Page 54 of The Women of Oak Ridge

THREE DAYS PASSED before Aunt Mae felt well enough to leave her bed. Dad and I took turns tending to her, although neither of us broached the subject of what had caused her breakdown. We’d agreed to wait until she was stronger before tackling everything she’d been hiding for more than thirty years.

I heaved a sigh as I handwashed the breakfast dishes. I still found it strange that Aunt Mae didn’t have an automatic dishwasher. We’d always had one in our Boston home. Mom even had them replaced when newer, better models came out.

But my mind wasn’t on dishes or how best to clean them.

I hadn’t heard from Jonas since he walked out the door the night of Aunt Mae’s breakdown.

I hadn’t felt at liberty to reach out to him, considering the way Dad made it clear Jonas wasn’t welcome.

Until Aunt Mae told us what happened during the war, it wasn’t a good idea to communicate with Jonas, no matter how much I wanted to discuss it with him.

He was a cop, after all. A man sworn to uphold the law.

While we weren’t sure any laws had been broken, Aunt Mae was our first concern.

Everything and everyone else came afterwards.

Dad joined me in the kitchen. “Mae would like to talk to us.”

The gravity in his voice stilled my hands. “Did she say what this is about?”

He shook his head.

I dried my hands on a dish towel and followed him into the front room.

Aunt Mae sat in her armchair, a crocheted afghan across her lap despite warm air coming through the open window.

The sweet scent of lilacs wafted up from the purple bunch Georgeanne brought over the previous day, displayed in a Mason jar on the coffee table.

Dad and I sat on the sofa, shoulders tense, and waited.

Aunt Mae took a deep breath, exhaled, then met our gazes.

“I know you have questions. I’ll try to answer them in due time, but first.

..” Her voice quavered. “First I need to tell you something. I’m ashamed to reveal such things to you, my precious family, but it’s time.

I’ve kept this secret for far too long.”

“Mae—,” Dad started, only to be stopped by his sister.

“Let me do this my way, Harry. Please.”

Dad nodded.

“When I came to Oak Ridge in 1944,” Aunt Mae began, “I was sheltered and naive. I knew nothing of the world beyond our small Kentucky community, but I’d wanted to do my part to win the war and bring our boys home.”

She told us about the day she arrived on the Reservation, being assigned to a dorm, and about her roommate Sissy Galloway.

“Sissy was pretty and sweet,” she said, her face taking on a pained expression, “but she was just as naive as me. She met a fellow named Clive Morrison.” Her voice turned hard when she spoke his name. I recognized it from the MP’s report. “He was a spy, although Sissy didn’t know it at the time.”

Dad and I sat perfectly still as a mind-blowing story unfolded.

She told us about Sissy’s diary, her disappearance, and Aunt Mae’s certainty that Clive murdered her roommate. Then came the trailer fire, and a frantic search of the riverbank for a fresh grave. Finally, she divulged the threats that forced her to become involved in espionage.

“One of my responsibilities at K-25 was to take packets of confidential documents to the incinerator. Mr. Colby, my boss, trusted me to do this for him.” Her chin trembled.

“Clive insisted I bring the documents to him first. He’d take the ones that interested him, then I completed the job of destroying the ones that remained. ”

“Who was he spying for?” Dad asked.

“The Soviet Union.”

Images of Letty Gladding’s arrest raced through my mind. She wasn’t much older than Aunt Mae.

“This is bad, Mae,” Dad whispered, a tremor in his voice. “This is really, really bad.”

She met his gaze, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorry you have to learn that your big sister is a traitor. I had hoped to take this terrible secret to my grave.”

“You’re not a traitor, Aunt Mae,” I said. “You’re a victim. You were forced to do it. Clive threatened you. You were just a young, frightened woman who found herself in a horrific situation.”

She wiped tears from her cheeks. “That may be true, but in the eyes of the law, I betrayed my country. I betrayed my family and everyone who worked on the Manhattan Project. It’s time now for me to be held accountable for what I’ve done.”

“No!” Dad jumped to his feet. “No one needs to know about this. The only people who know the truth are in this room. Jonas might be suspicious,” he said, glancing at me, “but he has no proof.” He began to pace.

“We need to get you away from here. Move you to Boston as soon as possible. I’ll make some calls and—”

“Harry, sit down.” Aunt Mae’s voice brooked no arguments. Dad sat.

“I’m done with secrets and lies. They’ve been part of my life for far too long. I’m resigned to facing the consequences for my actions.”

“You want to go to prison?” Dad asked, his voice raised.

“Of course I don’t want to, Harry, but it’s what I deserve.”

Dad sank back against the couch cushion, arms crossed over his chest. “This is nuts.”

I glanced between the siblings. I knew how Dad felt, yet I admired Aunt Mae for finally facing her giant.

“I have two requests,” she said. “First, I need to speak to Velvet. I don’t want her to hear this on the television news.”

Dad groaned and closed his eyes. “The news.” He shook his head, then looked at Aunt Mae. “What’s the second request?”

Aunt Mae’s gaze shifted to me. “I want to give my confession to Jonas. He’ll know what to do.”

A sob escaped my throat, but I nodded.

“My poor family.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so very sorry to put you through this. I know you’re ashamed of me. I won’t blame you if you never want to see me again.”

Dad and I went to Aunt Mae, where we wrapped our arms around one another.

“We’ll always be here for you, Mae. We’re a family,” Dad said. He wiped his face. “We’ll get through this somehow, together.”

Aunt Mae asked me to call Velvet and invite her and Roonie to the house. Velvet must have heard something in my voice, because she said they’d be right over. When they arrived, Aunt Mae burst into tears. While Velvet sat and held her hand, she told her friend the shocking tale.

“Oh, my poor Mae.” Tears slid down Velvet’s cheeks. “How I wish you would have shared this with me all those years ago. I knew somethin’ was wrong, but I could have never imagined this.”

“I didn’t want you to hear about it from anyone else. I’ve treasured our friendship through the years, but I betrayed you. I’ll never forgive myself for being a coward and a traitor. You deserved better. Everyone did.”

Velvet knelt in front of Aunt Mae and grasped her by the shoulders. “You listen to me, Maebelle Willett. You are the dearest friend I could ever ask for. I would never hold this against you. You’re a good person with a good heart.”

Aunt Mae’s face crumpled. “I’m not. I lied to everyone. I stole classified documents and gave them to the enemy. I let Clive get away with Sissy’s murder,” she sobbed. “It’s too much. God can’t forgive me. No one can.”

Velvet gathered Aunt Mae into her arms and let her weep.

When she quieted, Velvet met Aunt Mae’s tormented gaze.

“You were trying to protect the people you loved, Mae. You had to make choices you would never have made under normal circumstances. God knows your reasons for doing what you did, and he has already forgiven you. The day Jesus hung on the cross, he paid the debt for your sins. He looked into the future and knew all the wrong and sinful things you would do. That each of us would do, and he died for them.”

Aunt Mae shook her head. “I wish I could believe that, but I can’t. I did things that were illegal and immoral. I betrayed my country. I betrayed Sissy’s family. They never knew what happened to her because I was a coward. No, those things aren’t forgivable.”

“Mae,” Velvet said, her voice soft, “think about the man on the cross next to Jesus. He was a criminal. We don’t know what he was guilty of, but it doesn’t matter.

The Bible says he even mocked Jesus as they hung there.

But as the hours went by and death was near, that same man asked Jesus to remember him when Jesus entered his Kingdom.

Did the Lord deny him because of his wrongdoing?

Because he’d done things that were illegal and immoral?

No. Jesus looked into that man’s heart and saw the things only God can see.

Things that convinced Jesus the man was sorry for what he’d done.

Then he told the dying criminal that he would soon be with Jesus in paradise. ”

Velvet grasped both of Aunt Mae’s hands. “Mae, have you told Jesus you’re sorry for what you did? Have you confessed your wrongdoing and asked for forgiveness?”

Aunt Mae nodded. “Over and over, but I don’t feel forgiven. I’ve tried to do penance. I’ve given aid to the needy, money to the poor, volunteered at church, but nothing helps. Nothing takes away the guilt I feel, deep in my soul.”

Velvet wiped Aunt Mae’s tears with her own embroidered handkerchief.

“Guilt has a way of making us think God is too angry to forgive our sins. That we’re too far gone to be saved, but grace says otherwise.

Grace says our sins are washed in the blood, bringing with it a time of refreshing and renewal.

Jesus died so you can be free, Mae. Free from sin.

Free from guilt. You just have to accept the amazin’ gift of grace he offered to everyone from that terrible place on the cross. ”

Aunt Mae stared at her friend, longing in her eyes. “To be free is all I’ve ever wanted. Free from Clive. Free from the terrible memories. Free from the heaviness I’ve carried all these years. It can’t be that easy.”