Almost a Bride, page 16
* * *
“YOU OKAY? YOU look spooked,” he said, grinning. “All I did was walk in. Didn’t mean to scare you. I haven’t seen that look on your face since the time I snuck up on you in the lighthouse on Halloween the year after we met.”
“Don’t you laugh at me. You know how I am. I should have waited for you before coming up here.” She put her phone in her pocket. “Remind me to charge this thing when I go downstairs. How was your day?”
“A day in the life of a vet. All good. Gavin’s taking a night shift to watch over a post-op dog with a fish identity crisis. Don’t ask. She’s going to make a full recovery.” He frowned and got that dark look in his eyes. The look he got when he wasn’t telling the full story.
“Wow. That sounds scary even without the details.”
“Have you gotten far, here?” he asked, reaching down and petting the kittens.
“Just started.”
He walked over to the stack of boxes.
“Why would she label a box ‘junk’ and then keep it?” he asked.
“Beats me. This one was marked ‘baby clothes,’ so I thought it would be mostly for donation, but it’s all papers and notebooks. It looks like there’s a photo album near the bottom, too.”
Nana had been pretty organized. At least enough to label storage correctly. Gray carried the “junk” box next to her and sat cross-legged on the dusty floor.
“Maybe we’ll find your baby booties in this one, then.” He used a pocketknife to open the several layers of tape that sealed the top seam. “Hmm.”
“What’s that one have in it?’ Mandi craned her neck.
“Looks like manuals, language books... I didn’t know Nana spoke Spanish, French, German...and Vietnamese, Swahili and Arabic? Really? Unless she was in the habit of starting a language and quitting it. One doesn’t typically learn Vietnamese or Swahili on a whim.”
“I didn’t know she was multilingual. I did know she had been to Africa—it’s where she first got hooked on Kenyan coffee, she told me—but I thought she’d gone on a vacation or something. Maybe she studied languages before traveling. You know...like knowing how to ask where the bathroom is.”
“I don’t think so.” He flipped through one of the books. “This isn’t like those quick, everyday-lingo type of travel books.”
She was discovering more about Nana every day. She was feeling like an outsider who didn’t know everything about a person. What was with Gray and, now, Nana? She pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and glanced at him. Maybe it was time she told him about what she’d found. He was going to discover things about Nana up here anyway.
“Gray, I need to tell you something. I found a journal in Nana’s bedside drawer. It was labeled as the second of two, but I never found the first. I think it might be up here.”
“Okay. Do I want to know what it said?”
“There were only two entries in that one. One from the day my mother left us and the other from the day I left you. It was strange. And the first one mentioned two people who had been dear to Nana but who’d died. I’m not sure how. I’m not sure if one was my grandfather or not. She didn’t list names. It sounded a little cryptic, as if she didn’t want anyone to fully understand who or what she was talking about if it were ever found. And on top of that, she had some strange things in her drawer, including a multitool pocketknife that I’d never seen her use before.
Gray stared at her, listening. His forehead creased.
“Well, maybe we’ll find the other journal in these boxes.”
“Yeah, hopefully,” she said.
Mandi took out a thick hardcover notebook from her box. It had nothing on it to indicate it was a journal. She opened it. There inside the cover was “Journal #1” written in faded pencil. The pages were blank, though. She turned toward the middle in search of entries.
“No way.” It had a cutout in the center, the kind of old-fashioned, hide-something-in-a-book secret compartment. There were two black-and-white photos in it, one of Nana, who had to be in her twenties at the time.
“Holy—let me see that.” Gray took the photo and studied it. She wore a traditional Middle Eastern kaffiyeh scarf around her neck and covering her mouth, but her eyes gave her away. She was standing next to two servicemen. “Those are US Marines uniforms from the fifties. And look at the background. The landscape. I’d bet money this photo was taken during the 1958 Lebanon Crisis. What the heck was Nana doing in Beirut with the US military?”
“Let me see.” Mandi took the photo and looked at it again. “I can tell it’s an old war photo, but that’s about it. How can you be sure it’s Lebanon?”
* * *
GRAY SCRATCHED THE back of his neck. His parents had been high school teachers. His mother taught science and his father taught world history. But telling her that would lead to more questions, like about where they taught. Questions he wasn’t supposed to answer.
“Military history was a hobby when I was a kid. You know how teenage boys can be about war. In 1958, President Eisenhower ordered Marine troops to land in Beirut during what was called Operation Blue Bat, to help control political unrest and protect the regime from Soviet influence. That’s just the basics, but the point is, your grandmother was there. I’m still trying to wrap my head around this photo of her.”
“So am I. Did you ever talk military history with her? Did she know you were into it? I never knew this about you...or her.” He quickly directed the conversation back to the photos.
“Forget me. It seems your grandmother was the one who didn’t like talking about her past. Look at this other photo.”
Mandi scooted closer to him. In this one, Nana looked worn and thin but there was steel in her eyes. She stood with her arm around another woman and a man against a lush, jungle backdrop.
“Do you know who they are?” he asked.
“No. I don’t recognize them, but her journal referred to two people who were her most loved, trusted friends. The man...” She looked more closely. “I think he might have my dad’s eyes but I’m not sure. John looks so much like Nana.”
“Look around them, Mandi. The tent they’re in front of. The stuff around them and military markings. That guy back there with the helmet, standing near the jungle.” He looked away from the photo and then at Mandi, as if trying to fit the pieces of a puzzle together. “Mandi, this photograph...this was taken during the Vietnam War. I’d bet my life on it.”
Mandi’s lips parted and she went pale.
“They’re definitely in a jungle. It reminds me of pictures I’ve seen of Vietnam or scenes from movies,” Mandi said, “but you have to be wrong. I mean, I see the photos, but there’s no way she served in the military. She would have told me. Besides, she was a woman. They wouldn’t have sent her to the front lines back then. Unless she was a translator or something? She always encouraged me to be a strong woman and to go after whatever I wanted in life, so why wouldn’t she have told me about her past if she could have served as an example for me? Why not tell me the truth?”
Gray took a deep breath.
“Because maybe she couldn’t, Mandi.”
Who were you, Nana? Gray’s temples were beginning to pound. He wanted so badly to tell Mandi that he had been living a secret, too. That he understood at least part of Nana’s reasoning for keeping her past in the dark. But he couldn’t. Acting on a whim was what got people like him in trouble. He handed Mandi back the photos and pulled out a flat velvet container from the cardboard storage box. Would Nana have told anyone about her past? Maybe not. Gray knew firsthand that sometimes a person’s past stayed in the past. He opened the container. His head buzzed and his mind churned at warp speed. A service medal inscribed with the years 1966–1967 and an accompanying note lay there. He read the paperwork as Mandi lifted the medal and examined it.
“She wasn’t in Vietnam the whole war, Mandi. She was in Bolivia. Look at this newspaper clipping from 1967. Nana really got around.”
He handed the newspaper to her, then wiped his hand across his mouth and jaw. Was this why Nana had taken him under her wing? She wasn’t listed as someone who knew about him...a contact like Sheriff Ryker...but something told him that she must have had a sixth sense about what was going on. Someone with a past like hers would have picked up on the slightest details. She’d have known how to read body language and detect incongruities better than the average person. She would have understood how critical it was to keep his true identity a secret.
“This clipping is about the capture and execution of Che Guevara,” Mandi said. “I don’t get it.”
“Mandi. The CIA played a major role in that operation, as with the other operations she seems to have been a part of. Nana wasn’t serving in the military, directly. Your grandmother worked in intelligence. I believe our sweet little Nana was a government spy.”
Mandi lowered herself to the floor, lay back and held her head.
“Just give me a second,” she said, closing her eyes. “This is too much. It’s you all over again. Keeping secrets from me. The two people I have opened my heart to more than anyone else in my life are the very two who kept secrets close to theirs. I say kept for Nana, because she’s gone now and I won’t ever have the chance to ask her questions and she won’t ever get the chance to tell me her full story. But you, Gray? You’re still keeping them. Aren’t you? I can feel it but I can’t understand why. What are you? Ex-CIA like my grandmother? Did she know this about you?”
“Heck no. I’m not CIA and never was. I’d swear that on her grave. Mandi, you have always had not only my heart but my soul, too. All of it.”
He didn’t deny the secrets, but he was telling her the truth. It didn’t matter what his name had been in the past or where he’d lived or what he’d done, his heart and soul were constant. His soul was the one part of him that was his true self no matter what. The part of him that had never changed, other than to let her in.
It was a lot for both of them to process. He still couldn’t tell her about his past. It wasn’t safe to do so, especially after his close call today. But what if someday she found out like this? After his death. After a life of not sharing the whole of him with her. He’d asked her if she trusted him. This whole thing reeked of the Red Riding Hood and Big Bad Wolf story, even if he hadn’t harmed her grandmother. He’d lied to them both. Worked his way into their lives. Put them at risk, nonetheless. Sure, Nana had kept secrets about her life, but they were all in her past. Gray was actively, consciously living a lie and letting them get tangled in it. He swallowed back the bitter taste of guilt then reached into the box again. Mandi just stared at him from where she lay.
He rummaged through more evidence and held up a love letter with names he didn’t recognize. It was one of many between someone named Blue Bird and Spider Lace. Code names. He held up the letter for Mandi to see. “Do these code names ring a bell?”
She sat up, looked at the note and shook her head.
“No, but that’s Nana’s handwriting.”
There were still more boxes. He was thinking there was a pretty good chance that the one marked “doll collection” didn’t really contain dolls. You sneaky woman, Nana.
“Gray.” She sounded worried. He put the letter back in the box.
“Yes? You sure you’re going to be alright?”
“I know I’ve seen my birth certificate and I even saw my dad’s once, but I can’t help but wonder—”
Gray got on his knees and rubbed his hands on her ankles. He knew where she was going with this, and he knew how easily the government could issue a fake birth certificate if they wanted to. He had one. But he was sure that wasn’t the case here.
“Mandi, have you looked at your dad and Nana? And yourself? Trust me, you’re related. Even strangers would know that at first glance.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s hard to take this all in, though. And I’m still wondering if the man in the photo was my grandfather.”
He patted her ankles and stood, then offered her a hand and pulled her up.
“I know,” he said. “There’s more stuff in this box. We can keep looking if you’re up to it.”
She started looking through her box as he went through his. Some of the items were just old magazine editions, a vintage sweater or two and what looked like old souvenirs from various countries.
“If she was a spy, why would she have all this stuff saved?”
“Most of it isn’t classified anymore. Maybe it was given to her later on. Maybe, for safety...just in case...she decided to keep it quiet. Who knows? Sometimes it’s hard to part with memories that are an integral part of you...of your history. Or perhaps, since you said she lost people she cared about, maybe she was torn between memories and letting go.”
“Maybe. I still can’t help but wonder about my grandfather...the father John never knew. I have a strong feeling he was the man in the photo with the other woman. I just know these have to be the two friends she spoke of in her journal. The two she considered to be family.”
Gray pulled an envelope from between the pages of an old calendar and opened it. He held up a photo of Nana and her same two friends sitting around a bistro table with smiles on their faces. Nana sat in the middle and both of her friends were pointing at her belly. Mandi took it from him, then glanced at the backside. A note was written in faded ink in the upper corner.
Our last photo before I was sent home pregnant. They were supposed to follow after a few more months in Vietnam. They never made it out alive. My child will never know his father. Of all the things I’ve done in life, I don’t know if I can go on without them in my life or if I can raise this child alone.
Mandi covered her mouth and went to the window. She stared outside for a few silent seconds.
“So that was my grandfather. Nana did share something in confidence, Gray. I was eighteen at the time. I don’t think she’d care if you knew at this point and I don’t know what my father knows or doesn’t know. Nana said she never got married, which I can understand after seeing the life she led. But not being married, according to her, made life hard for a while because she was older than most women raising kids at the time and she was doing it alone. She told people her “husband” died at war to avoid gossip and stigma. That’s all I knew until recently. I feel like we should still respect that part of her history. Keep it to ourselves because, although times have changed, I don’t know what the community knows and I want people to remember her the way she wanted them to see her. She was private. She wanted her actions...advocacy...to be what stood out. Not her personal life.”
He nodded and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything. We’ll need to move all of this somewhere else, though.” He went over and got the box labeled “doll collection.” “This might have more answers in it.”
Mandi turned and joined him.
“Oh. I did have a lot of dolls in elementary school. I got rid of them by the seventh grade. I thought they were given away.”
Gray raised a brow at her.
“Didn’t you notice the other clever box labels? I guarantee you there aren’t dolls in here.” He cut the tape and looked inside.
“I told you,” she said. “That was my favorite baby doll because you could give her a baby bottle of water and it would actually pee out into her diaper. Oh, and the horse figurines. I was so into them because of the wild horses of the Outer Banks.”
Gray shook his head. There really were dolls in the box.
The doorbell rang and then someone knocked loudly.
She put the dolls down and they both looked at the room and open boxes.
“Were you expecting someone?” Gray asked.
“No. Let’s lock up. We can come back to deal with all this later.” She closed the window and they each picked up a kitten from the box they were napping in. Mandi followed him, stopping briefly at an upstairs hall window to look outside.
“Gray, it’s my dad. I don’t want to deal with him right now. I’m sure it’s about seeing us last night on your motorcycle and this house and who knows what else.”
“Keep quiet and follow me.” They reached the living room and placed the kittens in the playpen, then he filled their food and water while she ran upstairs and locked the attic door. The doorbell rang twice, back-to-back. Gray took Mandi’s hand. “They’ll be okay,” he whispered.
Windy and Storm snuggled on the blanket and fell asleep. Gray slid the balcony door open and held a finger to his lips. He pulled her outside and closed the door behind him, quickly locking it because he didn’t trust John not to snoop.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? Just like when I first arrived in Turtleback and you were twenty. We’re ditching your dad.”
* * *
MANDI HELD ON to Gray’s hand and ran as hard as she could. They didn’t dare laugh until they were halfway to his place and out of earshot. She stumbled in the sand and couldn’t stop cracking up.
“No, no. We can’t stop yet. Hurry, he’s behind us,” Gray said.
“Is he really?” She looked over her shoulder as they cleared the grassy dune to his property and headed for the lighthouse. “I don’t see him,” she panted.
“He’s not, but I got you to go faster,” Gray laughed. She looked at him in shock, then broke out laughing again. He unlocked the lighthouse and let her duck inside ahead of him, then bolted the door behind them.
