The Governor's Sons (52 page)

“I need some fresh air.
 
I’m going to the garden.”
 
Charlene followed the path to stone steps that led to a small garden park on the hospital grounds.
 
It lay a short distance behind the hospital building, situated down in a little valley.
 
Now late in the evening, it sat empty, illuminated by globed gas lamps.

Once in the garden, Charlene walked to a sitting area near a marble statue of three young women. Clothed in diaphanous garments holding hands, the life sized figures elevated on a low pedestal, represented Faith, Hope and Charity.

The strong fragrance of magnolia blossoms hung heavily in the air.
 
Charlene stood with her back to Ash as he approached. She didn’t turn around, but Ash could hear her breathing hard, as she was slightly out of breath.
 
When he was directly behind her she said, “When were you going to tell me Ash?
 
Or were you ever going to tell me--that Harland Hall--is
your
son—yours—and Kitty’s?”

Ash didn’t respond.
 
Only the cicadas singing filled the silence.
 
“How--” the word made no sound, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “How did you know?”

“Every woman has an emotional PhD in matters of the heart.”
 
Charlene turned to look at him.
 
“I put the pieces together, even though I denied it for a long time.
 
But when I saw you fall apart in Betty Jean Hall’s arms, after she mentioned something about not giving birth to Harland—I knew the truth.
 
I couldn’t go on denying it.”
 
Ash looked down and said nothing.
 
“Why couldn’t you trust me, Ash?
 
I know you didn’t rape Kitty.
 
She was the girl you loved—and she died—giving birth to your son.”

Ash still gazed at the ground. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me years ago?”

Ash raised his eyes to Charlene’s. “Because I didn’t want to lose you.
 
Before tonight—knowing that I could’ve lost both my sons—the only other thing I’ve ever been afraid of—is losing you.”
 

“So you lied.”

“Charlene—I swear—other than this, I’ve never lied to you!”

“‘Other than this?’
 
Other than a lie that’s consumed you through our whole marriage—you’ve never lied to me!
 
Go to hell!”

“Charlene,” Ash grabbed her shoulders, “I’m sorry—I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right between us—just—promise you won’t leave me.”

Charlene pulled from his grasp and took a step away. “You never lied to her, did you?”

“Hell, Charlene!
 
At 23 what did I have to hide?
 
Charlene, look, I’m sorry I never told you—but you’ll never know the guilt I carried.
 
I ruined Kitty’s life because she got pregnant.
 
Then she died having my child and I was forced to turn my back on Harland.
 
Charlene, if I hadn’t met you—I don’t know what I would’ve done.
 
I was just so desperate not to lose you—I didn’t want to tell you the truth.”

“What did you ever hide from her?
 
Nothing!
 
And if she’d lived—you would’ve kept her as a mistress even
after
you married me.”

“No!
 
Listen, Charlene—I’ll tell you everything, okay?
 
I loved her!
 
I planned to give up everything for her.
 
I was gonna move to Europe with her so we could be married.
 
Then she died—and my life fell apart.
 
And then I met you.
 
Charlene—I love you—I didn’t want anything to come between us.
 
I didn’t want to lose you then—and I don’t want to lose you now.
 
I need you.”

“You were willing to give up everything—for a black girl?”
 
Charlene seemed stuck on this one point, but Ash didn’t know how to respond.
 
Pushing out an exasperated breath, Charlene quickly shook her head.
 
“I didn’t mean it that way.
 
But—all these years—there’s been another woman between us!”

“What?”

“Since you never told me about—her—about Kitty—you couldn’t let her go!”

“Charlene--she’s never been between us.”

“Then why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me everything?
 
Because you’ve never loved me enough!
 
And still deep in your heart--you love her!
 
You never hid anything from her, so she had all of you!”

“Damn it, Charlene!
 
After she died, I had to hide her memory.
 
I told you as much as I could—as much as I could—that was safe.”

Charlene let out an acrid laugh. “That you loved a girl who died—that barely scratches the surface!
 
What else are you hiding from me?
 
Have you had a
whole
series of affairs the
whole
time we’ve been married?

“Did you ever really even love me, or was I just lucky enough to get you on the rebound?
 
Did I fit the bill of what you were looking for back then?
 
A former beauty queen from a well connected political family—perfect political wife material for a rising politician!”
 
Charlene lowered her eyes.
 
“Now I don’t even know if we’ve ever had a real marriage.
 
And I don’t know if what we do have--can even be saved.”

Ash moved toward her and gently grasped her upper arms.
 
“We have a solid marriage.
 
It doesn’t need to be saved—it’s not even in trouble!”

Charlene looked coldly into her husband’s eyes.
 
“Well, I don’t know what I want to do.”

Ash squeezed her arms firmly.
 
Although he tried to sound in control, he was on the verge of pleading. “Charlene--I’m not gonna let you leave me.”

Again, she pulled away. “
You
won’t let me leave you?” Charlene smirked.
 
“It’s all about control with you, isn’t it?
 
And if you can’t control a situation, you lie about it!”

“Charlene—I—I told you that’s not true—only this!”

“Only this—a lie nearly three decades old!
 
If I want to leave you, I’ll leave.”
 
In the light of the lamps, Ash saw tears glisten as they rolled down her cheeks.
 
“Why didn’t you just tell me from the beginning, Ash?” Charlene spoke almost in a whisper.
 
“I loved you.”

Ash felt like a rug had been pulled from under him.
 
Now, as though flat on his back and helpless, he said, “You
loved
me?
 
Charlene—you still love me, right?”

She took a deep breath and stood tall.
 
“I don’t really know anymore.”
 
Charlene then turned away and walked back to the hospital.

Ash felt his heart drop to his feet.
 
As he stood alone near the three stone figures, he reflected that his wife had no faith in him as a husband, no hope in their marriage, and no charitable spirit of forgiveness toward him.

The next morning, Gavin observed all the commotion around him.
 
He and Harland had been released from the hospital.
 
They stood in front of Clarkstown Memorial, Harland with his mother and two prominent Civil Rights leaders behind him, and Gavin, backed up by his father, mother and sisters.
 
Gavin wasn’t used to being in the forefront of media attention.

A crowd of spectators gathered behind reporters from local newspapers, television and radio stations.
 
They’d questioned Ash briefly, then moved on to Harland.
 

“Do you feel at all deterred from your Civil Rights efforts?” Don Clay, a slim black mustached reporter from
The Crier
asked.
 
He’d been one of the first to arrive on the scene after the explosion.

“Not at all,” Harland answered.
 
He’d already been asked several questions and now chose to end his interview.
 
“I’ve said enough.” He smiled.
 
“The true man of the hour is Gavin Kroth.
 
I owe my life to him.
 
He’s a brave man.”

The reporters immediately turned their microphones, cameras and notepads in Gavin’s direction.
 
“A brave man,” Gavin thought.
 
Dad had even referred to him as a man with guts, and fire in the belly—he wasn’t a kid any more.

A group of teen aged girls in the crowd held up a sign that read “Gavin Kroth, Our Hero!!”
 
To Gavin’s disbelief, he was even being hailed as a hero.
 
The first question asked from a pretty blond reporter was, “Were you ever afraid?”

Gavin smiled.
 
“Never.”

****

In the private dining room of the Governor’s Mansion, JoBeth watched her brother inhale his food.
 
This was his first dinner home from the hospital and all his favorites were served: leg of lamb with mint jelly, mashed potatoes and gravy, asparagus and orange glazed carrots.
 
After Gavin’s favorite dessert, cherry cheese cake, Ash ushered his family into the drawing room for a family meeting.

He closed and locked the pocket doors.
 
JoBeth wasn’t sure what the meeting was about, but she assumed it had to do with increased protection for the family, or something.
 
What happened to Gavin was frightening, but thankfully, he’d been spared—and so had Harland.
 
And ever since the accident, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
 
They’d mutually agreed to put their feelings behind them, but now JoBeth felt a burning desire to be with Harland, regardless of the cost.
 

JoBeth could hear her father talking, but she wasn’t listening.
 
Her mind was a million miles away.
 
“JoBeth?” Ash said.

JoBeth gazed blankly at him.
 
“Yes.”

“I need you to listen to me.
 
What I have to say’s important.”

She smiled.
 
“I’m sorry, Daddy.
 
You’ve got my undivided attention, now.”

Ash cleared his throat.
 
“Okay.
 
I need to tell ya’ll something.
 
I’ve told your mother, and Gavin already knows what I’m about to say.
 
But he doesn’t know the whole story.
 
So I’m gonna tell it all now.
 
It might come as—as a shock.
 
But—in light of what’s happened—I think that now—”

“Daddy, what is it?
 
What’s wrong?” Leigh Ann asked concerned.
 
“You look pale.”

Ash took a deep breath.
 
“Harland Hall—”

“Is Harland alright?” JoBeth asked quickly. “Was there another medical problem, internal bleeding or something?”

Ash paused for a moment. “No, JoBeth, he’s fine.
 
And he—Harland is my son.”

JoBeth felt the blood rush from her face.
 
“I—I must’ve misunderstood you.
 
Did you say—Harland—is your son?”

Leigh Ann clutched her stomach.
 
“You didn’t misunderstand him—that’s what he said.
 
And I think I’m gonna be sick.
 
I mean—the whole incest thing.
 
I just can’t believe it.
 
He’s my brother?”

“Yeah, he’s your brother.” Ash looked down for a moment.
 
“A long time ago—I met a girl named Catherine.
 
She was a Negro girl—I fell in love with her—I wanted to marry her.”

“But you couldn’t,” Leigh Ann said.
 
JoBeth was still too shocked to speak.

“We were gonna move to Europe.
 
But she got pregnant.
 
She died having our baby.
 
And the baby—was Harland. I know it’s hard to believe, but I just hope you’ll forgive me for not telling you sooner.
 
I’m sorry.”

“I think I need to lie down,” JoBeth said, as she tried to stand, but couldn’t.

“Honey,” Charlene said, “is everything okay?
 
Can you accept--”
 

“It’s not that, I’m fine with him being my brother,” JoBeth said. “I just need—a little rest.”

****

Not only had the assassination plot failed, but Libby learned from the six o’clock news that Caldwell was dead.
 
She’d hastily packed a bag to make a getaway.
 
It sat near the door of her apartment.
 
But how could she sneak away?
 
She was being watched.
 
She’d think of something.
 
She’d use her womanly wiles, if necessary.
 
But how?
 
As she began chewing her fingernails, she heard a knock at the door.
 
She stood paralyzed.
 
And soon, the knocking turned to pounding.