Taking refuge in the large, oversized leather chair, I glanced through each journal and put them in chronological order. I opened the first leather bound book, smelling the years it held inside.
The journals started off with my grandmother discussing things women in her day were not allowed to discuss. She was appalled by the actions of her father toward her mother as well as her brother’s strictness with his new wife. She often heard him shouting at her for being careless and clumsy. She had intervened a few times, only to be met with the disapproving eyes of her mother as her father punished her.
Though her prior letters had confirmed that she was, indeed, being courted during the time she met my grandfather, the journal put a name to the man. Samuel Patrick McCloud. Apparently, she was deeply in love with him. There were pages and pages full of his gestures and declarations of love.
Then the story takes a different turn. Samuel became more pressing on the physical side of their relationship, though they were not yet married. Isobel stood her ground firmly but the fear of losing him, and the future she had planned with him, had won. Months had passed and the physical aspects of their relationship had grown. However, during this time, she caught the attention of Aidan Walsh Iverson, an up and coming businessman.
Isobel was intrigued by him but in love with Samuel. Grandfather was persistent. Enough so, that she began a secret friendship with him; keeping it friendly but still inappropriate for a woman at the time.
Toward the end of the first journal it seemed Samuel began to change, for the worse. Once he discussed marriage to Isobel with her father, he changed. He became like her father and brother. Her opinions and voice no longer mattered. He often threw in her questionable behavior. He even used her willingness to become physical so quickly against her. Questioning her innocence.
Jay arrived with fresh coffee. I was so enthralled in the journals, in my grandmother’s past, that I barely noticed his presence.
The second journal continued in the same tone. Samuel was becoming harsh and degrading. Isobel tried to stay strong and even stood up to him a few times. It was during one of those times that her life came crashing down around her.
During a discussion at a party, Isobel voiced her opinion. Samuel was appalled and dragged her away from the party. On the way home in the carriage, he stripped her of clothing, ignoring her cries to stop. He took her without one interruption from the driver.
‘He took everything. My innocence, my trust, my love…everything. It’s all gone.’
Her words caused me to pause for a moment, but I couldn't stop reading.
Samuel then ended the engagement by question of her virtue, going as far as to call in a doctor to examine her. Her mother and father were shamed, blaming her for her indiscretions without bothering to listen to what had actually happened. Months had passed and Isobel was pregnant with a bastard child. Her family threw her from their home, putting her into the home of her spinster aunt.
Shamed at the state she was in, she refused to write my grandfather or accept his letters. The refusals eventually brought him to her aunt’s doorstep one winter. She tried to politely dismiss him, and when that failed she flat out told him she was pregnant with a bastard child. My grandfather proposed on the spot.
Isobel refused the proposal and sent him on his way but my grandfather, being relentlessly persistent, would not go away. He sent her tokens and words of praise and love but they all fell on deaf ears. She had heard it all before.
Then came a day that changed everything. At barely four months pregnant, Isobel began to have complications. She became gravely ill and lost the baby. She was unconscious for over a week and woke to Aidan by her side.
Over time, Isobel had learned that her parents had done nothing when she fell ill. Aidan had been the one to ensure the doctors took care of her. Isobel was saddened by the loss of the child but woke with a new perspective. Aidan didn't run or leave her shamed. He fought for her well-being and accepted her at her worst. They married two months later.
The creak of the door pulled my attention from the journal in my lap. Lilli stood, cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt and a long robe, in the doorway.
"What are you doing?"
She waddled toward me.
"Reading my grandmother’s journals." I moved the journal off of my lap.
Standing next to me, she picked up one of the journals.
"It’s quite the story." I spoke as I pulled her into my lap.
"Stop, I’ll crush your legs!"
"You're fine." I sat her down. "Oh God, my legs. They’re going numb!"
"Asshole." With a light slap to my chest, she started to move.
"Aw, come on, I was just kidding." I wrapped my arms around her, stopping her from getting up.
"Nope, you’re an asshole." She laughed and moved next to me in the oversized chair.
"But you love me." I raised an eyebrow in question.
"Maybe. I think I may be reconsidering." She playfully scowled.