Hiding Cracked Glass (Perceptions Of Glass Book 2)

Book summary

"Hiding Cracked Glass" by James J. Cudney is a gripping family drama, the sequel to "Watching Glass Shatter." The Glass family faces a new crisis when a blackmail letter arrives, targeting an unknown member. Set over eight tense hours, the story shifts between family members, revealing deep-seated secrets and internal struggles. As the blackmailer emerges at a birthday party, shocking truths are unveiled, intensifying the family's precarious bonds. This novel delves into themes of hidden flaws and the dire consequences of unresolved issues.

Excerpt from Hiding Cracked Glass (Perceptions Of Glass Book 2)

Chapter 1 – 10:00 to 11:00 AM

Memories of a forty-year marriage undoubtedly pale in comparison to the visceral experience of loving and supporting another human being throughout an entire lifetime. Awakening to the familiar rhythm of a husband’s beating heart as her head rests gently on his rising chest is steadfast and comforting. Clutching a pillow with an unrelenting grip because it contains the faintest hint of his woodsy scent becomes a feeble consolation prize. Death in all its glory knocks the strongest to their knees, naked and raw, in search of a tangible identity, especially once accepting widowhood is the most recognizable facet of her remaining years. It is Destiny who ensures these hidden truths will trigger stumbles in our finale.

Shoulder-length wisps of striking gray hair scattered across Olivia’s rosy cheeks as a serpentine breeze hugged the curves of the cemetery’s solemn pathways. Her lazuline-blue eyes sparkled from the sunlight blasting through a gathering of thick, frost-covered oak trees. Its dense canopy temporarily comforted and sheltered Olivia from the outside world. She sat perched against a mossy gravestone, a determined hand tracing the etched inscription of her late husband’s name.

Benjamin Glass: Husband, Father & Friend. 1947 – 2017

A little over eight months had passed since Ben’s fatal accident, yet the memory of audibly witnessing his car’s collision with the impenetrable steel of a Connecticut overpass struck far more primal than any pain her husband endured during the same event. At least Olivia believed so. The police and ambulance crew had assured her that Ben and his driver died instantaneously. She replayed the incident in her mind daily, pondering whether Ben suffered any last-minute regrets or relived fond memories as life slipped from his body into the dark ether surrounding them. Olivia had come to believe that loved ones lingered behind only to suffer an indulgent exacerbation of grief and nostalgia.

Unrepentant February winds continued to flog the surrounding tombstones. Though startling and chilly, it refreshed and awakened Olivia. When a limb snapped from a stalwart evergreen several rows away, a surprising comfort settled inside her as though she were no longer alone. “Are you trying to console me, Ben? I miss you more each day, my darling.” She imagined her late husband hovering nearby, conveying his concurrence with all her major life decisions since his death.

Immediately upon Ben’s passing, Olivia had channeled every waking moment toward reminiscing about their life together, repeating and overenunciating his full name, Benjamin William Glass, to all five adult sons in the hope it would keep his memory alive. Not just floating in their minds but inside the loneliness of their family home. Their unremarkable yet intimate town where history always triumphed. The dewy air they unconsciously breathed and smelled while the rest of the world prospered without him. Although the remembrances reinforced Olivia’s confidence and composure, sometimes they crippled her ability to visualize a future without Ben.

During the reading of her late husband’s will, a deeper layer of darkness unexpectedly descended upon Olivia—a secret revelation Ben left behind that nearly destroyed the family. Ben had unleashed two explosive letters in his attorney’s care years ago, inadvertently playing Russian Roulette with the Glass family’s bonds—emotional and blood. Few knew of their existence or the damage they could incite had those troubling facts fallen into idle hands. Olivia morphed into an aging matriarch ravaged by secrets, loss of faith, and a desire to hide from everyone. She concealed the newly discovered information for months until pressed into obligatory action. Not only had she lost a treasured partner, battled waterfalls of tears that left her body brittle and dehydrated, and clung to a sense of hope for at best a tolerable future, but the Eternal Creator beseeched the widow to offer penance beyond Ben. Destiny craved more. Someone else to be sacrificed because of Olivia’s past failure to become the mother she’d always yearned to be.

Olivia considered sharing Ben’s confession with their children. She wanted to tell them that she’d given birth to a baby who died minutes after greeting the world sans a single cry or laugh, offering only a handful of insufficient breaths. That Ben switched the infant with another, one whose mother wanted to secure a loving home for her son because she had lost the father and couldn’t care for a child on her own. But Ben had never even told his own wife. And now, in his death, he challenged her to bring the truth full circle. Unfortunately, Destiny intervened and insisted Olivia reevaluate such instincts.

Ben’s two letters, a pure but painful deceit, changed every trajectory of Olivia’s future life. One letter was hers. The other Ethan’s. Ethan was the boy who’d been switched at birth. Only Ethan never received his copy of the letter. Destiny delivered her final blow to Olivia by demanding Ethan’s return to her intimate fold. Ethan would be the price Olivia paid for her mistakes. When Ethan informed his mother that he only had months to live, she refused to eviscerate his remaining days and hours with the truth. Olivia begged for mercy, citing alternative ways to make her suffer and to ameliorate her errors, all the while remembering the harsh realities of life.

Derelict addicts survived intentional overdosing. Vicious murderers avoided prison death sentences. Innocent souls frequently perished young. It was a fact, not an observation. All too often the case for darkness made its presence known in the world encompassing Olivia’s existence. The bad outweighed the good, and the best hope one could cling to involved staying slightly ahead of Destiny’s tormenting game. Life was rarely fair to those who had earned a reprieve or a temporary moment of tranquility.

Before he passed away inside the Glass family home, Olivia tracked down and granted Rowena Hector the opportunity—no, the privilege—of meeting the son she’d given up. Rowena, a more selfless mother in those few moments than Olivia had been during her entire lifetime, agreed to conceal the secret. Olivia saved her letter from Ben as a keepsake to remind her of the past when she was egocentric, aloof, and neglectful. All those behavioral tendencies had begun decreasing as the tumors riddled Ethan’s body into a mere shadow of its former glory. Ethan tragically left the world at twenty-three-years-old, clueless that he was not the biological son of Benjamin and Olivia Glass. His last excruciating gasps for air, like the only breaths of Olivia’s infant who died, marked a life-changing event.

Confident a lesson was buried somewhere in the messaging, Olivia accepted blame for all the drama and tragedy affecting her family. Throughout the preceding years, she’d transitioned into someone she never intended to be, and only via the senseless catastrophe had she summoned the courage to alter the course of her future. Last fall, Olivia buoyed her surviving sons when they each faced and conquered significant problems in their own lives. She’d finally put her children first. Once confident they navigated the complex road to recovery, she committed to addressing her own healing process.

“I’ve learned surprising facts about myself in the last few months. Family means everything to me now, Ben,” stated Olivia, her voice searching for the proper balance between confidence and wishful thinking.

During her recovery, Olivia’s sister functioned as a prodigious and necessary limb, an extension of a broken soul clawing its way into the remaining corporeal bond between two siblings who couldn’t be more different. Diane had always admired and loved Olivia—never once jealous of all the blessings bestowed upon her sister—and bolstered the unexpected widow during the chasm opening upon Ethan’s death. Olivia and Diane embarked on an extended vacation to Italy to experience La Dolce Vita, the sweet life. A second honeymoon she and Ben had hoped to take that summer, rendered impossible once the accident interfered in what should have been their jubilant golden years. While on the trip, Olivia relied on Diane for everything, and they eagerly embraced the intoxicating culture, divine beauty, and mouthwatering food of a country so magnificent, it effortlessly lifted their spirits.

Yesterday, she arrived home from Europe and moved back into the Glass family estate. She would temporarily occupy her old family home, the one she’d entrusted to her surviving sons before leaving the country. After the initial shock of stepping foot into the house she and Ben had built, Olivia struggled to summon the strength to hold her head high. It instead hung low and waffled between rage and relief. Accepting Ethan’s and Ben’s deaths would demand a much lengthier commitment than she anticipated.

“I’m proud of them, Ben. All our boys are making better decisions.” Flurries anxiously descended at her sides, trapping Olivia in her very own picturesque snow globe. Fear of someone absentmindedly shaking the tenuous symbol, whirling her life upside down for a moment’s pleasure, still lurked furiously in her bones. Olivia interpreted the wet snow as Ben’s tears of happiness, for if she thought they were anything else, the delicate balance she maintained on a fragile existence would crumble into oblivion.

She’d escaped that blustery morning to visit Ethan’s and Ben’s graves for the first time in months. No one knew she’d disappeared shortly after dawn for a cathartic walk around the neighborhood. Once ready, she reserved an Uber, requesting a drop-off and return pickup one hour later. An hour that had already passed, though it felt like seconds since her wobbly feet initially stepped on the frozen ground and instinctively walked toward the final resting places of her husband and son.

“They have a new maid, Ben. Our housekeeper retired when I left. It’s best the boys find their own help. We all need a fresh start.” Olivia brushed away persistent snowflakes from congregating atop the headstone, narrowing her eyes to minimize the sentimentality overwhelming her emotions. “I don’t like her very much. She’s… too friendly, too eager.”

Olivia had once attended law school and worked side by side with Ben before retiring from the firm to raise their five sons. When the boys were old enough, she involved herself in countless charities and organizations, which meant the Glass family home required more than just a nanny. After several failed attempts to handle it all on her own, she hired a maid who understood her role in the household—neither to be seen nor heard. While that’s what Olivia’s parents had always advised about their own children, Olivia felt it more aptly applied to staff. For years, she was deemed cold and shrewd toward others, but Ben’s and Ethan’s deaths had shattered the previous iteration of Olivia Glass. Upon reassembly, she should’ve emerged a changed woman. What was taking so long?

Not that she didn’t trust the new maid’s cleaning abilities or felt uncomfortable by another woman’s presence in the last place she’d seen Ben alive. It was that the girl frivolously hummed and sang, played with the children in all the wrong rooms, and flitted about the home as if she owned it. Olivia warned herself not to behave as snobby or persnickety as she’d once been. Perhaps she struggled with adjusting to change now that she no longer headed up the household. Maybe the maid was simply too young and inexperienced but would grow into her role. Nonetheless, Olivia kept her mouth shut the previous day, promising not to get involved. Her son’s wife, Margaret, had hired Pilar, and if Pilar proved to be an unreliable housekeeper, Margaret would be the one to reprimand and fire her. Managing and disciplining people taught a woman how to mature gracefully into the leader she was destined to be. Olivia also assured herself that exhaustion from the flight home could’ve led to misjudging the situation. Age made certain people ornery and blind. It educated and reformed others, like Olivia, under normal circumstances. But nothing was typical for her anymore.

Amid the desolate cemetery’s shrub-lined passageway, the Uber driver nonchalantly waved to notify his fare of his arrival. Olivia held up her hand to request another five minutes, suddenly distracted by a new mourner admiring various marble statues and ornate benches on the opposite side of her section. Olivia thought the person’s frame and stance looked familiar, but she couldn’t capture a clear angle of his or her face. Before she knew it, the figure disappeared behind a hearty grove of rhododendron bushes. Had she imagined the individual, or was he or she truly watching her?

Although she’d visited Ethan’s grave earlier, Olivia wanted one last goodbye before leaving Ben’s plot—her future plot, where she’d reunite with her husband for all eternity. In the distant future, as her life was far from over, per her most recently putative opinion. Navigating through three rows of brittle yellow-brown grass that crackled as she firmly trounced on its decaying life, Olivia arrived at Ethan’s permanent resting place.

Two manicured mugo pines adorned either side of the immaculate headstone—nothing was too good for her baby who would never be granted the privilege of fathering a child of his own. Upon reliving his death all over again, a piercing stab of torment ricocheted inside Olivia’s chest as if an overloaded electrical system had shocked her core mercilessly. She covered her lips to prevent a primal cry from escaping, but nothing could contain the heartbreak and utter sense of loss that had broken her. To die at the beginning of his career in medical school as a newlywed to a beautiful college sweetheart, magnified all that was wrong in the world.

When doctors diagnosed Ethan, his girlfriend had just graduated from Boston University and accepted her first professional job. He followed through with his plans to propose to Emma, keen to attain a myriad of goals before Death plucked him from her life. Rather than run from a fiancé being issued a death sentence, Emma dove headfirst into caring for Ethan. She delayed the start of her new position as the choral director at a private school in Boston and moved into the Glass family home in Brandywine, Connecticut. Emma nursed her new husband morning, noon, and night, taking turns with Olivia and Diane during the last two weeks of Ethan’s life. She held his hand as he passed to the afterlife early one October evening under a crimson and lavender sky. Emma likened the lost tension in his final grip to releasing one’s childhood into the vaporous air, accepting that a blind belief in miracles was humankind’s most fatal mistake.

After the funeral and spending a few weeks with her in-laws, Emma returned to Boston to surrender the apartment she and Ethan shared, declaring a gaping inability to live there any longer. She hinted to Olivia that memories of the past, before learning of his disease, were too difficult to handle once seeing what he’d been reduced to in the end. They agreed to disagree regarding Emma’s best next steps, especially with Olivia’s intention to leave on her trip. She surmised Emma was too shocked and naïve to accept Ethan’s death, supposing her daughter-in-law had run off to recover from her trauma in private. Once Emma had settled into her new position in January, she regrettably began avoiding the Glass family. As far as Olivia understood, Emma had spoken with no one else since the holidays. Olivia attempted to contact Emma from Italy, but the voicemails were never returned.

“Your wife and I need to connect, Ethan. She grieves as much as I do. Widows must support one another. I have a duty to protect her from a life of solitude and depression.” Olivia tapped the top of his headstone twice, once for the past and once for the future—always a future with her son, even if it was a connection no one else understood.

With a heavy heart and shallow breath, she recalled the day Ethan skinned his knee on their front patio while trying to skip rope faster than his brothers. Deflated by the thought of never again drying his tears or fixing his booboos, Olivia shrank inside herself and concentrated on happier memories. Ethan seemed to speak to her from beyond his grave, soothing her apprehensions and disillusions. She often sensed his presence, as if he stood behind her, looking over her shoulder with his trademark goofy smile plastered on his face. I miss you, Mom… You were always good to me. Even then, I forgive you for all that you’ve done.

As Olivia shuffled to the main pathway, she unsuccessfully searched for the stranger who’d been watching her. Bewildered, she instead reflected on the party her family would throw that evening—the first time the entire Glass clan assembled since Ethan’s funeral three months earlier. Olivia and Diane had vacationed in Italy. Theodore and Sarah had reconciled after her one-night stand with his brother, Zachary. After Matthew had returned home from the rehabilitation facility, he and Margaret prepared for their newest child’s arrival. Caleb and Jake had become parents to an adopted son in Maine. Zachary had won custody of his daughter, Anastasia, from his ex-girlfriend. Although Ethan had died, Emma promised to visit the Glass family whenever she could.

The promises people made during their initial bereavement period were often forgotten, cast off as nonsensical or whimsically trivial. Would Emma attend Olivia’s grand birthday celebration tonight or snap the most brittle limb from the family tree? Time had become so precious to Olivia. Nine months ensured a mother’s readiness to give birth to her child. Could nine months also convince a widow to transition beyond her husband’s untimely death, assuming she allowed herself to conquer the essential obstacles?

The melancholy matriarch of the Glass family unlocked her phone and smiled at a photo of her and Diane from their recent trip. What’s going on with you lately, sister? Diane had behaved strangely the last few days, even seemed nervous about their return home. Determining it had something to do with a surprise for the upcoming birthday party, Olivia sank into the backseat of the Uber and sighed heavily. She slipped the phone into the outer pouch of her purse and rummaged through its inside pockets in search of Ben’s secret letter. She’d stored it inside her handbag for safekeeping before leaving Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino airport the previous day, at least she’d thought she had. After hurriedly dumping the contents on the leather seat, Olivia whispered in a tremulous voice, “Where could it have gone?”

***

Chasing three young girls in a feverish game of hide and seek, Pilar raced through the center hallway, passing Ben’s former personal study. Still decorated with an air of old-world allure, historic splendor, and treasured photos—she’d been asked not to touch anything. On the left, a sprawling seating area congregated around a magnificent stone fireplace under twelve-foot cathedral-domed ceilings. On the right stood an inspirational oak desk abutting a set of grand bay windows and boasting an antique Tiffany lamp.

Melanie and Melissa were Matt’s two oldest daughters, at five and three respectively, and Anastasia was Zach’s five-year-old girl. Melinda, Matt’s one-year-old daughter, napped upstairs with her mother and the new baby, Madison, who had arrived only four days ago. Matthew and Margaret insisted on sticking to the fanciful theme of all their children’s names beginning with the letter M. Pilar found it both amusing and terribly Waspy, but she dared not express her opinion.

Anastasia ducked under a vintage pewter and smoked glass table in the octagonal entrance hall, motioning to her cousins to follow her into the secret hiding spot. “She won’t find us here!” Wild and unruly red curls bounced effortlessly against her shoulders as she crouched low to the ground with a precocious smile.

“You’re all too fast for me!” Pilar crooned as she rounded the corner into the foyer, halting to catch her breath near the front door. “I think it’s time you had a morning snack, girls. I need a break.”

Once Olivia had turned over all her charity obligations to her daughter-in-law and departed for Italy, Margaret knew she needed live-in help. A modern woman with more organizational skills than most, she resisted the solution at first. A stranger in her house, someone else giving orders to her children was frightening and concerning. How could she surrender her control, one of the only ways she felt alive and strong enough to conquer the world? But Margaret acquiesced when she recognized the benefits additional help might bring: a solid night’s sleep, uninterrupted quiet time for herself on occasion, and clean sheets she didn’t have to strip from the bed and wash every week. After interviewing and hiring a nanny for Madison’s arrival, she and Matt also offered the role of temporary housekeeper to Pilar. Using the money her husband had inherited from Ben, Margaret hoped both women could keep the house in order while the Glass family recovered from the previous year’s invasive ordeals.

Pilar, who turned twenty-five the previous month, had only worked at the Glass estate since the week before Christmas. She was one of three women the agency sent over, and Margaret advised Pilar they’d chosen her against better judgment. Although the other two candidates offered more experience, Margaret shared concerns that both would tire of all the young children in the house and exit the job too hastily. At least that’s what she’d informed Olivia, who stubbornly insisted someone with decades of qualifications was the correct hire, in an attempt to justify the decision.

Melanie and Melissa, radiant glee emanating from their pudgy cheeks and alert eyes, screeched in unison. Anastasia, the more reserved and analytical of the cousins, sluggishly crept across the braided rug and shrugged at Pilar. “If you say so. I was having so much fun.”

Pilar affectionately cupped Anastasia’s wrist, chuckling at the young girl’s response. Anastasia’s freckled cream skin contrasted Pilar’s mocha-infused tones, a perfect artisanal cappuccino symbiosis of art in the making. Although Margaret had suggested a proper maid’s outfit during the interview, Matt interceded and permitted Pilar to wear whatever she felt was most suitable for her role. Having just been released from the rehabilitation center, where he’d kicked a nasty habit of balancing uppers and downers to deal with his anxiety issues over money, Matt desired less formality and more creativity in his surroundings. Pilar’s dark, low-rise jeans and long-sleeve Henley fully covered her body, but they flaunted each of her dangerous curves. Sable hair and high cheekbones added a feminine, exotic charm, but Italian ancestry was all she could claim.

“Remember. It’s your grandma’s big birthday party this evening,” Pilar announced, instructing the children to follow her into the kitchen.

Once everyone settled at the nook, Pilar divvied up the juice boxes to all three girls. Anastasia preferred strawberry while Matt’s girls requested grape juice. Both kinds were all-natural and contained no extra sugar, per Margaret’s endless file of detailed instructions. While the girls devoured three peanut butter crackers and a handful of carrot sticks, Pilar studied a to-do list to confirm her impending chores. The day churned much more quickly than she expected, and with the party that evening, everything had to be in proper order before Olivia Glass returned home.

Pilar wasn’t fond of the woman, especially after Olivia scanned her from head to toe in petulant judgment the previous day. When Olivia traced a finger along the fireplace mantle and blew dust into the air, Pilar realized things would change drastically in the Glass home. She’d heard various stories while Olivia was away and researched the family many times before accepting the job. Experiencing Olivia Glass differed from hearing about Olivia Glass through the perception of a stranger or one who claimed to know her well.

“I need to load some towels in the dryer. Please stay in the kitchen until I get back here, okay? You’re in charge, Anastasia.” Pilar knew Anastasia was the most responsible of the group, even though Melanie was a few months older. When the girls nodded like a trio of wide-eyed porcelain dolls, Pilar descended to the basement to swap the last load of laundry.