No Perfect Secret (36 page)

“I didn’t really have a chance to think things though, if that’s what you mean. Almost before we got good and wet, we met another couple. Frank and Richard hit it off—Richard’s a detective, Cynthia is a travel agent. She and I shopped. The guys went deep-sea fishing—”

Helen hiked eyebrow at Frank. “A detective. Well, that explains
a lot.”

“Time to order,” Caburn said, waving the server back to their table, which earned him a profound frown.

“What were you saying?” Anna asked Helen after their food order was taken.

“Geez. I forgot. Oh. Judge Tinsley will see you in his chambers tomorrow to act on your petition for a name change. You’re to be there at noon. That’s twelve straight up. His
clerk said not one minute after, because they have a jury bogged down in deliberations and if a verdict comes in, Judge Tinsley is gonna bang his gavel and shut down until the Tuesday after the first of the year. His office number is on the back of Rene’s card—call and confirm no later than nine in the morning.”

“My gosh
, Helen, that was fast. Thank you. Did Frank remember to give you the perfume I sent you? I went crazy in the duty-free shop in the airport. The prices were super-cheap.”

“He sure did. That was so sweet of you to think of me.”
Helen shot daggers at Caburn.

After they ate, the tabled crumbed and coffee served, Anna asked Helen if the obits had brought in any activity.

“Uh, Frank. Do you want to take that one?”

“I’m picking up the check.”

Helen sighed. “I hate to ruin a nice lunch.”

“I’m just curious,” Anna said. “All the bad stuff is already on the table
—isn’t it?”

“The only inquiries have been from a flight attendant based in NYC, and an uncle.”

Anna’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa. I’m not surprised about the flight attendant. Kevin spent a lot time in the air. But an uncle? That blows my mind.”

“He’s Clara’s brother. They’re estranged because Nesmith used
to work for him down in Norfolk. The uncle owns a bunch of furniture stores. According to him, Nesmith kept the books for him. Nesmith skimmed profits to the tune of about a hundred thousand dollars over a period of eight years or so. Clara talked her brother out of bringing charges by promising to pay him back. She never did. He wanted to know if Nesmith left an estate.”

Anna sighed. “I am so going to have to hire an attorney.”

Helen put her hand on Anna’s. “Listen. It’s his word against a dead man’s. The uncle never pressed charges, and you are not the responsible party.”

“Helen, is Kevin’s file classified or anything like that?”

“Not that I know of. We’re just trying to keep things low key—no bad publicity.”

“Perhaps I could have a copy?”

“I’ll check with my boss, but I can’t promise anything.”

Outside the restaurant, on the sidewalk, Anna thanked Caburn for lunch. “I’m sorry to eat and run, but I haven’t even unpacked, and my fridge is empty. Talk to you later, okay?”

Caburn stood with his hands on his hips, watching Anna move off toward the car park. Helen put her arm through his. “Whatever you guys did in Cancun, she’s having second thoughts.”

“We didn’t do anything to have second thoughts about.”

“Men always think that.”

~~~~

Anna was putting away groceries when a knock came at the front door. She thought
: Frank
, and her stomach seized. She wanted him, but she wanted some breathing room, too. While her to-do list was growing, her mind was spinning variables, wondering if she had done the right thing in Cancun. She knew what she had done, but she wasn’t certain where she was going with it. Most of all, she wasn’t certain where she stood with Frank. She had allowed emotions and sexual desire to move her beyond good sense. Were they friends? Lovers? When the investigation was over, would their relationship—whatever it was—be over, too?

Anyway, what did she really know about him beyond the fact that he was a bachelor, generous, kind to Lila, good in bed? He had a great smile and good teeth. Was that orthodontics or genetics? What was his family like? Was there a
Clara-Alice lurking in his background? An estranged uncle?

She opened the front door. Her heart plummeted.

“I know I’m not supposed to be here,” said Janie in a rush. “Please, may I come in? I’m not here to make trouble. It’s just I have no one to talk to about Kevin. My mother hasn’t stopped crying and my dad is ballistic.”

Anna stepped back. “This is not good, Janie. Really not.” The girl followed her into the kitchen. Anna continued to take foodstuffs out of bags, sort them and store them in pantry or fridge. She dropped a bag of oranges, watched them scatter and roll across the kitchen floor.

“I loved him, Anna. I don’t care who he was with before. Nobody wants to hear that.”

“Neither do I. I put in ten hard years with that man
—Oh, God.”

“Will you tell me about his mother? There’s such a silence
.”

“No. She and I don’t get along. I couldn’t tell you anything without prejudice.”

“Does she know about me? And the baby?”

“I don’t know. Kevin was filling her head with stuff. I don’t know what she knows.”

“Will you tell me where she is?”

Anna shook her head.

“Will she be at the funeral?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you?”

“
Mr Phipps is going to arrange for me to have a private viewing when no one else is there. That’s it. I need that for closure—if there is such a thing. So, no, I won’t be in the congregation.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“I would.”

“I didn’t mean to take Kevin away from you. I mean if I had known
—”

“You didn’t, Janie. I never had him. Maybe in our first few months
—but after that.” Anna realized she’d spoken a truth she had not wanted to accept. But there it was—reality.

“Kevin was a good dad. I’m guessing that he loved me. I’m not certain any more. But, he loved our son. He didn’t fake that.”

Anna exhaled.

Janie took her car keys from her coat pocket. “I’ll leave now. I told mom I was taking advantage of the after Christmas sales. I
—I hope you don’t hate me.”

Anna walked the young women to the door. “I don’t hate you, Janie. It was never about you.”

Anna stood on the steps and watched Janie drive away. It was never about me, either, she thought. She was being told that over and over by Dr Neal, Helen, and in subtle ways—by Frank and Lila, too. Amazing that it took hearing herself say that to Janie for it to sink home. She got it. Finally. And boy! She had been chewing on that truth, but never swallowed it.

She felt relief. She felt energized. Oddly, she felt happy, too.
She retrieved the box of Godiva chocolates from the pantry and ate six with a cup of coffee. She did two loads of laundry; she went in to the basement for plastic tubs and began sorting and packing the contents of linen and guest room closets. Once full, she stacked them in her nearly empty bedroom.

At seven she stopped for a fried bologna sandwich, fresh cherries, a banana, and a Diet Coke. It was good old American food and it recharged her batteries.

She went into the basement again and sorted her gardening tools and small house tools from everything that belonged to Clara-Alice and Kevin. She dumped everything from the file cabinet into a plastic bag and hauled it upstairs to sort before she put it through the shredder.

Calling a moving and storage company went to the top of her to-do list. Everything that had to do with Kevin and
Clara-Alice was going to be out of her house and out of her life before she began the new year as Anna Elena Price.

She could not undo the past ten years, but she could step out of them; the same as if she were stepping out of a pair of worn jeans, ready to be recycled into shorts or repurposed for scrub cloths. Yes! If anyone asked her how her life was going, that’s what she’d say: I’m repurposing
—same basic life but with different bling.

Banging on the sun room door jolted her out of her thoughts. She flipped on the porch light to reveal Lila standing outside in her pajamas
over which she had slung the colonel’s old fatigue jacket. Talk about something that needed repurposing! She fumbled with the deadbolt, finally getting it open.

“I tried calling you, but your phone isn’t working,” Lila said as she slogged into sunroom wearing a pair of fuzzy Yogi Bear slippers.

“Oh, shoot, my landline is unplugged.”

“I called your cell
—it went to voice mail.”

“It’s still in my car on the charger. I forgot it. Come on in the kitchen. Do you want something to drink?”

“I better not. My bladder is smaller than a dried prune. I’m trying not to eat or drink after eight o’clock—otherwise I’m a jumping jack all night long. Stand still a sec and let me look at you. Girl, you’ve got a glow on. That vacation did you good.”

“Thank you. You look good, too. Love your slippers.”

“Christmas present from JoJo and Clarence.”

“How
was
your Christmas?”

“Humbling. We fed over five
hundred homeless. A lot of the men are street bums, panhandlers finding glory in booze and drugs, but a goodly number were veterans discharged from the Iraq and Afghan wars. They want to work, but the economy is so awful. Sure is not like it was when the Colonel put in his twenty, got his Army retirement, went to work for Civil Service for another twenty, got that retirement. We got to double dip back in the day. Well, anyway, I’m an official volunteer at the shelter now. I’m gonna help by making phone calls, doing laundry, sorting donated clothes and foods. The shelter needs help all year round—not just at Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“Lila, that’s beautiful. When I get my life back, on track, perhaps I can find a way to help, too.”

“You already did help! The men were so happy with all Kevin’s clothes. Well—not all. Not the expensive suits and Egyptian cloth shirts or the Gucci loafers.”

“No?”

Lila laughed. “Way no! The consensus was that a panhandler couldn’t be well dressed. Dressed warm—but not better than those he was begging from. I mean, all the sportswear, underwear, belts, boots and sweaters went like wildfire. The director put the suits back for guys needing them for job interviews and so on. Okay—so tell me, how was Cancun?”

“Hot, sunny. Food was fantastic. We went to a Las Vegas-type floor show, went swimming, went shopping
—”

“Get to the good stuff.”

“That is the good stuff.”

“What about you and Frank? Did romance bloom?”

“Oh, well. He likes me.”

“That’s it? He likes you. I knew that before you went to Mexico. Did you get to see him in
the raw? Hah! You’re blushing. That means yes. Is he...um...you know...his works...are they substantial?”

Anna felt warm from neck to ankle. “Oh, my Go
sh! I can’t believe you asked me that. Go home and wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Just because I’m old, doesn’t mean I’m dead. Old folks can get excited
—maybe all we can do is look—oh boy—you should see some of the web sites I’ve found.”

“Lila, you’re scaring me.”

“Sorry. Well, What I came over for in the first place is that Helen called. She was trying to reach you. We’re invited to a New Year’s Eve party at a VFW. So, you need to turn on your phone. She’ll give you the details. Frank bought a table for the shindig. JoJo and Clarence are going. We went shopping for a tux for Clarence. Mercy—he had to wipe down every inch of the dressing room before he tried the blamed thing on. But! Let me tell you—when that boy sets his mind on being manly, he’s a dreamboat. He’s gonna disappoint a lot of the ladies.”

“You like those two a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Lila turned wishful. “I don’t talk about it much, but I miss my son a lot. Clarence and JoJo—well they kind of fill the void.”

“What happened to Guatemala? I thought they were going to visit the Mayan ruins on New Year’s.”

“They are. I mean, we are. I’m going, too. We’re flying out New Year’s afternoon. After that we’re going spend some time at their condo on Sanibel Island. I’ve been thinking...I just may sell up here and buy a condo there. Clarence is kind of thinking about a career change. His OCD is getting the best of him. He’s considering going to beauty school. As a hairdresser he can wear gloves all the time and repurpose a hazmat get up and no one would look at him as if he was weird.”

“My goodness, Lila. I leave town for a few days and you plot a whole new life. So does everybody around me!”

“Well, this whole mess with Clara-Alice and Kevin got to me. It’s not a whole new life—it’s just living in the one I’ve got for as long as I’ve got it. Every day weather permits, I watch Mrs Nagi in her motorized wheelchair hightailing it down to the Stop ‘n Go, and I realized she’s going farther in her damn chair than I do in my Gremlin! And here’s me with two good feet, all my faculties, money in the bank, and I seldom go any farther than your back door unless you’re hauling me somewhere. That’s changing! What? Are you stumped for words?”