One Small Envelope

It had been raining hard all morning, and it put a damper on her plans to go shopping. There were no currently no guests staying at the inn and Tracey was really bored. She had taken over the day-to-day management of Burnside Inn when she graduated from college. Ever since her family had opened the bed and breakfast, she had helped out. It was during her senior year in high school that she decided to pursue a degree in Hospitality Management. Emily, her grandmother, was thrilled with that decision. Tracey, Gwen, her mother, and Emily had worked hard to create the reputation the B & B attained. It was well known for its comfortable room and good food, and had many repeat guests.
The business had opened in 2000, when Tracey was 12 years old. When her grandparents had purchased the property, the old farmstead was in serious disrepair. It took almost a year for all of the extensive renovations to be completed. The guesthouse in the rear of the property was the first to be done. The first floor was converted office space and the second floor was set up as a guest suite for visiting family members. The barn was redesigned to be multi-purpose. The loft area housed two conference rooms on one side and the other was a suite of rooms for brides to use on their wedding days. The lower floor could be used for large business meetings, parties or wedding receptions. The main house had five bedrooms on the second and third floors, and these were reserved for guests. The main floor had a sitting room and dining area for those staying at the inn, and separate living quarters for the family.
When they first opened, most of their guests were there for either the Civil War history in the area, or the one of the many horse show events at one of the surrounding farms. It was around 2005 when Tracey was getting ready to go away to school that she broached the subject of adding information about the local winery tours to their brochures and website. It turned out to be a very smart move. The wine industry in the surrounding Virginia countryside was on the rise, and few vineyards opened in the surrounding towns. The fledgling wine businesses loved the exposure from the summer and fall tours. It was soon not so unusual for multiple couples to book time at the inn and combine the wine tours with tours of Antietam and Gettysburg. Winters tended to be a slow time for guest bookings and today was one of those days.
So rather than sit around a feel out of sorts all day, Tracey decided to go up to the attic and explore. When they were younger, she and her friends had had many a fun day rummaging through the old trunks of clothes and accessories stored up there. Her grandmother had quite a selection of gowns and shoes. Emily had lived for quite some time on the west coast in the Hollywood area. Tracey knew her grandfather, William, worked as a set designer with one of the major studios. Her great-uncle, Kit Felding, had been a major film star back in the 50's and 60's. So her grandparents attended tons of Hollywood parties and even strolled the red carpet a time or two. The trunks of glamorous gowns, hats and memorabilia had provided hours of enjoyment. It had been years since she had been up there and decided it was time for a trip down memory lane. It was close to noon, so she fixed a lunch for herself and a tray for her grandmother who was in the den by the fire reading
The den was Emily's favorite room. When the house was under renovation they kept the stone fireplace and added floor to ceiling bookcases on either side. Scattered amongst the book-lined shelves were pictures of her grandparents and her mother from their days in California. Recliners were close to the fireplace but positioned in such a way as to give the occupant a view of the gardens at the back of the house. Two large casements of leaded glass windows were salvaged and added to the back wall for specifically that purpose. Her grandfather, calling on his design background, was very involved in the renovation of the place. Tracey had seen some of the original renderings he had drawn up and was quite impressed with his artistic ability. He never made the move to Virginia though. He passed away from complications of pneumonia three months before the remodel was completed. They were devastated by the loss, Emily especially. Her friends had begged her not to go through with the plans.
"Finish the renovations and sell the place. Stay here. Why go back east now," they all told her
But Emily was not to be dissuaded. It had been a dream they had worked on together and she was going to see it through.
"Will would have wanted me to do this," she said. Eventually everyone gave up trying to talk her out of it.
Emily looked up and smiled when Tracey entered the room. Seeing the lunch tray she said, "You did not have to do that, my dear. I am quite capable of getting my own lunch. Besides, I thought you were going shopping?"
Putting the tray down on a side table she replied, "I know, but I had already made mine so it was no trouble to fix lunch for you too." With a tone of voice that betrayed a bit of annoyance she said, "Unfortunately, no shopping today, too miserable out there for me. I am planning on doing a bit of exploring though. I am headed up to the attic for a while. Haven't been up there is years. Will you be okay,' she asked Emily? Tracey adored her grandmother and worried about her all the time.
Emily smiled and ignored the question, as she usually did. She was not one for being fussed over. "Aren't you a little bit too old to being playing dress up?"
Tracey smiled and came right back with a quip of her own. "A woman is never too old be dressing up! Enjoy your lunch." With that, she headed off to the attic.
The attic stairs were in the hall on the third floor of the house. Grabbing the chain, she pulled down the access stairs and was greeted with a blast of damp,
musty air. She was happy that she had stopped in her room to grab a sweatshirt. Climbing the ladder, she reached for the light switch at the top of the steps. She was glad to see that the lights were still working. Pulling herself up to floor level, she was amazed at how many cobwebs and how much dust had accumulated. Starting to stand up, she bumped her head on one of the overhead beams forgetting that she was a lot taller than her last visit.
The leather trunks that she sought were on the wall at the far side of the attic, along with the old three-sided mirror that had been set up for the girls to use during dress-up. It was covered with many layers of dust, but still in one piece. She would have to bring this down and have it refinished and put it in her grandmother's room. When she was young, she never appreciated what a beautiful antique it was. Crawling over to the trunks, she sat down and started opening the cases to explore. Fond memories brought smiles to her face as she pulled out dresses, beaded bags and old shoes and hats. Another trunk contained old photos, many of them black and white and pretty faded. Time was taking its toll on them.
As she started to repack the trunk, she happened to notice a small packet of letters tied with a fading blue ribbon. Feeling a bit guilty for being so snoopy, she wondered if they were love letters from her grandfather. She took the packet out and gently untied the ribbon. Pulling the letters out to read them, she moved closer to a light to make out the fading handwriting.
"This is a lost art," she said to herself. No one she knew took the time to handwrite anything anymore.
The content of the letters was stunning, as was one of photographs tucked in with them. Tracey could not believe what she was reading. The handwriting was fading and in some cases the ink had bled into the stationery, but there was no mistaking the signature of the writer. Going back over to the open trunk, she checked to see if there were any more letters. That was the only set in the two open trunks. Putting back the clothes and other memorabilia, she gathered up the letters and the photo and climbed down the attic stairs. Closing up the stairway, she started brushing the dust and cobwebs from her long hair and clothes as she headed for the den. It was a bit tough to do one handed. In her other she clutched to pieces to a puzzle only her grandmother could solve.
As she entered the den she asked, "Grandmom, why was Kit Felding writing you love letters?"
Emily looked up at her and for a brief moment Tracey could have sworn that she saw sadness in her hazel eyes. She hurried across the room and sat in the chair opposite her grandmother.
As she handled the letters to Emily she asked, "Did you date him before Grandpop?"
Emily did not answer right away. As she stared at the faded photograph, Tracey could see that her grandmother was trying to pull herself together. Her hands were trembling slightly as she brushed the dust from the picture. Settling back into the recliner, Tracey waited patiently for Emily to speak.
After several deep breaths Emily said, "I had forgotten I kept these. Where did you find them?"
"In one of the trunks with a lot of old pictures from your time on the west coast," replied her granddaughter.
Emily sighed and looked up at Tracey. "I guess it is about time to give you the answers you have been looking for all these years." Seeing the surprised look on Tracey's face she laughed and told her that she knew all about the questions she always asked her mother.
Tracey had always heard it said that her grandmother was considered an unconventional woman for her times and always wondered what that meant.
"It is your grandmother's story to tell," said Gwen. "If you want to know, ask her." No matter how many times she asked her mother, she patiently gave the same response. "It is your grandmother's story to tell." Eventually Tracey gave up asking. She had forgotten all about those episodes, until today.
Putting the letters and picture on a side table, Emily stood up and walked to the fireplace to throw another log on the fire. She could see the multitude of questions in Tracey's eyes.
"Let me get us a glass of wine before I start my story," she said pouring them both a glass of Chambourcin. Tracey couldn't help but notice her shaking hands.
"If you would rather not tell me, it is alright," she told Emily. "I don't want you feel you have to do this."
"Well, before I start, just what exactly had you heard about me when your were young?" Handing Tracey her glass she returned to her recliner and sat down.
Tracey smiled at her. "I always heard you were an unconventional woman. As I got older, I thought that was just a euphemism for independent or headstrong. I did not see anything wrong with that. I have always admired your spirit."
Emily laughed and said; "Your mother always tells me that I was born a few generations too soon." Taking a sip of her wine, she picked up the letters and the picture again. She seemed lost in thought. Tracey did not want to do or say anything that was going to derail her grandmother's story, but the suspense was beginning to get to her.
"So what is the story with Kit?" Almost immediately, Tracey regretted blurting out the question. She really was going to have to work on her lack of patience. One more deep breath and Emily started to relate her story.
"At the age of 18, I was engaged to Kit. In the middle of the wedding preparations, Christopher, his real name, was offered a starring role in a movie. Unfortunately, the studio expected him to move to the Hollywood area right away. If the movie was a success he would be signed on with the studio and added to their stable of stars."
"My parents were totally against my going with him without a wedding ring on my finger. You know how different the societal norms were back then. Women didn't just up and move across the country with a man unless they were married. I wanted a full wedding, not some courthouse ceremony with a Justice of the Peace, just to keep the local tongues from wagging. We wanted to wait until the filming was done and then have the wedding. I saw this as an adventure and wanted to share it with Kit. I was young and in love. So, I decided I was going with him."
Tracey was so surprised with Emily's calm. "How did your parents react to your decision," she asked.
Again, sadness flickered in Emily's hazel eyes, the only thing betraying her calm presentation.
"They were furious with me, especially my father. The day I was to move, they came to me one more time to try and change my mind. My father gave me an ultimatum. If I went to Hollywood with Kit, I was no longer welcome in his house. It was not a pleasant scene."
Tracey sat in rapt silence. Never in a million years would she have expected hearing anything like this. After taking a sip of wine, Emily continued with her story.
"I told him I was sorry that he felt that way, but my mind was made up. My mother who had been silent up to that point, ran crying from the bedroom. I wanted to go after her, but my father blocked the way. He never let me say good-bye to her that day." Emily's voice was shaking with emotion at that point.
"You must have been so upset," said Tracey very softly. "Please, this is upsetting you. You don't have to do this." Emily shook her head at that and continued.
"I was so upset. I have to admit that. At the same time, I was also very angry with them. They thought I was going to shame the family name. That was thrown at me by my father that afternoon too." Tracey could hear the indignation in her grandmother's voice.
"You have to remember the time period, my dear. The reason I was so angry was so worried about the family name was the hypocrisy of it all. You see, my parents 'had to' get married. It was such a scandal in his hometown. My grandparents never accepted my mother and resented me."
Tracey could not contain herself at this point. "What," she cried! "How did you find out about that? I thought all those stories were never discussed back them. The family history that got swept under the rug, so to speak."
"My mother told me," Emily continued evenly. "It sort of slipped out during the dreaded mother-daughter talk. Even though I was fairly young at the time, I could not miss the shame in her whispered story. She told me all about the humiliation my father's family heaped on her. She told me she never wanted the same thing to happen to me." Emily was clearly agitated now. "Who says those kind of things to a young child? I made up my mind at the early age, that no one would ever make me ashamed of my decisions. No one was ever going to try to make me be what he or she thought I should be."
Tracey leaned over and touched her grandmothers shaking hands. "Are you sure you want to continue this," she asked? "This is upsetting you so. I wish I had not found those letters."
Emily shook her head. "I am glad you did. You need to hear about your family history." Again, Tracey saw the sadness in Emily's eyes. There was no disguising it this time. It was clear that Emily was going to get the whole story out, so she settled back in her chair to wait for her grandmother to continue.
"Enough about my parents, I know you really want to hear about what happened in California," said Emily. 'We found a small apartment in the suburbs of Hollywood, and I really do mean small, but that did not matter to us. I found a secretarial position to occupy my time during the day and we would talk for hours at night about the making of the movie and the latest gossip about the other actors and actresses at the studio. The movie was a success and it resulted in a very large contract for him. It was such a heady time for us. The party circuit was almost non-stop."
Tracey listened intently to the tone of the story. She could tell that despite the exciting beginning of their time together, there was some heartache to be revealed.
"As to why we never married," continued Emily, "I eventually found out through some friends that Kit had a lover on the side; a male lover. Unfortunately, I found out a bit too late to completely break off ties to him. I was pregnant with your mother when I learned of his double life."
Emily recounted all of this as evenly as she could. She wanted to see how Tracey was going to process this information. She picked up her wine glass and surveyed the emotions playing out on Tracey's face.
Tracey was stunned to say the least. Kit Felding was her grandfather? She did not know what to say to her grandmother.
"You look a bit like him, you know," said Emily, her voice shaking as she said it. "You have his eyes."
After a sigh and a ghost of a smile, Emily continued the story.
"Kit still wanted to get married when he found about the baby. The decision to call off the marriage was mine. I had no intention of playing second fiddle to his lover. You see, the marriage would only serve as a cover for him and the studio. Back then, there were morals clauses in contracts. The studios wanted no bad publicity, all the while knowing full well what was going on. It was all about reputations."
"I was furious with Kit for his thinking I would even go along with that scheme. I was even angrier with myself for being so nae. For quite some time I refused to even see him."
Tracey marveled at the woman seated across from her. Never in a million years would she have ever expected this story.
"I was quite surprised when I learned that he went out of his way to see that your mother and I were well taken care of. I eventually forgave him and began to let him back into my circle of friends. It was actually Kit who introduced me to Will. They worked at the same studio. Will was aware of the pregnancy from the start of our relationship. I was very wary of the attention. I even asked him if Kit was paying him to go out with me."
"You did what?" Tracey exclaimed, astonished at her grandmothers actions.
"I sure did," said Emily. "I was not about to let myself get used again. Will laughed at my question and said he had understood my need to ask it. He told me he would give me as much time as I needed to understand that he really loved me. When the time came for Gwen to be born, he even insisted that his name be put on the birth certificate. He made it quite clear to me he wanted to be her father. We knew we would eventually have to tell Gwen the whole story about her beginnings, especially since she was the flower girl at our wedding a year later."
Emily's face lit up at that memory. "Your mother was such a little doll. She stole the show that day!"
Tracey was glad to see that her grandmother was not quite so agitated anymore. She actually seemed to be enjoying telling the story now, so she asked, "So why did Kit stay around?"
"He wanted to be a part of Gwen's life and just wanted to be known as her uncle. He knew that eventually she would have to be told, but by then it would not matter to his career anymore. Kit provided well for your mother, so we agreed. I always suspected the studio knew about Kit, but as long as there was not a scandal, I think they just turned a blind eye."
Emily got up and went over to the fireplace to poke around at the logs on the fire. Once she was satisfied that they were burning nicely again, she walked back to the bar and refreshed their glasses of wine.
"Did you ever try to contact your family once you settled down in California?" asked Tracey taking the refilled wine glass from her grandmother.
"I wrote both of my parents. My letters to my father were returned unopened, my mother did write to me. It was not until I got married that she came out to see all of us. I guess in her mind it was okay to see me again. It was the last time that I got to see her. She passed away before Gwen's second birthday. I got a brief note from my father telling me well after her funeral. He said he had not wanted me there and had no interest in any further contact."
Emily paused here to glance out the window. Tracey saw her grandmother's eyes start to tear up. She could tell that Emily was still upset with that memory. It really was a pretty awful thing to do to one's daughter. She decided that Emily had told her enough.
"Grandmom, thank you for sharing all of this with me. That had to have been such a difficult time of your life, but you came through with flying colors! You have nothing to be ashamed of as far as I am concerned."
"Thank you, my dear," said Emily with a smile. "I could not have done it without Will."
Emily sat back and picked up her glass of wine and stared at the fire lost in her thoughts. Tracey sat quietly watching her. She knew Emily missed her husband, even after all these years. Tracey knew that the time was drawing near that her grandmother would soon join him. She was glad she got to hear the story directly from Emily. She could only wonder what other tidbits of family history were tucked away up in that attic.