Guardian of Eden (24 page)

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Authors: Leslie DuBois

BOOK: Guardian of Eden
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When we arrived, Greg and Holly were calmly holding each other on the floor of the dining room, while Thomas’ body grew cold in the kitchen.

We took them in for questioning. Neither would talk. Then the Whitman lawyers arrived and prepared a statement on Holly’s behalf. Greg didn’t have a lawyer. Before I knew it, Greg was confessing to pre-meditated murder and claimed to have acted alone. He told police that Holly had nothing to do with it and that she didn’t even know what he had planned. When I asked for a motive, he said that Holly was pregnant with his child and that Thomas wouldn’t let them get married.

I didn’t believe him for a second. I knew the murder had something to do with the abuse, but what could I do? I didn’t have any evidence and Holly wasn’t talking. I even suspected that the baby might be Thomas’, but I hoped I was wrong. Thankfully, I was.”

My hands were shaking and my mouth was dry. This was the reason, the logical explanation I’d been seeking, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. I knew there had to be some sort of terrible secret in my parents' past, but I never expected it to be as awful as incest. A gnawing pain grew in my gut. Pain from the guilt of how I had treated my mother and pain for the agony my mother must have gone through. I understood her so much better now.
All her life she’d been trying to escape her father’s abuse by running into the arms of no-good men or by emptying bottles of alcohol and drugs.
If I had known this, if I had known the truth, maybe I could have helped her in some way.

“Do you want something to drink, son?” he offered noticing my distress.

“No, I think I better…I think I’m going to…I have to go.” I had to get out of there. I couldn’t breathe. I bolted off the couch and headed for the door as Mr. Lawson offered words of consolation and invited me to stay for lunch.

I went outside hoping the cold December wind would keep the tears at bay, but it didn’t.

Chapter 22: Forbidden Love

 

When I arrived at
Catolby
Prison, my father was waiting in the visitor’s area pacing. I was an hour and a half late and he seemed genuinely concerned. I ducked behind a corner and watched him momentarily. He seemed so different to me now. The amount of love it took for him to sacrifice his life for my mother touched me. I just didn’t understand why he didn’t tell me the true circumstances of the murder earlier. I’ve grown up ashamed of my father and afraid I would turn out like him. Now I admired him. I wanted to run up, give him a hug, and call him ‘dad’ for the first time. I wanted to thank him for saving my mother’s life and giving her a chance for a normal existence. But I didn’t. I think the thought of such a public display of affection with my father embarrassed me. So, instead, I casually walked over to the table and began setting up the chess board.

“Where have you been? I thought you were in an accident or something. You know you really shouldn’t be driving Corbin’s car without a license.”

“I’m sorry I’m late. I…I had to make a stop.” Afraid my face would give away what I now
knew,
I looked directly at the board refusing to make eye contact with him.

“You had to make a stop where? Who do you know in North Carolina?” He continued to stare at me while I tried to arrange the pieces in the same places they were a month ago. I could feel his eyes drilling into my soul searching for the truth. He knew something wasn’t right. I decided I needed to change the subject.

“Will you tell me how you and Holly met?”

The question instantly put a smile on my father’s face as he probably replayed the encounter in his mind. He looked off into the distance wistfully and thought for a while.

“The summer after I turned 15,” he began finally, “while all of my friends were out playing basketball, I got a job as a landscaper so I could earn some extra money. No, I didn’t want to buy my first car or anything. I wanted to go to space camp in Florida. God, I was a nerd.” My father chuckled for a moment. I smiled as well realizing I was more like my father than I’d thought. “Anyway, the company I worked for was doing this huge landscaping project for the Whitman family. It was scheduled to take five or six weeks to complete. My first day there, I notice this amazingly beautiful but sad girl staring down at us from her bedroom window. I asked some of the other young guys I worked with who she was and they said things like, ‘Don’t even think about it. She’s Thomas Whitman’s daughter, she’s rich and unattainable, and she never talks to anyone anyway.’

“But they completely misinterpreted my intentions. I didn’t want to hit on her or anything. I just wanted to make her smile. I thought a girl that beautiful should never be sad. So, after work, I took some of the flowers we had cut down and arranged them into a bouquet. I snuck up to her room and left them at her door. I did this every day for a week. Then one day she caught me. She seemed really suspicious and defensive at first as she asked me what I wanted from her. I told her that I didn’t want anything, that I only wanted to see her happy. She stared at me with utter confusion as I reiterated the fact that all I wanted was to see her smile. Then a slow, timid smile lit up her face. I gave a dramatic bow and thanked her for such an honor. She smiled even more brightly and giggled. As I turned to walk away, we both heard footsteps. She grabbed my arm and pulled me into her room, just as her father entered the hallway.”

My father stopped speaking then stared at the table for a while. The pleasant wistful look on his face disappeared at just the mention of Holly’s father. I wondered if he noticed something was wrong between them on that first encounter.

He cleared his throat and continued, “Before long, we were inseparable. We would meet in town and go to the movies, take long walks in the woods, have picnics by the lake. It was the best summer of my life.”

It sounded like my father wanted to end the story there, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know when he figured out that Thomas was a molester. So I asked, “Did she meet Grandma Jean? When did you meet her family?”

My father got an uncomfortable look on his face. He rubbed his forehead as if he was getting a headache. He seemed to be weighing how much information he wanted to reveal to me. He was silent so long I feared he would cut off the conversation. Then he said, “I, of course, was nervous about introducing her to my mother. We were poor and we lived in a not so good neighborhood, but Holly said she didn’t care. She said she’d love me no matter what. And she did. In fact, she would come to our dingy little apartment quite often and just hang out.”

“What happened when you met her parents?” I asked.

“They almost had a joint heart attack when Holly brought me home for dinner one night.” He chuckled again, but I don’t think it was because he found the situation humorous. I think it was a defense mechanism. He wanted to hide how much their reaction probably hurt him. “They tried to be polite and pretend like my color didn’t matter, but I could tell it did. Pretty soon, Holly wouldn’t be able to see me because she had cotillion practice, or piano practice, or tennis lessons or she had to meet with a tutor. It was pretty obvious what was happening, but Holly wouldn’t stand for it. When school started, we would email each other all day. She even bought me a cell phone so we could keep in touch. Sometimes we would skip school and meet somewhere so we could be together. We felt like Romeo and Juliet.”

“So when did you find out that Thomas….” I didn’t quite know how to put it. I didn’t know how to come out and ask him when he realized my grandfather was a sexual predator.

“That Thomas what?” he asked with suspicion.

“That he…you know.”

My father paused and stared at me. He knew I knew something. Then it hit him. “You spoke to Peter, didn’t you?” He sighed as he rested his head in his hands. “I told her forbidding you to see him wouldn’t work.” He stood up from the table and paced the floor. After a while, he shook his head and sat back down. He must have realized it was fruitless to lie to me now.

“One night, we were in Holly’s room talking. Thomas came home unexpectedly and I hid in her closet. I saw him come in and…and kiss her like a father shouldn’t kiss his daughter. I froze. I didn’t know what to do. I should have jumped out of that closet right then and…” My father closed his eyes and shook his head as if trying to shake the memory from his mind. “But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything. I felt so…powerless. I hated myself.

“Holly tried to deny what was going on, but I wouldn't let her lie to me. I’d seen the signs all along. Something inside me knew it wasn’t right the way he looked at her and touched her even when I was around, but I didn’t want to accept what could be happening when I wasn’t there. Now I couldn’t deny it any longer. After hours of convincing, she finally told me the truth and the next day we went to the police.”

“But the police didn’t do anything,” I volunteered.

He shook his head then said, “After the ordeal with the police and the lawsuit, Holly’s parents sent her to boarding school. I was actually relieved. We were able to keep in touch and continue our romance, but she was away from her father. It gave me time to think of a way get her out of the situation.”

“So when did you decide you had to take care of things yourself. When did you decide –

My father’s expression changed. He took in a deep breath and straightened his back. “That’s it, we’re done here,” he said, standing.

“Why? What’s so bad about me knowing the truth? What’s so bad about me knowing that my grandfather…” Once again I couldn’t finish the thought.

“You see? That’s what so bad about it.” My father placed his fists on the table and leaned over toward me. “It’s so horrible you can’t even say it out loud. Holly didn’t want to make you live with that thought in your mind. She wanted to spare you from that pain.”

“But now I understand her so much better. I understand you too. I think –”

“You think you understand me? You think you know me now?” My father raised his voice and a few of the other inmates and visitors looked our way. He sat down embarrassed at his outburst and drummed his fingers on the table.


I know what kind of man you are. You’re the kind of man that will sacrifice everything to protect his family and that’s the kind of man I want to be,” I said in a forced whisper. I didn’t want to attract any more attention.

My father paused and looked at me. He jumped out of his seat again, rubbed the back of his neck and paced the floor while shaking his head. He walked in silence for a while until finally he said, “I don’t want you to come back here anymore.”

“But why?”
I asked, bolting out of my seat. I felt like he was punishing me for some reason. I finally felt close to him. I finally felt like we could have a relationship and now he was trying to cut me out of his life.

“I should never have asked you to come. It was selfish. I just wanted to get to know you. I wanted to see my son become a man. But I don’t want to influence you. And I certainly don’t want you admiring me and thinking that murder is an acceptable form of self-preservation.”

“But I don’t think that. I –”

“Garrett, I’ve made my decision. Now leave. I’m taking you off my visitor list and you won’t be able to come back.” I watched as my father turned his back on me and walked away. Then suddenly he turned again and rushed toward me. He swept me up into a bear hug and said, “I love you, son.”

“I love you too, dad.”

I thought my day had gotten as emotional as possible. I never imagined it could get worse.

Chapter 23: Mad Denial

 

When I came into the house, I found my mother clearing the dinner dishes.


Hey, baby, where
ya
been?” she asked cheerily as she continued cleaning while humming a song.

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