. After he’d returned home from his tour of duty, he told me a story once. About how his platoon had been sent on a top secret