2000
Tommy didn’t know what to say to Louise about the journal. He never knew Moe had kept one. Before he could reply, the front door swung open and Jason came barreling in.
“Dad!” He dropped his bag on the floor and ran to Tommy in the living room, grabbing him around the waist. “I missed you, Dad. I’m glad you’re back from your trip. Is my helmet fixed? Are we gonna ride today?”
Tommy hugged him back as he gently laid the notebook on the seat he had just vacated. He looked over Jason’s head and saw Ginny calmly walk into the house. She laid her purse and keys on the small table and strode into the living room. Their eyes met.
“I missed you too, buddy.” Tommy said without breaking eye contact. “Yes, your helmet is fixed and I’ll take you for a ride this evening, when it’s cooler out.”
Jason looked up at him and Tommy patted his back. “Your mom and I have a guest and we don’t want to be rude. Can you take your bag upstairs and get yourself unpacked?”
“Sure, Dad.” Jason glanced at Louise.
Before his son could fire off a round of questions, Tommy quickly added, “Jason, this is Miss Bailey. She’s the daughter of an old friend. She came to see me and Mom today, so I’d really like to have some time with your mom and her so the three of us can visit.”
Louise smiled at Jason. “Louise. It’s just Louise. Nice to meet you, Jason.”
Her expression told Tommy she knew after whom he’d been named.
“Nice to meet you, too. See you later,” Jason called over his shoulder as he passed his mother, grabbed his overnight bag off the floor and bounded up the stairs with the unlimited energy of a ten-year-old.
Ginny’s curiosity was aroused. She had been eyeing the woman during Tommy’s introduction. A friend’s daughter? She doubted it. It was probably a reporter telling another lie to get in the door. Would Tommy actually let another one in their home after the debacle with Leslie? But this woman seemed familiar.
“This is Chicky’s daughter, Ginny,” Tommy said quietly. “Louise Bailey.”
No wonder she looked familiar. Ginny smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, Chicky! Oh, dear Chicky. How is she?”
Louise explained about Chicky’s battle with cancer and subsequent death, then circled back to her main reason for being there: the journal.
Tommy nodded toward the notebook on the chair. “Louise was delivering this.”
Ginny looked at the notebook, then at Tommy. Before she could ask, he added, “It’s a journal. It was Moe’s.”
“Her journal? I didn’t know Moe kept a journal,” Ginny said, the shock evident in her voice. “How did Chicky have a journal that belonged to Moe?”
“She found it,” Louise replied.
“Where? When?” Ginny asked as she distractedly sat down on the piano bench. She looked at Louise and then at Tommy, bewildered. “Did you know Moe kept a journal?” she asked him, an edge to her voice.
“No, Gin. I didn’t know,” Tommy said simply.
Louise looked from one to the other. “Mom found it after Moe died. She told me Moe’s room hadn’t been used for a while. I guess it was a sad time for you.” Louise nodded at Ginny.
Ginny looked down at her lap. “Yes, it was very sad. I couldn’t bring myself to go in there for a long time. But,” she added, “I looked through her room the day she died. Tommy was with me. We didn’t find any journal.”
“It was there. Mom said that after a few weeks had passed, you’d asked her if she would clean out Moe’s room. You told her you thought Moe would want her things to go to charity, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it yourself.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Ginny remembered it all now, the way the grief and the guilt had held on and on, the way she’d kept picturing Moe, her dark hair and eyes, her small shy smile.
“Mom said she found it under a stack of drawing paper and supplies. Guess it was easy to miss if you thought you were just looking at a pile of art stuff.”
Tommy looked over at Ginny and the expression he saw on her face was pure torment. Ginny had already confided in him years before about the horrible guilt she felt after Moe’s suicide. How she hadn’t noticed Moe’s despair. He knew what she was thinking.
“Don’t think it, Gin. Don’t even think it. You missed a notebook that looked like it belonged with a pile of her drawing stuff. I missed it, too.”
“I missed everything that was important,” Ginny said a little too loudly, her voice thick with unshed tears.
Louise held up a hand. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to bring bad memories or anything like that to your door. I was just trying to do what Mom wanted.” She looked at Ginny directly. “You know, Mom didn’t want you to have this until after Grizz died. Maybe it’s better that you didn’t find it back then.” She paused, then added, “That’s just my opinion. I’ve taken enough of your time. I can see myself out.”
Tommy and Ginny watched her leave. Then they looked at each other, and then the notebook.
“Moe’s journal wasn’t the only surprise today,” Tommy told her quietly.
“You’re telling me? Let’s just add it to the pile of garbage that is going to trigger the end of life as we know it.” At his curious expression, she gave a short laugh and began to tick off the day’s events on her fingers. “Let’s see, you’re Grizz’s son, Moe had a secret journal, Corbin told Jason we went to see some guy get fried, what else? What else could there possibly be, Tommy?”
“We got a delivery today, other than the journal.”
“Oh, yeah? What did we get?” she asked bitterly.
“Grizz’s chess set.”