Old Heart by Peter Ferry

Author:Peter Ferry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unbridled Books
Published: 2015-03-21T04:00:00+00:00

Johnson Family History Continued For Nora

Julia’s and my marriage didn’t “effectively end” when Russ Lawton was killed in the auto accident, but it started to end. It was like a slowly sinking ship; we closed one bulkhead after another and settled deeper and deeper in the water until the only compartment left was the one marked “parenting.” Still, there were times when I thought we might be able to right the thing, but that was all before Julia fell in love.

In 1963, having given up on me and his own sons and apparently without ever even considering Julia sitting there in her glass office, Russ hired a business manager named Tim Hodges from Dayton, Ohio, with an eye toward eventually making him a partner if things went well. Tim was an ambitious, progress-minded guy who wore a Princeton haircut, creased gray flannel slacks, a blue blazer, and the first tassel loafers I’d ever seen. He almost immediately talked Russ into abandoning his cramped old showroom and garage downtown and moving out to the edge of town, where they would have acres of land and lots of room for expansion. This was a good idea. He then talked Russ into buying out an underfinanced Ford dealership in the next town and incorporating his old and new agencies on their new site. Another good idea. Next he talked Russ into importing English Fords, not such a good idea, but one that made the agency seem open-minded and future-oriented. And it was Tim who recognized Julia’s acumen and began to involve her in decision making.

It was about then that Julia stopped going on vacation with the rest of us; she became too busy. I’d take the kids up to a rental cottage in Door County, Wisconsin, for a couple of weeks as soon as summer school was over. We fished, hiked all over Washington Island, canoed on the bay, and ate fish boils. We spent all our money on go-carts, miniature golf, and batting cages. Then on spring break we’d go to a little motel on Treasure Island in Florida that had a pool, a grill, and shuffleboard. Christine got her own bed, Brooks and I shared one, and we put Tony on a roll-away. We had a kitchenette to make breakfasts and lunches and the grill for hot dogs and hamburgers, and we’d walk the beach for hours looking for the best grouper sandwich. It was all kids’ fun, of course, and while I enjoyed it, sometimes at night, when they were in bed or watching TV, I’d sit outside in the dark, drink a beer, and wish Julia and I could be sitting there together, remembering the day, smiling about something one of the kids had said, planning tomorrow.

We became the “Jonnsons” on one of those vacations and while Julia was a part of us, she also wasn’t. She was watching us through a window. It happened when Tony was about eight and Brooks was seven. Tony made a lanyard for me with our name on it at a little day camp in Door County, except it read, “the Jonnsons.

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