A Well-Kept Family Secret

by Marja McGraw

  “Let’s go take a look around,” I said. “I kind of like the old place.”

  “You would. It just looks like an old house to me.” I loved antiques and Pete didn’t. We had distinctly different tastes in some areas.

  He stepped up onto the porch and stamped his foot on the boards.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. He had no respect for history, obviously.

  “Checking to see how sturdy it is.” He stamped again. “Seems to be in pretty good shape. I think someone has replaced several of the boards. Maybe rebuilt the whole porch.”

  “Ah.” Men seem to enjoy checking out this kind of thing. I’ve noticed when a new building is going up there are always a few men standing nearby, watching the progress. I guess it’s a guy thing.

  I walked to one of the windows and looked inside. “Empty. I was hoping someone lived here so we could see the inside. At least we can walk around and peek through the windows. And see the outside, of course.”

  I followed Pete off the porch and headed toward the back of the house. The backyard was pretty overgrown, obviously having been neglected for a long time. The dried leaves crunched under our feet.

  “It’s hard to imagine that a relative of mine lived here over a hundred years ago.” I heard a car door slam in the general direction of the street. “I think my mother and Frank are here.”

  We walked back to the front yard. Mother waved and they headed up the walkway.

  “This is great.” For whatever reason, my mother was impressed with the old house. “And look. It’s for sale.”

  “I saw that.”

  Pete and Frank had already walked up to the porch, and the next thing I knew, Frank was stamping his foot on the boards. He and Pete had their heads down and were talking quietly.

  “Let’s explore, Sandi.” Mother took hold of my hand and pulled me along behind her. “I only know about this house from stories my mother told, and yet it looks familiar. I’m surprised.”

  We walked around the yard, taking in what must have been a real showplace at one time. I could picture it as it might have looked before becoming overgrown. It had a very comfortable feel to it.

  “Listen to the leaves crackling while we walk around. I love that sound. Reminds me of fall, even though it’s still hot. Can’t you just picture yourself sitting out here on a bench under the trees? Reading a good book?” Mother was enjoying herself.

  “I don’t have much time to read anymore,” I replied. Actually, I was sorry I didn’t have more time. I truly enjoyed a good book.

  “Oh, Sandi, make the time. Although I have to admit, I read less since I met Frank. It seems that we’re always on the go.”

  “Let’s take a peek through the windows,” I said. “Pete and I looked in from the front, but I wasn’t paying much attention to the house itself. I was trying to see if anyone still lives here.”

  We walked back to the front of the house and climbed the steps. Pete and Frank had moved to the end of the porch and we found them tapping on the walls.

  “These old houses were pretty solid.” Frank was pointing out some minute detail to Pete.

  Mother and I glanced at each other. She shook her head and turned to one of the windows.

  “Can you see much?” I asked, joining her.

  “Look at this, Sandi. The yard may not look too great, but the inside has been well-cared for.”

  “It sure has. It could probably use a coat of paint, or maybe wallpaper, but it doesn’t appear neglected.”

  “This is a nice living room. It seems to me that this room should be smaller though. I’ll bet they combined two rooms to enlarge this area. Hmm.” Mother had a distant look in her eyes.

  “I seem to remember my mother saying that there was a formal parlor and a sitting room, side by side. Yes, I’m sure of it. Someone has combined the two rooms. I’ll have to ask Martha if she remembers anything. She’s older than I am, so maybe she remembers it better.”

  “This was Merced’s house, right?” I asked. “I mean, this wasn’t Vincente’s house, was it?”

  “It was their house, and then she made him move out. He never moved back in. I don’t think the house he bought is probably standing anymore. He lived near his business, which would be close to where Union Station now stands, and that whole area has been built over.”

  I nodded, knowing she was right.

  “There used to be nothing but farms in this area. Small ones, but still farms. After Vincente left Merced, or rather after she kicked him out, she sold part of the land and more houses were built. She kept just enough land to ensure she’d have plenty of space. She didn’t want neighbors living too close to her. I guess it’s been subdivided since then, but the house still sits on a fairly large lot.”

  Turning around, I discovered that the men had wandered off. “Shall we see where Pete and Frank have disappeared to?”

  “I think they took a walk down the block.” She glanced down the street. “Ah, here they come.”

  “We’re not accomplishing much. I don’t know what we thought we’d find anyway,” Pete said, standing next to me and looking up at the old house.

  “I don’t know either. Mother thought this might be a good place to begin searching for the gold.”

  “And I still think this is the best place to start looking,” Mother said.

  “Yeah, right, like that’s so realistic.” I said it under my breath, but she heard me.

  “Well,” she said cheerfully, “you’ve got to start somewhere. Call the agent while we’re gone and see if they’ll let you inside. You never know what treasure awaits you.”

  “Huh.” She made it sound so easy, but I knew better.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  1898

  Vincente opened the front door of his house and entered with purpose. He was tired and didn’t want to think about the past anymore. Florence, the newest nurse, was still waiting for him. He didn’t want to deal with her, but he had no choice.

  When she began speaking he held up his hand, palm facing her, indicating his control and the need for silence. He told the woman not to say another word, not one more word, and to pack her things and leave. He wasn’t going to put up with any more of her outbursts.

  Florence started to cry, saying she didn’t know where she’d go and that she loved him. She continued to weep when he told her he didn’t believe a word of it and didn’t want to hear her lies. She told him she would do whatever he asked, if only she could stay.

  The old man knew better, but relented, telling her in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t put up with her harping anymore. She blotted her crocodile tears, for that’s exactly what they were, and peered up at him through long, thick lashes. An infinitesimal grin formed at the corners of her mouth. This woman was about as transparent as a piece of fine glass.

  The old man needed sleep. He ordered Florence to stay in the spare bedroom for the night and said they would talk later – at his convenience.

  2003

  Pete left the property to head over to the police station where he would check on Amanda’s stalker and finish his report. We both knew he’d probably already been bailed out, but Pete would find out for sure. We’d contact Amanda again and go from there.

  Frank and Mother gave me a ride back to my apartment so I could pick up my car.

  Mother gave me a hug. “We’ll see you in about a week. We’ll be heading for Laughlin soon.”

  Frank gave me a hug, too, but we were a bit clumsy, not used to each other yet.

  I drove to my office with the intention of diving into the research project I had ahead of me. There was a message on the answering machine from Stanley, saying he would stop by the office on his way to work to see if I needed more help. He explained that the whole office was working, even though it was Saturday. Stanley had once told me that he frequently worked on Saturdays, and he didn’t sound too happy about it.

  Turning on the computer, I waited impatiently while it booted up. I was ready. I was
poised. I was anxious to get started. I was antsy. I picked up a file folder and began to fan myself. Ack! I was turning into my mother. I dropped the folder back on my desk.

  When everything was ready to go, I checked my email, wondering if I’d received responses to any of the messages I’d sent out about L.A. history. There was a reply from Adrian Praetzellis, the professor from Sonoma State University whom I’d contacted about the project near Union Station. He asked if there was something specific I wanted to know. I emailed him back and explained that I was doing some research involving a murder from the late 1800s and told him I’d be interested in any information he could provide about the era and the area. I thanked him for getting back to me so quickly.

  Since I’d received no response from the Historical Society, I decided to go back to Merced’s letters and the old newspaper articles.

  The articles were photocopies so they included advertisements. I found myself chuckling as I read them. There was an ad for dentures, “Fit Guaranteed”, and only two dollars. Children’s shoes were being sold for seventy-five cents up to a dollar and a half, and you could buy “Wright’s Indian Vegetable Pills” to combat constipation. You might also want to try “Dr. McMunn’s Elixir of Opium for Nervousness and Insomnia.” How much had things really changed over the years?

  A headline in the Los Angeles Daily Times dated December 2, 1903, under the heading of “The Mayor in Line” said, “Mayor Snyder Says Crib District Will be Wiped Out – Board of Health Glad of it. Keeney Stirs Up Police Commission, Ministers Rejoice”. I didn’t know who Keeney was, and it appeared that I had some reading ahead of me, but at the moment I wanted to find something from 1897 or 1898. I shuffled through the stack of copies, but I couldn’t find anything earlier than 1902. I’d have to do my own research for the earlier dates. That meant a lot of time spent at the library.

  I picked up a letter Merced had written to her sister, but heard the front door open before I could take it from its envelope. Setting it down, I glanced up to see who’d entered the office.

  Frank was standing by the door, looking pathetic.

  “Frank, what are you doing here?” I glanced past him but didn’t see anyone else. “Where’s Mother? I thought you two were leaving for Nevada.”

  “We are, but not until tomorrow morning.” He walked over to my desk and sat down in the chair next to it. “I decided to keep a low profile for a while.”

  “What’s wrong?” I was half afraid to hear the answer.

  “Well, when Livvie cussed at her tuna salad sandwich at brunch, I knew things weren’t going well. She never cusses, you know that. And at a sandwich? Anyway, we left the restaurant and she seemed to be in one of her moods, so I didn’t say much.

  “We drove back to the motel to pick up our bags, and the next thing I knew, she was beating a hibiscus bush in the parking lot with her backpack. Fortunately, there wasn’t anyone around to see what was going on or they probably would have called the police.

  “She said she wanted to be alone for a while so I drove over here. Have you ever seen her do anything like that?” Understandably, there was a slight tone of panic in his voice.

  I had a mental picture of this and it took a moment to stop laughing. “Oh, yes. When I was a kid, every so often she’d take the broom out to the back yard and pound the pooh out of the hibiscus bush. When she came back inside she was fine, and it was never discussed. My dad and I didn’t know what to think.”

  I could see Frank beginning to relax.

  “Knowing what I know now, and looking back, I think her behavior was probably a hormonal thing. I think you’re right in lying low. Past experience tells me she should be back to normal by tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. You know, hormones can cause problems long before the change of life begins. I believe she’s been going through this for most of her life.”

  “I care very much for your mother,” Frank said, “but I have to admit I’m glad to have met you. Sometimes I need someone to talk to about her, someone who understands. Your aunt Martha just isn’t any help. She’s worse than your mother. Ooops! Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense.”

  “None taken. I believe you care for her, or you’d already be long gone. And Aunt Martha is a whole ’nother story.”

  “I’ve read up on this change of life business, and I realize it won’t last forever, but I have to admit it’s hard to cope with sometimes.”

  “Frank, please don’t tell Mother about this, but I’ve made a doctor’s appointment for her. She needs to be on hormone pills or something. I’ll tell her about it when you two return from Nevada. My doctor is really quite good, and I think she can help Mother.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, and I’m grateful. She has this strange idea that if she admits what’s going on it will be like admitting she’s old. Your mother isn’t old, believe me.”

  “I know,” I replied, hoping he wouldn’t offer any explanation. “Why don’t you hang out here for a while. When Pete comes in maybe you two can go somewhere.” I was thinking that a good stiff drink wouldn’t hurt him, but I didn’t want to say that.

  “Good idea. That is, if I won’t be in your way.”

  “Not at all. I’m happy to have you for company.” I thought maybe if Frank and I talked, it would give me the chance to get to know him better.

  We chatted for fifteen minutes, laughing about some of my mother’s antics. I genuinely liked Frank. Pete returned in time to hear us and wondered what was so amusing. He joined in the conversation after hearing the topic, enjoying the camaraderie. Although my initial impressions were that my mother was walking all over Frank, I discovered I was wrong. He had patience, and lots of it. He saw my mother’s finer qualities and tended to overlook her moods as much as possible. He’d actually known her for quite some time, but hadn’t started seeing her socially until a year ago. She is a good woman, and I knew his patience would pay off in the end. However, he put his foot down from time to time, and according to him, she paid attention.

  “What did you find out about Amanda’s boyfriend?” I turned to Pete, curious about his visit to the police station.

  “He’s out. Someone put up the bail for him.”

  “Does Amanda know yet?”

  “Yeah, I called her. Told her she’d better keep an eye out for him and to call 9-1-1 if he showed his face around her place. And we’re back on the case. She’s going to be out for the rest of the day, so we’re going to hook up with her later this evening. She said she’s going to visit a friend where he won’t be able to find her.”

  “Good.” By later in the day, maybe Mother and Frank would have left for Laughlin. I was uncomfortable with them tagging along, and I knew my mother would want to do that again, given half a chance.

  “Pete, why don’t you take Frank and go do something,” I suggested. “Mother is going through one of her moods again and wanted to be left alone.”

  Pete grinned. “Come on, Frank. I know a great bar where we can get a beer and watch baseball.”

  “You’re on. In fact, I’ll buy.”

  About that time, Stanley walked in. “Hello, everyone. What’s up?”

  “Come on, Stanley, we’re having a guys’ day out. We’re gonna go get blasted at Crazy Larry’s.”

  “Pete, you’re not really going to get drunk, are you?” Silly me, worrying about the men drinking. I’d never seen Pete drink more than a couple of beers in one sitting. But still… Crazy Larry’s? And in the morning? I’d never heard of the place and wasn’t encouraged by the name.

  “If we need a driver, we’ll call you.” Pete grinned at me.

  Uh oh.

  “Crazy Larry’s? Hmm. No, I have to go to work,” Stanley said. “I surely wish I could join you fellows though.” He looked disappointed. The offer had finally been made to have a guys’ day out, and he couldn’t go.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “Call your office and take the day off,” Frank said. “We men have to stick together once in a while.”

&
nbsp; After a brief moment of silence, Stanley straightened his shoulders. “You’re right. Give me a moment to call my employer and then we can leave. I’d enjoy some male bonding. Besides, I never miss a day of work.”

  “Stanley?” He surprised me. This didn’t sound like him.

  “It’s a guy thing, Sandi.” A guy thing? Stanley’s speech was always, always more formal that that.

  He picked up my phone and dialed his office. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but I thought he was nervous and it looked like his hands were shaking. The tic in his eye was back. Yeah, that was always a sure sign of his nervousness.

  Stanley was changing. This didn’t sound like the meek little man I was used to. The whole world was going crazy, or at least my small patch of it.

  “Herb, this is Stanley. I won’t be in the office today.”

  He paused. “You heard me right. I’ll see you on Monday.” He hung up the receiver with finality, and I noticed he was shaking a bit harder.

  “Stanley, you aren’t going to get yourself into trouble, are you?” I asked.

  “No, Herb’s okay. He’s not used to me being assertive, that’s all.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Come on, Stan, my man.” Pete threw his arm around Stanley’s shoulders, and Stanley grinned from ear to ear. He was really enjoying being one of the boys.

  “Call me if you need a ride,” I said to the backs of the three men walking out the door. The last few days had held too many surprises.

  After they were gone I decided to call the real estate agent about the old house. I dug through my backpack until I found the phone number, called the realty office and asked for Joanne Treat, the name listed on the For Sale sign.