Goodbye, Nauvoo Page 13

  “Yes, go on.”

  Lucy took a deep, long breath. “I have hated your father for all these years... For what he did... and now I am at peace with him.”

  “Faddy?” Martha asked, confused.

  Lucy gulped in air. Tears streamed silently down her face. “Faddy is not your father,” she said. “Richard is. Richard Bolton.”

  Martha’s jaw dropped. She stood speechless, trying unsuccessfully to wrap her mind around what she had just been told.

  “He lied to me. He tricked me. We were to be married. And then I was… With child. He left me. He left us. He married his cousin instead.”

  “Does Faddy know?” was all Martha could think of to say, although she realized the question didn’t make any sense. Of course, he knew. Didn’t he?

  Lucy nodded her head in affirmation. “He’s a good man,” she said. “He married me, knowing… He claimed you as his own. It was our secret.” She put a trembling hand over her heart. “He’s a good man.”

  So many emotions raced through Martha’s body. Love. Anger. Frustration. Betrayal. Sadness. She felt love for Faddy for treating her as his own, although Martha was angry that she had been lied to for so long. She felt frustrated and betrayed by Richard for abandoning her and her mother, and it saddened Martha to see her mother’s life dwindling before her eyes.

  Lucy was sweating profusely. Martha dabbed at her mother’s forehead with the sleeve of her dress.

  “Do you hate me, Martha?” Lucy asked.

  The question caught Martha off guard. She had every reason to hate her mother. Martha had been lied to and deceived for all of her life by the woman she trusted the most. And yet, no hatred ran through her veins. Disappointment, yes, but nothing close to hatred. “No, I could never hate you Mother.”

  “Do you forgive me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Lucy began to weep happy tears. “I feel as if a burden has been lifted off of me,” she said. Martha leaned over to embrace her mother in bed, lingering as long as possible. She smelled the familiar lye scent of her mother’s clothes, feeling comfort in her company.

  “Will you write him for me? If something happens to me. Tell him I forgive him?” Lucy asked.

  “You can write him yourself, Mother, you will get better.”

  “Martha, please promise me you will.”

  “I promise.”

  ✽✽✽

  Lucy did not get better. She survived another day, but by nightfall Lydia came for Martha again for her to say goodbye one last time. After tucking the children in bed, Martha left them once again under Lydia’s watch, and trekked across the familiar road to her parent’s home. Martha found her mother in bed with a cold sweat, mumbling unintelligibly.

  Martha sat down next to the shell of her mother, thinking of what words to say. There were so many things she wanted to tell her, so many questions that she wished she could ask her. Martha wanted to know more about her real father and why Lucy waited until her deathbed to confess the truth. But Martha bit her tongue, realizing that this was not the appropriate time to ask. Lucy was still her mother after all, and Martha felt that the bond they shared triumphed over whatever shortcomings her mother had in this life. Her imminent departure and Martha’s desire to say goodbye to her mother seemed to make her mother’s mistakes irrelevant, at least for now.

  “What do I say to the woman who sacrificed her life for me?” Martha said, holding her mother’s feeble hand in her own.

  Lucy’s eyes seemed to flicker on the inside, as if a little fire was lit but died out immediately.

  Martha continued. “All I can say is thank you. Thank you for everything. For bringing me into this world. For teaching me about God and listening when I taught you about the restored gospel. Thank you.”

  Martha heard a shuffling noise behind her and turned to find Faddy standing in the doorway watching her. He gave her a sad, empathetic smile and knelt down beside her next to Lucy’s bedside, his bones creaking. He stared at his infirm wife, whose face was a sickly shade of yellow.

  “Her mother sent her away to live with an aunt in Massachusetts when she found out she was expecting,” Faddy said, as if reading Martha’s mind. “That is where we met. You were very young when I married your mother. Do you remember?”

  Martha nodded. “I didn’t understand at the time. Mother introduced you as my father. She said you had been gone, but you were back again.” Martha swallowed hard recalling that long lost memory. That was when the lie had begun.

  Faddy continued. “She didn’t want you to live in shame, Martha. To be seen as an outcast for the rest of your life. The world is unkind to sinners and their posterity after all.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry she didn’t tell you earlier. It was a decision we both agreed to. To keep it a secret.”

  “You married her, even knowing about her sin?” Martha asked.

  “Of course,” Faddy answered quickly.

  “Why?”

  “The Lord has asked us not to judge others, so I didn’t judge her. I loved her. That was all that mattered.”

  Martha’s thoughts sped through her mind as she contemplated what Faddy told her. This man, whom she had believed was her real father, conspired with her mother to make her believe that she was his. But he was right, the world is unkind to sinners and their posterity. Martha thought of what her life might have been like if Faddy had not married her mother. It definitely would not have been as comfortable or as happy. Martha wouldn’t have had the wonderful memories of growing up on Faddy’s maple farm to fill her daydreams. She would have grown up impoverished, a pariah to society. She wouldn’t have been accepted by Samuel’s family, and he would have courted and married another girl. All the children they brought into the world would not have been born. Faddy’s act of love and mercy had far reaching consequences for Martha and her family. In actuality, he had done them a favor.

  A surge of love and admiration for Faddy filled Martha from her head to her toes. At that moment, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t her father by blood, he earned that title by his act of pure love toward her and her mother.

  “I can understand if you’re mad at her,” Faddy continued, “but please try to forgive her.”

  Martha reached for her father’s hand and held it tight. She stared down gratefully at the woman who had brought them together as a family.

  “I already have,” Martha replied softly.

  ✽✽✽

  Martha fell asleep, her head resting on the side of her mother’s bed. Hearing Faddy’s loud footsteps on the wooden floor beside her, she stirred. Soft streams of moonlight flooded the room from a nearby window, illuminating Faddy’s and Annie’s figures. Faddy had brought Annie to say her final goodbye to her mother. Lucy was asleep, although she awoke in restless fits until she relapsed into slumber.

  “You don’t have to stay,” Faddy said gently to Martha, who lingered after watching Annie pay her last respects.

  But Martha didn’t want to go home. She wanted to stay with her mother until she couldn’t, so she remained at her mother’s bedside and watched her mother’s failing body. Oh, what will I do without you? Martha thought.

  Martha was there holding her mother’s hand when her soul slipped silently into the night, like a wisp of smoke from an extinguished flame. A sleepless Faddy was there, too, awake by his dedicated wife’s side.

  Martha had no time with the body, for as quickly as Lucy died, she and Faddy closed her eyes and covered her with her a quilt. Martha dared not wake Annie to tell her that her mother had passed. The poor child would find out soon enough.

  Chapter 20

  The Letters and a Storm

  After laying Asenath in her cradle for a nap, Martha sat down at her simple wooden desk and took out her best stationary. She paused with her quill in hand, looking out from her window at the gathering storm clouds that hid away the sun. She felt as if a storm was likewise brewing inside of her, and wanted nothing more than to tell her husband. To tell someo
ne! But thinking better of it, she began to write instead:

  Dearest John,

  Are you sitting? I’m afraid I have dreadful news for you and don’t know how to tell you kindly. Aunt Parker and Cousin Beth passed away. They will be missed dearly. Beth was buried in her favorite pink slippers Mother bought for her birthday. We buried Mother with a quilt she sewed - a lovely flying-geese pattern in blue and red, her favorite colors. I thought it was appropriate as she was “flying home” to be with Heavenly Father.

  Do not sorrow too much, for our family is in a better place. This is all I can write as I’m weeping with every word I scribe, and I’m afraid that the drops will smear the ink. Take care John.

  Your doting cousin,

  Martha

  Martha folded up the letter, wondering if John would ever receive it. Then remembering her promise to her mother, she took out another sheet of paper. She stared at the blank page, at a loss for what words to write.

  Martha had heard of Richard Bolton before. Mountain was a small town. And now Martha knew enough about Richard that she felt a certain resentfulness toward him. After all, he left her mother with child, then, after abandoning her, married his cousin. It was a shameful situation for Martha’s mother. Still, Richard was family by blood. There was a yearning deep within her soul to get to know him. Part of Martha was his. And yet it was a disservice to Faddy to discount the years he acted as her father while Richard had not cared to find her. In that regard, Faddy was much more of Martha’s father than Richard ever was.

  Martha began writing, her hand shaking as her quill graced the paper.

  Richard Bolton,

  She hesitated. What could she possibly say to Richard? There were a million things she wanted to tell him but couldn’t find the words. Simply, Martha wrote:

  I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Martha Wilcox. I am the daughter of Lucy Boyd-Parker. Due to the circumstance of your relationship with my mother, I thought it fitting to inform you that she has passed away. If you have had a heavy conscience the last twenty-five years, I have good news. On mother’s deathbed, she admitted that she forgave you.

  Richard, as you are my father by blood, perhaps you have been curious as to my life. So far it has been lived well. I am happily married to Samuel Wilcox and we have four wonderful children to call our own: Malinda, Sarah, John, and Asenath. I hope that you do not sorrow for what you have left behind as we, including mother, even in her last years, have been happy and well. I hope your life has brought you such happiness, and will continue to do so.

  All the best,

  Martha

  Martha looked over her letter, making sure she wrote everything perfectly, scrutinizing every word. Then, she folded it up. Martha didn’t expect Richard to ever reply to her, but she did want to make a positive impression upon him. It was a form of closure for her. Martha promised herself that after she delivered the letter, she would never think of Richard ever again. But a feeling of dread overcame her when she thought of delivering it.

  What will Richard think of me from what I’ve written? The letter was damning. Did he ever tell anyone he fathered a child out of wedlock? Martha weighed in her mind whether her real father deserved the distress she might cause by sending the letter. It would be a fair punishment, perhaps, if someone knew what he did, to feel the shame he brought upon her mother.

  No, it is not my place to punish him. That is between Richard and the Lord, Martha decided. She tore the letter into bits and threw the shreds into the coals of her fire, then took up her quill and penned a new letter, writing:

  Richard Bolton,

  It is with great sadness that I write you concerning Lucy Boyd-Parker’s death. In her last days she was a faithful member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She loved her Prophet and her church, and was a stalwart example of Christian compassion and humanity. She was the mother of three daughters, and grandmother of four children, born to the eldest daughter. She was a strong, loving woman, who forgave all. She will be greatly missed.

  Sincerely,

  Martha Parker-Wilcox

  Martha read the letter over once. Satisfied, she neatly folded and addressed the letters to John and Richard and sealed them with wax, then tucked them into a pocket of her dress to take to town today. She had been wanting to pay Lydia and her Parker family a visit anyway. Martha had not heard from them in weeks - not since Lucy’s passing. Martha worried about their welfare, it wasn’t like Lydia and Faddy to not come calling once a week. So that afternoon, Martha left Malinda in charge of Sarah and Johnnie so that she could run her errands. Martha took Asenath with her as she went on her way to Faddy’s home first.

  Lydia answered the door, her work apron tied around her waist and her sleeves rolled up. She looked exhausted. There were bags under her eyes and her face was slightly gaunt.

  “Hello, Martha,” Lydia said wearily as she led Martha inside.

  “Where is Faddy and Annie?” Martha asked, peeking around.

  “Faddy’s gone. I never see him anymore. He’s immersed himself in his work since your mother’s passing,” Lydia glanced up at the ceiling. “And Annie, she’s shut herself up in our room. Day after day. She never comes out.”

  “Oh,” Martha said gently. It was worse than she imagined.

  “I was just about to take her a meal if you’d like to join me in the kitchen.” Lydia beckoned Martha to follow her.

  A plate of bread and butter sat on the kitchen table. Martha followed Lydia as she took it upstairs to Annie where they found an untouched plate of flapjacks and eggs from breakfast by the door. Lydia sighed as she picked it up and replaced it with the plate of bread.

  “The poor thing hasn’t eaten since supper yesterday,” Lydia said in a whisper, shaking her head. Then she knocked on the door, and in a louder voice cried out, “Annie, I’ve left food for you. And Martha’s here. She brought the baby. Would you like to see her?”

  There was no answer from the bedroom.

  “I’m sorry, Martha. This isn’t like her. She’s always wanting to see the baby.”

  “It's alright, Lydia. I’m sure she just needs time to grieve.”

  They returned downstairs and sat together in Faddy’s study.

  “I had to come see you,” Martha said.

  “I’m glad you have. It’s been so lonely and quiet here.” Lydia closed her eyes for a second, as if regaining her energy to continue speaking. “I’m weary. I took over Annie’s chores. I can’t bear to ask her to help. I do all the cooking and cleaning now. You know I’m not one to complain, Martha, but there is no one else I can turn to for solace. No one.” Lydia began to cry. “I haven’t had any time to come visit you. I’ve been tending Faddy and Annie.”

  “And they’ve needed you,” Martha declared. “It’s a blessing you can be here for them.”

  “Perhaps. But I am in need of a blessing, Martha. Only months ago, I felt like life was getting better. I had a new home, a new beginning, with your mother and father and Annie and Beth. They were wonderful to me. And I had Worthy. And now I have nothing.”

  “You have me,” Martha declared, slightly offended that Lydia had forgotten about her.

  “Yes, but what I mean is… I see you with your children and husband. I want that, too. I feel like a ghost here. I exist, but I don’t.” Asenath began to reach for Lydia, so Lydia took her into her arms and snuggled her close. “I want the perfect life that you have, Martha. I am tired of being alone.”

  “But I don’t have the perfect life, Lydia,” Martha said sadly.

  Lydia rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Of course you do. What do you call this?” She held up Asenath, who pulled on Lydia’s hair.

  “I call it “A-Lot-of-Work,” Martha said as she gave Asenath a silly grin. Martha sat back and sighed. “I wish I was as naive to the world as she is,” she said, looking down at the baby. “Look at her, she has no cares. She thinks the best of everyone. No sins to burden her. She doesn’t even understand what a sin
is yet. Nor death. She doesn’t understand that Beth and Mother are gone.” Martha shook her head. “I wish I could go back. To be a little child. To be free like they are.”

  “Freedom comes with a price,” Lydia said quietly. “Perhaps children are oblivious to the world, but to remain that way forever would be like if Adam and Eve never partook of the fruit from the Tree of Good and Evil. There would be nothing that would gain us experience. We would never know true happiness is if we didn’t know misery.”

  “I would rather live without misery, if you ask me,” Martha replied sadly. “And yet you’ve experienced more of it than I have.”

  “I’ve learned that misery does not mean you cannot be happy,” Lydia said. “I’m grateful for the experiences that I’ve had, although I’d never wish them on anyone.”

  “So how are you finding happiness where you are? Living here, that is. You say it is lonely and quiet here. And yet you are grateful for this experience?”

  Lydia thought for a moment. “It is lonely and quiet, but it makes me grateful for the companionship that your mother and sister gave me. Aunt Parker was like the mother I always wanted, and Beth the sister I never had. I am busy and overworked most days, but I find happiness in serving your father and Annie. It's the least I can do for them after all the kindness they’ve shown me.”

  “My father...” Martha thought aloud. She was tempted to tell Lydia all about Lucy’s confession. She hadn’t even told Samuel, even though Lucy had been gone for weeks. Martha could understand now why Lucy hadn’t told her the truth. Martha was afraid of how Samuel and Lydia would react to the news, but Martha wanted to tell someone, and she knew that Lydia was trustworthy with such life-changing news.

  “Yes, Faddy.”