Secret Lives

by Diane Chamberlain

  “Are you one hundred percent certain he's innocent?” Nina asked.

  Eden hesitated just long enough to let herself know that, no, she was no longer one hundred percent certain.

  “Because if you're not, Eden,” Nina said, “you can't take that kind of risk with Cassie.”

  Cassie was with him. Eden looked at her watch and saw that her hand was trembling. Right this minute he'd be putting her to bed. She let out a small, audible gasp.

  Michael leaned toward her. “You've lost your objectivity, Eden.”

  “You're in love with him.” Nina put her hand on Eden's shoulder. “You've slept with him. So you had to make him innocent in your own mind.”

  “Right,” Michael said. “You had to justify your feelings somehow.”

  “And it's one thing for you to be involved with him.” Nina was so close that Eden smelled the alcohol on her breath. “It's entirely another for you to involve your daughter.”

  “Cassie's with him right now,” Eden said.

  Michael leaned back so suddenly she jumped. “You left this guy”—he held up the stack of papers—”with your four-year-old daughter?”

  “He cares about her,” she said. “I know he does.”

  “I'm sure he cared about his own daughter, too.” Michael leafed through the articles and then read her a quote from a psychiatrist. “Men like Ben Alexander can't help themselves. Their behavior is out of their control. Even with treatment, the prognosis isn't good. Those men who are aware of their problem will struggle to keep themselves out of trouble by avoiding temptation whenever possible, but it's often a losing battle.”

  She thought of Ben asking her to change Cassie into her pajamas before she left. Was he trying to avoid temptation? “Oh, God.” She reached for her purse. “I'd better go.”

  “One more thing, sweetie.” Nina grabbed her arm. “You have to rethink your decision on the Katherine Swift film.”

  “Christ, Nina.” Michael glowered at her. “Not now.”

  But Nina ignored him. “Bill Crispin's gearing up to do it and I hate to see that cretin make a mint off your idea.”

  “I can't do it, Nina.”

  Nina stood up and grabbed the check from the table. “Let me pay this and then we can all leave. Talk some sense into her, Michael.”

  Michael pulled his chair closer to Eden's and put his arm around her protectively. “Ignore her,” he said as Nina walked toward the cashier. “You don't need to think about the film right now.”

  She leaned against him. He smelled good. He smelled safe. “I found out something while I was doing the research, Michael.” She looked at him, felt his hand soft on her arm. “Don't tell this to a soul. Not Nina. Not anyone. I found out that my uncle—the one I'm staying with—is actually my father. He and my mother were cousins, but his parents adopted her, so they were raised as brother and sister. They were lovers.”

  Michael's eyes widened as her words began to make sense to him. “Katherine Swift had sex with her brother?”

  “Shh. Yes. How can I possibly write the screenplay knowing that?”

  Michael looked toward the front of Sugar Hill where Nina was paying the bill. “Leave it out,” he said. “Forget you know it. Write the screenplay with Matthew Riley as your father. No one will be any the wiser.”

  She looked at Michael. He had Matthew Riley's warm brown eyes, she was certain of it. “I miss you,” she said. “I miss my house and the ocean and L.A.”

  “Everybody misses you, Eden. Everybody's worried sick about you. Come home, please. I'll help you with the film.” He drew away from her as Nina returned to the table.

  “All set,” Nina said. “We're out of here.”

  Eden stood up. “I'll do the film, Nina,” she said. “Tell Crispin to find something else to sink his fangs into.”

  “Hurray!” Nina said, too loudly, and some of the diners looked up from their tables and stared.

  Michael walked her to her car. “Take this.” He handed her the manila folder through the window. “Read it when you start losing perspective.”

  She set it next to her on the seat and looked up at him.

  “If I call you tomorrow, will you speak to me?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He squeezed her shoulder, then let her go.

  The house was quiet when she reached Lynch Hollow. She forced herself to calmly turn on the kitchen light, calmly set her purse and the folder on the table. “Ben?”

  “In here.”

  He was in the living room working on a broken table lamp Kyle had been trying to repair. He looked up when she walked into the room. “How'd it go?”

  “All right. Is Cassie asleep?”

  “Yeah, just. After two stories, five glasses of water, and three kisses. Manipulative kid you've got there.”

  “I'll go check on her.”

  “Why don't you tell me what happened with Michael and Nina first?” He patted the sofa next to him.

  “I'll be back in a second.”

  She felt breathless, nauseated, as she sat on the edge of Cassie's bed. She watched her sleep in the light from the hallway until she could stand it no longer. “Cassie?” She shook her shoulder.

  Cassie rolled onto her back and opened her eyes.

  “Hi, baby,” Eden said.

  “You're supposed to be out.”

  “I just got home. Did you have fun tonight?”

  Cassie closed her eyes again and nodded and within seconds had fallen back to sleep. Eden lowered the sheet and studied Cassie's yellow shorty pajamas and long brown legs. What was she looking for? A mark? A clue? She covered her daughter again and walked downstairs.

  Ben was in the kitchen. He stood above the table, leafing through the articles Michael had given her. He looked up at her, his eyes very gray, very cool.

  “You woke her up,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you check her over real carefully, Eden? Because we child molesters are pretty sneaky. We know how to cover our tracks.”

  “Don't talk that way, Ben, please.”

  “Looks like you've got your reading cut out for you.” He nodded toward the articles.

  She shivered. “I'm mixed up, Ben. I don't know what to do. I love you, but…”

  “But what? Let me finish your sentence, all right? I love you, Ben, but I can't take the chance that you just might be guilty after all.” He stepped closer to her. “I could handle it if you said you loved me, but Wayne would get Cassie if you stayed with me. Or even, you love me, but it would ruin your career if you stayed with me. But I can't take your suspicions. You know me as well as I can let anyone know me and you're still not convinced, are you?” He grabbed her shoulders. “Are you?”

  “In my heart I am, Ben, but…”

  He let go of her and walked to the door. “I'll make it easy for you, Eden. It's over. That's what all this is leading up to, anyway, isn't it? If not today, then tomorrow or the next day. Because your suspicions are multiplying by the minute. I know how it works. Once you start doubting me, there's not a thing I can do or say that will make a difference.” He reached for the door, then turned to face her again, and this time his eyes were furious. “God damn you for trusting me as long as you did.”

  –43–

  She wanted to wait until morning to call him. She moved through the house, through the rooms, like a sleepwalker, watching the windows for the first hint of dawn. When it was still black out she sat down on Lou and Kyle's bed and stared at the phone. If Michael and Nina had not come, she and Ben would be in this bed right now. Maybe sleeping, maybe not. But she would be with him. She drew her knees up, hugging them with her arms. Her stomach ached from uncertainty and doubt, from not knowing, never being able to know, the truth about Ben. He had ended it last night. He'd made the decision for her, but he was right. If she had not found the strength to end their relationship last night, she would have today or tomorrow. She had to. She could not allow Cassie to be the victim of his past, or God fo
rbid, his present.

  Was he able to sleep tonight? Or was he lying awake wondering, as he used to, what he had to live for? Was he thinking about the Valium?

  She dialed the phone and clutched the receiver as it rang at his end. Five rings. Ten. Maybe she'd misdialed. She hung up, dialed again. If he didn't answer she would put Cassie in the car and drive up there. She would—

  “Hello.” His voice was flat and controlled. He was wide awake and he knew who was calling.

  “I just wanted to be sure you're all right.” She braced herself for his sarcasm or his wrath.

  “Thank you.” The sincerity in his voice started her tears again and for a moment she couldn't speak.

  “I'm sitting on Lou and Kyle's bed,” she said finally. “I wish you could be here next to me.”

  Another long silence stretched between them. She could hear a radio playing softly at his end. The oldies station, no doubt.

  “You should call Wayne tomorrow,” Ben said. “Save him the trouble of getting a lawyer.”

  “Ben, I want to see you.”

  “There's no point to it, Eden.”

  She shut her eyes. “I love you but I can't have you. Just like my mother.”

  “What do you mean, like your mother?”

  “Nothing. Ben, promise me you won't hurt yourself.”

  “If you think I'm so dishonest, why would you think I'd keep a promise?”

  “Ben…”

  “Go back to bed, Eden.” He hung up, so quietly that she thought he was still on the line, and it wasn't until she heard the dial tone that she hung up herself.

  Kyle and Lou returned the following day, and she waited until they'd unpacked and settled in the living room with the newspaper before telling them that she and Ben had split up. They didn't seem surprised, and she guessed her swollen eyes and red nose had given her away.

  She sat down on the hassock near Lou's chair and told them about the articles Michael had brought her. “I found myself doubting him,” she said. “How could I justify having him around Cassie if I'm not absolutely positive about him?”

  Lou nodded. “I'm sorry, dear.”

  “Is Ben all right?” Kyle asked.

  “I'm worried about him,” she said.

  Kyle looked at his watch. “I'll take a drive up there in a bit and see how he's doing.”

  Eden flattened her damp palms against her thighs. “Cassie and I have reservations to go back to L.A. next Monday,” she said. “We'll fly out of National.”

  Lou glanced at Kyle, who was toying with the lamp Ben had been working on. He turned the switch and light filled the shade.

  “Ben fixed it,” Eden said.

  “I can see that,” said Kyle.

  Eden licked her lips. “I've also decided to go back to work on the film,” she said. “Only I'm going to leave it with Matt Riley as my father.”

  Kyle switched the lamp off and turned it upside down to study the base.

  “Well,” Lou said. “You've made a lot of decisions this weekend.”

  Kyle set the lamp back on the table and stood up. “Need anything from the kitchen, Lou?” he asked.

  “Kyle,” Eden said, and this time her voice shook. “Since I'm working on the screenplay again, could I please see the next notebook?”

  Kyle frowned at her. “Why bother when you can just make up the past to suit yourself?”

  “Ky,” Lou chided.

  “The journals are yours, Eden.” Kyle turned his back on her as he headed for the kitchen.

  For the rest of the day she felt alone despite Cassie's constant entertainment and the phone calls from Michael and Nina. Michael was saintly in his low-pressure support, but Nina wanted her to make a statement to the press.

  “You have to, Eden. It'll be short and simple. He seduced you. You were vulnerable, being away from Michael all those weeks. You fell for his charm, never knowing his sordid, odious crime.”

  “Nina, no,” she said. “I can't say any of that.”

  “You have no choice, kiddo. We have major damage to undo.”

  “I don't care.”

  “Well, I care. And you will too as soon as you get your head out of the clouds and start thinking like yourself again. Even if you don't care about what this will do to yourself, Eden, think of the Children's Fund.”

  “I'm not the only person in the world who can represent the Children's Fund.”

  “Will you please think, Eden? You're being so dense you're driving me crazy. The Children's Fund is already suffering because of this. It's losing its support base. You know how quickly something like that can happen. People start to think that Eden Riley isn't the wonderful person they thought she was. If she's capable of poor judgment in one area, she's capable of it in others. She's probably embezzling the money she's taking in, or—”

  “Oh Nina, for heaven's sake, shut up. You're getting carried away.”

  “I am not. Look, I didn't want to tell you this, but Sue Shepherd is fit to be tied. She said some of the Fund's biggest contributors have already pulled out.”

  Eden closed her eyes. “Isn't it enough that I've broken up with him?”

  “No, sweetie, it's not enough. We need a statement.”

  “Can't I at least say that I think he may be innocent?” she asked.

  “No, Eden. He was convicted. Besides, we have to convince everyone you're over him.”

  “Let me work on it awhile,” Eden said. She needed a reprieve.

  She called Ben that evening with the intention of telling him about the statement. It would be all right. After all, Ben himself had suggested she go to the press after they'd first seen the tabloid. Still, she wanted to let him know how public it would be, how sorry she was that she had to do it. But he gave her no chance.

  “Eden, don't call me, all right?” he said the moment he heard her voice. “It makes it harder.” He told her he wanted to bring the dollhouse over the following day but would do it at a time when she was out, and she realized how serious he was about not wanting to see her or speak to her. She was not being fair. Calling him was selfish. Asking for his blessing on a statement that was going to add to his grief was cruel, a way to ease her guilt.

  “Call when you want to come over,” she said. “And I'll leave.”

  When Nina called back, Eden read her the statement. She had avoided the word “seduced” and any reference to Michael Carey, but the statement was still ugly and self-serving. And Nina wanted it uglier.

  “You don't sound repulsed enough,” Nina said.

  Eden argued with her for another hour over the wording, and then over the insertion of commas—anything to put off the release of the statement.

  “Okay,” Nina said. “Are we finally ready to go on this?”

  Eden was drained by the last hour, the last few days. “I can't do this to him,” she said.

  “This is self-defense, kiddo. It's either you or him. Okay?”

  Eden looked down at the handwritten statement on her lap. It was not much, just a few blue scribbles on white lined paper.

  “Eden?”

  “Okay.”

  Her regret was immediate. She tried to call Nina back the second she hung up the phone but the line was busy. What had she done? She'd rushed into this, let herself be coerced.

  She sent Cassie down to dinner without her, and an hour later Kyle knocked on her door. She sat up against the headboard of her bed as he lowered himself into the rocker. He was holding one of the notebooks.

  “Cassie said you were crying,” he said.

  “Have you seen Ben today?”

  Kyle nodded. “He's mechanical. Withdrawn. Doesn't want to talk.”

  “I have to make a statement to the press denouncing him. I'm going to betray him.” The tears threatened again as she waited for Kyle to berate her. She wanted to be scolded, but Kyle looked as though he hadn't heard her. He held the notebook up.

  “Just one more after this,” he said. Then he sighed. “I wish you wouldn't leave so soon,
Eden. I'm afraid it will be like it was before, with us hardly ever getting to see you.”

  “I have to go, Kyle. I was crazy to think I could live outside L.A. It's the only place I feel secure.”

  “Like an animal in a zoo, huh? You know someone will feed you and clean up after you and you never have to worry about the real world outside your cage.” He stood up and put the notebook on her bed. “But it's a cage just the same, Eden.”

  She didn't read the journal that night, and once again she slept poorly. In the morning Lou returned from town with muffins and the Washington Post. The statement was in the Style section, and in black and white it took on a disturbing credibility. No one would doubt her sincerity. No one would doubt Ben's devious nature and irrefutable guilt. Eden read the statement twice and went into the bathroom to throw up.

  She walked to the site later that morning. Ben was crouched in the third pit, dusting the earth. He looked up as she neared him but lowered his eyes again quickly.

  “Leave me alone, Eden,” he said.

  “You saw the paper?”

  He sat back on his heels and looked up at her again. “I went into Miller's Bakery this morning and Sara Jane Miller wouldn't sell me a doughnut. 'We reserve the right to refuse to serve scum,' she said. 'How could you deceive a sweet girl like Eden Riley?' she said.”

  “Ben, I'm so sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  She took a step closer to the pit.

  “Look, Eden.” He stood up. “This is the one place where I can lose myself and I don't have to think about anything. This goddamned hole in the ground is it, okay? The least you can do is let me work here in peace.”

  She turned and walked back across the field and into the woods. She stopped at the entrance to the cavern and set her hands on the cool surface of the huge boulder Kyle had rolled into place. She looked up at the dark triangular opening above the boulder and shuddered. Her mother's world had been inside this cave. Her life and her death. The journal was almost finished. Everything was coming to an end.