Too Many Secrets

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “About two hours.” Jennie mashed her poached eggs into the hash browns and reached for the salt and pepper. “I have an assignment to finish in chemistry lab today, and I need to pick up some books at the library. I should be home about ten.”

  “That’s perfect,” Mom said. “I have an appointment downtown at ten-thirty, so you’ll need to run Nick to school.”

  Jennie nodded, thinking how weird it seemed to be having such a normal conversation after what had happened yesterday. Mom didn’t mention Michael, so Jennie didn’t either. Maybe Mom was having second thoughts.

  At seven-thirty Jennie pulled up in front of Lisa’s house.

  “You okay?” Lisa asked in an out-of-breath voice as she tossed her books in the backseat and climbed in the front.

  Jennie shrugged, waited for a car to go past, then eased onto the street. “I’ve been better. Did Gram call you guys last night?”

  “No,” Lisa said as she snapped her seat belt into place. “Mom was talking about calling the police and filing a missing person’s report if she didn’t hear from her today.”

  “Good idea. I talked to Ryan last night and he didn’t seem too worried. I don’t know, though. I just can’t get over the feeling that something’s wrong.”

  “You worry too much.” Lisa pushed a stray curl off her forehead. “Remember last year when Gram went to Mexico and came back a week late?”

  Jennie nodded. Did she ever remember! “I don’t even like to think about it. Gram could have been killed.”

  “You don’t still believe that story, do you?”

  She did. They had all gone to pick Gram up at the airport. Gram was wearing one of those huge sombreros and a bright pink gauze dress with a floral print shawl. She had practically danced all the way down the concourse. Later at dinner she told them a wild story about a gang of drug dealers who had kidnapped her and held her prisoner on a marijuana plantation because they thought she was a federal narcotics agent.

  “Well, do you?” Lisa asked again.

  “Part of it. I still wonder if maybe the kidnapping wasn’t a mistake—that maybe she really was an agent.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember our talking about that. We were really heavy into those Mrs. Pollifax mysteries then. We thought maybe Gram was working for the FBI too. But we were only fifteen. You don’t still believe that, do you?”

  “Why shouldn’t I? It makes perfect sense. I mean, why else would she go to the Middle East? Remember that? She didn’t even write an article about that trip.”

  “Still,” Lisa said, “Gram’s too old to be a spy. Maybe when she was younger, but at her age? She probably made the whole thing up so she wouldn’t have to admit that she’d lost track of time.”

  Jennie sighed. “Maybe. Then again, maybe not.” As they pulled into the school parking lot, she told Lisa about Gram’s answering machine.

  Lisa shrugged. “It was probably a malfunction like Ryan said. Anyway, I’ve got to run. Wish me luck. I have a test in algebra.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to pray?” Jennie asked. “Between Mr. Olsen’s algebra tests and your love for math, you’ll need a lot more than wishes.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Lisa muttered as she jumped out of the car, collected her books, and jogged toward the building.

  Jennie grinned, thinking how much Gram and Aunt Kate and Lisa were alike—not in looks, but in personality—always in a hurry, as if they’re running late even when they weren’t. Jennie shook her head and retrieved her book bag and notebook, then headed across the parking lot. It sure was nice not to be taking Mr. Olsen’s test with Lisa. Jennie had finished up that module two weeks ago. She still had some assignments to finish, but the hardest part was over.

  Mom had transferred Jennie to Trinity at the beginning of seventh grade, after getting into a major battle over what she called “the public school system’s inflexibility.” Since Mom worked nearly full time as a bookkeeper, she wanted Jennie home to babysit Nick when she had to be gone. Jennie attended school for a couple of hours three days a week. The rest of the time she used a home-school program.

  At first Jennie had hated it. Home school was so different from what everyone else was doing. Now she thought it was great. She liked being in the same school as Lisa, and Jennie loved the freedom. Since she worked at her own pace, she would finish her sophomore year two weeks earlier than kids taking regular classes.

  As Jennie pushed open the office door, Mrs. Talbot’s high-pitched voice brought her thoughts back to the present. “Hello, Jennie. I was just thinking about you. Coach Haskel left a message for you to call him about being on the girls’ basketball team next year, and you need to set up a time to take your SATs.” She went back to her desk to retrieve the notes. “Oh, and this letter came for you this morning.”

  “For me? Here?”

  She handed Jennie two green memos and a square envelope. “Struck me funny too,” Mrs. Talbot said as she squeezed into a chair and scooted up to her desk. “Especially since we don’t give out students’ names. Who’s it from?”

  Jennie glanced at the envelope. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have a return address.” After signing the attendance register, she hurried out to the hall, slipped the memos into her notebook, and fingered the peach-colored envelope. The writing looked familiar. Her hands shook as she tore open the envelope and unfolded the card.

  Dear Jennie:

  I’m sorry I haven’t been able to call. If anything happens to me, I want you to have the bracelet we found last summer.

  Love you, Gram

  Jennie felt as if she’d been plopped in the middle of a Nancy Drew mystery. First Gram didn’t show up for Nick’s birthday, then that business with her answering machine, and now this.

  Maybe Gram was getting senile. Jennie frowned and rubbed her forehead. The bracelet, an antique she and Gram had found in a crawl space at the back of Gram’s closet, was tucked away in Jennie’s jewelry box. Gram had given it to her the day they’d found it.

  What did she mean, “if anything happened to her”? What could happen? Jennie shoved the note into an inner compartment of her book bag and headed slowly down the empty hall. Her footsteps echoed on the linoleum-covered concrete floor. She concentrated on the sound so she wouldn’t think too much about Gram—so she wouldn’t get scared and panic.

  After turning in her term paper for history, Jennie headed for the chemistry lab to do an analysis of Dr. Adam’s mystery liquid. She had managed to stash Gram’s note out of sight, but her mind kept dredging it up. Why would Gram write a note about a bracelet she already had? Was it a clue? A secret code?

  The bad part about worrying over Gram and her strange message was that it took Jennie three tries to discover that the yellowish substance was CO(NH2)2—urine. The good part was that even though the bunsen burner had turned her first analysis to charcoal, she hadn’t blown up the lab.

  Jennie went through the rest of the day in a daze, trying to figure out what had happened to Gram. After dropping Nick off at preschool, Jennie decided Gram was a secret agent for the FBI, working on a case—maybe one involving an old bracelet. By the time she got home, Jennie was convinced that Gram had been kidnapped by terrorists and they’d never see her again.

  A phone call from Michael brought an end to Jennie’s mind maze. She told him Mom wasn’t home, and she didn’t know when to expect her.

  “Have her give me a call,” he said. “And Jennie, tell her not to make dinner. I’d like to take you all out for pizza.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Jennie said as she tried to think of an excuse not to go. In the end, after Mom threatened to take away her driving privileges if she didn’t go peacefully, they all piled into Michael’s metallic gray BMW.

  Jennie liked his car and wondered how nice she’d have to be to talk him into letting her drive it sometime. The minute the thought escape
d, Jennie crushed it. Michael was the enemy; she needed to remember that.

  They ordered a large combination pizza with no green peppers or anchovies. Not only did Jennie act like the perfect daughter, she managed not to throw it all up when Michael slid his arm around Mom and whispered something in her ear. Mom giggled and scooted away.

  How embarrassing. They were acting like a couple of love-starved teenagers! As soon as they got into the house Jennie made an excuse to get away from them. “Thanks for the pizza, Michael,” she said with as much enthusiasm as a corpse. “I’d love to visit, but I’ve got to work on my algebra assignment.”

  Jennie half-expected Mom to insist she stay downstairs and play a game or something, but she didn’t. She and Michael just said, “Goodnight,” and walked arm in arm into the living room. A chill shuddered through Jennie as she watched them. Her mom really cared about the guy. Jennie only hoped Gram would come and talk some sense into her before it was too late.

  Jennie grabbed a can of diet cola from the fridge and headed upstairs. Once in her room, she put Michael and Mom out of her mind and tried to concentrate on the note Gram had sent. She cleared off a spot in the center of her desk, laid the note down and stared at it. “What is she trying to tell me, God?” Jennie whispered.

  She picked the card up and examined it from all angles. It was just an ordinary note card, with a couple seashells on the front and a brief note inside. The postmark on the envelope indicated it had been mailed two days earlier from Lincoln City, just a few miles from Bay Village, where Gram lived.

  Jennie blinked and read the postmark again as she reached for the phone. Ryan answered on the first ring. “When did your mom talk to Gram?”

  “What?”

  “When did Gram call you and where did she call from?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “It could be important.”

  “Hang on a sec and I’ll ask Mom.” When he came back on the line he said, “Gram called about four o’clock. Mom said she didn’t say where she was calling from but figured it was from Calgary. Gram said she’d been delayed and didn’t want us to worry. What’s this all about?”

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Jennie said, “but I’m holding a note that Gram mailed from Lincoln City on May twenty-fourth. That was two days ago.” Jennie read the note to him. “If Gram called you from Canada yesterday, what was she doing in Lincoln City the day before? If she was in Lincoln City, she would have just gone home … unless … Ryan, something terrible has happened to her, I just know it.”

  6

  “All right,” Ryan said as he cleared his throat. “Let’s not panic. There’s got to be a reasonable explanation.”

  “There’s an explanation all right, but I’m not sure how reasonable it is. No one can be in two places at once. Either Gram’s been home or she’s still in Canada.” Jennie picked up her diet cola and pulled the tab.

  “Maybe she got as far as Lincoln City and had to go back.”

  “Without calling us? No way.” Jennie flopped down on her bed and turned over on her stomach. “Besides, she told your mom she’d be in Canada a few more days.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I’m really scared, Ryan. What if Gram is in trouble? What if she’s been kidnapped or something?”

  “Tell you what. I’ll make a run into town tomorrow. Maybe someone saw Gram at the post office when she mailed your letter. Could be that the letter was misplaced for a while. Maybe she sent it before she left for Canada.”

  “I can’t stand this.” Jennie jerked to her feet and paced. “I should be there. I could look around the house—see if anything is missing. I could talk to her friends …”

  “There’s no need. Sheriff Taylor and his deputy came by this afternoon asking questions about Gram. Kate must have asked them to check things out.”

  “Did they find anything?”

  “Nope. They figure she’s still up north. I think they’ll keep checking though—you know how Sheriff Taylor feels about your grandmother.”

  “I know.” The sheriff and Gram had been good friends since she moved there. Jennie took a long drink and sighed. “What did they say about the answering machine?”

  “I didn’t tell them.”

  “Ryan, it might be important!”

  “Sorry. You’re right, that was a dumb move. I’ll call them tomorrow, but I doubt it will make any difference. Should I tell them about the letter she sent you?”

  “No,” Jennie heard herself saying. “Gram sent me that note for a reason, and I don’t want anyone to see it until I figure out what she’s trying to tell me.”

  “Maybe she just doesn’t want anyone to know where she is. She could have sent the note, then called us to confuse everyone.”

  A glimmer of light emerged from Jennie’s dark, swirling thoughts. “No. For some reason she wants everyone to think she’s still in Canada. But at the same time she must have wanted me to know where she really was. Do you think she wrote to me so we wouldn’t be worried?”

  “I don’t know. This is like something out of a spy movie.”

  “I know. It sounds far out, but do you think she could be working undercover with the police or something? She was a detective before she retired.”

  They talked more about the possibility, and for the first time in two days Jennie began to relax. “If Gram is working on a case, maybe we’d better not do any investigating on our own.” Jennie thought about the note Gram had written. “Maybe she’s telling us not to interfere unless something happens.”

  “So you don’t want me to talk to the sheriff about the answering machine, or check out the post office?”

  “I guess not. Not yet anyway. If she is working on a case, I don’t want to mess her up. Like my mom always says, ‘Things have a way of working themselves out if you give them enough time.’ Be sure to call me if you hear anything.”

  After hanging up, Jennie stripped and slithered into a flannel nightgown. When she’d gotten ready for bed, she tiptoed down the hall and peered over the railing into the living room. Michael was still there. The two of them were huddled on the sofa watching television. An ache started in Jennie’s stomach and worked its way upward.

  Mom’s singing and the smell of bacon and cinnamon rolls greeted Jennie the next morning when she came down for breakfast. The sun poured into the kitchen, chasing away the shadows. Jennie tore off a piece of the warm sticky roll and stuffed it in her mouth. “Hmmm. These are great, Mom. What’s the occasion?”

  “I felt domestic this morning,” she said, hugging Jennie. “And Michael’s coming over for breakfast later.” Before Jennie could reply, Mom changed the subject. “I’m glad you’re up early. I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you alone.”

  Jennie slathered butter and syrup over her pancakes and crammed a forkful into her mouth.

  “I know my dating Michael is difficult for you to accept, but now that you’ve gotten to know him a little, what do you think?”

  I think he’s a jerk. Because she wasn’t in the mood to argue and because she wanted to live through breakfast, Jennie said, “He’s okay, I guess. He has a nice car.”

  Mom must not have been listening because she said, “That’s good.” She sighed and gave Jennie a kind of dreamy look. “Last night he asked me to marry him.”

  Jennie choked on her pancake. When she was finally able to breathe again, she gasped, “M-marry him? What did you tell him?”

  “I said I’d think about it.” Mom calmly sat down next to Jennie and took a sip of her coffee.

  “I can’t believe you’d tell him that. You can’t get married. You’re still married to Dad.” He hadn’t been declared officially dead and wouldn’t be for two more years.

  Mom either didn’t hear her or didn’t want to. She rubbed her thumb over the teddy bears on her mug. �
��I’m so torn.” She got up and poured herself another cup and sat down again. “I … I’m tired of waiting, Jennie. Gloria, my counselor, says I need to stop ‘chasing ghosts …’” Seeing the frown on Jennie’s face, she stopped to explain. “Gloria says I need to bury the past and get on with my life.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I loved your dad, honey. But Michael is sweet and caring. I just don’t know what to do.”

  Jennie didn’t know what to do either—or say. Everything had been going fine until her mother started seeing that counselor. Gloria was making a mess of things for everybody. “You know how you’re always telling me not to rush into things. Maybe you should wait awhile. I mean … we don’t even know him.”

  “I’m not exactly rushing. Michael and I have been seeing each other for nearly two months.” She paused at Jennie’s raised eyebrows and smiled. “I guess that’s not very long, is it? It just seems like we’ve known each other forever.

  “Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, we realized our relationship had grown beyond the friendship stage. I’d been so lonely, and Michael makes me feel … I don’t know, alive.”

  Does that mean Nick and I made you feel dead? Jennie had been lonely too, but she wasn’t about to go out and find a substitute father.

  “I wanted you to meet him earlier,” Mom went on, “but I kept putting it off. I guess I was afraid of having to deal with everyone’s reaction. Gloria got after me for that. Said I needed to be honest—with you—with the whole family. I should have told you about Michael right away, I am sorry. I’ve handled this badly.”

  Jennie didn’t know what to say, so she concentrated on her food.

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference, would it, Jennie? You’d still be upset.”

  She was right about that, but Jennie didn’t answer. Instead, she pushed away from the table and headed for the door.

  “Come back here! You haven’t finished breakfast. And I’m not finished talking.”

  “I’m not hungry. I’ve heard enough.”