Page 159 of Run
Gazing across the garden, I see Ethan looking over his shoulder at me, a smile of his own stretched across his face as Bonnie holds out a flower for him to smell.
“This man was clearly several years older than Bonnie. He volunteered at the center. When she introduced him as her boyfriend, he chuckled and shrugged it off, so at first I thought, maybe she had fantasized a relationship with him. But she kept coming home so happy and just … well, in love.”
A breeze blows, causing the wind chimes to sound beautifully, and I see Bonnie’s hair blow across her face before Ethan reaches out and smooths it back for her.
“William was in denial, so he continued to believe the relationship was one-sided, which was innocent enough,” Shirley continues. “But I just knew it was real. And, to be honest, it wasn’t hard for me to believe. To this day I will tell you George didn’t take advantage of Bonnie. I honestly believe he was in love with her. I mean, what’s not to love?” She gestures toward Bonnie and Ethan.
“So, I let it continue. I knew it would end in heartache for her one way or another, but I also knowthatlove—the kind of love she was experiencing—doesn’t come along every day. And, especially for her, it may not come around again.
“And then one day she came bounding down the stairs, practically dancing, and said she was pregnant. That she and George were having a baby, and that William and I were going to be grandparents. She was so excited. And that excitement broke my heart, and William’s, because we knew they weren’t going to be a happy family.”
Shirley looks at me. “We knew you weren’t going to have a happy family, my dear.”
I swallow, my heart racing. “What happened?” My question is a whisper.
“Well, first I had to talk William out of murdering George, and then one day the man showed up at our front door. Bonnie was home. She went right to him and he just enveloped her in his arms, cradling her head against his chest and kissing her hair. And then he looked up at William and me, and I could see the devastation in his face. And he told us—all three of us—that he couldn’t leave his wife, and that he was so sorry, but he was going to seek full custody of the baby.”
Shirley stops and takes a ragged breath, reaches for her glass of lemonade, and takes a sip.
“William bellowed—the windows actually shook—before he lunged for George. And George just let him. He just let myhusband pounce on him and give him a few slugs. Finally, after I dragged my husband off George, we sat Bonnie down and explained to her that after she gave birth, George wanted to take the baby and have it live with him and his wife.”
Lena.
Shirley wipes a tear off her cheek. “I will never forget the look on Bonnie’s face as she realized what George planned to do. It was heartbreak, devastation, confusion … Just so many emotions all in one. She let out a howl, curling in on herself and nearly falling to the floor. And George, he flew from his seat and fell to his knees in front of her and cradled her face in his hands. And he cried right along with her.”
“I don’t understand?” I interrupt. “Why would he want to take the … me … and raise me with Lena if he was in love with Bonnie?”
Shirley picks at a loose string on her overalls as she answers. “Because Lena said she would have Bonnie deemed unfit to be a mother and you would be placed in foster care unless George agreed to stay with her and raise you as theirs.”
I deflate as I slump on the bench. I knew Lena was a piece of work, but I didn’t realize she was capable of that.
“William and I discussed pursuing custody, but Bonnie convinced us not to.” My head snaps toward Shirley. “She said George was a wonderful man and that you deserved to be loved by him. That he could provide so much more for you, and you deserved to have everything he could give you. She loved you so much that she let you go.”
A sob escapes, and Ethan swivels, hearing me cry. Our eyes connect but I shake my head, letting him know I’m alright. He nods once, then turns back to Bonnie.
“George accompanied Bonnie to all of her appointments. We questioned her decision to sign over her parental rights every day—every single day. Especially when we learned that Lenainsisted on testing to see if you would be born with the same chromosomal defect Bonnie has, since there was a fifty percent chance.”
“That bitch.” I don’t even try to hide my reaction.
“But, in the end, Bonnie trusted George because she loved him so much. The day you were born—Bonnie had a scheduled cesarean, because you were breech—she asked me and William not to go to the hospital. Lena wasn’t there, either. It was just her and George. We never got to see you, but Bonnie did. After you were born, they brought you around the curtain that shielded her stomach from view and held you out so she could see you. She said she kissed your face and hair, and that you were the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on.”
I bring a hand to my throat, thinking I may actually gag from the emotions stuck there.
“And then George took you, and he and Lena moved away. A few years later we heard through the center that George had died. We tried to find you, but any avenue we pursued was unsuccessful.”
I close my eyes as I try to pull in cleansing breaths of air. In … Out. In … Out.
“Bonnie has wondered about you ever since. Every Christmas, she would muse, ‘What do you think Arlene asked for from Santa?’ And on your birthday she would insist we have a cake for you.”
My shoulders shake with more sobs as I smile through my tears, and I feel them run down my face and cheeks, dripping off my chin and landing against my bare thighs. Someone sits beside me and places a hand on my thigh. When I open my eyes, I see it’s not Ethan. It’s Bonnie.
She takes my face in her hands, then leans in and kisses my forehead. “Don’t cry,” she soothes me.
“I’m so glad we found you.” I feel a hand on my shoulder, and know that’s Ethan.
We all stay like that for a moment, my face in Bonnie’s hands, Ethan’s hand on my shoulder, and Shirley sitting next to us. Finally, Ethan speaks up. “Where did the name Arlene come from?”
“Oof,” Shirley grumbles, as Bonnie answers, “I named you after my horse.”
