Free Journals of the Secret Keeper by Jennifer L Ray Page A

to his skin and he trembled. Walking
uninvited into her room had been a colossal
mistake. He was not a lustful man, but he had
exacting and unchanging tastes. He found Willetta
extremely desirable and that would not change or
lessen. He would have to be careful.
It was anyone's guess why Mama Jean felt
that a union between him and Willetta was
plausible. The fact that she even suggested such a
thing to Willetta bothered him.
A connection
between Mama Jean's request that Willetta marry
him and Martha Thompson's sudden appearance
was unlikely, yet very suspicious.
The only thing
he knew for sure was that Willetta didn't know
anymore than he did and that Mama Jean was dead.
    CHAPTER 16
Volume 14, pg.5 (January 1911):
"She back
already from Georgia. She got a child with her
and say we gone call her Willetta. The child is
scared to death. I'm scared too. I think she
done lost her mind. She got this wild look in
her eyes."
#
    Willetta sat next to Andrik in the wide swing
and sipped hot chocolate. It was creamy, thick, and
absolutely delicious. She wanted more as soon as
she finished, but satisfied herself with a few apple
fritters instead.

"Where did you get these?" She was
surprised at how good they were.
"I made them," Andrik said.
Willetta believed him wholeheartedly. He
was a man of many hidden values. She sensed that
he was completely self-sufficient and his cooking
skills were inevitable. He seemed perfectly capable
of taking care of himself in every way.
"These are really good," she murmured with
her mouth full.
Andrik's eyes never left her lips as she
chewed on his apple fritters. All cooks liked to see
people devouring their food. Willetta's bliss over
his fritters was giving him a bliss all of his own. He
laughed when she licked her fingers and reached for
another one to find the plate empty.
"Now maybe we can talk about your new
grandmother," he said.
Willetta sighed and settled against the
pillows. Her pajamas were made of cotton and
covered every inch of her body except for her head,
hands and feet. She curled her feet beneath her and
folded her hands in her lap.
"I believe she is my grandmother," she
began slowly. "But I don't know how Martha and
Mama Jean are connected. She talks like she knew
Mama Jean pretty well. It bothers me that Mama
Jean never mentioned her. There are a lot of
questions that need to be answered."
Willetta was talking to Andrik, but her
thoughts were more meditation than conversation.
She almost forgot Andrik was sitting beside her
until he spoke.
"I've known Mama Jean all my life and I
don't recall her having any relatives around, which
is kind of strange don't you think," Andrik asked.
"Did she always live in the little house down
the road," Willetta said.
"Yes. One time I asked her why she
wouldn't come live with us in this house and she
laughed and said she couldn't watch over me if she
lived right under me." I never knew what she meant
by that.
"Well, that was a very interesting answer
she gave you. You probably should have asked. I
know what you mean though. She always did say
strange things." Willetta said.
They settled into an easy silence as Andrik
made the swing glide smoothly to and fro. Willetta
felt herself slipping off to sleep. She was tired. It
had been a very long and emotional day. She was
glad for Andrik's company. Death was never a
pleasant thing, but death down a Mississippi
country road with buried journals, mysterious
grandmothers, and century old Victorian houses
was not a thing for the faint of heart or the lonely.
#
Willetta awoke the next morning to find
herself alone in the swing. Andrik had thrown a
blanket over her and she was very comfortable.
Cool air filtered through the screens. She snuggled
further into the swing and under the blanket. She
looked out across the fields and thought the golden
brown blades contrasted nicely with the emerald
blue of the sky. She heard knocking at the door and
realized it was the noise that had awakened