All the Truth That's in Me (24 page)

Now

I.

Maria insists I wear her china-blue wedding dress.

She has trimmed and brushed and combed me, and braided plaits interwoven with dried flowers, just like she wore on her wedding day. She arranged a triangle of lace as my bridal cap and told me I look lovely.

For your sake I hope so.
Somehow I ate and bathed and slept and rose and dressed. I must have, for here I am now, ready to walk to my wedding.

II.

Maria goes inside for her shawl, and Leon speaks to me. It’s not easy for him.

“Did Lottie suffer long, Miss Finch?”
“Oh,” I say. I look away.
He leans toward me, pleading with me to look at him. “I

swear to you, if I’d ever dreamed . . .”
Leon Cartwright. I feel awkward for Maria. Poor Lottie.
But to be her young beau, and then to have wondered what
happened, all these years, and grieve?
“Nott for very long, Mr. Cartwrightt.”
His eyes grow red. “I would have married her,” he says.
“We were both so young.”
I nod. Young love is not always forever. I know. Maria appears in the doorway, beaming at us. I watch
Leon gaze at his wife.
“Thank you for wishing me joy,” I tell Leon as Maria
draws near. He nods.

III.

We arrive at the church early. I don’t want to be led there by a parade of villagers, if any would care to come. I want to sit quietly and think. Maria holds my hands and chatters at me.

The door opens. You come into the chapel, brushed and shaven and pressed.
Maria slips away, murmuring about something she forgot at home.
You sit beside me, gingerly, as though I might break if you touched me. You look at me. I look back into your beautiful bruised face, at the morning illuminating your green eyes. I can’t read them.
“What’ss the matter?” I ask, pulling back.
“Nothing,” you say. You take my hands and kiss my fingertips. Yet you look so serious that I begin to worry.
The empty church is silent and bright. There are only the two of us, breathing together. You trace your finger across my forehead, down my nose, and onto my lips. I watch your eyes as they follow your finger’s path along my skin.
Your words are a whisper. “Are you truly here? And truly mine?”
I hope my eyes are answer enough. Just in case, though, I catch your finger between my teeth, and bite.
Your laughter rings off the ceiling beams. Bruises can’t stop your eyes from flashing wickedly. “Run away west with me, Judith. Right now. Phantom’s outside. What do you say?” “All rightt,” I say. “We’re nott dressed for it, though.”

“True.” You pluck at your black coat, then finger my lace cap. “Since we’re here, we might as well get married.”
I shrug. “If you inssistt.”
You kiss my fingertips once more and return the bite. “I do insist.”
You offer me your arm and squeeze mine tight. We rise and walk up the same aisle that they dragged us down the day before.
Reverend Frye stumps his way up the aisle. Elizabeth follows, carrying his robes, and she smiles shyly at me. I hear a noise at the rear of the church. I turn to see the doors open. Darrel comes in, arm in arm with Goody Pruett. He waves his hat at me. Maria and Leon are back, too. They are all so dear to me now. This day swallows them up in love.
Reverend Frye keeps it brief.
And then you are mine.

IV.

Phantom pulls us home in the cart. Even she is braided and beribboned for the marriage. Fortunately she can drive us home without needing our help. Our attention is not on the reins.

Will we stay here? Will we journey on? Today is not a day for answering such questions.
On the step of your home—our home—we find baskets of food and jars of preserves.
Trying to eat them is your mule.
And there is a box. A wooden trunk with finch branded on one side. It was my father’s.
Inside are sheets and towels and a quilt, all bearing my mother’s fine stitching. I caress the smooth, soft fabrics.
This box is full of words my mother can’t bring herself to say.
We drag the box inside, and lock the door.

Acknowledgments

A fount of blessings made
All the Truth That’s In Me
possible. I’m grateful to Vermont College of the Fine Arts for creating an atmosphere that fostered and demanded my best work. Sarah Aronson, Jill Santopolo, Gwenda Bond, and Rita Williams-Garcia’s early enthusiasm for this piece gave me much-needed hope. And Tim Wynne-Jones mentored the project from start to finish with his trademark generosity, wisdom and warmth. I love him.

Blessing spilled over beyond VCFA’s Montpelier campus. My agent, Alyssa Eisner Henkin, championed this project in all the right ways. My editor, Kendra Levin, took over where Tim left off, lovingly and astutely showing me what the novel yet lacked. She made our collaboration a delight. Her colleagues at Penguin Books for Young Readers linked arms and surrounded this project with support. Regina Hayes, Ken Wright, Janet Pascal, Vanessa Han, Eileen Savage, Kim Ryan, Jennifer Loja, Don Weisberg, the marketing team, and the sales force, thank you for your diligent efforts, and for your faith in Judith’s story.

Where public thanks are owed the most, I’m left unsure of how to offer them. There comes a time, when we write, if we’re lucky, when we recognize that grace involved itself in our work, and we are not entirely in charge of things. This was such a project, and I am such a debtor; I claim any faults as my own.

I try to write for the world, but in truth there’s just one reader I dearly hope to please. This book is for him. On some level every love story I write is my attempt to show the world what Phil means to me. Someday I pray I’ll get it right.

Table of Contents

Before

After

Book One

I

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXV.

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIV.

XLV.

XLVI.

XLVII.

XLVIII.

XLIX.

L.

LI.

LII.

LIII.

LIV.

LV.

LVI.

LVII.

LVIII.

LIX.

LX.

LXI.

LXII.

LXIII.

LXIV.

LXV.

LXVI.

LXVII.

LXVIII.

LXIX.

LXX.

LXXI.

LXXII.

LXXIII.

LX XIV.

LX X V.

LXXVI.

LXXVII.

LXXVIII.

LXXIX.

LXXX.

LXXXI.

LXXXII.

LXXXIII.

LXXXIV.

LXXXV.

LXXXVI.

LXXXVII.

LXXXVIII.

LXXXIX.

XC.

XCI.

XCII.

XCIII.

XCIV.

XCV.

XCVI.

XCVII.

Book Two

I.

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

X V.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

X XIV.

X X V.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXV.