The Secrets Sisters Keep

by Abby Drake

  “We’re fine,” she said. “We’re all fine.” Then she put her arm around him and realized, for the first time, how much smaller he’d become, how his once muscular back and arms had thinned with age. “I even think Carleen is fine in her own way.” Then Ellie guided Edward up the dock and toward the lawn and the house where they’d lived for far too long.

  Two people were missing from the table—Carleen and Wes.

  Ellie wondered if the family had had a meal in toto since the weekend had started and decided, no, they hadn’t. Still, it was nice to see everyone seated, dressed in virginal white except Jonathan and Heather’s boyfriend. Babe was there—Amanda whispered to Ellie that she must have packed her white dress in her suitcase because she’d seen her leave the house before bedtime.

  Henry also wore white, though he hadn’t been invited to join in the picture.

  So far, no one had noticed that Ellie had disobeyed instructions by tying her hair in a small ponytail and wrapping it in the pink ribbon Carleen had said had belonged to their mother. She would tell the others after the photograph was taken. Until then, it would remain her special secret. Hell, if Edward Dalton could have secrets, so could she.

  She passed the platter of strawberry blintzes and silently hoped no one spilled fruit on their white.

  Edward did most of the talking, directing his chatter toward the children, as if he was determined not to acknowledge that two people were missing or to admit the fact that, without Carleen, most of the tension had abated.

  Amanda, good Lord, was actually smiling. Not huge, OhMyGod-I-am-so-happy smiles, but little lifts at the corners of her coral-lipsticked mouth that hinted at lighthearted amusement. She even aimed one or two smiles at her husband, which Ellie thought was puzzling, under the back-waxing circumstances.

  Babe, too, seemed to exude an aura of well-being that even Edward apparently noticed, because halfway through his wedge of melon he turned his attention to her. “You look especially lovely this morning, my dear.” He did not include Ellie or Amanda in his comment, and Amanda did not seem to care.

  “I spent the night at Ray’s,” Babe explained without flinching. “As you can see, my husband isn’t here. It was my idea for him to leave. But when I was returning from Ray’s early this morning, I saw a cab out on the street. Wes got in. Along with Carleen.” She sipped a mimosa, then added, “I must admit, that was a surprise. I thought Carleen had changed.”

  “I doubt they ran off together,” Ellie interjected. “I think Wes simply saw a chance to hitch a ride.”

  Then Babe said yes, she supposed that was possible.

  Amanda asked Babe if she and Wes were divorcing and Babe said yes, without a doubt.

  Heather asked if she and Shotgun should still look him up when they went to California. “He promised Shotgun he’d introduce him around,” she added, ignoring the quick, surprised movement of her mother’s eyebrows.

  “Do what you want,” Babe said. “But the man is self-centered, so I doubt he’ll remember. If you really want to go, I can give you names, and I can make some calls on your behalf. But I am staying here.” It was the first time those assembled had heard such a notion. “Well,” she continued. “Not here, in this house. I’ll be at Ray’s. Until we decide what to do next.”

  Ellie passed the four-cheese frittata and thought it was ironic that Babe was vying to live at Lake Kasteel, while Ellie had finally garnered the courage to get out.

  Then a cell phone rang. Edward’s eyes narrowed, because he detested what he referred to as satanic technology, cell phones, computers, anything that required a charger or a wireless card.

  “It’s mine,” Babe said, standing up and pulling the phone from her pocket. “Sorry. It must be Ray.” Then she looked at the caller ID and scowled. “Oh, no. It isn’t Ray. It’s my agent.”

  ***

  “Will she really stay here?” Heather asked once Babe had excused herself and left the room to take her call. “I mean, geez, what about her career?”

  “When was the last time she starred in a film?” Chandler interrupted with his nose in the air the way Amanda had once promoted but suddenly detested. “I bet no one wants her for those romantic comedy things anymore. She’s too old.”

  Amanda rubbed the irritation that tingled in her neck. She supposed her children were waiting for her to agree. Instead she said, “Chandler, for starters, you need to show some respect. Babe is your aunt. She is your elder.”

  Chandler gawked at his mother as if she were a stranger.

  “Her career,” Amanda continued, “or what she does with her life is none of your business. We should all be supportive and hope that she’ll be happy. And I, for one, will be delighted to have her back on the East Coast.”

  Everyone else’s eyes had shifted from Chandler to her.

  “Besides,” she added, “haven’t you heard that money is the root of all evil?”

  The feedback from the group was pretty funny, especially since no one spoke.

  Amanda turned to her husband. “Jonathan? Would you please tell everyone the rest?”

  Jonathan cleared his throat and slid his arm on the back of Amanda’s chair. “We’ve decided to make some pretty major changes. As a family. We’ve decided to sell the brownstone and move to Vermont.”

  Chandler dropped his fork onto his blintz.

  Heather was mute.

  Chase said, “Cool.”

  Jonathan put his elbows on the table and tented his fingers. “We’re going to get back to basics. Burlington is a wonderful town. It’s where I grew up; I still have friends there. I think the town can use a decent architect.”

  Chandler laughed. “For what? Designing cow barns?”

  “Chandler,” Amanda scolded.

  When the boy snorted he sounded just like his mother, which did not please her. “Right,” he said. “Well, it won’t really involve me, anyway. I have one year left at Choate. Then I’ll be off to Princeton or somewhere. It’s not as if I’ll actually ever have to live in Vermont.”

  “Oh, but you will,” Jonathan said. “Neither you nor your brother will be going back to Choate. You’ll attend public school. As for college, you’d better start thinking about scholarships and financial aid.”

  The boy turned as white as his shirt. “Financial aid? Like a loan?”

  Amanda felt sorry for him. She had trained him so thoroughly to be such a boor. It would take time to untangle the knots.

  “Yes, Chandler,” Jonathan said firmly. “You’ll be amazed, but it won’t kill you. We’ll talk about the details later, but for now, we wanted everyone to know. The truth is, we’ve run into some financial difficulties, but we’ll work them out. Frankly, we think we’ll enjoy our new life.” He reached into Amanda’s lap and took her hand. She’d never felt more proud of him. He wasn’t perfect, but as it turned out, neither was she.

  Chandler leaped to his feet. “You’re nuts! Financial difficulties? What the hell does that mean? Uncle Edward will help us!” He flipped his focus to Edward. “You’ll help us, won’t you? Before my parents do something crazy?”

  Edward looked at Amanda, who shook her head. “No, my boy,” he said, “I don’t think your family needs my money.”

  Amanda smiled and squeezed Jonathan’s hand. Gratefully, he squeezed back.

  Then Babe returned to the dining room, her face flushed, her blue eyes glazed with tears.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  “Well,” Babe said, “we’re all over the Post.”

  Edward pummeled his napkin onto his plate. “Crap. I was hoping this could wait until after the photo.”

  So much for a peaceful family gathering.

  Ellie closed her eyes, wondering what he’d been up to now. “You were hoping what could wait?”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now. Carleen is gone and you know about the Post and Ellie, you’re wearing that godforsaken ribbon. Everything is ruined. Henry, call the photographer and cancel the goddamn shoot
.”

  Before Ellie could respond, Babe interrupted with an uncharacteristic snap. “Uncle Edward? What do you know about this?”

  Edward sighed a long, slow sigh, as if he were releasing decades of anguish, a gusher of guilt. “For starters, Ray’s son, Kevin, buzzed me again this morning on the walkie-talkie he gave me in case I needed anything when I was sequestered on Squirrel Island. He’s a nice boy. Considerate.” He leveled his eyes on Chandler. “A young man you might take a lesson from.” Then Edward looked back to the group. “Kevin delivers the Post as well as the Times. He told me that the newspaper has pictures from yesterday. Pictures of the party, of Wes, of all you girls. Babe, they even have one of you down at the boathouse with Ray.”

  “Apparently it made page six,” Babe said, more quietly now. “I was kissing a man who isn’t my husband. It’s generated three film offers already. My agent is ecstatic.”

  “And you?” Amanda asked.

  Babe shook her head. “I told her to turn them down. I am finished with Hollywood. I honestly am.”

  Silence sprinkled like salt around the table.

  “Unfortunately, it’s more than pictures,” Edward continued. “They rehashed our story. They couldn’t stand to leave it alone. To leave us alone.”

  That’s when Edward’s eyes teared up.

  Chandler and Chase squirmed in their chairs.

  Ellie got up and went to Edward. She touched one shoulder; Babe joined her and touched the other.

  “It’s all my fault,” Babe said. “That damn husband of mine . . . I knew this might be trouble, but I stupidly thought it would be okay. . . .”

  Edward shook his head, shook them away. “Oh, sit down, both of you. Wait until you hear the whole bloody story before anyone takes credit for being at fault.”

  So Ellie and Babe returned to their seats, and Edward wiped his tears, and they waited for Henry to fetch more tea from the kitchen so they could hear the things they didn’t know.

  “First of all,” Edward said, once new tea was poured and all had leaned forward, enrapt. “I need you to be quiet and listen. There will be no comments, no conversation, and, God help us, no crying. Everyone here is a grown-up, except maybe Chase, but he’s close enough to being a man to handle adult things, aren’t you, boy?”

  Chase nodded vigorously, as if he’d just been handed a pass from the kids’ table at Thanksgiving.

  “Good, Edward said. “Then it won’t scare you when I say that I have cancer.”

  Babe expelled a tiny moan, then silence fell again.

  Ellie touched her heart. So it was true. She didn’t dare look at Amanda.

  “Are you going to die?” Chase asked.

  “Well, my boy, I thought that was what I wanted. But now I realize that would be pretty selfish. I have to admit I’ve enjoyed this weekend, even though I know I haven’t been around for most of it. Anyway, seeing all of you has helped me rearrange my thoughts.”

  Chase was enthralled; he nodded but didn’t speak.

  “They tell me if I have chemo I’ll probably be fine,” Edward continued. “At first I thought no, I was ready to die. I’ve carried a bucketload of manure around all these years, and it would be a damn comfort to finally be done with it. But now—let’s say I’ve decided that rather than die, I might as well get it out in the open.”

  They watched.

  They listened.

  “I’m going to sell this place,” Edward said. “It’s time to come out of the closet, so to speak. Henry and I will move into the city for a year or so, while I’m having treatment. I’ll take a suite at the Waldorf and live like a senile old man. When that’s done, I’ll move to London. I want to live where I was once happiest. I want to be surrounded by wonderful theater and memories that give me so much pleasure. Maybe I’ll stay there until I croak, who knows. But it’s something I really want to do, and not one of you is going to stop me.”

  He pushed back in his chair and folded his arms. “The house and the land will bring in a bundle. I’m going to divide it equally between my nieces, between those here at the table and the one who’s missing. Before you go off on Carleen, there’s more to the story. Give me a minute, because this is the hard part.”

  “Wait,” Ellie said. “I have a question. Will Henry go with you to London?”

  Edward blinked. “Why, yes. If he can still stand me. If he doesn’t try forcing me into marriage. I’m just not the marrying kind.”

  She shifted in her chair. “If he is with you, you won’t disappear?” She looked at Henry. “Forgive me. But I’ve recently learned that there might have been a problem with your past lovers.”

  Henry looked at Edward. Edward laughed. “Where’d you hear that? From old Goldsmith?”

  Then Henry laughed, too.

  “I made that story up years ago,” Edward said. “I wanted to stop the gossip about the ‘great love of my life.’ Henry was willing to become the patsy—pardon the expression. I ended up with the life I needed, plus a great companion who didn’t care if I walked away from Broadway or ever threw another damn party. I’d grown so tired of it all.”

  So. Henry wasn’t an assassin.

  Then Edward stopped laughing. He stood up, wandered to the window, and looked pensively toward the lake. “Which actually brings up the next part of my story. The great love in my life. That wasn’t gossip. It was true. She was my great love. And she was your mother.”

  Outside, a gentle breeze stirred the fat peonies. A whisper of a hummingbird paused at the window, as if he were an interested spirit. Ellie didn’t look at either of her sisters, but she’d bet they were thinking the same thing: Uncle Edward’s great love had been their mother?

  It seemed preposterous.

  “It was futile, of course,” Edward continued. “She was married to my brother. How could I tell my brother I was in love with his wife? But Mazie and I had a wonderful romance, short-lived though it was. I was with her in London. She is the only one—man or woman—who completely, totally, ever stole my heart. Henry understands this.”

  He sighed again, then finally turned around. He knew his tears were visible, but he made no comment about them.

  “She had to return to Robert. She already had Ellie and Amanda-Belle and Carleen to look after. We never dreamed our love would give us you, Babe. We never dreamed we would create such a beautiful child.”

  That time, Amanda gasped.

  “I had my asinine career; she had her family. She traded our life to be a good mother. We never slept together after London. To my knowledge, Mazie only slept with my brother.” His voice cracked as if the thought still caused him pain. “I do know I never slept with another woman. I am a gay man. Mazie was my only exception. At the time we didn’t understand why.”

  “So,” Ellie asked, “you’re Babe’s biological father?”

  “I said no talking!”

  Ellie bolted up. “That’s not fair! Are you or aren’t you Babe’s father?”

  He lowered his head. “I believe I am, yes.”

  All eyes rolled toward Babe, who sat with her lovely mouth hanging open.

  “I have come to believe that God wanted the world to have Babe,” he continued. “And so he created the deep love between Mazie and me.”

  The silence at the table rested quietly now. Then Ellie said, “One more thing, Uncle Edward. Did Henry stop Mother from getting a divorce?”

  Henry stood up. “I tried talking to her, because I, too, loved Edward, and I, too, wanted him. But it didn’t matter. Mazie didn’t want a divorce. She didn’t want to tear her family apart.”

  Ellie looked at Edward, who didn’t refute the remark. She sat back down.

  “I know this must be confusing,” Edward said, “but there’s more to the story. And it involves Carleen.”

  Henry, too, returned to his chair, and Edward’s audience waited.

  “She knew,” Edward said. “She found the love letters I had written to your mother. Dear Mazie told me she was going to tie them
in a pink ribbon and keep them forever; she could be such a silly, wistful girl.” He uttered a small, sad sound, then returned to the head of the table and sat down. “The day Carleen went looking for her birth certificate, she found the letters in the attic. Ellie, I believe you’re wearing the ribbon that tied them up.”

  Ellie’s hand flew up to her ponytail. The others stared at her.

  “Carleen didn’t burn old school records in the fireplace,” Edward said. “She burned the stack of letters. She was trying to save your mother from disgrace. She was trying to keep the family together. She never told anyone that those letters were what caused the fire and your parents’ deaths.”

  Both Ellie and Amanda moved their hands to their mouths. Babe started to cry.

  “Holy shit,” Chase said, “this is unreal.”

  “No,” Edward added, “it’s very real. When Carleen wore the pink ribbon on the witness stand, I was suspicious. I was never sure, though, until I saw her today. When I asked, all she would say was that she knew everything. I guess she decided not to tell any of you. She’s still protecting your mother—and all of you—after the lousy way we’ve treated her.”

  They puzzled over his words, then Amanda stood up. “Come on, girls,” she said with sober conviction. “We have to find our sister. Before she gets away.”

  She was in Port Authority, buying a bagel with a schmear at Einstein’s.

  “We know what happened,” Amanda said. “We know about Mother and Uncle Edward.”

  The four women moved quietly through the thin Sunday crowd, up to a bookstore, where they sat—three women in virginal white, the other one, Carleen.

  By the time they were finished talking, they all were crying, especially Babe.

  “Does this mean I’m not really your sister?” Babe asked. “I mean, I’m really your half sister. What does that mean?”

  Before they could tell her to stop being a goof, a young woman approached with a long-lensed Nikon. “Babe!” she shouted. “Can you turn this way?”