Chain Reactions Page 8

  “I did.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “I wouldn’t turn down a glass of water.”

  Brooke collected the empty water bottle from the night table, filled it with fresh water from the refrigerator, and returned. She grabbed a couple of pillows, helped Nora into a more comfortable position, and then handed her the water bottle.

  “Oh, that’s good. Whets the whistle, and a plastic water bottle is a much better idea than a glass. Good thinking.”

  “Thanks. How about some food?”

  Nora shook her head.

  “Do you want to get up?”

  “Not just yet. Come. Pull up a chair and sit with me.”

  Brooke made sure she sat at an angle that made it easy for Nora to see her without having to turn her head. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Seems everyone’s got questions these days. Well, I’ve got nothing but time.” Nora winked. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything,” she answered honestly.

  Nora chuckled. “We don’t have that much time. Narrow it down a bit and I’ll see what I can do.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. If she started by asking about something as clearly emotionally fraught and personal as Nora’s lengthy absence from Diana’s life or who this Mary person was, Nora might shut down. I wouldn’t blame her.

  “What brought you to Dana-Farber?”

  “That’s easy. Sid.”

  “Sid? As in Sidney Farber?”

  “The same.” Nora’s gaze took on a faraway look. “He wrote this magnificent paper in 1948, for which he was excoriated. But I found his research and hypothesis fascinating. I believed he really was on to something. I wrote him a letter. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. We exchanged research notes and ideas for years. He asked me many times to come and work with him. Many times, I refused.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  Nora’s smile turned into a pained frown, making Brooke sorry she’d asked the question.

  “I lost a patient—someone I’d grown to care about over the years—and I realized that I needed to come home and get a fresh start.”

  “What year was that?”

  “1972, the year Diana was born, and the year before Sid passed away. It was ironic, really. He was the reason I came, and then he was gone. He had a massive heart attack and died at his desk.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Honestly, I can’t imagine him dying any other way. He was driven by his work and helping the children.” She took another pull from the water bottle. Her voice was growing hoarse.

  “Am I tiring you out?”

  “No. I’m enjoying the trip down memory lane. It’s been forever since I’ve thought about these things.”

  “You mentioned Diana being born in 1972.”

  “She was a beautiful baby—had a shock of light blond hair and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. They didn’t really turn hazel until later. I held her when she was just hours old.”

  The love in Nora’s eyes melted Brooke’s heart. “She told me you were the reason she became a scientist. You got her excited about learning by coming up with experiments for the two of you to do.”

  “That’s right. She was whip-smart and inquisitive. If I showed her once how to do something, she could replicate it on her own. Remarkable, really. I knew she was destined for great things.”

  Brooke saw her opening. “I hope I’m not overstepping. Diana also told me you left when she was ten and she never heard from you again. I can see how much you care for her. I can’t imagine you simply disappearing like that without good reason.”

  Nora’s brow creased; a pained expression was etched in her eyes and in the lines around her mouth. “She told you that?”

  Brooke knew she needed to tread carefully. “Grudgingly, and then only because I was shocked that she was unaware of your accomplishments and professional work.”

  “What else did she tell you?”

  “Nothing. She said she didn’t have any answers.”

  “Mmm.”

  “If I might say so, even if you never share with me, I think it would mean a lot to Diana if she understood what happened.”

  Nora closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The rattle in her chest was pronounced. When she opened her eyes again, they held a profound sadness. “I promised her an explanation and I intend to give it to her when she returns this weekend.”

  “That’s great. I really think it will help her. She seems so…”

  “Lost,” Nora supplied.

  “Yes.”

  “On some level, she’s still that hurt little girl. She seems to have created a wall around her heart.”

  Brooke nodded. It was an apt observation. “Maybe so, but I think she has a hard time maintaining that distance where you’re concerned.”

  “I know, and I fear all of this is causing her great pain. Perhaps I was wrong to have Charles reach out to her. Perhaps—”

  “No. If I know one thing, it’s that she’ll look back and treasure the time she has left with you.”

  “Oh, dear. I certainly hope you’re right.”

  “Just be honest with her. I think she needs to know the truth, whatever that is.”

  Tears formed on Nora’s lashes. “Perhaps so.” Her eyelids began to droop. “Perhaps so.”

  Brooke rose, removed the extra pillows, and pulled the blanket higher so that Nora’s shoulders were covered. “Sweet dreams, sweet Nora.” She crept out of the room, leaving the door open so that she could hear in case Nora needed her.

  She wandered over to the sliding glass doors and gazed out at the water. In just a few short days, she’d become completely drawn into Nora’s world, and to the mystery that was the Lindstrom family history.

  That reminded her, she should text Diana and thank her for the Wi-Fi. She pulled out her phone. “Many thanks for the access to the outside world. The technician was great. Very efficient. You didn’t have to pay for that, you know.” She hit send and watched the blinking cursor. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “You’re very welcome. Hey, we’re still prepping for the start of the semester, no students yet. Would it be okay if I showed up tomorrow?”

  She smiled. “You bet! Nora will be so excited.” She hit send and then thought of something else she should’ve said. “BTW, you never need to ask. You know that, right???”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to be in the way…”

  “Never.”

  “Okay, then. See you both tomorrow. Should be there shortly after lunch.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  She stowed the phone in her back pocket, her heart unaccountably lighter.

  Nora tried to breathe deeply and organize her thoughts. It was a wonderful surprise to have Diana back days ahead of schedule and yet, she hadn’t anticipated needing to entertain Diana’s question about her absence this soon.

  She leaned forward and allowed Diana to fuss with the pillow that supported her back. She’d relocated from the bed to the couch. If they were going to have this discussion, Nora would be damned if it was going to be while she lay in bed like an invalid.

  “Is that better?”

  “Fine, thank you.”

  “Are you sure you’re comfortable enough?”

  “Positive.”

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  Nora stilled Diana’s busy hands. “I’ve got everything I need. Brooke and I have fallen into a very comfortable routine these past few days. She helped me shower before you arrived, made me lunch, and got me all settled.”

  “Why isn’t she here?” Diana moved away and sat in the chair.

  “I asked her to give us this time alone. She only snuck out the back way when we heard your car pull up.” Nora studied Diana’s face. There was something indefinable in her expression whenever the topic turned to Brooke. Interesting.

  “I assure you, she’s doing a fabulous job. I couldn’t ask for a better nurse
or companion.”

  “I’m sure she is. I’m glad.”

  “She’s a lovely woman, isn’t she?”

  A blush crept up Diana’s neck and stained her cheeks red. “Mm-hmm.”

  Nora cocked her head to the side. Well now. Could it be? No time for that at the present, old girl. Right now, while she had the energy, she needed to address the skeleton in the closet.

  She sucked in a breath that resulted in a coughing jag and did nothing to calm her nerves. “You asked me a question when last you were here. I answered but not in sufficient detail to satisfy the hurt you carry within.”

  “Okay.” Diana crossed her arms. “I’m listening.”

  She tried to draw in another deep breath. Where had all the air in the room gone? She chanced a glance at Diana. She deserves to know.

  “In 1977, I was invited by a friend to be part of a contingent of fourteen individuals who attended a historic meeting in the Roosevelt Room of the White House.”

  “Wow! You’ve been to the White House?”

  “Yes.”

  “Impressive.”

  “I thought so too, at the time. The press even covered the event, which came as a complete surprise to me. I assumed the gathering was a private affair.” Nora took a sip of water. “The meeting was more symbolic than anything else, but I was proud to have been a part of it.”

  “What does that have to do with—”

  Nora held up a hand. “I’m getting to that. None of this is easy for me. Please, let me tell the story my own way.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Diana reminded Nora of a contrite child. “As I was saying, this meeting occurred in 1977, when you were five. Five years later, I was present at a party your grandfather threw for some old friends of his that were visiting from Washington, D.C. Bill particularly wanted me to meet one man—a photojournalist of some repute.”

  She folded her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking at the memory of events she had thought long past and buried. “I exchanged pleasantries with him and went on my way to mingle with the other guests. He stared at me for the better part of the evening, to the point where I felt terribly uncomfortable.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I left.” She took another sip of water. “Several days later, I was back in Boston when I received a call from Bill. It was unusual for us to speak that often, and more unusual still for your grandfather to reach out to me at work. He asked me to return to New York for the following weekend. I asked him if everything was all right—specifically, if you were all right. You were the apple of my eye, Diana. If anything had happened to you…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t have borne it.” She paused to gather herself.

  “Bill assured me you were fine and that I would be able to see you if I came.”

  “What did you do?”

  “What did I do? Why, I went, of course.” She cleared her throat. The hoarseness was back, but she was determined to push through it.

  “I arrived a little after lunchtime on Saturday.” She smiled at Diana, picturing the little girl she’d been back then. “I don’t know if you remember, but whenever I would come to visit, I would bring you a brand-new Kennedy half dollar.”

  Diana’s face lit up. “I still have them.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I keep them in my safe-deposit box.”

  She put trembling fingers to her lips. Diana had held onto the keepsakes after all. “I’m glad.”

  “They were a piece of my relationship with you, Aunt Nora. I never planned to part with them.”

  “If you did, I wouldn’t blame you. I have no idea what they’re worth in today’s dollars, but I imagine it would be quite a bit.” Diana shrugged, and Nora pushed onward with the story.

  “In any event, that day when I arrived, you were busy riding your bike, so I didn’t see you right away. Bill came out to meet me as I got out of the car. I could tell by the look on his face that this wasn’t going to be a happy occasion.”

  Diana leaned forward. “I remember that day. I had asked my mother to let me know when you got there, but she didn’t.”

  “I’m not surprised. Your parents came outside and stood behind your grandfather. He had a manila envelope in his hand.” In her mind’s eye, Nora still could see the tableau.

  “Are you all right?”

  “What?”

  Diana knelt in front of her. “You’re crying.”

  “I am?” She brushed her fingers across her cheek. They came away wet. She accepted the tissue Diana handed her and blotted her eyes.

  “Maybe we should stop,” Diana said.

  Nora patted her hand. “No. I need to finish this. I’ll be fine.”

  Diana wasn’t mollified. She remained rooted to the spot.

  “Anyway, your grandfather waved that envelope in front of my face. He asked me if I knew what it was. I told him of course I didn’t.” She balled up the tissue in her fist. “He opened the envelope and slid something out of it. It was a picture.” She swallowed hard and stared off into the distance.

  “Bill stuck it under my nose. It was so close I had to back up to see it.” She wiped away another tear. “The picture was of me at that White House meeting from five years earlier—the gathering I’d naively thought was private. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “What did that have to do with anything?”

  “That man from the party the previous week was the one who’d taken the picture. He told your grandfather he knew I’d looked familiar to him, so he went back and searched through batches of photographs from old assignments until he came upon this photograph. Then he sent it to Bill.”

  “Why was that a problem?” Diana grabbed another tissue and handed it to her.

  Finally, she looked directly at Diana. This was something she’d never intended to discuss, something she’d never wanted to reveal. People of her generation simply didn’t speak of it. And yet, surely of anyone, Diana would be sympathetic.

  “The historic event at the White House was the first time ever a group of gay men and lesbians had been invited to meet with a representative of the president of the United States.”

  Nora waited and watched as a series of emotions passed across Diana’s face.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Nora sighed. Spell it out, old girl. Be brave.

  “Bill asked me point-blank if I had been at that meeting with those people. I told him I had. He asked me if I was with them. I said I was. Then he asked me if I was…” Her voice was practically a whisper. “…one of those sexual deviates.”

  Diana gasped. “That’s what Grandpa called them?”

  She nodded. “His tone of voice was so dismissive. Something within me snapped. I told him that if by that he meant that I was a lesbian, then yes, I was.” She couldn’t bear to look at Diana now. Instead, she gazed out the window at a cloud as it drifted by.

  “He said he wouldn’t have some sick, twisted queer hanging around his granddaughter, and he forbade me ever to see you again.” Her voice broke on a sob. She fought for breath, determined to finish this once and for all.

  “That was when you rode up and jumped off your bike. You grabbed me around the legs as Bill shoved me back toward the car. I-I didn’t want to make a scene. I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

  “It’s okay,” Diana said. She took her hand.

  “I bent down and told you I loved you, and that you’d always find me in your heart. Your father pried you off my pant leg. You wouldn’t let go.” She couldn’t see through her tears. “I couldn’t bear to see your heart breaking like that, even as my own heart broke. And that was the last time you saw me.”

  She struggled for air.

  “It’s okay now. Relax, Aunt Nora. Breathe. Please, just breathe.”

  “I tried,” she said. “As God is my witness, I tried to get them to change their minds—to let me see you. I sent letters and cards, but nothing worked. I’m sorry, Diana. I’m so, so sorry.”

  �
��Shh. It’s all right, Aunt Nora. It’s all right.”

  But Nora knew the truth. It wasn’t all right. It never had been, and she could never make it so.

  Diana shifted slightly. Her left arm was falling asleep where Aunt Nora’s bony shoulder blade rested against it. She didn’t dare move, though, lest she wake her.

  Aunt Nora was a lesbian. Correction. Aunt Nora was a loving, doting great-aunt, banished by her family and cut out like a cancer simply because she preferred women.

  Diana swallowed around the lump in her throat. Poor Aunt Nora. What must it have been like for her all those years ago? By Diana’s calculation, Aunt Nora would’ve been sixty-four when that confrontation took place. How long had she known she was a lesbian? She’d been at that White House meeting in 1977, so certainly she’d known then. But surely she must’ve had a life before that?

  As much as Diana wanted to ask all of these questions out loud, she’d seen how hard it had been for Aunt Nora even to say as much as she already had. As long as she lived, she never would forget Aunt Nora’s anguished expression and the fear and shame that practically radiated from every pore of her being.

  With her free hand, she fished her phone out of her pocket. She clicked on the Google app and typed with her thumb. White House meeting 1977 lesbian. She clicked on the first entry. “White House Meeting of 1977.” She read the 2007 press release celebrating the thirtieth anniversary of the historic meeting, including quotes from Midge Costanza, the aide to President Carter who had arranged the meeting.

  When she finished reading, she clicked on the accompanying image. A large group of mostly men and a sprinkling of women sat around a massive rectangular table. She imagined the woman at the near end was Midge Constanza. She tried to enlarge the image to see the other participants. Would she recognize Aunt Nora among the faces? Was that her, third from the right? It was impossible to tell from the thumbnail-sized picture. She followed a link to more images, but the link was broken.

  Nora stirred, and Diana quickly closed down the screen.

  “Goodness. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. Have I been out long?” Nora struggled to sit up.

  “Let me help you.” She gently lifted Nora so she was sitting upright against the back of the couch. She searched her face. “Are you all right? Can I get you something? Water? Food?”