Lock, Stock, and Over a Barrel

by Melody Carlson

  “And Aunt Dee is not really your sister, Dad.”

  “What?” His tone grew even more impatient. “That’s completely ridiculous. Where on earth does Jake McPheeters get off telling you—”

  “Calm down, Dad.” She took in another deep breath. “As you know, Aunt Dee started college back in 1938 when—”

  “Yes, yes, I know about all that. Although it was highly unusual. Most women didn’t further their education back then, and besides that, it was still the Great Depression. Even so, what’s that got to do with this strange claim that we’re not related to Dee?”

  “I didn’t say we’re not related, Dad. If you’d just let me finish.”

  “Sorry.” He leaned back, stroking Ethel a bit vigorously. “Go ahead, I’m very curious to hear this—even if it is poppycock.”

  “So anyway Aunt Dee went to college, but after a while, well the truth of the matter is, Aunt Dee became pregnant and—”

  “What?” He stood now, causing poor Ethel to leap down to the floor for safety. “What in tarnation are you saying, Daphne? Aunt Dee never—”

  “Dad.” She pointed a warning finger. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

  He huffed and puffed, then sat back down, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Yes, yes, go on. I just can’t believe you’re saying such things about your dear old aunt, who’s only been laid to rest a few days.”

  “I’m sorry. As I was saying, Aunt Dee became pregnant and she had a baby boy the following September in 1941 and—”

  “September? 1941?” He stood again. “Why, that’s when I was born.”

  “I know, Dad. Aunt Dee was not really your sister, she was your mother.”

  A look of stunned realization flashed through his eyes as his hand slapped over his mouth and he sunk back down onto the sofa.

  “I’m sorry to break it to you like this. I had planned all these careful ways to tell you. But it seems there really isn’t a good way to say something like this.” She gently pushed Lucy off her lap and went to sit by her dad. “Are you okay?”

  Staring blankly across the room, he slowly shook his head. “Dee wasn’t my sister? She was my mother?”

  “It actually explains a lot,” she said quietly. “Aunt Dee loved you so much. And me too. She always gave us a lot more attention than the rest of the family. I thought it was because Mom died. But now I realize it’s because she was really your mother. My grandmother.”

  “Dee was not my sister. She was my mother,” he repeated again, obviously trying to absorb this.

  “That’s right.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “How does that make you feel?”

  “Stunned.”

  “I know how you feel. I was stunned too. I’m sure that, back then, it seemed the right thing for her to do. She wasn’t married. She probably felt that having her parents raise you as their son was the kindest way for you to grow up.”

  He just nodded. “I sometimes wondered that my parents were rather old. I know I was considered a change-of-life baby. But I never guessed Dee was my mother. Never in a million years.”

  “She took great care to see that you didn’t. I’m sure she wanted to protect you.”

  “I’ll bet that’s why she moved back home after college,” he said slowly, as if soaking it in. “Being so young, I took her presence in my life for granted at the time. But later on I remember hearing how she was such a great author, and we all knew she was making such good money writing all those textbooks and manuals. People said she could’ve lived anywhere. But she chose to remain in little old Appleton.”

  “To be near you.”

  “And you too,” he pointed out. “Dee was always there when I needed her too. She attended just about every single event I ever participated in—even more so than my parents . . . rather, my grandparents.” He scratched his head. “That’ll take some getting used to.”

  “I know. I still think of her as Aunt Dee. Not Grandma.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t matter what we call her.”

  “I don’t think so. As long as we still love her. You do, don’t you, Dad?”

  “Oh yes.” He nodded eagerly. “Maybe even more now. When I think of what she sacrificed for me . . . I never knew.”

  “Do you think that’s why she never married?”

  “I have no idea. But this was obviously a secret she took to the grave.” Dad looked at her. “Why did Jake tell you about it now?”

  “Because of the inheritance, I think. It sort of helps to explain why no one else in the family was in her will.”

  “Are you going to tell the others about this?”

  She shrugged. “What do you think?”

  “Well, I feel bad that the relatives are acting like it’s unfair she excluded them. If they knew you were her only granddaughter, they might be more understanding.” He rubbed his chin. “But at the same time I’d like to protect Dee’s image. Especially considering how well she concealed this for all those years. It seems respectful to keep a lid on this—for her sake.”

  “I know.”

  “So, if you don’t mind having your relatives treating you poorly for a while—because I’m sure they’ll get past it in time—I would just as soon let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “So would I.” She was willing to bury it down there with all the other secrets she was holding for Aunt Dee. Oh, sure, her life might’ve been easier if the relatives understood the situation better. But she could do this—for Dad and Aunt Dee.

  Chapter 12

  As much as Daphne longed for a confidante, especially after Beverly had cut their last conversation short then never called back, she knew she couldn’t burden Olivia with her numerous secrets. For one thing, it’d been years since they’d been close friends. Besides that, well, she just couldn’t. Daphne was not in the habit of sharing—and old habits really did die hard.

  However, she did enjoy Olivia’s cheerful companionship as they shopped at a couple of stores in Appleton and later drove over to nearby Fairview to check out a recently built outdoor mall. “Can you imagine how much fun we would’ve had shopping here as teens?” Olivia asked as they walked around The Fairview Shoppes.

  “I can’t believe how much has changed since I moved away,” Daphne said as Olivia led her through one of her favorite boutiques, piling an interesting assortment of clothing into Daphne’s arms before she led her back to the changing area.

  “I would never wear something like this in New York,” Daphne confessed as she emerged from the dressing room wearing a Bohemian-looking skirt and lacy top Olivia had insisted was perfect for an author to wear.

  “You don’t like it?”

  Daphne studied the bright-colored skirt. “No, I actually do like it, but it’s such a departure from my usual serious clothes.”

  Olivia chuckled. “Yes, that describes what I’ve seen you wearing. Very serious. At first I thought it was only because your aunt died. But then I realized it’s just how you dress. I mean, I’m not criticizing. It’s a very classic and dignified look and it probably fits your job. But it doesn’t seem very easy going, you know? Not very creative.”

  “I have two basic modes of dress in New York. My business go-to-work outfits and my slacker weekend wear, ratty clothes that I do not want to be seen in.”

  “What about fun clothes?” Olivia asked. “Like for nights on the town? I figured New Yorkers usually dressed to the nines, went out clubbing or to shows, basically having all kinds of fun.”

  “I think Sarah Jessica Parker helped to create that illusion.”

  “Illusion—you’re saying that’s an illusion?” Olivia looked disappointed. “But come on, Daphne, what’d you wear on dates? Certainly not your no-nonsense black suit.”

  Daphne frowned. Perhaps this was a secret she could safely divulge, even if it did re
veal more than she was quite comfortable with regarding her unimpressive personal life. Really, why should Olivia be surprised?

  “The truth is, I rarely dated.” Daphne went back into the oversized changing room, ready to try on something else. But to her surprise, Olivia, with a number of accessories in hand, had followed her in. Now they both stood in front of the big mirror, but Olivia’s expression was decidedly skeptical.

  “Seriously, that is not at all how I imagined your life.” Olivia held up a pendant, then shook her head as if dismissing it.

  “But you’ve known me for years. I was never what you’d call a social butterfly.”

  “Yeah, but that was long ago—maybe you were kind of like a shy caterpillar back then, but you blossomed into this gorgeous butterfly. Honestly, I’d have expected men would’ve been beating a path to your door back in New York.”

  Daphne laughed. “Thanks for the compliment, but I can assure you there are a lot of gorgeous women in New York. I didn’t stand out one bit.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” Olivia eyes narrowed slightly. “Seriously, are you telling me you never dated at all?”

  “Well, sure, I dated for a while. I’d only been in New York a couple of years when I got into this fairly serious relationship.”

  “Aha.” Olivia nodded. “I knew it.”

  “But it turned out to be an unhealthy sort of relationship. One that hurt me . . . pretty deeply. And it’s taken a long time to recover.” Assuming she was recovered. Most of the time she thought she was, but sometimes she still felt frustrated at her overly cautious reaction to men. She was always second-guessing their intentions . . . and herself.

  “Oh.” Olivia held another necklace up to the lacy top. “But you remember what they say about falling off the horse?”

  Daphne shrugged. “Yes. I know. But for some reason, I got stuck in a rut.”

  Olivia held up the third necklace and frowned. “I always figured you’d be the one to get married and settle down first.”

  “Why?”

  “You were such a homebody. You loved cooking and cleaning and all that homemaking stuff.”

  “That’s because it was expected of me. I mean after my mom died.” Daphne tried the wide belt the salesgirl had recommended and cinched it tightly around her waist.

  “No, no, loosen it up,” Olivia told her. “Like this.” She let the belt out so it slid down more comfortably. “Much better.”

  “Yes.” Daphne nodded as she looked at the strange image in the mirror. “I actually kind of like this.”

  “Enough to wear it sometime?” Olivia tilted her head to one side. “Or will you hide it away in your closet?”

  Daphne grinned. “After all these years, you still know me.”

  Olivia laughed. “Yeah, you were always a bit of a stick in the mud.”

  Daphne frowned. “A stick in the mud?”

  “I’m sorry. That was a little harsh. I just mean you were always the careful one. You never partied with the rest of us. You never skipped school. Not even on senior skip day.”

  “I heard that we couldn’t graduate if we skipped.” Daphne sighed. “But that didn’t seem to bother anyone else. Everyone graduated just fine.”

  “So did you ever feel like you were missing out?”

  “A little.” Daphne considered how much she wanted to divulge. She was so accustomed to keeping things to herself. But realizing how many of Aunt Dee’s secrets she couldn’t disclose, maybe it was about time to be more open about other parts of her life.

  “I always felt this need to be extra careful,” she explained as she fiddled with the neck of the cream-colored lacy top. “Because after my mom died, my dad used to say I was all he had. He’d say things like I needed to take good care of myself—for him. So it kind of got ingrained in me, like I needed to be really cautious. Does that make sense? Like I’ve been stuck.”

  “Yeah. I do get that.” Olivia slipped the beaded necklace over Daphne’s head, then stepped back. “Now that is perfect.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And I think you should get this outfit. Maybe it’ll help you to get unstuck.”

  Daphne couldn’t argue with that and soon purchased the whole thing, including the belt and necklace. She made numerous other purchases too and, finally laden down with a number of other bags—containing jeans and cargo pants and T-shirts and other casual yet stylish pieces of clothing—they decided to take a break at Starbucks. After they were seated with coffees and scones, Olivia brought up the topic of Daphne’s cautious way of living again.

  “So now I understand why you’ve been so careful in the past. But do you ever worry that you might continue standing on the sidelines while life passes you by?”

  Daphne nodded as she set down her coffee mug. “Just recently, and even before my aunt died, I was giving my boring little life some serious thought. And then after I got here, I felt this sudden urgency to shake things up. I wasn’t even sure how. And I had no idea that Aunt Dee was going to be so, uh, so generous. But it felt like an invitation to change.”

  “I know. Not only that gorgeous house but her fabulous car too. You’re one lucky girl, Daphne.” She smiled. “Your aunt must’ve really loved you.”

  Daphne just nodded, suppressing the urge to blurt out that Dee was actually her grandmother or to mention the strings attached to her aunt’s generosity. But she couldn’t. “Anyway, it was like I was ready. I wanted to make this change. I was ready to give up my job and New York. I feel like I’m finally ready to take some real chances.”

  “Writing a novel sounds like taking a chance.”

  “Yes . . . putting my words out there for everyone to see—and without the safety net of a newspaper beneath me. I guess I should prepare myself for some rejection. And I’ve never been very fond of rejection.”

  “Who is?”

  There was a comfortable pause while they both sipped their coffees. “Thanks for coming with me today.” Daphne wanted to say more than that but wasn’t quite sure how to. “It means a lot to know I’ve still got friends in Appleton.”

  “It means a lot to me that you’re moving back. I’m looking forward to spending more time together. And I hope you’ll let me help you with some of the updating you plan to do on your house. I can just see you incorporating some shabby chic into it. And there’s this great little shop called Sister Suzy that I’m dying to show you. She’s like a shabby-chic diva. And her shop has a little bit of everything in it.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “I mean if I can’t spend my own money—because Jeff and I are saving for a down payment right now—I’m always eager to spend someone else’s. And Pottery Barn is right next to Sister Suzy, and there are a couple other home stores down on that end of the mall.”

  Daphne considered how much she’d already spent today. “Well, I might have to content myself with just looking for now.” She made a sheepish smile. “Sorry, but I can’t give up all my cautious ways in just one day. Besides, I still have things in New York. Although I think I’ll try to get rid of most of it.”

  “I think it’s smart to just look at first anyway,” Olivia told her. “That way you figure out what you like and avoid making impulse buys. Then you make a plan and you stick to it.”

  “Right. And I should get some paint colors too. Aunt Dee already picked out exterior paint, which I want to use, but I have no idea of where to begin for the interior paint colors. Maybe I should just paint it all off-white.”

  Olivia shook her head. “That would be so stark, you’d want to repaint it. Why waste the time and money?”

  “Maybe I should just leave it as is.” Daphne was thinking about how quickly a year could pass. Maybe it was foolish to make changes to the house.

  “But if it needs doing,” Olivia said, “why not enjoy it? You
can put your mark on it and make it your own. And if you want any help with colors, you know I’d be happy to give an opinion. I love working with color combinations.”

  “Thanks. I can tell by looking at your shop that you have a good eye for it.”

  “Well, some of that was Bernadette’s doing. She had a really good eye. But I’ve made some good changes too . . . even if I do say so myself. And if you need the name of a painter, we’ve got a neighbor who’s a painting contractor and he’s rock-solid reliable.” Her brows arched. “And come to think of it, he’s recently become single.”

  Daphne laughed. “Honestly, it feels like everyone is working on getting me married.”

  “Sorry. I always hated it when people did that to me, and I promised myself I’d never be like that. But something happens when you get married. You suddenly think that everyone else should be as happy as you are.”

  “Well, it’s nice you’re happy . . .”

  “Anyway, now that I think about it, Willie’s probably too old for you anyway. I think he’s close to fifty. I mean, he’s young for his age, but that’s quite an age gap.” Olivia broke off a piece of scone. “So tell me, who else is trying to get you married off?”

  Again, Daphne had to watch her words. “Mostly my dad. I think he’s worried he’ll never be a grandfather.”

  “Who’s he matching you up with?”

  Daphne sighed. “Ricardo Martoni. For some reason Dad’s got the crazy notion that we’d be perfect for each other.”

  “You could do worse.” Olivia looked slightly offended.

  “Oh yeah, I know that for sure. Ricardo is a great guy.”

  “But you’re just not into him?” Olivia frowned.

  “I’m not saying that at all. It’s just that Dad’s been pushing him at me. And when I heard about Bernadette and Ricardo . . . well, I wondered if he’s even over her yet.”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t really dated since then.”

  “And as you pointed out the other night, that waitress seems to have her eye on him.”

  “Kellie is so not his type.”