Chapter 3 - MY MOTHER KNEW ABOUT THE RED CORD
"What third knot?"
My mother grabbed my hands.
"Mari, answer me. Did Ernest tie three knots around your waist?"
"No. He didn't tie anything."
She closed her eyes.
Relief crossed her face so quickly that it frightened me.
"Thank God."
Ernest stepped toward us.
"Linda, you have no business interfering."
My mother's name sounded ugly in his mouth.
She turned.
"You lost the right to tell me what to do twenty-seven years ago."
I looked between them.
"Twenty-seven years?"
Daniel seemed equally stunned.
"Mom?" he whispered, although she wasn't his mother.
Linda ignored him.
She picked up the red cord from the nightstand.
Ernest reached for it.
She pulled her hand away.
"Don't you dare."
Her voice was so sharp that Daniel stopped moving.
I'd always known my mother as a gentle woman.
She taught third grade for thirty-one years.
She cried during Christmas commercials.
She apologized to furniture when she bumped into it.
But the woman standing in my bridal suite looked capable of walking through a brick wall.
"Mom, how do you know about this?"
Her fingers trembled around the cord.
"Because Evelyn showed me one exactly like it."
The name hung in the air.
Daniel's mother.
The woman I'd only known through framed photographs.
"Did you know Evelyn?" I asked.
Linda nodded.
"Before either of you children were born."
Daniel stared.
"My dad told me you met at our engagement dinner."
"I know what he told you."
Ernest moved toward the door.
"This conversation is over."
My mother stepped into his path.
"No. It should've happened years ago."
Ernest looked at his son.
"Daniel, take your wife downstairs."
Daniel didn't move.
"Dad, what is she talking about?"
I noticed something then.
Ernest's confidence was beginning to crack.
For the first time that night, he looked like a man who hadn't planned for what came next.
My mother placed the cord on the dresser.
"That isn't a religious tradition, Mari. It never was."
Ernest scoffed.
"You're speaking about customs you don't understand."
"Then explain why Evelyn came to my apartment with bruised wrists and that cord hidden inside her coat."
Silence.
Daniel took a step backward.
"What?"
My mother turned toward him.
"Your mother was my friend, Daniel."
He shook his head.
"No. She grew up in Augusta. You lived in Savannah."
"People move."
"She never mentioned you."
"She wasn't allowed to."
Ernest's face hardened.
"Be careful, Linda."
My mother looked straight at him.
"Or what?"
He said nothing.
I felt as though the floor were shifting beneath me.
"Mom, why didn't you tell me?"
Her eyes filled.
"Because I thought I'd gotten you away from all of this."
"What does that mean?"
She looked at Daniel.
And suddenly I understood that her fear wasn't only about Ernest.
It was about my marriage.
"You knew who Daniel was when I brought him home," I whispered.
Linda's silence answered me.
I pulled my hands away.
"Mom!"
"I recognized his surname."
"Half of Georgia has familiar surnames!"
"I recognized his father."
I remembered that first Thanksgiving.
Daniel had come to our small house carrying a pecan pie.
My mother had been unusually quiet.
Later, she'd asked me whether Daniel was kind when we disagreed.
At the time, I'd thought she was simply being protective.
Now I wasn't so sure.
"Why didn't you warn me?"
"I tried."
"You told me to take things slowly. That's not a warning!"
Her face crumpled.
"I know."
Daniel sat heavily on the edge of the bed.
"My mother wasn't sick?"
Linda looked at him.
"She became ill, Daniel. That part was true."
"But?"
"She was also very frightened."
Ernest struck the dresser with his palm.
"Enough of these accusations!"
I flinched.
My mother didn't.
"Your wife was frightened of you, Ernest."
He pointed at her.
"My wife was troubled long before she married me."
"She was nineteen when she married you."
"She knew our traditions."
"She knew what your father demanded. That isn't the same thing."
Daniel covered his mouth.
I'd never seen him look so young.
For a moment, he seemed like that twelve-year-old boy hearing adults discuss things he'd never understood.
Then he looked at Ernest.
"Did you tie that cord around Mom?"
"Of course."
"Without her permission?"
Ernest hesitated.
"Marriage requires certain sacrifices."
Daniel lowered his head.
It was the same answer he'd given me, dressed in different words.
My mother reached into her cardigan pocket.
She pulled out a small silver necklace.
A simple oval locket.
I'd seen it throughout my childhood.
She wore it every Sunday and on special occasions.
But tonight, it hung from a chain clenched tightly in her hand.
"Evelyn gave me this before she disappeared."
Daniel's head jerked up.
"Disappeared?"
Linda went still.
I stared at her.
"Mom?"
She swallowed.
"I mean before I lost contact with her."
But we'd all heard the first word.
Daniel stood.
"My mother died in St. Mary's Hospital. Dad showed me her death certificate."
"Daniel," Linda said gently, "I'm not saying she didn't die."
"Then what are you saying?"
"That she tried to leave before she became ill. And afterward, Ernest made sure nobody from her old life could speak to her."
Ernest laughed bitterly.
"You have no idea what happened inside my marriage."
"Then tell your son why his mother begged me to keep this."
Linda opened the locket.
Inside was a tiny photograph of Evelyn holding a baby.
Daniel.
On the other side was a folded scrap of paper.
My mother carefully removed it.
The paper had yellowed.
Its edges were soft from years of handling.
She unfolded it.
There were four lines in faint blue ink.
Linda, if anything happens to me, don't let them call this love.
The cord isn't a blessing.
It's a promise they force us to make.
Please protect the next bride.
I read the words twice.
The next bride.
Me.
My chest tightened.
"Protect her from what?"
My mother wiped her eyes.
"I never knew everything."
Ernest suddenly reached for the note.
Daniel intercepted his hand.
"Don't."
Father and son stared at each other.
Then Ernest spoke in a low voice.
"You have no idea what you're risking."
Daniel looked exhausted.
"Then stop threatening us and explain it."
Ernest adjusted his wedding cuff links, although he was no longer wearing his jacket.
It was a strange little gesture.
Something he did when he needed time to think.
Finally, he said, "My father's estate was placed under a family trust. Certain conditions must be fulfilled for Daniel to inherit."
I stared at him.
"Conditions involving my body?"
Ernest didn't answer.
Daniel spoke instead.
"There's a ceremony. A signed acknowledgment. Once it's completed, the trustees release the final portion of the estate."
I turned slowly.
"You knew about paperwork?"
He nodded.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought it was just a formality."
"What exactly was I supposed to acknowledge?"
Daniel looked at his father.
Ernest remained silent.
My mother took the cord and examined one end.
Then she frowned.
"Mari, get me better light."
I switched on the dresser lamp.
She held the red thread closer.
Something small glittered inside the woven fibers.
A tiny gold clasp.
She worked it loose with her fingernail.
Attached was a narrow metal tag, no larger than a grain of rice.
Three letters were engraved on it.
E.V.H.
Evelyn Victoria Harwood.
Daniel's mother.
My mother went pale.
"Oh, Evelyn."
She turned the tag over.
There was a date.
And beneath it, a single word.
SECOND.
Daniel whispered, "What does that mean?"
My mother stared at Ernest.
He looked away.
May you like
Then she asked the question that changed everything.
"Ernest, where is the first cord?"
