I didn't see Nathan again for a little while.
He returned to his brothers.
They stood near the cake table, speaking quietly.
Every so often, one of them looked toward me.
I tried not to pay attention.
I had no reason to be ashamed.
Still, I wondered what Garland had told them.
Perhaps he had said the marriage ended peacefully.
Perhaps he had said we were too young.
Perhaps he had simply avoided the subject.
There was no way for me to know.
I looked down at my plate.
The brisket was tender.
The beans were good.
Somebody had brought homemade pie.
I took a small piece.
Then I heard a chair move.
A man sat down beside me.
It was Nathan.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all."
He placed his cup on the table.
For a moment, he watched the people across the room.
Then he turned toward me.
"I asked my dad about you."
I didn't move.
"What did he say?"
Nathan looked uncomfortable.
"He said you were married a long time ago."
I nodded.
"That's true."
"He said things didn't work out."
I looked at him.
"That's one way to describe it."
Nathan lowered his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."
"It's all right."
He rubbed the edge of his paper cup.
"Was it difficult?"
I knew what he meant.
I could have given him a simple answer.
Yes.
It was difficult.
But that wouldn't have explained anything.
I looked toward the window.
"It was difficult at the time."
He nodded.
"Because of the children?"
I took a breath.
"That was part of it."
He waited.
I didn't want to turn the birthday party into a courtroom.
I didn't want to list every hurtful thing Garland had said.
I didn't want to make Nathan responsible for something his father had done before he was born.
So I kept it simple.
"Your father wanted children very badly. We weren't able to have them together. Eventually, he decided he wanted a different life."
Nathan looked at me.
"And he left?"
"Yes."
He looked down.
"Just like that?"
I nodded.
There was a long silence.
Then he asked whether I had ever married again.
I smiled.
"Life didn't stop."
He seemed surprised.
I continued.
"I worked. I made friends. I raised children in my own way."
He looked at me carefully.
"Children?"
I nodded.
He glanced toward the table where my guests were sitting.
I understood the question.
But I wasn't ready to explain everything.
Not yet.
"Some people came into my life who needed a place to belong."
Nathan didn't speak.
I looked at him.
"That's all I'm going to say about that today."
He nodded respectfully.
"All right."
We sat together for another minute.
Then one of his brothers called his name.
Nathan stood.
"Thank you for talking to me."
"You're welcome."
He walked away.
I watched him return to the other two men.
They spoke for a moment.
One of them looked toward Garland.
The other glanced at Bonnie.
I couldn't hear what they were saying.
But I noticed something.
They weren't laughing.
They weren't smiling.
They looked serious.
I returned my attention to the people at my table.
One of the women was telling a story about a church picnic.
She had everyone laughing.
I joined in.
For a while, the afternoon felt normal.
Then the microphone made a loud noise.
A man stood near the front of the hall.
He tapped it twice.
"Everybody, if I could have your attention."
The room gradually quieted.
He welcomed everyone.
He spoke about Garland's seventy-fifth birthday.
He mentioned his wife.
He mentioned the three sons.
He thanked the people who had organized the celebration.
Then he invited Garland to stand.
Everyone clapped.
Garland rose slowly.
Bonnie stood beside him.
The three sons moved closer.
I watched from my seat.
The man with the microphone began speaking about family.
He talked about the importance of having people around you as you grow older.
He talked about memories.
He talked about the people who make life meaningful.
I listened.
Some of the words were ordinary.
Some were kind.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the handwritten message.
A real family.
I wondered whether Bonnie had thought about those words when she wrote them.
I wondered whether she had expected me to come.
And I wondered whether Garland had even known the message was there.
The man with the microphone finished his speech.
Everyone clapped again.
Then Garland took the microphone.
He looked around the room.
He thanked everybody for coming.
He thanked Bonnie.
He thanked his sons.
Then his eyes moved toward my table.
For a moment, he stopped.
I looked back at him.
He seemed to be searching for something to say.
Then he continued.
I didn't hear the rest clearly.
I wasn't listening anymore.
Because I had noticed something else.
Bonnie was watching me.
And she didn't look pleased.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Birthday Toast Was Supposed to Celebrate Garland’s Perfect Family, But His Wife Could No Longer Hide Her Discomfort
The Birthday Invitation That Arrived Forty-Two Years After My Marriage Ended Had One Cruel Sentence Written at the Bottom
Part 7 of 20
