Authors: Debbie Macomber
Between Friends (14 page)
I realize all this talk of the future is premature, as you said yourself, but you were wise to bring it up. I value your honesty and your willingness to confront this now, before we invest our emotions in a relationship that’s headed down a dead-end road.
Perhaps the best way to close this letter is to let you know I’ve enjoyed your friendship these last few months.
God bless you, Lesley. I think we could have recaptured what we found in each other that day in Hawaii. The question is, would it have been the best thing for either one of us? You believe it wouldn’t, and I suppose you’re right. I have my work, and you have your children and the promise of a career.
When we first met in 1967, I found you smart and
sweet and oh, so genuine. I was impressed by your honesty and your wisdom. That hasn’t changed. Fondly,
C. Greenberg
***
December 11, 1980
Dear Daddy, Someone shot John Lennon. I love his music. I’m really bummed and so are all my friends. School is all right, I guess. David is the brain
in the family. Mom doesn’t have a boyfriend any more. Lindy
1982
Jillian’s Journal
January 1, 1982
Dearest Nick and Daddy,
Happy New Year. Leni Jo is three, and Monty and I would very much like to have a second child, but it just doesn’t seem to be happening. The medical advancements in infertility are incredible, but they’re expensive, time-consuming and they have a negative effect on my emotions.
Monty claims he’s content with one child if I am. The problem is, I was raised an only child and although I appreciate the advantages, I’m also well aware of the disadvantages. I’d so hoped for more children. I envy Lesley her siblings. Even now, as adults, they remain close, although Lesley and Mike are the only two who still live in Pine Ridge.
At this point, Monty and I have decided to leave the matter of more children in God’s hands, and I’m comfortable with that. I couldn’t have imagined myself making a statement like this even a year ago. It’s the kind of thing Lesley has often said and I’ve usually ignored. In fact, as I ease into my thirties, I’m more and more comfortable with the subject of God. The anger I felt toward Him (Her ?) isn’t as strong as it was during my college years. Lesley’s never questioned her belief in a Supreme Being who guides our lives. She’s so confident, so secure in her faith. I wish I could be more like her in that regard, but I’m not.
As Leni Jo grows up, I find myself thinking more seriously about attending Mass again. Perhaps I will. That would make you happy, wouldn’t it, Daddy?
Lesley continues to thrive. Her ex is still in Alaska, although the pipeline work is complete. Buck seems to have a job of sorts, but he isn’t making the big money he was a couple of years ago. I don’t know exactly what he’s doing and I don’t care. Unfortunately, the family’s financial welfare still depends on Buck, although that’s less and less the case since Lesley will be working full-time by summer. I’m so proud of the way she’s managed to keep up with school, her job and the children’s needs. She’ll graduate in June and I’m hoping to surprise her and show up for the ceremony.
It’s hard to believe David’s in high school. What’s not hard to believe is the fact that he’s getting top grades. He reminds me so much of Lesley at this age.
Lindy is just the opposite. I worry about her. Lesley told me at Christmas that her fourteen-year-old daughter has driven her to her knees in prayer. The two of them are constantly at odds. She’s the most like Buck in attitude, and the kid knows exactly what buttons to push to upset Lesley. The “guilt” one appears to be her favorite, and she uses it frequently.
Dougie is now called Doug or Douglas, and he’s in junior high. Christopher is nearly eight and crazy about sports. He’s the team’s top soccer player and shows real promise as an athlete. No matter how tight her school and work schedule is, Lesley makes an effort to attend his games. Dr. Milton’s been very good about allowing her the flexibility to do this. I think Lesley’s found herself a wonderful boss. Mom tells me he’s a respected OB/GYN and is well liked by the hospital staff.
I was disappointed when Lesley broke off the relationship with Cole Greenberg. Apparently it was a mutual decision, but Lesley hasn’t really said much about it. I suspect she’s in love with Cole, but couldn’t see involving him in her life with four children and their constant demands.
I wish I knew what she was thinking. I’d write Cole myself if I could be assured Lesley would speak to me again. She’d consider that a betrayal and I would never do anything to threaten our friendship.
The best news has to do with Monty. He’s leaving the Justice Department and interviewing with several firms. It’ll be nice to have a husband again! I swear he’s nearly worked himself to death.
I still hate leaving Leni Jo every day, but I enjoy my job, too. Law is exciting work. It seems that I read about a landmark case at least once a week. I’d love to have been in court when Lee Marvin was sued for “palimony.” Actress Carol Burnett’s libel suit against the National Enquirer was in the headlines for months. This year it’s going to be the deregulation of AT&T. President Carter opened the door when he deregulated the airlines. While I enjoy the challenge of being an attorney, I love being a wife and mother, too. It’s finding the balance between my job and my role as Monty’s wife and Leni Jo’s mother that has proven to be the most difficult.
Dad, you’ll be reassured to learn that Mom is doing very well. She’s grown accustomed to living alone and seems emotionally stronger with every year. I’m proud of her and I know you would be too. She’s handling her own financial affairs now. I check the numbers every three or four months, and so far everything looks great. She’s willing to travel alone, too. You can thank Leni Jo for that. These days Mom hops on a flight to New York with barely a pause. I can remember when she wouldn’t dream of calling a cab on her own, let alone navigating her way around an airport.
Jim and Angie had a second child last year, Nick. A little girl this time, and you’ll be as excited as I was to learn that they named her Nickie Lynn after you and me. I wept when they told me. We’re part of this child, Nick, in her name and in the family stories she’ll grow up hearing. I look forward to being her “aunt.”
Jim and I stay in touch, mostly by phone. (As Jim is quick to tell me, he isn’t much of a letter-writer.) It’s always good to hear his voice. He sees me as a big sister and I consider it an honor that he would.
This is going to be a good year, I can feel it already.
Remember how much I love you both.
Jillian
***
We are pleased to announce that
Montgomery Gordon,
has joined the Beckham Law Firm.
Montgomery Gordon is available
for mediation and arbitration,
consultation and legal representation
in business, real estate and civil matters.
Beckham, DiGiovanni, Zimmermann,
Johnson & Blayne
652 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10021
***
Park West Medical
284 Central Park West,
Suite 1A
New York City, NY 10024
February 19, 1982
Dear Mr. Gordon, The blood test results are back from your annual physical with Dr. Lyman. Your cholesterol count is
342. Dr. Lyman requests a follow-up appointment.
Please contact our office between the hours of 9 a.m.
and 4 p.m. to schedule your visit.
We look forward to seeing you again soon.
Sincerely,
Joan McMahon, R.N.
***
March 7, 1982
Dear Buck,
I’m writing because I’m at my wits’ end with Lindy. I simply can’t control her. Last Friday night, I happened to check on her and discovered she wasn’t in bed. She’d crawled out her bedroom window and didn’t return until four the next morning. She was pretty surprised to find me sitting in her room when she climbed back in. I have no idea who she was with or where she went. She refuses to answer both questions. Our daughter is only fourteen years old.
I’ve restricted her comings and goings and taken away phone privileges, but all that’s done is create more friction between us. I don’t know how to reach her. Perhaps you can succeed where I’ve failed.
I’d appreciate your trying.
Thank you.
Lesley
***
March 9, 1982
Dear Daddy, Mom is being totally unreasonable and mean. She wouldn’t let me phone you and she’s forcing me to stay in my room. This is child abuse. I can’t take it any more. You’ve got to do something. I can’t live with her.
David is so perfect. He’s gag-me perfect. I don’t get along with Mom, and I never have. Let me come live with you, all right? I won’t be any trouble, I promise. You’ve got to help me, Dad. You’ve just got to.
Love,
Lindy
Your only daughter
***
April 6, 1982
My dearest Monty,
If you’re wondering why your wife is sending you flowers, think back two weeks to our weekend trip to Boston. Can you guess? If you need a further hint... I suggest you schedule time away from the office eight and a half months from now.
There should be maternity leave for fathers! If you don’t know a good lawyer who can argue the case, I just might.
Hurry home! We have some celebrating to do.
Your loving, pregnant wife.
***
Lesley’s Journal
May 6, 1982 I saw Cole on the evening news tonight. He’s in
Port Stanley on the Falkland Islands, waiting for the approaching British fleet. When I saw him, I felt as if someone had punched me hard. Everything around me started to fade. Thankfully Christopher was there and brought me a glass of water.
My head can’t deal with the romantic fantasy I’ve built in my heart. I’m raising four children on my own, and I’m in love with a man I only saw once for a few hours when I was still a teenager. It doesn’t make sense to feel this way about him. No man could possibly live up to the cherished memories I have of Cole. I think I’ve needed that fantasy version more than reality. After being married to Buck all those years, I pictured Cole as the ideal husband and father: loving, patient, dedicated to his children. And employed!
I regret my lack of faith in us both. I spelled out my fears, anticipated all the problems and made a decision based on my limited experience with men. He accepted that decision, and now it’s too late. It wouldn’t be right to pop back into his life.
It’s more than seeing Cole and reliving the grief I brought upon myself that’s getting me down. I thought this last year of school would be easier than the previous four and a half. I assumed it’d be a downhill slide from this point. I was wrong. The hours are long, the professors demanding and I’m so far in debt it’ll take me fifteen years to pay off the student loans.
Lindy’s rebellious attitude toward me doesn’t help. I don’t know what happened between her and Buck. I suspect she asked to move in with him, but he didn’t write back, which was an answer in itself. I’ve never worried that Buck will send for any of the children or want custody. He couldn’t be bothered with them while we were married; he certainly isn’t going to let one of his children disrupt his lifestyle now. Lindy hasn’t mentioned his name in weeks and snarls whenever the boys talk about their dad. But then, her reaction to me is much the same.
Jillian invited Lindy and me to New York this summer as a graduation gift. She’s planning to pay for our tickets, and I just might take her up on this more-than-generous offer. Mom and Eric have agreed to watch the boys for me. I haven’t said anything to Lindy yet for fear of disappointing her if it doesn’t work out. First I’ve got to get through school. Then and only then will I feel like celebrating. One thing’s for sure: I don’t want my daughter hanging around the house with nothing to do all summer. That’s a guarantee of trouble.
David is taking Driver’s Education and is eager to get his license in September. I can’t wait! Once he’s driving, I won’t have to spend as much time taking the two younger boys to one sporting event or another. Two years ago, Buck promised to buy Davey a car. For David’s sake and mine, I hope he follows through, but I have serious doubts. Of course, David knows better than to count on anything Buck tells him. Still, hope springs eternal.
***
May 20, 1982
Dear Lesley, Bill and I talked it over and wanted to know if you’d agree to send Lindy to us for the summer. With me working full-time at the hospital and Bill putting in long hours at the office, we’re concerned about day care during the last part of June through August. We’d pay for her airplane ticket and give her $5.00 a day.
Get back to me ASAP so we can make other arrangements if we need to.
Love,
Susan
***
June 6, 1982
City of Sitka Jail 304 Lake Street Sitka, Alaska 99835
Dear Lesley,
I hate to ask this, but I need a loan. As you can see, I’m in a bit of a jam here. I swear to you, Les, I’ll pay you back. On my sister’s grave, I’ll find a way to get the money to you as soon as possible.
This isn’t an easy letter to write, but I’m not afraid to admit I need help. If I don’t get out of here by Tuesday, I won’t be able to fish. If I don’t fish, I can’t pay child support. Getting me the money will help you and the kids. You know I wouldn’t ask if there was any other alternative.
Buck
P.S. Wire the money directly to the jail, all right? And listen, I know I’m a few months behind on child support, but I’ll make that up as soon as I’m back fishing.
***
The President,
Faculty and the Graduating Class
Of Seattle University,
Pine Ridge extension,
Announce that
Lesley L. Knowles
Is a candidate for
Registered nursing degree
At the fifty-first commencement exercises
Sunday afternoon, June sixth
Nineteen hundred and eighty-two
At three o’clock
A Reception will follow
the Commencement Exercises
***
June 11, 1982
Dearest Jillian,
I can hardly express my delight about seeing you at my graduation. I know I embarrassed myself by bursting into tears right in the middle of “Pomp and Circumstance,” but I didn’t have a clue you were doing this. To think David knew all along! You really know how to surprise a girl, don’t you?
If all goes according to plan, Lindy and I will fly out the third week of August. She’ll be back from California then, with her baby-sitting money burning a hole in her pocket. I’ve always wanted to see New York, and before you suggest it, NO, I refuse to contact Cole.
I’m so excited about this trip! But are you sure you’re going to want company so close to when the baby’s due? Let me know if you have any concerns. If you prefer, we could postpone our visit.
Thank you for the wonderful, wonderful surprise. You were right when you said, back in 1966, that I was college material. It only took me fourteen years to prove it!
I start working full-time with Dr. Milton immediately. Mrs. Milton is more than ready to have me take her place.
Love,
Lesley and all
***
JILLIAN LAWTON GORDON
331 WEST END AVENUE
APARTMENT 1020
NEW YORK, NY 10023
J
uly 7, 1982
Dear Mom,
Please come. I haven’t been able to stop crying since the miscarriage. Monty doesn’t know what to say to me any more. It was a little boy, did I tell you that? It seemed like a miracle that I was pregnant again, and we were so happy. Monty and I were so thrilled. How cruel of God to do this to us. How heartless and mean to build up our hopes and then bring us such pain. I didn’t expect this, didn’t even consider that I’d lose my baby.
You never told me you miscarried. Three times before I was born? Oh Mom, how did you bear such grief? I feel empty inside. My arms ache to hold this child I’ll never know. I feel lost and afraid of the future. The doctors told me it was normal to grieve, but I can’t seem to let go of my son.
I want my mother.
Jillian
***
Card on floral arrangement sent to
Jillian Gordon
Mt. Sinai Hospital
Jillian, Montgomery and Leni Jo:
I’m so very, very sorry.
I love you. Call if you need anything
Lesley
***
July 14, 1982
Dear Mom and Everyone,
Hi. I thought I’d write and let you know that everything’s all right here in Sacramento. Aunt Susan and Uncle Bill asked me to tell everyone hi from them. I thought Sacramento was on the ocean and that I’d meet some guys with surfboards. It’s not! Did you know that when you sent me here?
I’m really sorry to hear about Aunt Jillian and her baby. I guess you’re right and this probably isn’t the best time to visit, especially with her mother there for the summer. We will visit another time, won’t we? Actually I don’t mind so much because—this will probably surprise everyone—I’ve missed being home. I’ve saved almost all my money for school clothes.
When I get back I want to take everyone to dinner. A real sit-down restaurant, too, like Denny’s. I bought a
Culture Club
cassette last week, but that’s been my only extravagance. I think Boy George is radical. If you want, Doug, I can dress you like a girl, too. Just kidding!
Has anyone heard from Dad? I wrote him from here and the letter was returned. What’s up with him?
I get home on Friday, August 20th. Who’s going to come to the airport to pick me up? Will everyone? I miss you all. I didn’t think I would, but I do.
Love,
Lindy
P.S. Christopher, would you like to see the movie
ET?
I’ll treat if you buy the popcorn.
*** ***
Barbara Lawton
2330 Country Club Lane
Pine Ridge, Washington 98005
October 7, 1982
My dearest Jillian, Montgomery and Leni Jo,
I’m home and settling back into my normal routine. In spite of the circumstances that brought me to New York, I had an enjoyable visit. I miss you all dreadfully. The house feels empty without the sound of Leni Jo’s laughter.
Jillian, this has been a hard summer for you with the loss of your pregnancy. Time is the great healer; it might be a cliché but it’s true. I’m glad you’re wise enough to recognize this. Taking a three-month sabbatical was exactly the right thing to do at this juncture. Learning to take care of your emotional needs is as important as anything physical. I learned that lesson after your father died.
Grief, my children, is part of the healing process. When Leonard died, I didn’t think I could possibly recover. We’d been married forty-five years and he was as much a part of me as my own hands and feet. I felt lost without him, abandoned and confused. Those first two years of widowhood were a challenge I don’t care to repeat. I managed nicely once I found my balance, but it took quite a while. That sense of balance will come back to you, too. Be patient with yourself, deal with one day at a time and be grateful for the beautiful daughter you already have.
Montgomery, if you don’t mind my saying so, you’re working too hard. Jillian’s been telling me this for years and I agree with her. Don’t make the same mistake Leonard did. Take care of yourself, will you?
Leni Jo, you’re the most brilliant, beautiful grandchild in the universe. I don’t know a single three-yearold nearly as wonderful as you. I want to remind you how much your Grandma Lawton loves you. I miss reading to you at bedtime and cuddling with you during our afternoon naps, but I won’t stay away long, I promise.
Cheers
will be on soon, and you know how much I enjoy that show. Mark my word. Ted Danson is going to be a big star. His co-star, Shelley—oh dear, I can’t recall her surname at the moment, but she’s quite good too.
I’m looking forward to seeing you all at Christmas.
Love,
Mom
P.S. I liked Anne Tyler’s
Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant,
which I read on the plane home. I’ll give it to you at Christmastime.
P.P.S. My land, what is this world coming to that people are tainting headache pills with cyanide? Whoever’s doing this is a very sick person and should be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. I only hope that Johnson & Johnson survives this mess. God help us all.
***
November 1, 1982
Dear Buck,
I don’t make a habit of opening your letters to the children. You were probably counting on that.
This latest letter, however, came with a Sitka County Jail stamp on the envelope. I hoped to spare them the knowledge that their father is currently incarcerated.
How dare you blame me for your situation! I didn’t do anything to cause you to be arrested or jailed. It wasn’t me behind the wheel of that car. You were the one who got into an accident. You were the one with the high blood alcohol count. You landed behind bars without any help from me. It’s time you accepted responsibility for your own actions.
I’ve been angry with you before, and always with good reason, but you’ve sunk lower than I dreamed possible. I refused to send you money, and now you’re asking your teenage children. It’s bad enough that you blame me for your jail sentence, but asking David to send you cigarette money is unconscionable.
From this point forward, I will be censoring all your mail to the children. You won’t get a dime from me and you won’t get a penny from your son. As far as I’m concerned, jail is exactly where you belong.
Lesley
***
Jillian’s Journal
November 13, 1982
My dearest Nick,
I watched the dedication ceremony for the Vietnam War Memorial on the news this evening. It’s stunning in its simplicity. The black granite wall has your name engraved on it, along with those of the 52,000 other young men and women killed or missing in the Vietnam War. Each life lost is marked there. Each one will be remembered and honored. I’m so grateful, Nick. I don’t want anyone to forget you or what you did. I hate it when I’m in Pine Ridge and someone mentions your name and then casually comments that you never returned from Vietnam. They don’t know that you died a hero and that because of you, other men lived.
When I watched the news, Leni Jo was down for the night, thank goodness, and Monty wasn’t home. The tears and the grief came so fast and furious that for a few moments I was overwhelmed. I turned off the television and sat for a while, immersed in the memories.
Oh, Nick, I loved you so much. I remember how I felt when my mother phoned to tell me your helicopter had been shot down and you’d been killed. At that point in my life, I’d never known such grief. It seems all too familiar now that my father’s gone, too, and I’ve miscarried my son. But you, Nick, oh dear God, how I’ve missed you through the years.
My mother wrote last month soon after she returned home and said that time heals broken hearts. She’s right—it blunts the pain and allows you to go on, to create a life. But it hasn’t healed mine, Nick. It hasn’t stopped me from loving you. It hasn’t made me forget. I love my husband, but there have been nights, both before and after I married him, when I’d wake up, often in tears, because I’d been dreaming of you.
I’ve never told anyone this, not even Lesley.
There’s irony in all this. The newsman who gave the report was in Vietnam himself. His name is Cole Greenberg and he’s the man Lesley met in Hawaii. He’s very good at his job, but I could see he was deeply moved by the ceremony. His facial expression revealed little, but his words came from the heart. He knows. He’s been there. He saw it with his own eyes. He lived the nightmare, too.
I can’t visit the Vietnam War Memorial now. I might never be able to stand in front of that wall without breaking down. It was hard enough saying goodbye to you the first time.
Remember how much I love you.
Jillian
***
November 20, 1982
Dearest Jillian,
I’ve been meaning to write all week, but this is the first free moment I’ve had. I can’t tell you how eager I am for your visit next month. Save as much time as you can for me, will you? I need one of our good, old-fashioned gabfests.
This has been a quite a year, hasn’t it? A mixture of the good, the bad and everything else. You’ve been in my thoughts almost every day since June, when you lost the baby. Then I read about the dedication of the Vietnam War Memorial and realized how hard that must have hit you.
I’ve put in a request with Dr. Milton for time off the week between Christmas and New Year’s. Following graduation, he gave me a substantial raise, which the children and I are putting to good use. I sold the trailer and paid off part of my school loans, as you know. After that, we moved into this rental home and now we have an opportunity to purchase it. I’m thrilled! The owner has made the terms very advantageous, asking for a relatively small down payment. The place is in good shape, has a yard and a convenient location. I’m so happy we can actually do this. All the kids are equally excited and they’re pulling together to make it happen.
David is working thirty hours a week at the Albertson’s Store and still manages to get top grades. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Lindy’s a social butterfly, but she’s adding her baby-sitting money to the pot. Doug has David’s old paper route and Christopher is walking dogs. Together we’ll have enough for the down payment and the closing costs.
Lindy’s attitude is a little better since she went away for the summer. She has a boyfriend, but at least he’s in school and as far as I can tell, drug-free. For her fifteenth birthday, she wants to pierce her ears. I never thought I’d agree to that but I have. You’ve got to choose your battles and this one’s not important enough to risk our fragile truce. Can you imagine what the nuns would think if we’d pierced our ears? How times have changed! In our day, we were considered hussies if we rolled our socks down to show our ankles. We’d get kicked out of class for chewing gum, while now... Well, never mind.
I try to spend extra time with Lindy, but that doesn’t help. She’d rather listen to her music than talk to me. It seems she’s never going to forgive me for divorcing her father. Perhaps some day she’ll understand the reasons I left Buck. I want so much for her, and I’m so afraid she’ll make the same mistakes I did.
On to more positive news. Doug made the varsity basketball team and we had a party to celebrate. He isn’t as athletic as Christopher, but he shot hoops every night after practice. I’m really proud of him.
I realize I’m talking about myself when it’s really you I’m anxious to hear about. I know this has been a hard six months for you and Monty.
Write soon—and take care of yourself. You’re the only best friend I have.
Love,
Lesley and the kids
P.S. I saw a bumper sticker the other day that made me smile. It said: GOD BLESS AMERICA—AND PLEASE HURRY!!!
***
1986
Jillian’s Journal
January 1, 1986
Dear Nick and Daddy,
I’ll just bet you’re cheering up a storm in heaven, aren’t you, Daddy? There’s a Republican in the White House, inflation is down and there’s talk of eliminating the national debt by 1991! For the second time in my voting history, I chose to cast my ballot for the former Hollywood actor. So go ahead and gloat!
This is going to be an exciting year. Lesley and I are attending our twenty-year class reunion in July, and Lindy will be graduating from high school. Since I’m her official godmother, I plan to be at the graduation exercise and I’ll sit proudly beside Lesley. The dates are already written in my schedule, which I’m finding more and more crowded since I was elected to the bench last year.
Nick, I’m sure Dad is being a real bore about that. You’ll need to forgive him for being embarrassingly smug about his daughter, the judge. Dad knew, I swear he did, from the time I was three years old, that I’d follow in his footsteps.
Leni Jo is the smartest seven-year-old in her second-grade class. She’s already reading at fifth-grade level. Monty and I have resisted placing her in an advanced schooling program because we prefer that she socialize with children her own age. We take pains to make sure she’s intellectually stimulated both inside and outside the classroom. I’m still struggling with the conflict between the obligations of motherhood and career. I haven’t found any easy solutions—only compromises.
Monty’s law career is still going well. Last November he was approached about becoming a full partner. The heart attack in December of 1982 frightened us both. I have no desire to be a widow, and Monty doesn’t intend to make me one anytime soon. I’m grateful to report that as of last February, he is physically fit with a normal cholesterol count. Whether or not he accepts a partnership with the Beckham firm is completely up to him. I’ll support his decision either way. If he says yes, then I’ll cheer him on just as enthusiastically as he encouraged me when I entered the race for Superior Court Judge.
I’m more in love with my husband every year. Monty and I have a good life. This isn’t the passionate love I shared with you, Nick, but a mature love, one that developed slowly and steadily.
Now that Leni Jo is a bit older, we feel more comfortable leaving her with Mother and when our schedules allow, Monty and I enjoy traveling. Mom is in her glory when she can spend “quality time” with Leni Jo—that’s a catch phrase of the 80s!
I’ve come to believe that our daughter has given Mom’s life new purpose. She’s incredible, Dad. When we were in Pine Ridge last summer, she decided it was time Leni Jo learned how to swim—and decided to teach her at the Country Club pool. Before she knew it, Mom had a whole class of six- and seven-year-olds. I think it’s wonderful. Leni Jo talks to her on the phone every weekend and misses her terribly. I’m so grateful they had three weeks together this summer.
I was only able to see Lesley once this year, but we’re as close as we ever were. She hasn’t heard a word from Buck in almost four years. No real loss there. The last time he wrote, he was still in Alaska—in jail for reckless driving, reckless endangerment and driving while under the influence. I understand there are also a whole slew of property damage claims against him. As far as I’m concerned, she’s better off not hearing from him, and so are the children.
David is attending classes at Pine Ridge Community College and working part-time for a computer store. He loves his job and apparently the owner relies on him quite a bit. He told me recently that he’d like to design software. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but then I barely even know how to operate a computer.
They certainly seem to be taking over the world, though. Monty swears by his and claims it won’t be long before every home has one. That’ll be the day! I remember when everyone told us we’d have settlements on the moon by the year 2000. It isn’t going to happen. Space travel isn’t for me, and neither are computers.
Some time this month the Challenger is lifting off with the first private citizen aboard. A schoolteacher was chosen. Needless to say, I didn’t apply, but what an experience. Christa McAuliffe will have a lot to share with her students when she returns.
Now that interest rates have fallen, Jim and Angie bought a house. (I don’t think we can totally attribute lower interest rates to a Republican White House, Dad!) Lesley and the kids have been in their house for almost four years. It took her so long to buy a home of her own (other than the trailer) that she takes care of it as though it were one of her children. The yard is immaculate and the inside is decorated in a charming country style that is so Lesley.
Yes, life is good and I’m happy. Every year seems better than the one before. Monty and I have given up hoping for another child. (I’ll be thirty-eight in a few days and Monty is fifty-six,) but that makes us all the more grateful for Leni Jo.
Remember how much I love you both,
Jillian
***
Barbara Lawton
2330 Country Club Lane
Pine Ridge, Washington 98005
January 5, 1986
My dearest children,
Jillian, I’m considering a major decision and I want to discuss it with you before I proceed further. I’d like to list the house with a real estate broker.
When the John L. Scott representative came today for what he called a “walk-through” he told me the house was worth over $200,000. Can you imagine? He suggested I list it at a slightly higher price to leave room for negotiations. My goodness, I nearly wet my drawers when he said what we could get for it. I didn’t dare tell him that your father and I paid only $15,000 for it back in 1947.
I suspect you’re asking yourself why I’d want to sell the house now. First and foremost, it seems ridiculous to heat 3,000 square feet for just one person. The place is just too big for me. My friends told me not to make any major decisions the year following your father’s death. I doubt that I could have, but it’s been almost eight years and I’m finally ready.
Jillian, I can hear you asking me where I intend to move. This might come as a surprise, but I’m seriously thinking about New York City. Manhattan in particular. To be a bit more specific—an apartment within walking distance of you.
Having Leni Jo with me for three weeks this summer is what prompted this. She’s the joy of my life. The house seemed so dull and empty without her. The sound of her laughter faded from these rooms far too quickly. Now, I don’t want you to worry that I’ll intrude on you and Montgomery. I intend to maintain my privacy and will respect yours. I trust you know me well enough to realize that.
I hope to hear back from you soon so I can make my plans. If you have any objections, I do hope you’ll be honest enough to tell me now.
I love you all.
Mom
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Park West Medical
284 Central Park West, Suite 1A New York, NY 10024
February 10, 1986
Dear Mr. Montgomery Gordon,
The results of your blood work are back, following your annual examination with Dr. Lyman. Your cholesterol count is 190. We look forward to seeing you again next year.
Sincerely,
Joan McMahon, R.N.
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March 3, 1986
Grandma Lawton,
I’m glad your house sold and you’re moving to New York. There’s an apartment for sale in our building. It’s on the fifth floor. We live on the tenth floor. I could take the elevator down to your apartment and you could take it up to see me.
Love,
Leni Jo Gordon
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