Chapter 14 - The Garden Without Chains)
Six months later, the stone pillar was removed.
Conrad had considered destroying it immediately.
Instead, he waited until Elliot decided.
The child therapist explained why.
"Control matters after something frightening happens."
So Conrad asked.
"What should we do with the pillar?"
Elliot thought for several days.
Then one morning at breakfast, he said, "Make it a birdbath."
Conrad smiled.
"Okay."
The pillar was cut down.
The chain attachment disappeared.
A wide stone basin was installed on top.
By spring, sparrows gathered there every morning.
Elliot loved watching them.
The pergola was rebuilt too.
Not as before.
The old formal structure had been designed for parties.
The new one became part of a children's garden.
Small vegetable boxes.
Strawberries.
Sunflowers.
A sandbox.
A weatherproof art table.
And a bright red watering can Elliot insisted belonged beside the roses.
Conrad reduced his travel by more than half.
The company survived.
That discovery offended him slightly.
For years, he had behaved as though Bellafonte Holdings would collapse if he missed a meeting.
It did not.
Executives made decisions.
Board members did their jobs.
Airplanes continued flying without him inside them.
On Tuesdays, Conrad left the office at three.
No exceptions.
He picked Elliot up from preschool himself.
The first time he arrived, Elliot stood at the gate staring.
Then ran toward him.
"You came."
Conrad knelt.
"I said I would."
Elliot wrapped both arms around his neck.
That became their ritual.
You came.
I said I would.
Small repairs.
Exactly as Celeste had written.
Mrs. Hart remained at the estate.
Conrad did fire her.
For twenty four hours.
Then Elliot cried.
Mrs. Hart cried.
Conrad reconsidered.
Her new job title became household director.
Her contract included one unusual clause drafted by Samuel.
She was never permitted to remove Elliot from the state without written parental authorization unless an immediate threat to life existed.
Mrs. Hart signed it.
Then added by hand:
Fair.
Samuel laughed for several minutes.
Elias returned to Connecticut for the first time in years.
Conrad offered him his old position.
Elias refused.
"My knees barely survived the first time."
Instead, Conrad funded the expansion of Elias's furniture workshop.
Not charity.
Investment.
Elias accepted only after negotiating a ridiculous interest rate in Conrad's favor.
"You Bellafontes need to learn people can say no to you."
Conrad smiled.
"I've been receiving that lesson frequently."
Julian was sentenced to several years in federal prison.
Conrad did not attend.
Before sentencing, Julian sent a letter.
Conrad nearly threw it away.
Celeste's words stopped him.
Hold him accountable for the man he chose to become.
Accountability did not require silence.
Conrad read it.
Julian did not ask forgiveness.
That helped.
He wrote about Agatha.
About growing up knowing someone rich existed somewhere who sent checks but never birthdays.
About seeing Conrad's photograph in business magazines.
About deciding, long before meeting him, that every good thing Conrad possessed represented something stolen from him.
Then one sentence caught Conrad.
I became so committed to proving you had stolen my life that I never noticed I was spending mine.
Conrad read that line twice.
He never wrote back.
Not then.
Perhaps someday.
Agatha received a longer sentence than Conrad expected.
Financial crimes carried weight.
So did the evidence of systematic planning.
Her lawyers appealed.
Samuel expected some counts might eventually change.
Conrad no longer followed every filing.
Agatha wrote to him weekly at first.
Then monthly.
He did not answer.
Eventually a letter arrived addressed to Elliot.
Conrad did not open it.
He returned it.
Agatha was not entitled to access simply because she wanted it.
If Elliot chose contact when he was older, that choice would belong to him.
One afternoon, nearly a year after the garden party, Conrad sat beneath the new pergola while Elliot painted rocks.
"Blue one is Mommy."
Conrad looked up.
"Why blue?"
"She likes blue."
Conrad smiled.
"She did."
Elliot painted another.
"Gray is Grandpa."
"Grandpa Dominic?"
"Yes."
"Why gray?"
"Hair."
Conrad laughed.
Elliot picked up a third rock.
"Black is Grandma."
Conrad hesitated.
"Why black?"
Elliot shrugged.
"Her car."
Conrad almost laughed again.
Children rarely carried symbolism with the sophistication adults projected onto them.
Then Elliot selected a brown stone.
"Julian."
"Why brown?"
"Dirt."
That one may have contained symbolism.
Conrad watched him paint.
After a while, Elliot asked, "Is Grandma bad?"
Conrad considered his answer carefully.
"Grandma did bad things."
"Is that same?"
"No."
Elliot looked curious.
"Why?"
"Because if we say a person is only bad, we stop thinking about choices."
Elliot frowned.
Too complicated.
Conrad tried again.
"People choose what they do."
"Grandma chose chain."
"Yes."
"Julian chose mean."
"Yes."
Elliot dipped his brush into green paint.
"Daddy chose punch."
Conrad paused.
"Yes."
"Was that bad?"
Samuel, sitting twenty feet away with coffee, began laughing.
Conrad glared at him.
Elliot waited.
Conrad sighed.
"Yes."
"But Julian was mean."
"Yes."
"You still punched."
"Yes."
"Mommy says justice."
Conrad stared.
"How do you know that?"
Elliot pointed toward the letters inside the garden reading box.
Conrad had begun reading selected parts of Celeste's letters aloud.
Apparently Elliot remembered more than expected.
Conrad nodded.
"Mommy was right."
Elliot thought.
"Next time call police."
Samuel nearly spilled his coffee.
Conrad smiled.
"Excellent advice."
Elliot returned to painting.
Then he asked something that took Conrad by surprise.
"Is Mommy happy?"
Conrad looked toward the garden.
He did not know what he believed about death.
He knew what he hoped.
"I think she'd be happy you're safe."
Elliot nodded.
"And you came."
Conrad's throat tightened.
"I came."
The child smiled.
Celeste's smile.
May you like
Exactly.
Conrad realized he could look at it now without needing to escape.
