Chapter 3
Still inside the car, Marlena looked at the house on her right. Its white clapboard shone in the slowly lowering sun. It appeared to be an older farmhouse that had been renovated from top to bottom. Shaped symmetrically and with two large gables on the second floor, it sported a covered porch all along its front. Marlena liked it immediately. Evelyn directed her into the driveway alongside the house that led to the three-car garage.
Out of the way of any incoming or outgoing traffic, Marlena turned the ignition off, and exited the car. Her luggage was in the trunk. She had not brought much, again, due to not being certain that she would even stay one night in Napa. Evelyn offered to help her, but just then the front door opened and John hurried across the lawn's paver stones to her side.
He beamed at her, gave her a kiss on the cheek, saying, "Great. You're here. Let me take that for you." He smiled at Evelyn too. "Thank you very much for your help, Mrs. Kaine."
"You're welcome!" she replied. "I'll be heading on home now, unless you need something else?"
"Nope. Not a thing. See you Monday."
Marlena realized Evelyn was going to walk back. "Now that I know the way, I can take you back to your car, Evelyn…"
"Oh, no thank you. The walk will do me good. The parking lot is even closer than the office after all." And she set off briskly.
No longer distracted by a third party, Marlena noticed that John had apparently already showered and changed his clothes. He now wore tan slacks and a soft, white, open-collared shirt. He ushered her into the foyer through the front door. Closing the door, he set down her two bags and said, "Welcome to my home, Marlena. Would you like a quick tour?"
Yes, of course she would. As John pointed out what was where on the first floor, she noticed the open floor plan of the Great Room and the kitchen and the dining room. She got a glimpse into his little office, and found out that two bedrooms were located on the first floor - the master bedroom, along with its beautiful bathroom and very generous walk-in closet; as well as another bedroom across the hall from it with the door closed.
She asked, "Is that Tommy's room?"
John grimaced a bit. "Well, yes and no. I'm transitioning him into it. Up until now his crib was in my room, but his pediatrician did tell me that I should move him into his own room, so reluctantly, I'm doing that."
A chuckle escaped her. "It's not easy taking those separation steps, is it?"
"No."
"Is Tommy here?"
John shook his head. "Actually, not tonight. I asked his Grandma - Grace's mother - who lives here in town, to take him tonight. She jumped at the chance because I'm usually jealous of my time with him."
Because Marlena looked disappointed, John assured her, "Don't worry, Doc. You'll see him tomorrow. Ginny - Ginny Collings - will bring him back in the morning - or, I'll go get him. But I thought it would be a good idea for us to spend this evening alone." He looked at her. "Is that alright?"
She quickly nodded. "Of course, it is. You're right. We should talk some more."
Taking her luggage again, he led her up the stairs to the second floor. There, in a tight configuration around a loft landing were four bedrooms and various sizes of bathrooms. He indicated one of the two larger ones, and said, "I'll put your things in here, okay? You can choose any room you like, but for now…" The room was light and airy with a full size bed neatly made up and a desk and its chair as well as an easy chair with strong light beside it. There was even a phone on the nightstand by the bed. And there was a bookshelf with a few novels and non-fiction books too.
"It's very welcoming and comfortable-looking."
John shrugged. "These rooms have been used by business guests mostly. Truth is, I hardly come up here." Then he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. "But now I've got the best reason ever to!"
She laughed and said, "I see you freshened up. I'd like to do the same if you don't mind."
"Of course. This bedroom has the largest and best equipped bathroom, so by all means. Dinner - which I ordered - is warming in the oven. So when you're ready come down, and we'll eat, okay?"
Touching his arm, Marlena said, "Thank you, John. I won't be long."
A short time later, Marlena descended the stairs and crossed to the kitchen and dining area. Before her a table for two had been set meticulously and she could smell something delicious, but she wasn't able to really identify it.
John looked up from his last-minute preparations as she approached. She had changed into a different dress. Rose-colored, it was also summery light but more tailored than the buttery dress of earlier. And it was modest. He guessed that she really did want to talk. "You look beautiful," he told her earnestly. She blushed.
He came and pulled out her chair for her. "Thank you, sir." she said.
Before she could ask, he told her, "A wonderful chef I know did me a great favor, and sent this meal for us. Sole Meunière with balsamic parmesan roasted asparagus and tomatoes and parsleyed small potatoes." He had plated the food, and he brought it to the table. Then he showed her a bottle of wine that he had opened already. "This is one of our Chardonnays, which will pair very well with the fish" Carefully, he poured the jewel-like liquid into her glass, not filling it very full. Marlena noticed that his hand shook a little. Then he poured for himself, also moderately. He remembered what she'd said earlier about needing a clear head, and he thought they both still needed that tonight.
Sitting down so they were at a forty-five degree angle from each other, he raised his glass. She raised hers. Clearing his throat, John toasted, "To you, Marlena, for traveling here, for bridging the gap, and for reminding me today that one really can't begin to predict what each day holds. I'm tremendously happy to see you. Salut."
Blushing again, Marlena echoed his "Salut" and tasted the Grafton Chardonnay. It's light kick of butter, vanilla, honeysuckle, and a touch of citrus really pleased her palate. "That's delicious, John."
He beamed again.
Neither of them had eaten for hours, so they relished the cuisine in silence. When their plates were polished, Marlena praised the meal enthusiastically.
"Would my lady care for dessert? We have fresh peach tart that my housekeeper baked today.
"That sounds very yummy. Would it be alright to wait a little while?"
"You bet. Let me just put a few things away in the kitchen. It might be nice to sit outside now. The temperature is dropping. We have a covered porch in the back too."
"I'd like that." But while John was cleaning up, Marlena wandered around the downstairs a little. She wanted to get a feeling for John's home. Her first impression had been that the place was somewhat impersonal. But she realized she'd been wrong. John had just cleaned up a little. She now saw some of Tommy's toys stashed behind the sofa. She spied a book John was apparently reading face down on the arm of a chair, and she remembered him doing the same thing in their home back when. She took notice now of the pictures hanging on the wall. The thing was, she didn't know who the folks in them were. It reminded her sharply that he lived in a completely alien world now; one that she didn't know and would be a stranger in.
John knew what she was doing, and he was pretty sure he knew what was running through her mind. He went to stand behind her and lightly placed his hands on her shoulders. She reached up her hands and caressed his fingers. Gently John moved her to the first picture. He raised his index finger and pointed at the man and woman in the black and white photo that had probably been taken in the 1930's. "Those were my grandparents, Stephen and Laura Grafton. They started this winery. There is a very large color painting of them in the wine tasting room, which you can see tomorrow.
After a moment, he moved to another photo, quality color, this time. "That" - he indicated a photo of a man - "was my father, Christopher Grafton." Next to him was a woman's picture whom Marlena correctly surmised was John's mother. "Yes, Mary was her name."
"When were those taken?"
"In the seventies, after I went missing."
Marlena stepped up to them to examine them more closely. She nodded. "You have your mother's blue eyes and mouth and your father's chin and nose. It's as plain as day."
"Yah, that's what my mother said too."
Turning to look at him, Marlena said, "So your parents were still here when you came home?"
"No. No, not my father. He died fighting a fire here in 1988."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, since I was their only son, their only child. and they thought I'd died, he had selected someone among his employees to succeed him as president, and that man ran the winery until he moved on to another opportunity, and I took over."
"You know, Doc, Grace did know my father. She worked here briefly when she was just out of college, and had some interaction with him."
"What did she say he was like?"
John was sitting on the arm of a chair now and Marlena decided to sit on the other arm.
"Well, she was a young woman then, and he was around fifty. But she said he was always the gallant gentleman. He did his best to mentor her and others who were starting out their careers. He was always working to improve the lot for the vineyard workers too, and she liked that. But he wanted Grafton wines to be premium wines and he also wanted to expand the land on which Graton wines grew. He was very driven by those two aims, she said. She heard from others that he could get frustrated if someone wasn't giving the winery their best, and he wouldn't stand for anyone who worked against his drive to make this winery constantly improve. Oh, yes, and she remembered seeing him and my mother dancing at a vineyard party. She said it was obvious they loved each other very much."
John looked away, suddenly a little overcome. He still didn't remember a single thing about his first eighteen years here. He was 99% sure he never would. But he was so grateful that his parents had loved each other - while he'd been with them and after he'd disappeared.
Reaching out she held his closest hand, squeezing it in solidarity and understanding.
"But your mother, John. You did see her again, right?"
Squeezing her hand back in a silent thanks, John nodded. "Oh, yes. After I left Salem, I went to St. Louis for a while. There was a former cop there who was now a private investigator, and I asked him to see what he could do about finding out where I came from. Then I sought out another fellow who was an FBI agent in D.C., and enlisted his help. I also contacted Shane, and he too agreed to see what he could do. Abe also checked some things for me. I followed up on some leads myself, and a few months later, the pieces came together."
Cocking his head, John looked at Marlena's beautiful face, "I'm sure it must have been scary for you to walk into the winery today. I know how you felt, I think. The same way I felt when I came here over three years ago. I couldn't - and didn't want to - talk to Mary Grafton first. So I made an appointment with the fella I mentioned - his name is Bob Harding - who was president here. I came in, armed with all my evidence that I was the long-lost John Grafton. But, I still didn't have DNA proof. I would need my mother for that. So, I set it all out for him, and asked him to ease open the subject with her. I knew by then that she still had some say about what happened at Grafton Wineries. At the time, I didn't have the least thought of actually taking up residence or working here. I just wanted to know if I really was John Grafton. Then I planned to go somewhere else - maybe even to the ISA."
Marlena's eyes grew wide when she heard that. "The ISA? Oh, John. I'm so thankful you didn't do that."
"I know. It was the way I felt then." He shrugged. After a few moments, he resumed his story. "Bob Harding was naturally skeptical. He didn't say it outright, but my guess is there were a few other men who had tried to claim the John Grafton identity. Around here, the disappearance and presumed death of - me - was still known by quite a few people. Anyway, I told him I really needed to know, and if he didn't help me I would have to find another way. A few days later, he called me at the local hotel where I was staying. He said he had given Mrs. Grafton my picture and shown her my evidence. She didn't care too much about the evidence, but when she saw the photo, she told him to send for me right away."
"That must have been a nerve-wracking experience," Marlena observed.
"Yeah, you'd think so. But it really wasn't. Bob brought me to this house - although, the house was smaller and older-looking then - and before we got to the front door, my mother tore it open, and literally ran to me, calling my name." John was starting to tear up at the memory, and Marlena's heart ached for him. She knew if he started to cry, she would too.
Sniffling and clearing his throat, John continued, "She threw her arms around me, laid her head against my chest and cried tears of joy. She burbled, 'You've come home, son. Thank God you've finally come home.' It was kind of like the prodigal son coming back to his father, except it was my mother who welcomed me. Naturally, I started crying too, even though I wasn't yet sure I was her son."
Marlena got up, walked to his side of the chair and put her arms around him. "Oh, John, I wish I'd been with you and shared that moment. And I'm so sorry for all your pain in life. God knows you've had a terrible helping of it. What a grace it was that you found your family though - your mother anyway."
John stood and he pulled Marlena properly into his arms, hers around his neck and his around her back. And they held each other like that.
Both calmed, John kissed her nose and said, "Shall we go outside? Maybe have that peach tart now? I can tell you the rest then."
When they were settled on the porch chairs in the twilight and had eaten the delicious tart, John resumed right where he'd left off. "My mother was 32 years old when she gave birth to me, so she was in her seventies when I met her. We did the DNA tests -" Suddenly, John frowned.
"What is it?" asked a somewhat alarmed Marlena.
"I was just thinking that if there were problems with the DNA tests we had done with the imposter, maybe there could have been some tampering on these tests too!"
"No, honey, I don't think so. You really do look like Christopher and Mary Grafton. And besides that you have an incredible sense of smell, which surely must mean that you were born into a winemaking family." She grinned at him.
John laughed at her comment, but sobered quickly. "Still. I think I should do another test."
"Can you? I mean, both of your parents are gone now, right?"
"Yeah, I have a way." He shook off his sudden suspicions, and spoke a little more of his mother.
"She was not well when I met her. She was fighting breast cancer. Like Grace, this was also her second fight. She'd been clear for a few years, and now it was back. But she spent hours and hours with me, telling me about my childhood and showing me a great many pictures, trying to wrench some memories of that precious time for her out of me. I failed miserably at that. And I was no better at filling her in on my years from the time I had the boating accident until I met you, Doc. But I did tell her about you and the kids. I told her that incredible story. She's the only one I told everything to here.
"She told me herself how much she loved my father, and she said to me, 'John, some people are gifted by God with a surpassing love for one other human being. God gave me your father, and he and I had that kind of love. I'm looking forward so much to seeing him again when my time here is finished. You, John, have been given that kind of love too. I know you feel it is hopeless right now, but God works in His own ways. I believe you will get another chance with your Marlena.' "
To keep himself from needing more tissues, John pushed himself out of his chair, and suddenly got on his knees before Marlena. He reached and took her hands in his. He looked into her watery (again) eyes. He said, "God is giving us that chance now. How I love you, Marlena. How I've missed you. Every day since we said goodbye, my soul has longed for you. I've got to take this chance. We've got to take this chance!" The fierceness of his determination reverberated between them.
But before Marlena could say "Yes, yes, I agree, we must," John shot to his feet, and stood looking outward over seemingly endless stretches of vines.
"Earlier you said that I needed to think about the repercussions of finding out about the imposter and Roman's death, and there's one thing that's like a vise around my heart."
An intense feeling of foreboding enveloped Marlena at those words, because she thought she knew what he was going to say. She rose and went to stand beside him. "What's that?" she asked in a whisper.
Grimly, desolately he said, getting louder as he punched out the words, "I should NEVER have left you, Carrie, Sami, and Eric with HIM. NEVER."
He adjusted his decibel level downward but balled his fists in frustration and anger and continued his rant. "I should have stayed, I should have fought for you. I know you told me to go, but I shouldn't have! I should have been strong enough to to resist the carnal temptations that plagued us. I should have dug deeper into that guy's past then. I should have had other DNA tests done in absolute secrecy! I left you. I left the kids without ever really saying goodbye or giving them an explanation. What kind of father - even an adoptive father - does that? Not a good one, not a faithful one. I know I hurt them so much by abandoning them. I was the only real father they knew. I had to be their only parent for four years, and then, just like that, I'm saying adios, and leaving them to some man who looks like Roman Brady but seldom acts like it. They have every right to hate me."
"They don't!"
"'I screwed up their lives, Marlena! My weakness, my cowardice hurt them when my duty and my true desire was to protect them and shepherd them forward on their drive to maturity. Did I think about what I was doing to them when I left? Not enough, that's for damn sure."
He was pacing the back porch like a ferocious tiger now.
This was what Marlena had feared the most. This bitter recrimination he was visiting upon himself. She had done the same thing herself already. She wasn't sure she should tell him that.
Stopping in front of her, John beseeched her, "How can we put the family together again when I've screwed up so badly? How?"
"John!" she said forcefully. She gathered his still fisted hands and held them between hers. "Listen to me. Listen. I know what you're going through right now. I know because I felt the same agonizing guilt when I heard the news from Shane. I beat myself up for having told you to go. I honestly thought then that removing you from the equation would reunite Roman (the genetic Roman Brady) with his children and his wife. It never occurred to me that the DNA tests could be faked at so many different laboratories. It never occurred to me that once you were gone, this so-called Roman would consider his mission completed and leave us to fend for ourselves. And even though he did that, I still thought he was Roman and that he had just been so hurt by all he'd gone through in those missing years and by finding out that I had thought someone else was him! I didn't lay the blame on him, where it should have gone - along with on Stefano too. No, I was too eager to take the blame myself."
John seemed almost mesmerized by her own rant. And she wasn't finished either. "I should have called you, John. I should have come to see you when the imposter first started leaving for long periods. When he first moved into the spare bedroom. When he wouldn't give the kids the time of day. But I didn't. I was too afraid of what people might think! Can you believe it! I was afraid of scandal, of malicious gossip hurting the children, and, yes, hurting me. It didn't occur to me that there was probably already gossip with so-called Roman hardly ever being home. I should have acted much, much sooner. But I failed to do so!"
John's jaw tensed and his eyes went dark with helpless fury. He started pacing again. "It's not your fault, Marlena. It's mine."
"No, John. It's both our faults, and I still think more mine than yours. But even more it's Stefano's fault. It's that imposter's fault. It's even the fault of people who carelessly and mindlessly judge what's going on in other people's families."
She stepped in front of him to stop his relentless pacing. "Please," she pleaded. "I know this is tearing you up inside. But the truth is, John, that we are all human. We are not perfect. Sometimes I want to be, and I punish myself in all kinds of ways because I'm not. I've always thought that you had a better handle on dealing with life more realistically than I. You forgive others so kindly, so willingly. And in our family, you were the one who knew how to deal with the kids on their level without it ever seeming that way to them. They loved that you came to their games, their schools, their events. They loved that you wanted to have conversations with them as well as play with them."
John shook his head, his face screwed up in denial. "What matters is, I LEFT THEM, MARLENA! And I didn't come back even when I got some hints from them - not so subtle hints from Sami - that "Roman" was just about completely AWOL."
"No, John. What matters is that you love them. You truly love them. Eric and Sami are eleven years old! They still have years for a father who loves them to make a huge difference in their lives - in shepherding them forward on their drive to maturity, as you so eloquently put it. You can still do that for them. And as for Carrie, she is married now. But I know that she will still want your guidance about how to handle certain things. She loves you very much. She's told me several times that she thought you were a wonderful father to her when Roman and I were both gone. 'I don't know what I would have done without John back then,' she's said. She knows why you left, and she understands, even though she's missed you. One time I asked her what made you a good father, and Carrie didn't miss a beat, 'He has tremendous energy and he will expend it on us. He will help with homework problems, he will listen to my boyfriend travails, he will play cars with Eric and Chutes and Ladders with Sami, he will go to our graduations and the Father/Daughter and Father/Son dinners. He's there for us because he loves being our father. What more could we ask?' "
Again, John fumed. "But that's just the point! I haven't been there!"
"But you can be again now!"
John was trying to pace again, but Marlena stood in his way. She reached up and took his head between her palms. "John. The world isn't perfect, as you so painfully know. None of us is perfect. We all make mistakes. We can't go back in time and correct them after we've seen from the future what idiots we were. We can only go forward and do our level best to be good to others and to ourselves."
Pausing just long enough to get a breath, Marlena added, "When I drove up here this evening with Evelyn she said her husband sometimes tells her that God laughs at our plans for our lives, so we should plan less and live more. We can't live life like a chess game. Well, maybe Stefano DiMera can, but most of us can't. We can't think twenty or even four moves ahead with any level of certainty. We've got to do what war commanders do, I think. We've got to admit that once the war (life) is in play, all bets are off on plans. Plans don't hold up to the reality of life on the march. I think Evelyn and her husband are right: we've got to live our lives and not think we can anticipate every eventuality."
John sighed. "I think my brain is fried for the night, Doc. I think I'm all talked out." He gave her a hug and a light kiss on the mouth. As he did that, he turned out toward the vineyard again and showed her the moon, still waxing, nearly full.
"This is a beautiful place, John."
"It is that. You know, my mother was born in Napa. She and my father went to the same schools just a year apart. They dated in high school, and then they went to different colleges. Four years later, they returned (because my mother completed all her courses in three years instead of four), and my father started working at the winery full-time, while my mother worked as the high school librarian. They married a year later, but had no children until I finally came along. There were no more after me either. Eighteen years later, they lost even me, and it was just the two of them again. But they stayed here, they lived their whole lives here. Just like Shawn and Caroline Brady or Tom and Alice back in Salem. I guess my point is that rootedness seems to be good for marriages. Problem is, now I've got two places calling to me…"
He sighed again, looked down at her. "Guess I wasn't all talked out yet after all. But now I am."
Marlena nodded. She knew more talk was pointless right now. She felt at her side for his hand and squeezed it. The night coolness was taking over, and she was ready to go inside.
"I'm going to go up to bed in that lovely guest room, John. I'm still on Salem time, and I need some sleep. I love you, John Black. John Grafton. Roman Brady. I love you."
As they meandered slowly into the house and through it, John answered, "I love you, Marlena." Watching her climb the stairs to the loft, he said simply, "Sleep well."
"You too, John."