No Perfect Secret

by Weger, Jackie

“No. I was just wondering how Clarence gets anything done with his long black fingernails and flyswatter eyelashes.”

  “Oh. Those are his Savannah persona. Those are gone until he goes back to work. He took out his hair extensions, too. JoJo cut his hair. He looks like a regular person now. Except for his OCD rituals, of course. He’s kind of cute.”

  “What does that mean? Kind of cute.”

  Using a pot holder she put the plate of chops and potatoes on the table then grabbed a beer and the plate of asparagus from the fridge. Knife, fork and napkins came next. Caburn sat down, but did not begin to eat.

  “Cute—not handsome. Unless you know, you really can’t tell he’s different. He doesn’t swish his fanny.”

  Caburn rolled his eyes. “Stop. I get the picture. Do you mind if I use my fingers to eat these pork chops?”

  “Go ahead.” She spread the files out across the table.”

  “What’re those? Something for me?”

  “Nope. I tried paying for my swimsuits and a wrap with our Visa card and it was declined. I gave them our MasterCard, and it went through. When I got home I called, and found out the Visa was maxed out. I’m trying to figure out what Kevin spent all this money on.”

  Caburn held up a finger until he swallowed. “Albert talked to us about that. The other…um—”

  “Woman—Janie,” Anna injected.

  “She couldn’t be put on Nesmith’s insurance at work. You’re on it. Albert figures Nesmith had to pay cash for the hospital and doctor bills for the little boy.”

  Anna went very still. A few seconds later, she nodded. “Yes, of course. I didn’t even think about it in practical terms. Obviously, a second mortgage, utilities, food, clothes, cars, furniture.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m scaring myself. I wonder how much of all this I’ll be responsible for?”

  “You’ll only be responsible for those that are joint accounts—that you signed the application jointly.”

  “Are you certain? That’s only the MasterCard and the Visa. My car is paid for. My name is not on his car, and his name is not mine. But we’re on the auto insurance together.” Anna thought back to when they signed the papers on the house at the title company. Kevin had balked at having his name on the mortgage. He had smoothed it over with a compelling argument: The down payment had been her inheritance. She was young, naïve, new in marriage, unaware of the complexities of a financial life.

  Caburn took his used cutlery to the sink. He poured a glass of ice water and sat down again across from Anna. “Your brain is working. I can see wheels turning through your eyes.”

  “You are going to find other women out there. I mean, besides me and Janie.”

  “How? I mean what made you come to that conclusion?”

  “Because he didn’t want his name on anything—like real property. He balked at having his name on our mortgage. I thought he was being sweet at the time. But that wasn’t it. I’m a researcher. Property ownership is on line now. Who owns what is public information.”

  “Credit cards aren’t real property?”

  “No, they are not. I filled out those applications and ordered him a card.”

  Caburn took a long drink of water. “Well, one of the things I wanted to talk to you about was that we did find another woman. You mentioned St Augustine a couple of times and Albert thought we ought to follow up.”

  Anna felt a small explosion in the secret places in her heart. She had never allowed her suspicions to come to fruition for fear she might find a truth that would shake the foundation she had built her life upon. She had buried those suspicions so deep, it had taken the cataclysm of Kevin’s death to resurrect them.

  Caburn reached into his pocket and brought out a folded and crumpled envelope.

  Anna smoothed it out. “Before I look. Were there children?”

  “No.”

  It was two pages. A divorce decree. “Kevin was married before?”

  “That’s what is says.”

  Her fingertips were scrolling down the sheets of paper. “At least he divorced…”

  Her finger stopped on the date of dissolution.

  The astonished pain in Anna’s expression made Caburn cringe.

  She stood up so suddenly her chair overturned. She felt raw—violated and used. “I need to be alone, Frank.”

  He moved to put her chair right. “Allow me to stay. Please. I don’t like to think of you alone.”

  “But I’ve been alone all these years. Don’t you understand? I get it now. The only reason Kevin stayed as long as he did was that I was his mother’s caregiver.”

  “I do understand. He betrayed you.”

  “Yes he did. His secret was perfect. Perfect! Until he died. I wish he wasn’t dead—just so I could tell him what I think of him.” Punish him. Dr Neal’s words flashed into her mind. You can’t punish him—he’s dead. Oh. It was so unfair.

  Caburn exhaled. “No secrets are ever perfect. People always know something. They just don’t know they know it.”

  “I won’t argue with that. How many hours a day do you practice convolution?”

  “If I knew what convolution was, I could tell you. What’re you going to do?”

  “Shampoo my hair.” Talk to my mom.

  For a moment Caburn was speechless. One minute she was fine, objective, and the next, she was contrary—taking it out on him. How could women be that way? He threw up his hands. “All right. I’ll go. I’ll call you later.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  On Wednesday afternoon Dr Neal met Anna in the lobby of the hospital and they walked together to her tiny office. The small desk was free of clutter, but bookshelves that crowded two walls were filled with medical papers, books, and journals. A floor lamp gave off weak light, and the blinds were open to any gray light the overcast skies offered. Dr Neal’s nicely framed certificates and awards were not hung, but leaned haphazardly against books, as if they were often moved in order to reach the texts they hid.

  Dr Neal coaxed out of Anna how she felt after learning of Kevin’s duplicity in her marriage. “I showered for an hour. I just felt dirty.”

  “You felt shame, Anna. We women cloak ourselves in it—when it isn’t even our burden. The shame is with Kevin.”

  “He never felt shame,” said Anna, filled with righteous anger. “He just used me and used me and used me.” That she had allowed it to happen was an indictment of her own judgment and maturity. Her intellect, too. “I feel utterly...utterly...stupid.”

  Dr Neal smiled her lovely smile, showing her small straight teeth. “Anna, do you think I’m stupid?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why not?”

  Anna flustered. “Well, look at all of your diplomas and certificates.” She pointed to a medical journal. “Isn’t that your picture on the front? You’re director of psychiatry at this hospital, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. When I was thirty-eight, and had all of those degrees and my license to practice in hand, I married the man of my dreams. He was gorgeous, GQ all the way. His words were silk, his touch like velvet. My parents and grandparents adored him. My older brother even went into business with him. Three days after we returned from our honeymoon, he spent the night with his mistress. He even got my brother to cover for him, telling me they had worked all night on a contract. He went to a medical conference with me. I was a presenter. When my colleagues were complimenting me, he said, ‘Hell yes, she’s good. She reads guilt like a newspaper. Knows before I do when I’m gonna slip around on her.’

  “The psychiatrist in me was saying, Hello. But the woman in me was saying: What am I doing wrong? How did I let this happen? I was mortified by his behavior—especially in front of my colleagues. They were embarrassed for me. What confused me was that he was a great dad. We had adopted a little girl from China. He was then, and is now, totally in awe of her. She attends Julliard, and he never misses her concerts. But he just wasn’t husband material. He loved the chase, but not the catching. I wasn’
t doing anything wrong. The same way you haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You divorced him?”

  “Yes, I did, to the dismay of my mother, who still thinks he’s Mr Wonderful.”

  “But, did you stop loving him in an instant?”

  Dr Neal was quiet for a moment, thinking. “You know, I think I did. As soon as that awful remark was out of his mouth.”

  “I stopped loving Kevin the moment Janie told me she was his wife. She had his baby in her arms. I just couldn’t get past that.” She folded her hands in her lap, a flush rising to her cheeks. “And...and...I’m thinking of having an affair.”

  Dr Neal’s eyes twinkled. “You don’t need my approval, Anna.”

  “I guess not. But I do need a prescription for birth control pills.”

  “Oh, my goodness. I almost forgot.” Dr Neal pulled out a drawer and lifted a pad of notes, glanced at it and returned it to the drawer. “You had some questions about codes or symbols in Kevin’s notebooks.”

  “I asked Frank about that a few days ago.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Nothing. He was beside himself. He was...fractious—waving his hands around. We were out to dinner. I thought for minute he was choking.”

  “Perhaps he was, but not on food. What was coded was very personal—and about you.”

  “Me?” Anna pointed to herself as if she misheard. “Me?”

  “What all those dates and symbols had to do with is the rhythm system. It’s a guide to when women ovulate and can become pregnant. Or, not—if intercourse does not take place.”

  “We were trying—” The shoe dropped. “I was trying to get pregnant. Those dates.” For a moment she couldn’t breathe. “Kevin was making sure I didn’t. Oh, that explains so much. The arguments over inconsequential nothings. What I cooked for dinner—or didn’t. His pouting and only coming to bed after I was asleep. The silent treatment. He had these moods, and there was just no way to please him.”

  Dr Neal nodded. “All of those behaviors are forms of manipulation.”

  Anna exhaled softly. “Well, he was a master at it, because I never suspected a thing. I even insisted we see a fertility specialist. Nothing was wrong with either one of us.” Anna slipped into the past, recalling Kevin’s soothing words. “It will happen, darling. We’ll be pregnant when you least expect it.”

  Her hands twisted into fists.

  “Damn him. Damn him. Damn him. My entire life with him was a lie. I am not even his widow. I don’t know what I am.”

  “Yes, you do,” Dr Neal countered. “You’re a beautiful young woman caught up in a tragic situation not of your making. I’m asking you not to spend your emotions and energies grieving for what might have been.”

  “That’s hard to do. I mean, I know I can’t change anything. I’m distraught because Kevin betrayed me. And, I find myself thinking really hateful things about Clara-Alice.”

  “Clara has a severe personality disorder, Anna. Don’t think I’m excusing her behavior, because I’m not. However, her son put an immense amount of pressure on her to keep his secrets. She couldn’t make herself strike out at him, so she chose you. The anxiety she’s felt these past few weeks has exacerbated the disorder. And, of course, over the years, he has had to keep her secret, too.”

  “Clara-Alice has a secret?”

  “Her son was an out-of-wedlock baby. Miss Calloway faxed his birth certificate over. She was twenty-eight. Father: unknown. She lived for some months in a shelter for unwed mothers. Nesmith is her maiden name.”

  Anna wasn’t giving attention to Clara-Alice being an unwed mother. That would come later. Right now she was thinking about another lie. About Kevin telling her he had promised his dad to always take care of his mother. She simmered, feeling angst sucking at the foundation of the new life she was trying to build for herself. “Clara-Alice told me she got pregnant with Kevin on her honeymoon.

  “I want this to be over with,” she said, her voice strained. “I just want it to end. I want the funeral over with. I want Clara-Alice to be settled somewhere. Once that happens, I think I can get on with my life. I will get on with my life.”

  “You can get on with your life starting today, Anna. Don’t put it off.” Dr Neal pulled out a pad and wrote Anna two prescriptions. Then she reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and drew out a cigarette and a lighter. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car. I want to have a smoke before I do afternoon rounds.” She saw the surprise on Anna’s face, and laughed. “Now you know my secret. I discipline myself to three a day. One in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one before bed.”

  Anna stopped briefly in the lobby to admire the towering tree. “I love the Christmas season,” she said wistfully. “I love the hustle and bustle of shopping, the music, wrapping presents—”

  Dr Neal tugged at her arm. “Don’t go melancholy on me, Anna. You’ve been focused on one unpleasant event after another. Think of the big picture. No matter what happens, you’ll come out just fine. You’re single, attractive, and well-educated. That makes for an independence that many would envy.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll discipline myself to three five-minute pity parties a day.”

  Dr Neal laughed. “Oh, boy—I walked into that one.” She pulled her lab coat tight around herself. “Wow. It’s cold. I think I’m going to leave you here. Have a nice holiday trip. Enjoy yourself. Soak up the sun.”

  Anna smiled. “Is that a prescription, too?”

  “It is. I have a number of patients who suffer from SADs; Seasonal Affective Disorder—not enough sunlight. Skews their brains and causes depression. I send them to sunny climes. Let’s talk again after the holidays.”

  Anna lingered in the parking lot, sitting in her car, letting the interior warm as the sky darkened, an island of silence in the midst of a bustling world. She didn’t feel free, not entirely. She was carrying too much baggage. She thought about Frank Caburn, the shape of his hands, and how it felt to be in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Warmth radiated through her, filling her with such a yearning that she ached. They had not even kissed—not really. The little peck on the side of her mouth under the mistletoe didn’t count. She fingered the prescriptions in her coat pocket. The papers were crisp and cold. There was no one in the world now who knew how wild her passion. It had been restrained for so long, she thought she’d burst.

  Halogen lights on their tall silver poles came on in the parking lot, sending wavering light into the misting cold. Anna sat up straighter. Holy smokes! How long had she been daydreaming? Lila was waiting for her. Since neither of them would be home on Christmas Day, they were cooking and delivering food tonight and tomorrow for the neighborhood shut-ins. And she still had summer clothes to wash, iron, and pack.

  ~~~~

  “I wish my dishwasher wasn’t on the blink,” complained Lila, her hands deep in soapy water. “But, it’s just me—I don’t use that many dishes.”

  Anna checked the four chickens baking in the oven. They were stuffed with cornbread seasoned with sage, onions, celery, and butter, and basted with pure chicken bouillon. Four pecan pies cooled on the kitchen counter. Fresh cranberries were popping on a back burner. “Stop washing dishes and pour yourself a glass of wine. I’ll finish up. It won’t be much. It just looks like a lot with all these pots and tins scattered.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice. What do you want to drink?”

  “Diet Coke. I have too much yet to do to get sluggish on wine tonight.” Anna stirred sugar into the cranberries and when the liquid came clear moved the pot off the stove.

  Lila took a long sip of sherry. “Did you tell all of your friends back home about Kevin?”

  “Nope. I signed all my Christmas cards, love, Anna. That will give them a hint. I’ll figure out something to tell them after the funeral. If I tell them before, they’ll send flowers. He doesn’t deserve that kind of caring.”

  “But, the flowers would be for you.”
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br />   “Actually, I don’t even want to do the funeral. I know it sounds disrespectful. If Clara-Alice was in better shape, I’d let her do it. But, she isn’t.”

  The timer pinged. Anna took the chickens out of the oven and put in the green bean casseroles. All of the meals were being cooked and delivered in disposable aluminum pans. She leaned against the sink.

  “I’ve decided to sell or lease my house, Lila. I just don’t think I’d be happy living there anymore. I want to live in the Adam’s-Morgan area or down by the Eastern Market. I loved it there. Plus, it’s closer to work.”

  “Adam’s-Morgan! Girl, you’ll have to pay both arms and a leg for that.”

  “I know. But our homes are worth a small mint in this area. We have front yards, back yards. You have a garage.”

  “What’s a small mint?”

  “Probably in the 300,000 range.”

  Lila went pale. “Dollars?”

  “Easily.”

  “Wow. I could buy a little condo in Florida.” She took a huge swallow of sherry. “—and have money left over to travel.” After a few thoughts, Lila sobered. “Anna, I know this whole mess hasn’t been easy on you, but if Kevin had not been such a scalawag and Clara-Alice hadn’t gone off the rails, we wouldn’t have met so many nice people. I’ve become a surrogate grandmother to Clarence and JoJo. I like Helen and Louise, too; and, Frank.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “He’s got his eye on you. You like him, don’t you?”

  Anna felt her neck grow warm. “I do. I tried not to, but I really do.”

  “Good golly, Anna. Don’t fight it. If there is any single thing I learned during the War, it’s to grab life while it’s handy. Why be faithful to Kevin’s memory? He wasn’t faithful to you. Maybe you can push things along with Frank while you’re in Cancun.”

  “Maybe,” replied Anna, thinking of the prescriptions she had yet to fill—one of which was for the ‘morning after’. Dr Neal was forward thinking, but that one she’d trash. She’d longed for a child for so long there was no way she’d undo an accidental pregnancy. Or perhaps she’d fill neither. Asking for the prescription had seemed the right thing to do.