Chapters (38)
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- epilogue
“He didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt in that car. He didn’t know how much she loved Sam, and he certainly didn’t know Violet was pregnant...”
“And that makes it all fine? Ronni, I love your sweetness and kindness, but you have a lot to learn.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“People like Chet Wilson will stop at nothing to get what they want. There’s no telling what else he did.”
“I don’t know.” I put my head in my hands. “I don’t know what to think about all this, except it makes me sick. I’m not even sure if I’d have shattered Violet’s heart with the truth if I’d found out.” I started to cry, picturing Violet and Chet in his little room at Fairfield, the two of them oblivious to anyone but each other.
Rick pulled me to my feet and held me close, brushing tears away and smoothing my hair.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I wish we’d never seen that letter.”
“I was expecting a syrupy love note, like CeeCee suggested. Rick, you don’t think CeeCee knew?”
“No. I’d bet anything she had no idea. That stuff about ruining Chet’s life had to do with his obsession with Violet and his unhappy marriage. I didn’t see any sign she knew what he’d done. This letter would’ve been burned in CeeCee’s fireplace years ago if she had. Well, I should probably say Bettina’s marble fireplace. CeeCee would’ve burned it in a backyard bonfire.”
“That’s true,” I said, collapsing back into the chair. I traced Chet’s words with my finger: There is something I have to tell you. Nothing happened the way it was supposed to, Violet. I was a stupid, heartsick kid at the time.
“Wow.” I shook my head. “I guess I have the rest of my book.”
He tipped my chin up with his finger. “Give yourself a little time to digest all this, huh? You don’t have to start right now.”
“Yes, I do. Writing about it will help me,” I said. I kissed him and pulled away. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a few hours to work on it.” I nodded at the front door, knowing he understood my need to be alone.
He paused and turned around before he left. “Ronni,” he said, “have you thought about the implications of the story, when the book is printed? Johnny and Sam and Chet may be gone, but their children and grandchildren and Deanna...”
“All deserve to know the truth,” I answered. “As horrible as it is.”
I sat at the table for the longest time, reeling from shock. I read Chet’s letter over and over until every word was familiar.