He sighed. “It doesn’t surprise me.”
Her mind was racing. “Do you think it’s possible Jeff is behind Ethan’s kidnapping and the ultimatum?”
His brow creased. “That doesn’t make sense. Why now, after forty-five years?”
To punish her, of course, but how could she explain that to Jonathan? “What happened between you and Gertrude?” she asked instead.
“Well, I can’t say we went out with a whimper,” he said. “It was quite a scene, actually. Not like anything I’d experienced before, or since.”
He glanced over at the young man and woman who were tasting each other’s ice-cream cones at the counter. “She was very angry with me,” he said. “I would say disappointed, but it went much deeper than that.”
“Why? What did she want from you?”
“To share her ideals. To join her.”
“But you didn’t want to commit to something political that might hurt your future?”
“Oh, dear, Diana. That sounds a bit harsh.”
“Help me understand.”
“I’m afraid it’s true,” he said. “I admired what SDS and the Weathermen and Stormdrain wanted to accomplish. At least, initially. Stop the war. Fight prejudice against blacks. Make government accountable for its actions. But once the organizations decided violence was a justified means to their end, I wanted nothing to do with them.”
The doorbell chimed. The young couple left with their ice creams. The man walked naturally, completely at ease in his artificial limb.
“But Gertrude did,” she said.
“Gertrude not only advocated violence, she demanded it.” His eyes had become moist and shiny. “She insisted I join her in her ultimate grand gesture, or else. I told her I wanted no part of it, or of her. She left my room, angrier than I’ve ever seen anyone.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe I could have saved her.”
“Nothing could have saved her,” Diana said.
He put his glasses back on. “I imagine you tried.”
The breath snagged in her chest. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” He waved his hand ineffectually. His face was flushed.
Jonathan was holding something back.
“What else haven’t you told me?” she said.
He ran his tongue over his lips. “I knew you back then.”
“You knew me?”
“Well, not exactly. I knew who you were. I knew you were Gertrude’s roommate.”
His face went in and out of focus. This man she loved and was planning to marry had lied to her.
Deceived her.
Just like Larry had.
“Please don’t be upset with me, Diana.”
“Did you know who I was when we met?” she asked.
“I wasn’t sure. When we were first introduced at the Columbia event, I thought it was you, even though your name was different. You haven’t changed much, though I certainly have.” He touched his bald spot, a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. “I once had a full head of long red hair, a moustache and a beard.” He paused. “Did you remember me when we first met?”
“No. I would have said something if I had. Why didn’t you?”
“And tell you what, exactly? That I knew you’d been the roommate of an extremist from Stormdrain? A woman I’d had a relationship with? It would have been uncomfortable for both of us.”
“And later?” she asked. “When we got to know each other better? There were plenty of opportunities for you to have mentioned it.”
“As more time passed, it became awkward to bring it up.”
“Well, it’s no longer awkward, Jonathan. Now it simply feels like you’ve deliberately lied to me.”
“No, Diana. It isn’t like that.” He reached across the table for her hand. His fingers were cold. She pulled away.
She had trusted Jonathan. But if he had deceived her about knowing her in college and had never told her about his relationship with Gertrude, what else had he lied about?
“Tell me the truth, Jonathan. Why didn’t you ever talk to me about Gertrude or Stormdrain or April Fool?”
“I’ve tried very hard to block out those days.”
“Why?” she asked. “What was it to you?”
He stared at the white tiled floor, yellowed and cracked with age. “Losing Gertrude was devastating,” he said. “I loved her very much.”
The words smacked Diana across her cheek with an old, familiar sting. She felt violated and hurt, but she wasn’t sure whether it was because Jonathan had lied to her, or because the old rivalry between her and Gertrude was still alive.
But how could that be? Gertrude was dead.
CHAPTER 24
Two blond children around Ethan’s age were splashing each other at the shallow end of the hotel pool. Aubrey watched their parents put water wings on their arms and set out a pail with an assortment of plastic animals on the steps.
If only we could always be around to watch over our children. To forever be like the untouched family in her snow globe. She was glad Kevin had gone back up to his room and didn’t have to see this happy family. He had left abruptly after their talk, clearly upset. She had hoped to comfort him, but had only succeeded in bringing his feelings of guilt to the surface.
Given what she knew of family relationships, she shouldn’t have been surprised that she and Kevin had viewed that awful period in their childhood so differently, but she had been. For Kev, it had been the “War of the Lynds,” something he blamed himself for, while she had always associated the change in her parents with the kidnapping of Jimmy Ryce. Regardless of what had caused it, their parents’ subsequent coldness toward each other had left its mark on both her and Kev. They had spent much of their childhood careful not to do anything that might upset either parent.