Secrets of the Red Box (30 page)

Bonnie’s sense of smell was the first thing that roused her. The scent of strong antiseptic faintly
tinged with lye soap, a hint of something sour all mingled together. It was familiar—she knew the
smell, had experienced it before. Then she heard some distant voices, a man, a woman talking
quietly as if they were standing in another room. Her eyelids fluttered open and Bonnie saw a crack
in the ceiling overhead, cool gray walls, a harsh light to her left. She closed her eyes against the light
and turned her head on the pillow. “What…happened…”

Glen appeared from the shadows of her mind. She felt him take her hand and kiss her forehead.
She must be dreaming, she decided. He stroked her hair and nuzzled his face close to hers. And then
she remembered…the pain…the blood…the look on Irene’s face…the ambulance.

Irene stepped to the other side of the bed, her eyes red, her face lined with worry. “You’re all
right now, Bonnie,” she said quietly. “The doctor believes you…you lost a baby…”
Bonnie felt as if she’d been slammed in the chest with a boulder. A baby? How was that
possible? How could she not have known? It wasn’t unusual for her to skip her period every so
often, but she never suspected she might be pregnant. There hadn’t been any signs. And what about
the doctor who’d told her she’d never have children?
A jagged pain knifed through her soul. A vein of sorrow worked its way through her heart and
she began to mourn the loss of something she hadn’t even known she possessed. How was it
possible to feel this way when she hadn’t known? But it was Glen’s baby, and that made all the
difference. She and Glen had created something she’d never expected, never dreamed would
happen. But then she’d lost it…lost their baby…
Tears welled in her eyes and the pain in her heart deepened until she thought she would die
from the anguish. “Glen…” she whispered. “I’m so sorry…I lost our baby…”
Glen’s face was moist with tears. He pressed his lips into the palm of her hand. “Don’t be sorry.
It’s not your fault.”
Irene bent down and kissed Bonnie’s cheek. “I’ll just be outside the room if you need anything.”
Bonnie saw Irene give Glen a sorrowful glance, then leave the room. He eased himself onto the
edge of the bed, his hands clasped around Bonnie’s. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut, her face contorted with grief. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think I
could…”
Glen cupped her face between his hands and laid his forehead against hers. “Oh, Bonnie.” He
sighed quietly. “It’s all right. You’ll be okay, and that’s what matters.”
She reached up and stroked the side of his face. “I wished I’d known—maybe I did something
to cause this. Maybe I—”
“No,” he said firmly, peering into her eyes. “The doctor said you couldn’t have helped it.” He
looked at her, his brows drawn together. His fingers tightened and he looked pained. “He said
you’re pretty messed up in there, babe. Something happened…that the scar tissue from—”
Fresh tears dampened her cheeks and she felt her world fall away—the abortion. This was her
punishment, she thought. Now that she would welcome a child, Glen’s child, it would be
impossible. And now he knew about her, didn’t he? She couldn’t keep this secret any more, but she
couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, either. For the first time since they’d met, she sickened herself
with the need to lie. She had to—she couldn’t risk losing him—losing the faith he’d placed in her.
He couldn’t know of the others, not this way. “I had to…” she began, her voice trembling as she
spoke. “When I was old enough, my father…”
Bonnie shut her eyes and covered her face with shaking fingers. She forced herself to go on, to
lie to him. She held her breath, her face knotted in pain at what she was about to say. “I begged my
mother to help me…to take me away. She should have stopped him…I hated her for never
stopping him…”
Glen’s face paled and she knew that he understood—that he’d accepted her lie. He gathered her
into his arms and held her. They wept together and Bonnie felt the unfathomable depth of his love
for her. She sobbed against his shoulder, wept for the lies she had told him, for herself, for Glen,
and for the baby lost to them.
///////
Bonnie was still depressed after the miscarriage. For three months she’d gone through the
motions of normal life, went to work, took care of Glen, but still felt empty inside. It seemed she
couldn’t get past her grief or her guilt. If she hadn’t had the abortion, she wouldn’t have lost Glen’s
baby—
their
baby. It seemed, yet again, that her past had cost her dearly—exacted an unexpected
price against her future. Every time she saw a pregnant woman or a mother with her baby, she burst
into tears. It would well up in her like an uncontrollable flood, spilling into every facet of her life.
She’d stopped going out, waiting at home for the aching sorrow to pass.
Irene had been so supportive, taking over at the switchboard whenever Bonnie felt herself
beginning to break down. And she’d be waiting there when Bonnie finally pulled herself together
and was able to return. Glen, too, had been wonderful, his patience with her unending. He’d held
her when she cried and whispered that he’d love her forever. With gentle words of encouragement,
he helped her to face each day. She loved him for that.
Bonnie sat near the window of their apartment, stroking Baby Girl’s silky coat. She absently
glanced at the clock and noticed that Glen was late coming home. She’d arrived home more than an
hour before and had put a tuna casserole in the oven to bake.
Baby Girl’s ears pricked up and she swiveled her head to the front door. She bounded toward it
expectantly, and Bonnie knew Glen was on the other side. She stood up and tried to put on a
pleasant expression.
Glen smiled at her as he closed the door. “Hi, babe.”
She kissed him and started for the kitchen. “I hope tuna casserole is okay.”
He reached for her and caught her arm. When she turned to look at him, his face was colored
with mischief. “As tempting as that sounds,” he began, smiling, “how about we drive out to see how
the house is coming, then go to dinner?”
Bonnie began to protest, but Glen reeled her into his arms. “Come on,” he said. “You can put
the casserole in the refrigerator for tomorrow. You haven’t been out to the house since they dug the
foundation. Don’t you want to see it? And besides,” he said, tracing her brow with his finger, “you
deserve a night out.”
She inwardly sighed. How could she say no to him? They hadn’t gone anywhere for weeks and
he’d been so tolerant of her low mood. Maybe it would help. Maybe it was time to start focusing on
the future. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him. She felt his bridled passion
simmering beneath the surface, knew he’d been patient in
that
regard as well.
They spoke little as they drove, Glen offering bits of conversation about his day’s work. She
tried to sound interested, she really tried, but her thoughts always circled back to her misery. When
Glen turned onto the newly paved street of the subdivision, Bonnie’s heart took a surprising leap.
The house was fully framed, the steep pitch of the roof jutting into the cloudless sky. The driveway
had been poured, leading back to a detached garage. The sand-colored brick chimney called to her,
bringing with it thoughts of cozy fires and quiet evenings. She smiled as Glen pulled into the drive.
Glen opened the car door and took her hand. It didn’t seem real as she scanned the building site,
the smell of raw lumber rising to meet her as they approached. This was to be their home—their
very own, with a cozy fireplace for long winter nights, a modern kitchen with the latest electric
appliances, wall-to-wall carpeting, and a naked yard filled with promise.
“I can’t believe it,” she gasped, stepping into what would eventually be the living room. She
spun in a slow circle, taking it all in, feeling the thrill of having her own home. She glanced at Glen,
surprised by the look of pleasure on his face. “What?” she asked. “What is it?”
He grinned and came toward her. “It’s just good to see you smiling.”
She felt a pang of guilt stab her conscience, then quickly brushed it aside as he enfolded her in
his arms. “Oh, Glen,” she sighed. “We’re home.”
“Soon enough,” he said, nuzzling her ear.
Bonnie wandered the structure, walking into each room, imagining them completed. She peered
out the framed opening of the kitchen window that would look out onto the back yard. For some
reason, she recalled the story of Glen and his brother nailing up the broken tree branch, and smiled.
Turning from the kitchen, she went down the hall to inspect the three bedrooms and bath. The
rooms appeared small, but Glen assured her that was common with only the bare framing for
reference. Once they were completed, they would look much larger to her.
Bonnie returned to the living room to stand in front of the fireplace. She reached for Glen’s
hand and peered into his brown eyes, feeling his strength and love. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For?”
“For everything…for your patience…for bringing me here…for loving me.”
He smiled tenderly and kissed her, bringing his hands to rest on her hips. He pulled her close
and kissed her again, more ardently than before. With a release of breath, he leaned back and started
to chuckle. “We’d better leave before our new neighbors start talking.”
She laughed and followed him to the car. Her spirits lifted as Glen drove them to the restaurant.
At least for the moment, she felt wonderful, having seen the house and its progress. They’d be
moving in before she knew it. For the first time in weeks, she could feel her future taking a positive
turn.
Inside the restaurant, they were seated at a booth, and Glen ordered some wine. Soft amber light
glowed over their table, creating an intimate atmosphere. Glen reached for Bonnie’s hand.
It felt as if they were dating again, the way he looked at her, the electric tension she sensed in his
fingertips. She smiled, a seductive wave washing over her, happy to be feeling something beside a
consuming loss.
Glen rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, his eyes filled with devotion. “Have I
mentioned lately how much I love you?”
Bonnie smiled softly and caressed his cheek. “In everything you do,” she murmured.
He pressed the palm of her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I can’t imagine my life without you.
Sometimes I feel almost guilty for being so happy—as though I don’t deserve it. But then I look at
you and I know we were meant to be together—to make each other happy.”
Bonnie’s heart swelled with her love for him.“ And you
do
make me happy. Never doubt that.”
He kissed her fingers, then held her hand between his. “You’re so beautiful.”
She suddenly surged with desire. “Maybe we should skip dinner and go home.”
He grinned.
“Hello, Bonnie.”
Bonnie looked up at the mention of her name. She felt a jolt of surprise register on her face.
“Paul—” Her eyes flicked to Glen as she gestured toward him. “Paul, this is my husband, Glen
Taggart.”
Paul Warsoff stood at the edge of the table, dressed immaculately as always, a pretty blonde by
his side. His brows lifted as he extended his hand to Glen. “Husband, huh? I’m Paul Warsoff.”
Glen nodded with a note of recognition. “Yes, Bonnie has mentioned your name.”
Paul’s brows lifted. “Has she?” He leaned forward as if to disclose a secret. “Did she mention
how she completely captivated me?”
Bonnie felt herself turning red, and motioned to the woman standing beside him. “Paul, that’s
not a very considerate thing to say in front of your date.”
Paul glanced at the blonde, then turned his eyes back to Bonnie. “This is my sister, Evelyn. She’s
visiting from Portland. How long have you been married?” he asked flatly, his eyes fixed on Bonnie.
“Almost seven months,” Glen replied.
Paul looked thoughtful a moment. “You two must have met shortly after our courtship ended,”
he said to Bonnie.
Bonnie swallowed down a feeling of panic. She’d told Glen about Paul, that they had dated, but
she’d never mentioned the history she’d provided to Paul—her supposed life in New York, the
death of a husband, things that could unravel her happy life with Glen. She began to rise from the
booth. “It was so good to see you again, Paul. We were just about to leave.”
Paul stood in her way. “But you haven’t even eaten,” he said. “I saw you come in a few minutes
ago.”
Glen reached across the table for Bonnie’s hand. She sank back into her seat, her alarm rising to
meet her racing pulse. Glen looked at Paul. “I just ordered some wine. Would you care to have a
glass?”
Bonnie felt her stomach plummet. She didn’t want Paul to sit, couldn’t risk what he might say.
She tugged her hand free and ran her fingers over her brow. “Yes, please—”
“No, thanks. I don’t want to intrude,” Paul said, looking at Bonnie. He continued, his voice
lowering to match his earnest expression. “For what it’s worth, Bonnie, I’ve never seen you so
happy. It’s quite obvious you love your husband very much.” Paul turned to face Glen. “You’re very
lucky, Mr. Taggart. I only wish that she had looked at me the way she looks at you.
Congratulations.”
Glen reached over and touched Bonnie’s hand again. “I’m extremely lucky,” he said, smiling at
her.
Paul agreed with a single nod. “You two must drop by the office some time. It would be my
pleasure to take you to lunch.”
Glen opened his mouth to say something, but Bonnie rushed ahead. “That sounds great,” she
said, gathering her purse to exit the booth. “It’s been so good seeing you again, Paul. Nice meeti ng
you, Evelyn.”
Glen got up and shook Paul’s hand. “Good night.”
“Take care of her,” Paul said with an added laugh.
“By all means,” Glen called over his shoulder as he followed Bonnie to the front of the
restaurant.
Bonnie could scarcely feel herself breathing when she got in the car. All she could think about
was how narrowly she had just avoided disaster. How would she have explained herself to Glen if
Paul had brought up any of her lies? It was too much to contemplate, too frightening. How she
wished she could erase the past, obliterate it so she’d never have to worry again. Of course, that
wasn’t going to happen. She was doomed to live with her mistakes—bound to keep her secrets, even
from Glen. It pained her to deceive him, but what else could she do? She was trapped in a web of
her own making.