Tracks Beneath the Clay, page 3
“Come kiss your momma first.”
Janice kissed her cheek. “Love you, Mom. Now, where’s the corkscrew?”
“In the drawer by the fridge,” Ruth said.
As Janice dug through the drawer, Ruth thought about how food had always been the language of love in her family. Conversations, plans, and confessions all happened over full plates and shared desserts.
“Janice, can you set the table? Your daddy is washing up.”
“Oh?” Janice glanced over. “What’s Dad been up to?”
“Just bowling, dear. Nothing crazy.”
“Remember when he fell off the roof and didn’t tell anyone until the doctor visit for his—what did he call it?”
“His bum leg.” Ruth smiled.
“That’s right. And it turned out to be broken!”
“It was just a hairline fracture.”
“Mom, that’s still a break. I didn’t hear about it until he had a cast on!”
“Well, we just don’t like to make a big fuss.” Ruth continued with the dinner prep.
“HA! "Falling from the top of a two-story building, not worth a fuss?”
“Sweetie, it’s all good now. Can you please tell your daddy that dinner is ready?”
These were the moments Ruth wanted to bottle like preserves. Just the three of them at the table. She had wanted more children, but Janice had been their miracle baby. Now retirement and travel were finally within reach. She only needed to get through this little bump in the road.
At dinner, she started to bring it up slowly.
“You know,” Ruth said after swallowing a bite and straightening her napkin, “I think I may want to do that family tree thing we talked about.”
“What’s that, dear?” Ed asked.
“She wants to learn about her family tree, Dad,” Janice explained.
“Oh.”
“That’s kind of cool, Mom,” Janice added. “I’d love to know where the relatives are. I only know Dad’s cousins.”
“Huh?” Ed said again.
“Nothing, Daddy. Just talking about family.”
“They’re a good lot. Just don’t loan them money,” he joked.
Ruth chuckled. “You know, my mother’s side was interesting. They were from Georgia. But not all of them stayed. A branch moved north to New York. Then, one of them, a girl named Nancy––no, Natalie, went back down during the Civil War. Caused quite a scandal.”
Janice perked up. “Really? What happened?”
“She was a spy. For the North.”
Janice’s eyes widened. “That’s wild.”
“I have a necklace made from a coin that’s been passed down,” Ruth said, touching her collarbone as if to feel the memory of it. “I’ll show you later.”
Ruth smiled, enjoying the moment. Maybe this wasn’t the right time for bad news. But the weight pressing on her chest wouldn’t let her wait.”
“Mom, how did your appointment at Bellevue go?” Janice asked, too casually.
Ed looked up. “What appointment?”
The air shifted. Warmth drained from the room. Ruth’s throat tightened, but there was no soft way to say it now.
“Skin cancer,” she said at last. It landed on the table like you would expect a wild boar to, sudden, violent, impossible to ignore.
The silence that followed was thick and unkind.
Janice’s tears came fast. Ed said nothing, just reached out, one hand on Janice’s back, the other finding Ruth’s.
“So that’s why you were at Bellevue?” Janice said.
Ruth nodded, a lead ball sinking in her stomach.
“So you lied to me.” Janice’s hand curled into a fist.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“We’re not super close, but God, Mom, I’m your only daughter. You can talk to me.”
The weight snapped Ruth’s temper. “This isn’t all about you. This is about me. What I’m facing. Either help, or don’t say anything at all.” She stood, threw her napkin down, and left the room.
Behind the locked door, her strength gave out. She slid to the floor, knees to her chest, tears falling freely. For a few minutes, she let herself break. Then, as always, she pulled herself together.
When she returned, her face was washed, shoulders squared, apron freshly tied. The silence was awkward and thick.
Ruth leaned against the counter, drying her hands. “You know who I thought about the other day?” she asked softly.
Janice looked up. “Who?”
“That boy you brought home. You were crazy about him. What was his name? Sean. Sean from Nashville.”
“The math tutor?”
Ruth nodded. “Lord, you were over the moon. Always blushing, writing his name in your notebooks.”
“You never liked him.”
“I didn’t trust him. Too smooth. Southern boys like that, always polished, always knowing what to say. But underneath…” She shook her head.
Janice smirked. “You and Jeff said he was ‘all charm and no spine.’ You were right. He thought women should stay home and raise kids. Said that’s what ‘real family values’ looked like.”
Ruth raised her brows. “He said that out loud?”
“Not at first. But it came out.”
Ruth folded the towel. “Then he found what he wanted. But it was never going to be you.”
“No,” Janice admitted. “Back then, I just wanted someone to choose me.”
“You did choose someone,” Ruth said. “You chose yourself.”
The kitchen fell quiet.
“Mom,” Janice asked softly, “who did Natalie end up marrying?”
Ruth’s brow furrowed. “I never really knew. Last I heard, she stayed down South. Barely eighteen. Maybe younger.”
Janice traced her glass. “Strange how someone like her, someone who spied to change things, ended up staying.”
“Maybe she did change things. Just not in the ways we’d expect.”
The screen door creaked. Ed sat alone outside in the porch light, shoulders heavy.
Janice touched his shoulder. “She’s going to need you.” Janice tipped her head to the inside of the house.
“I know.” His head bobbed; he rubbed his hands on his legs and blew out a long breath.
When Ruth joined them, he said quietly, “You should’ve told us sooner.”
“I didn’t know how.”
“You always know how. You just didn’t want us to know.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not. But I can’t help wondering what I missed.”
“You didn’t miss anything. I was hiding it.”
He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Strong doesn’t mean alone. You know that, right?”
“I’m learning.”
And for the first time that night, Ruth let herself be held.
CHAPTER SEVEN
⚘ THE FIRST BRANCH
It was not the night anyone thought it would be.
The word still hung in the air long after dinner ended. Skin cancer. Janice could still feel the echo of it in her chest as she helped clear the dishes, every scrape of a plate too loud, every silence too sharp.
Her emotions were a storm she could not name: Anger. Sadness. Fear. Guilt. All crashing into one another until she felt raw.
She was not sure what she could do, but she knew she could not sit in it alone. Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she sent a text to Jeff.
Janice: Hey, can you come get me from Mom’s?
Jeff: Are you OK?
Janice: No. Please come.
Jeff: OMW. Thirty minutes.
Glancing at her watch to mark the time, Janice paced. Through the window, she saw her father still sitting on the porch, one hand buried in his hair, staring blankly into the night. She opened the second bottle of wine, filled her glass to the rim, and stepped outside to sit beside him.
“Dad, are you okay?” she asked.
“No, Janice, I’m not.” He stood and left her sitting alone on the porch. “But, for the first time,” he said, “we will take care of Mom.”
He was right. Ruth had always been the glue, but Janice had never thought of her as a whole person. That realization settled heavily on her.
Janice stared into the night sky, struck by how little they truly knew of each other’s lives. The basics, yes, but not the undercurrents that shaped decisions. That distance was its own wound.
Her phone buzzed.
Jeff: Ten minutes.
When Jeff arrived, she left quickly, sliding into his car without looking back.
They drove to a rundown corner bar, dark and tired. Janice sank into a booth, trying to disappear.
“Two of whatever is on tap,” Jeff ordered.
He leaned back. “Okay. What happened?”
A few beers and soggy nachos later, Janice finally whispered, “What if she does not make it?” Tears burned in her eyes.
“They do not know anything yet,” Jeff said gently.
“Thank you for telling me you saw her. I am not sure she would have ever told us.”
“Cancer,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you going to move back in?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I can work from home, take her to appointments…”
“How is Ed taking it?”
“He seems…stunned. Lost.”
Jeff sighed. “Do you want me to take you back or home?”
“What about your place?”
“No room at our place, the in-laws are camped out. Trust me, you don’t want that circus tonight”
Despite everything, she smiled faintly. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You gave me an excuse to breathe. My mother-in-law could win gold in passive aggressive.”
Janice pressed her hand to her heart. “Thank you for being here.”
He dropped her off at her condo. She felt both physically and emotionally numb but lighter after talking. Jeff had always been her chosen brother, closer than anyone else.
Inside, she opened her laptop. Build a family tree, she typed. Dozens of sites appeared. She drummed her nails against the keys. This was going to be a long night. But maybe, finally, a way to make sense of it all.
Janice settled on an ancestry website and purchased the year’s subscription. What she thought would be a quick peek turned into hours. She lost herself in names and birth dates, piecing together branches that reached further than she expected.
She sent a text to her boss, letting him know she’d be working from home that day. He didn’t respond until after lunch, not that she was surprised. No one ever really noticed when she was gone.
There was always this feeling, like she didn’t quite fit in. She wasn’t sure why; it had always been that way. The odd one. The quiet one. The one overlooked. It didn’t always hurt, but sometimes it did. Not being invited to weddings or parties. Not being thought of first. Then again, she wasn’t sure she would have gone anyway.
Still, it stung.
She typed in her parents’ names, then her grandparents’. The website offered hints, birth years, places, and even a few family matches that looked promising. She cross-checked them against what little she knew and found they seemed accurate, but she wanted confirmation.
Janice scrolled through census records, the names stacking one after another until her eyes blurred. She leaned back, dragging both hands through her hair, tugging lightly at the roots as though she could pull clarity straight from her scalp. The gesture steadied her, a release of nerves she hadn’t even realized she carried. Then she bent forward again, jaw tight, determined to chase every name until the truth surfaced.
She looked up at the clock. Time to call Mom.
As she made the move toward her phone, it rang, and she saw “Mom” flash on the caller ID.
“Hello.” She was surprised they were on the same wavelength.
And then they both spoke at once.
They stopped. Ruth started, but Janice rushed ahead. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said and for running out.” She exhaled, relieved to have gotten it out, and leaned back in her chair.
“Oh, Janice,” Ruth replied softly.
There was another pause. Then both of them started again at the same time, stopped, and laughed.
It was exactly what they needed to break the ice.
“Mom?”
“Janice?”
“Before we talk about anything else,” Janice rushed out, “I need all the names you can remember in the family.”
“Why, honey?”
“I started building our family tree. This site is really cool; it gives hints, record matches, and all sorts of stuff.”
“Really?” Ruth sounded genuinely intrigued. “Oh, I want to see!”
“You can log in under my name. I’ll text you the username and password.”
“Okay. But why don’t you come over? We can talk about it in person.” Then, after a pause: “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work today? You usually don’t call until after.”
“Nah. I’m working from home. I just wanted to check in and see how I can help you. And show you what I’ve found so far.” Janice was proud of herself, proud to have done something instead of just worrying.
There was a long breath on the other end of the line. Janice recognized it instantly, the careful inhale, the heavy exhale. Her mother was measuring her words.
“The doctor said I’ll be alright,” Ruth said finally. “Please don’t worry. But… I do have a favor to ask.”
Janice sat straighter. Her mother never asked for favors.
“Of course. What is it?” She grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper.
Another pause.
“I think it’d be better if we talked in person,” Ruth said carefully, calculating each word.
“Well, of course,” Janice said, glancing at her calendar. No meetings. Good. “Let me wrap up a few things here, and I’ll be over.”
“I can be there in about an hour. Still need to shower.”
“Great. And bring your laptop,” Ruth added.
Just as Janice ended the call, her phone buzzed.
Jeff: We’re going to start flipping homes! Found our first one!
Janice smiled, genuinely happy for him—but also a little envious. Jeff always did what he wanted. Took risks. And somehow, it always worked out. She, on the other hand, stayed on the sidelines, calculating every what-if.
She texted back:
Janice: WOW. Master Realtor, now Master Flipper, what’s next?
Jeff replied with a heart emoji.
“Good for you, Jeffery,” she muttered, then hurried to the bathroom.
True to her word, she was at her Mother’s within the hour. She’d answered a few emails from her phone, but nothing urgent. Dressed in worn jeans and a faded “Peace, Love & Coffee” T-shirt from her favorite local café, Janice felt… herself again.
Ruth opened the door before Janice could reach for the knob and pulled her into a hug. At first, Janice stiffened; they weren’t usually huggers. But then she softened, leaning into it. The strap of her laptop bag dug into her shoulder, but for once, she didn’t care.
Inside, Ruth led her straight to the kitchen. Of course. All family things happened in the kitchen.
On the table sat an old, well-worn Bible and a velvet ring box with frayed corners. Janice furrowed her brow.
“This,” Ruth explained, “is the record of births and marriages.” It’s been passed down.”
She reached for the ring box.
“And this…” She opened it gently, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a tarnished coin dangling from it. “This is the coin I mentioned.”
Janice leaned in.
One side read: Confederate States of America Half Dollar.
The surface was scratched, dulled by time, but undeniably real.
“Wow. Look at the date, 1861. Right before the war.” A shiver ran down her spine. “I bet that’s worth something.”
“This was handed down,” Ruth said, “but no one’s ever been sure from whom. Maybe you’ll find out. I don’t think it’s worth much money, but it’s priceless to our family.”
Janice set her laptop down, opened it, and pulled up the ancestry site.
“This is what I’ve got so far,” she said, turning the screen. “See the little leaves? Those are hints. I just need help confirming.”
Ruth slid on her reading glasses and studied the screen, then the Bible. She flipped carefully through brittle pages until she reached a handwritten list of names. The ink had faded to a ghostly brown, but one stood out, barely legible in elegant looping script: Benjamin Cheney Freeman.
Janice stared.
“That’s odd,” she whispered. “Why would he have two last names? And who were his parents?”
Ruth squinted. “Does the computer say anything?”
Janice typed his name in. Nothing useful surfaced.
“I’m going to take some photos,” she said, pulling out her phone.
“I’m going to try Natalie’s name.”
Janice typed in “Natalie” with other fragments, and soon the site suggested she’d had a child whose name matched her grandfather’s.
It was something.
She realized this wasn’t going to be a one-weekend project.
“Mom, do you remember grandma telling you any stories of people?”
“Well, she often told stories of Natalie and Lucy on the farm.”
“Lucy? Was she a Cheney?”
“No, I think she helped out around the house, but she always comes across as close to the family in the stories,” Ruth responded thoughtfully.
“Mom, you said earlier you had something to ask me?”
Ruth moved toward the stove, peeling potatoes.
“Remember how I told you Grandma’s great-great-grandmother was from outside Atlanta?”
Janice nodded.
“Well, they still have a house down there. I inherited it from your grandmother.”
Janice blinked. “I didn’t know that.”
Ruth busied herself at the counter, not meeting her eyes.
“I never told you because I wasn’t sure what to do with it,” Ruth admitted. “And truthfully, I wasn’t ready for the memories that came with it.”
