"Then Heaven left to pursue her lost family, and while she was away, as you know from the letter you read, Jillian told me the truth: Tony was Heaven"s father; she was my niece. Knowing we could never marry, I wrote her a letter and left Farthy to travel and try to forget.
"I returned while she was away- and, as you know, rode Jillian"s horse Abdtilla Bar into the ocean, convincing everyone, even Tony, I was dead. "And I was dead, dead to anything warm and hopeful, just wandering about, waiting for the inevitable end of my wretched existence.
"But it didn"t come. I lived on past the time I had drea4t I would die. Once again, hopeful, even renewed, I returned, dreaming of some kind of existence with Heaven, but by then she had reunited with Logan and they had married. I was living in the cottage secretly and secretly watched their wedding recept.i.te at Farthy, my heart shriveling.
"For a while I wandered about the grounds and even entered the building surrept.i.tiously, behaving as one of Rye Whiskey"s spirits, just so I could see her ueobserved. Your mother sensed my presence and carne to the cottage. I tried to hide from her in the tunnels, but she pursued and . . discovered me, dis covered I was really still alive.
"We both mourned the love we had lost, but"-- his eyes lifted to gaze upon my face--"we didn"t leave it at that, even though we parted and determined we could never see each other again. She returned that night. G.o.d forgive me, I hoped and prayed she would.
I even left my door open.
"She came and we had one last loving night together, a special, precious night, Annie, for there is no doubt in my mind as I look upon you now that your birth was a direct result of that stolen night of love."
My tears were streaming down my face throughout his tale, but when he said those final lines, my heart paused and Luke squeezed my hand as though he had been abruptly woken from a deep sleep.
"What . . . what are you saying?"
"I"m saying you are my daughter, Annie; my daughter, not Logan"s. I"m saying you and Luke are not blood related. f.a.n.n.y and Heaven were not sisters and Logan was not your father, although I"m sure he loved you as much as any father could love a daughter, even though deep in his heart he might have known.
"Believe me, I agonized over telling you all this, for I feared you would think less of your mother because of it, but I finally concluded Heaven would have wanted me to tell you so that you and Luke would not lose one another as she and I did. "If there is truly a curse on the Tattertons, it is born out of our refusal to be honest with our hearts, and I will not let that happen to you.
"Lift the dark shadows from Farthy; shine a light of life over it, Annie. Understand and forgive people who were turned and twisted by cruel Fate, whose only fault was they longed too hard and too much for love."
He lowered his head, exhausted from his revelations. For a long moment neither Luke nor I spoke. Then I reached forward and slowly took my father"s hand. He looked up to meet my eyes, and in his eyes I saw Mommy"s face. I saw her smiling, beautiful face. I felt her comfort and her love, and I knew that everything Troy had told us was born of love, words from the heart.
I hated no one; I faulted no one. Actions taken long ago had determined that two families as different as night and day would cross paths and destinies. The turmoil that resulted swept up both houses, kept them forever in the midst of winds of pa.s.sion and hate, driving some mad, shaking the very foundations of both families.
Now Luke and I stood alone in this confusion.
Now my true father had decided it was time to end it.
He showed us the way out of the maze.
"We don"t hate and there is no one to forgive."
He smiled through his tears.
"There is so much of Heaven in you. I believe what you have of her will be strong enough to overcome any melancholy you have inherited from me.
"For a long time, I lived in shame, regretting that night of love Heaven and I shared, but when I saw how beautiful you were and realized what your life could be if you were free of all the lies and deceptions, I decided to give you the best, the only gift I could . . . the truth."
"It"s the most beautiful gift of all. Thank you . .
. Father." I stood up to embrace him. We held each other tightly, and when we parted, he kissed me on the cheek.
"Go now and live, free of all the shadows." He shook Luke"s hand.
"Love and cherish her as your father came to love and cherish Heaven,"
"I will."
"Good-bye."
"But we"ll come to see you, again and again," I cried.
"I"d like that. It won"t be hard to find me. I"ll always be here. My flight from life is over now." He escorted us out and we kissed and embraced once more. Then Luke and I got into his car. I looked back once to wave good-bye. The melancholy part of me made me worry that I would never see him again, projected me forward to a time when I would return to a cottage empty but for the unfinished toys. But my happier, and hopefully stronger, side, shoved the dark pictures away and replaced them with images of an older Troy, still working on his toys, greeting me and Luke and our children.
Luke reached across the seat to squeeze my hand. "Stop at the cemetery one more time, please, Luke."
"Of course."
After he did, I got out and he and I went to the monuments. We stood before them silently, holding hands.
In the distance the great stone house loomed as majestic and tall as ever. Sunlight found an opening in the clouds and widened and widened it until bright rays washed over the grounds and the building. Luke and I looked at each other. In my memory our fantasy words replayed themselves: ". . . maybe it becomes whatever you want it to become . . . if I want it to be made of sugar and maple, it will be." "And if I want it to be a magnificent castle with lords and ladies-in-waiting and a sad prince moping about, longing for his princess to come, it will be." "Be my princess, Annie," Luke said suddenly, as if he heard my thoughts.
"Forever and ever?"
"Forever and ever."
"Oh yes, Luke. Yes."
He put his arm around my waist and then we turned away and went back to the car.
I smiled to myself, positive that back in the cottage, Troy was listening to the tinkle of a Chopin melody.
END.