Carly (30 page)

Carly turned this over in her mind. How would she have reacted to hearing the bald truth as a child? She had no answer. She
kissed her mother, letting that show her love.

“And I didn’t help the situation,” Bette added, sounding ashamed. “I’ve regretted over and over how I treated your mother,
Carly. I should have supported her in her time of need. I should have done better.”

Chloe placed her hand over Bette’s. “You were suffering from losing both your stepfather and your husband and grieving over
Leigh’s loss. No one in this world makes the right choices all the time. Evil knows just when to hit us. Evil knows to strike
when we are weak.”

“Mom,” Carly said, “I’m not mad at you anymore. Trent told me how it was. He said he wasn’t . . . a very good person then.
He used you. But he does love me. And now that I have him in my life, I’m not angry with you anymore. I’m older now, too.
I know that sounds funny because I’m still only seventeen. But I understand now. Life hits you with things you . . .” Carly
brushed away tears. “You don’t see coming, and it can hurt so much.”

Leigh took Carly’s good hand in hers. “I wish I could have saved you from all that’s happened to you.”

“I don’t.” Carly faced them fiercely. “All my life I’ve been afraid, uncertain about who I was. I see now that I enlisted
in order to put myself to the test and either conquer my fear or go down once and for all.” Carly felt her heart pounding,
but it felt wonderful to say the words, the words that were freeing her.

“This past year, I’ve been pushed to my limits and survived.” Carly thought of Alex and boot camp and of the first trip into
the Saudi desert, and her chin trembled. “I’ve faced paralyzing, overwhelming fear, fear of capture, of pain, of death. I’ve
lost someone I loved, too. So maybe I can understand how it is to love and . . . lose. But I learned I can survive.” She cleared
her throat and let the words she’d held back flow out. “Through it all, I’ve found that I can go through hell and then come
back again with the help of God. I’m trying to find in him my all in all. I’ve started.” Beaming at them, she burst into tears.

The other three gathered around her, stroking her hair, kissing her, speaking words of love. She looked into each of their
faces and thanked God for them. Finally, all their tears had fallen, and they sat around the table quiet, drained but uplifted
by love for each other.

“There’s more, Bette,” Chloe prompted briskly, tucking her hankie into her sweater pocket. “Now you need to tell them. The
ceremony will take place in just two months.”

“What ceremony?” Leigh asked, glancing from face to face.

“I’m going to be honored for my service in World War II,” Bette said, looking at her lap.

With a wry smile, Leigh studied her mother. “Yes? What else haven’t you told us?”

Carly watched both of them, anticipation tingling through her.

“Well, dear,” Bette said without looking up, “you know how you always thought I was just a secretary at the CIA?”

Leigh nodded.

“I wasn’t a secretary. I was a spy.”

Carly gawked at her grandmother, and Leigh’s mouth dropped open.

“Your mother,” Chloe added, sounding proud, “worked against the Nazis before and during the war and then joined the new CIA
after the war.”

“Mom,” Leigh said with eyes wide, “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Bette shrugged. “Part of being a spy is not letting anyone know.”

“Did Daddy know?” Leigh asked.

Finally, Bette looked up with a smile. “Your stepfather, Ted, trained me, and we worked together.”

“What?” Leigh gasped. “Daddy was a spy, too?”

Bette nodded and grinned. “And what a spy he was. I have so much to tell you.”

“And I want to hear it, too,” Carly interjected. “Grandma—a spy. Wow.”

Through the open windows, the sound of a vehicle pulling up to the side of Ivy Manor interrupted them. Carly swiveled on her
seat. And the other three rose and went to look out the back door. “Who is it?” Carly asked, gripping her cane and rising
to join the others.

“They’re here early,” Chloe replied. “I thought they’d be here by dinnertime tonight.”

“Who are they, Mother?” Bette asked.

Chloe didn’t reply but opened the door and called, “We’re here.” She motioned toward the middle-aged couple getting out of
a somewhat battered blue pickup.

The two strangers walked toward them. Both wore blue jeans and jean jackets. Carly studied them and suddenly she knew who
they were. She’d seen a family photo of them. She pushed her way out the door. “You’re Bowie’s parents!”

Nodding, Mrs. Jenkin hurried forward. “Your great-grandmother invited us. You’re Carly. Bowie sent us a photo of you two together.”
The plump woman with graying blond hair burst into tears.

Carly put her arms around Mrs. Jenkin’s neck and wept with her. “I’m so glad you came. I’ve been wanting to talk about Bowie
to someone who knew him. I loved him and he loved me.”

“We had a memorial service at our church for him.” Mr. Jenkin came up behind his wife. “But we needed to see you, talk to
you. You were with him, weren’t you? When it happened.”

Carly nodded, the great grief welling up inside fresh, dragging her down once more. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t be sorry, honey,” Mrs. Jenkin soothed her. “We’re glad you’re alive. We lost Bowie. But we know he was so happy
to have you in his life.” Bowie’s mom broke down again. Mr. Jenkin wiped tears from his lined, sunburned cheeks and put a
comforting arm on his wife’s shoulder.

Carly hugged Mrs. Jenkin and whispered a prayer that God would let Bowie know about this meeting. Bowie had thought them so
different, but that had been all about this world, and Bowie was beyond that now. “I know he’s with Jesus,” Carly whispered
to his mother. “I know I’ll see him again.”

Mrs. Jenkin stroked Carly’s moist cheek. “If we have Christ, we have hope.”

Carly could only nod.

Chloe drew them all inside to the cottage’s living room. Bette and Leigh bustled around, brewing coffee and making sandwiches.
Carly looked at her great-grandmother and mouthed, “Thank you. I love you.”

Chloe mouthed back to her, “I love you. Always.”

Washington, D.C.

Two months later, Carly sat in the front row in the Rose Garden at the White House to witness her grandmother receiving the
Medal of Freedom. Warm summer sun beat down on them, but a breeze made the day bearable. On Carly’s one side sat a happy-looking
Alex Reseda, who’d gotten leave to spend time with Carly as she convalesced at Ivy Manor. On the other was Lorelle, home from
the Gulf and on leave, too. Carly’s cast was off and her hand was without bandages, but she still needed a cane. Lorelle,
Alex, and Carly wore their dress uniforms. “This is so cool,” Alex whispered into Carly’s ear. “I never thought I’d see the
president in person at the White House.”

Carly grinned. In the same row sat her mother and stepfather, her great-grandmother, and Chloe’s friend Minnie Dawson, Lorelle’s
great-grandmother. Gretel Sachs, her grandmother Bette’s lifelong friend, had flown all the way from Israel to attend. And
Dan proudly sat beside Bette. All of them were dressed in their best and looking excited. Bette looked stunning in a crisp
linen dress in her favorite shade of deep purple. Dan had sent her a dozen red sweetheart roses and Bette had insisted on
his wearing one bud as a boutonniere. Dan was holding Bette’s hand, and Carly loved it.

The president was announced and appeared. Everyone rose. At his motion, everyone sat. He began speaking about the cost of
liberty in each generation and the brave men and women who gave their talents, and even sometimes their lives, to defend freedom
for all Americans. He said that the World War II generation was vanishing and that their nation must take the opportunity
to proffer those veterans gratitude. “Among the services that are being recognized today are the first of Ms. Bette McCaslin
Gaston’s intelligence career. If it hadn’t been for the efforts of young Bette McCaslin in the 1930s, the U.S. would have
entered World War II with the Nazis knowing all our weapons secrets. This was only the first of a career crowned with success.”
The president listed the ways Bette had aided the cause against Nazi Germany. Then he concluded, “Several times young Bette
McCaslin received private thanks and commendations from President Franklin Roosevelt. I’m happy to be able to thank this woman
publicly today.”

Awed by these words, Carly felt her whole being filled with pride, a glowing, expanding warmth.
This is my grandmother
. Then Bette was called forward and the Medal of Freedom was presented to her. The president shook her hand and then motioned
her to the microphone.

Near tears, Bette thought of those events of all those years ago and also of Ted, her intelligence partner and later husband.
Bette pulled herself together and looked out at the audience and cleared her throat. She had something important to say, and
she’d been given a golden opportunity to say it.

“Mr. President, honored guests, I never imagined that I would receive this honor from the country I love. I was privileged
to work against Hitler and later against Stalin, both cruel dictators. Due to wartime necessity, I served in the FBI unofficially
thirty years before women were allowed to enter the FBI. The work I did was exciting and at times dangerous. But I was able
to meet the demands because of who I am, because of those whose love made me the woman I was, and because of what they’d taught
me about courage. I am a woman of Ivy Manor, my family’s ancestral home in Maryland. But I’m not the first strong woman to
come from Ivy Manor.

“First of all, I’d like to thank my mother for her example of courage. In the midst of the Great Depression and in spite of
the anti-Semitism of her neighbors, my mother took in a young Jewish immigrant girl in the 1930s. Mother, will you and Gretel
join me up here?”

Chloe looked reluctant, but a beaming Gretel took her arm and marched her up to the microphone.

“Next, my mother and, I hope in some small way, I influenced my daughter Leigh. As part of her iconoclastic generation, Leigh
took part in the women’s movement of the 1970s. And even before that, passionate in her support of equal rights as a high-school
girl, attended Dr. King’s march here in Washington in 1963. Come up, Leigh.”

Looking surprised, Leigh joined her great-grandmother at the front near Bette.

“Now, I commend to you my granddaughter, Carly, who has continued the tradition of service to her country. She has just served
in the Gulf War and was recently presented the Purple Heart. Come up, Carly.”

Applause surrounded Carly as she walked with her cane to stand beside her mother.

“Also, I’d like Minnie Dawson and her great-granddaughter, also a Gulf War veteran, to come forward.”

Looking puzzled, Minnie and Lorelle joined the others grouped around Bette.

“Minnie and my mother ran away together in 1917 to New York City. Minnie Dawson nee Carlyle became Mimi Carlyle, who appeared
on Broadway and later in supporting roles in several of Dorothy Dandridge’s films in the 1950s.”

Minnie lifted one eyebrow as if to ask,
What are you leading up to?

Bette winked at Minnie. Then she faced the audience, pride pulsing in her heart. “All these women had a part in my life and
more importantly, in the greater life of this nation in the twentieth century.

“When I look at them, I see how the role of women in America and in the world has changed over this century.” Bette paused
to compose herself to voice the tribute she’d planned. “It makes me proud of them and proud to be a part of them. This medal
not only honors me, but it honors all these women. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the women of Ivy Manor.”

O
nce again,
Carly
(as the previous book in the series,
Leigh
) involved researching more current history. My memories of the First Gulf War are vivid but civilian. Fortunately, I was
able to tap into the military memories of women who’d served in the First Gulf War or soon after. But I found a couple of
pitfalls in writing current history.

First, people were likely to contradict me if their individual experiences didn’t match those of my characters. Second, it
is difficult to get eyewitness reports. Many people don’t like to share their memories for various reasons, so it’s difficult
to find written sources on this war. Most of the sources were written for children and teenagers, not adults. It’s as if the
accepted historical perspective on the event hasn’t been settled yet.

Since I have no firsthand military recollections, I have based all the events depicted in
Carly
on personal experiences of former soldiers, male and female. If you’re a veteran and your experiences in the military and
in the First Gulf War don’t jibe with Carly’s, please don’t discount what I have written. When I tailored those recollections
of other soldiers and portrayed them in Carly’s life, I hope I did so both accurately and vividly.

Finally,
Carly
—unlike the first three books of the series—covers only one very eventful year in my heroine’s life. Carly is just seventeen
throughout the book. Therefore, she has time only to experience her first bittersweet love. I’d already begun imagining Carly’s
future, but I ran out of pages!

I hope you’ve enjoyed this series, The Women of Ivy Manor, as much as I have enjoyed researching and writing it. Please let
me hear from you at: [email protected] or P.O. Box 864, Woodruff, WI 54568. Drop by my Web site:
www.BooksbyLynCote.com
.

Just a correction for those who read
Bette:
On the dedication page, my father-in-law’s name was misspelled. He was Orville “Jum” [sic] Cote, not “Jim.” “Jum” was short
for “Jumbo,” his childhood nickname.

Sorry, Jum.

1. The effect of truth versus secrets is a forceful theme in
   Carly
   . Should Leigh have told her daughter the unvarnished truth about her biological father? If so, how and when?
   
2. My generation, the baby boomers, has also often been called the “sandwich generation.” Why do you think this situation has evolved? (A hint: think life expectancy.) Was this true for Leigh—was she “sandwiched”?
   
3. Have you ever been in a situation like Carly’s in boot camp? Did anyone ever make you the target of bullying or gossip? How did you handle it—or wish you’d handled it?
   
4. If you’ve read all four books, compare and contrast how each generation, starting with Lily Leigh and Chloe, clashed with the next. What caused problems between mothers and daughters? What created harmony?
   
5. Every action brings consequences. What consequences did Carly experience from her kidnapping? How did she try to deal with those consequences?
   
6. Why do you think Carly enlisted? Explain your reasons.
   
7. In my humble opinion, the way to true peace is to be honest with yourself, genuine with others, and open and humble with God. Consider each of the Women of Ivy Manor: what resulted when each lived up to this—or didn’t?
   
8. How did Lorelle’s life differ from her father Frank’s and her great-grandmother Minnie’s?
   
9. Besides the heroine, which of the characters in this book did you enjoy most? Discuss the same for each previous book.
   
10. Are there any characters in the previous books that you wished you’d read more about? Why?