by Lyn Gardner
“What do you mean, promise?” Robin asked.
“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this or not, but your mother was going to move up here after she retired.”
“Yeah, I know that. She talked about it for years.”
“What you didn’t know is that Adele asked your mother to make that promise when they first got back together. Robin, I can’t say it enough. Your mother was terrified of having anyone ever find out about their relationship, and she knew what she was asking wasn’t fair, basically forcing Adele to take what she could get, but Adele worshiped your mother. Even if she’d had only one day a year to spend with Constance, she would have gladly taken it, but by asking your mother to promise to move here after she retired, Adele knew that one day they would be together. When your mother died, Adele’s hope died with her. It’s one of the reasons why I ended up closing up so much of Safe Harbor. Adele couldn’t walk into any of the bedrooms anymore.”
“Why?” Judy said.
“Judy, don’t ask,” Robin growled. “There are some things I don’t need to know.”
Maxine scrunched up her face. “Robin, it’s not what you’re thinking,” she said, and rummaging through the long, slender envelopes, she grabbed one and opened it. “Does this look familiar?”
Robin found herself staring at a photo of Adele and her mother gazing at each other while they stood on a tree-lined beach. “No,” she said, pushing it away.
“Look again,” Maxine said, sliding it back toward Robin.
Robin cleared her throat and picked up the photo again. “Fine, well, let’s see. We have my mother and Adele smiling at each other. No surprise there. After all, they were able to pull the wool over my eyes for over thirty flipping years. An empty beach. That’s exciting, except there are nicer ones in Florida. A stand of trees. Now, there’s a...a clue.” Robin sat up in her chair, her mouth falling open as she studied the photo. “I’ve seen this before,” she said, glancing over at Maxine. “But my mother and Adele weren’t in it.”
The slightest of grins appeared on Maxine’s face. “Didn’t you ever wonder how Adele came up with the names for the rooms?”
Robin shook her head. “We already figured that out by the mementos in the trunk. They were named after places she visited.”
“Can I see that?” Judy said, holding out her hand. Taking the picture, Judy’s eyes widened. “This is hanging in White Birch, but Robin’s right. The photo in that room is a landscape. Adele and Constance aren’t in it.”
“That’s right,” Maxine said before pointing to the envelopes on the table. “All of these contain pictures matching the ones in the rooms, but unlike those, these will have your mother and Adele in them.”
“But why?” Robin asked.
“Because they were in love and could only spend a few weeks together every year. This was a way for Adele to keep Constance close to her, and since Adele’s hobby was photography, she didn’t have to take them anywhere to be developed which, by the way, was something Constance wouldn’t have allowed anyway. Whenever your mother visited, especially in the winter, they’d take a long weekend, and Adele would bring along her camera. She’d set up her tripod and take two pictures, one with just the scenery and one with them. That way, whenever Adele went into any of the rooms, she’d always be reminded of your mother and their vacations. She chose the names for the same reason. They were either resorts or towns they visited, and Firefly was named after the cabin they stayed in during their first...uh...their first vacation together. It’s also the room your mother used whenever she was here.”
Robin jerked her head back. “Why would she stay up there?”
“I told you, she was afraid of anyone ever suspecting their relationship was anything different than what they pretended it to be,” Maxine said. “The hidden staircase gave her the opportunity to go upstairs like the rest of the guests and then—”
“Creep back down when the coast was clear,” Robin said, shoving the envelopes away.
Maxine glowered at Robin. “Please stop making this sound dirty, because it wasn’t. They were madly in love, Robin, and because of your mother’s fear of being found out, Adele did everything in her power to make Constance feel safe. It’s why she named the Inn, Safe Harbor. It was her promise to Constance that she would never have to be afraid there.”
Robin flicked her gaze to the ceiling and counted to ten. “So, Maxine,” she said, lowering her eyes. “What was your role in all of this subterfuge? Did you run interference or just hover in the shadows, waiting until they needed to come up with another lie?”
“Believe it or not, young lady, I make a point of telling the truth, except when it comes to protecting those I love. And the only outright lie I’ve told you was the one about how Adele got enough money to buy the Inn.”
Robin looked Maxine square in the eye. “That’s right. You said she got it from Stanley’s estate, but Stanley didn’t exist.”
“No, he didn’t. Your mother is the one who helped Adele buy the Inn.”
“What!”
“Between what she received after her parents died and your father’s life insurance, she had more than enough to live on and to put you through school, so she gave Adele part of the money your father had set aside for his retirement. She knew this was Adele’s dream. It was the least she could do knowing what she was asking of Adele.”
“Meaning, to wait for her.”
“Exactly, which is the reason Adele set up the trust. In her mind, the money Constance had given her should have been willed to you, but since it wasn’t, Adele thought leaving you Safe Harbor would make up for that...and then some.”
“I don’t give a shit about the money.”
“This isn’t about you, Robin. It’s about what they wanted.”
“You sure as hell sound like you know a lot about them. You three must have grown as thick as thieves over the years.”
“Robin, up until the early nineties, I had no idea that Constance and Adele weren’t sisters. I found out by accident.”
“How? No,” Robin said, holding up her hands. “Let me guess. You walked in on them?”
“Yes. It was just after Christmas, your mother’s usual visit, and since I knew she loved my cherry nut pound cake, I made her one and took it over early on a Saturday. I let myself into the house like I always did, and I found them in the kitchen...kissing.”
“Jesus Christ,” Robin said under her breath.
“Your mother became hysterical, and ran back to the apartment, crying like...like someone had just told her you died. Adele, on the other hand, just stood there, staring at me, a little defiant, a little hurt...and more than a little scared.” Maxine paused to take a sip of her much-needed drink. “I knew it wasn’t the right time to ask questions, not that I even had the right to ask them, so I went over and gave Adele a kiss on her cheek, told her that her secret was safe with me, and I left. A couple of weeks later, she invited me over for dinner and told me the whole story.”
Tears welled in Robin’s eyes as she shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“Robin, I know for a fact that if it had been up to Adele, she would have told you. She loved your mother so much, she wanted the world to know, but Constance was so, so terrified of being found out—”
“That she took it to the grave with her,” Robin said, sniffling back her emotion. “That’s just fucking great.”
“But Adele didn’t.”
“Why?” Robin said, leaning forward in her chair. “Because we found the footlocker?”
“No, because Adele’s the one who hid it, along with the keys and the cameras on the staircase.”
“You knew they were there?”
“I told you Adele wanted the world to know how much she loved your mother, but Constance never found the courage. In life, Adele would never go against what your mother wanted, but in death, she decided to leave it up to fate. Adele was a huge believer in karma and how if things were meant to be, they’d be. So, before she put
herself into that home, she packed up the footlocker and left behind a few other things, knowing if you found them, you’d either figure it out for yourself or if I were still around, you’d come talk to me.”
“Then why weren’t these pictures in the trunk? Why do you have them?”
“Because she didn’t care if strangers found a trunk full of mementos, but these were too precious to her to have them fall into a stranger’s hand. She actually told me to destroy them if...if you had no interest in the Inn.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this from the beginning? Why wait until we found the trunk?”
“Because that’s not what Adele wanted. Like I said, she believed in fate.”
Robin rested back in her chair, stretching her arms out before running her fingers through her hair. “You know what, Maxine?” she said as she pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “Screw fate. Screw the secrets and the lies and all the head games that went with it. As far as I’m concerned, you can burn everything.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Judy flipped down the kickstand on her bike. Unzipping her jacket, she looked up at the house. “Fourth day’s the charm?”
When they left Maxine’s on Sunday, Robin hadn’t said a word. Jumping onto her bike, she was down the street before Judy had time to pull on her gloves. After what Maxine had told them, Judy understood Robin needed some time to make sense out of everything, so she didn’t return to Safe Harbor until the following day.
They had planned to go Christmas shopping, but on Monday morning, Judy knew in an instant, she’d be going by herself. She found Robin in the parlor, dressed in the same clothes she had worn the day before. Her hair hadn’t been brushed and by the circles under her eyes, Judy knew Robin hadn’t got much sleep, although she wondered why since there were two empty bottles of wine on the coffee table. The exchange of words was almost non-existent, Judy barely getting out the question before Robin growled back the answer, and Judy left only minutes after she had arrived...alone.
Tuesday was almost a reincarnation of Monday except Robin had changed into a baggy sweat suit and was camping out in her own living room when Judy came into the house. The kitchen was littered with crumpled chip bags, opened packages of cookies, and another empty wine bottle, and sitting on the island was a tub of ice cream, the melted mint chocolate chip contents leaking across the countertop. Judy tried again to get Robin out of the house, hoping a change of scenery would alter her frame of mind, but Robin was as unyielding as steel. Sitting cross-legged on the sofa, with her arms folded and her jaw set, the dozen words she muttered were dripping with disdain. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to shop, and when Judy persisted, Robin jumped off the sofa, stomped to her bedroom, and slammed the door. Moments later, Judy left the house with an attitude that matched Robin’s. She could understand Robin’s anger, and Judy accepted it would take time to get past the hurt, but slamming a door in a friend’s face wasn’t the way to go about it.
The following morning, Judy phoned Robin to let her know she wouldn’t be over. If Robin wanted space, Judy would give her exactly what she was asking for, but Judy’s call went directly to voicemail. She tried again an hour later and again, an hour after that, but the results were the same. Robin had turned off her phone, slamming yet another door in Judy’s face.
Judy didn’t like being rebuffed. She was trying to be a friend, trying to lend an ear if that’s what Robin needed, but in return, Robin was giving her the ultimate cold shoulder. Judy’s calls had gone unanswered, and the few texts she knew wouldn’t have been answered, had gone unread, so standing on the walk outside Safe Harbor on Thursday morning, while the air was frigid, Judy’s annoyance was keeping her warm. Enough was enough. Stuffing her gloves into her pockets, she trudged up the steps and let herself into the house.
She wasn’t sure what to expect when she came inside, but as soon as the aroma of coffee found its way to Judy, a small grin appeared. Coffee was a good sign. After all, it wasn’t wine.
After draping her rain gear on the coat tree, Judy zigzagged through the totes still cluttering the foyer, pausing near the parlor to look inside. The tree in front of the windows had yet to be decorated, but the room was neat and tidy again, and Judy’s grin grew a wee bit bigger.
Fred peeked out from under the table as Judy walked through the dining room, and pausing long enough for him to amble by, she followed the black-and-white cat to Robin’s apartment. She couldn’t help but hold her breath as she rounded the corner leading to the kitchen, but seeing not a crumb in sight on countertops spotless and shining, Judy exhaled, and her grin dared to become something more.
With a little more pep in her step, Judy strolled to the living room. Finding it empty, she turned around, and as she passed the spare bedroom, she saw that the door leading to the stairs to Firefly was open. As quietly as she could, Judy went over and listened, and when she heard a distant tapping, she beamed. Robin was writing.
Judy returned to the kitchen, and as she debated on whether to leave or work in the office, the fruit basket on the counter gave her the answer she was looking for. If there was ice left to be broken, this would do the trick.
***
“What are you doing?”
Judy smiled, and turning around she was about to answer, but instead, she scrambled not to drop the measuring cup she’d been washing. Given the number of days she had existed on only junk food and wine, Robin’s pale complexion was understandable, and the black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose had become a familiar sight so Judy wasn’t surprised by what she could see. She was shocked and somewhat saddened by what she couldn’t. “You...you cut your hair.”
Robin crossed her arms. “Yeah, I decided I needed a change.”
Judy took a moment to adjust to Robin’s new look. Longer in the front and shorter in the back, and parted far to the left, the asymmetrical pixie cut ended inches away from her shoulders. It was sleek and edgy, hiding in its chic style a few years of Robin’s age while exposing her long neck and accentuating her strong jaw. It was perfect. “I like it.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Robin said, rubbing the peach fuzz on the back of her neck. “And you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing?”
“I...um...I saw some overly ripe bananas in the fruit bowl. I thought you might enjoy some freshly-baked banana bread.”
For two days, Robin had stewed in juices thickened by heartache and anger. Smothered by her rage, compassion had escaped her, the empathy needed to understand what her mother had done nullified by emotions she owned, but could not control. However, on the third day, Robin awoke with a different mindset. Fuck it. Fuck the years of deceit. Fuck her mother and her lies, and fuck the world.
More of a mantra than a mindset, it was nonetheless the fuel Robin needed to propel her through that day and into Thursday morning. She cleaned. She bathed. She ate. She escaped long enough to find a salon to rid herself of something she knew her mother adored, and she tried to write, but Robin’s mantra hadn’t erased the hurt. It only confined it, caging it like an animal, untamed and rabid. It had spent twenty-four hours pacing in its jail, patiently waiting for release and Judy’s gesture, as heartfelt as it may have been, just opened the cage.
Robin didn’t want comfort. She didn’t want a friend or a confidante, and she didn’t want an ally or a shoulder to cry on. All she wanted was to get Judy out of the house before Robin said something she’d regret. Unfortunately, Robin’s agitation was about to leak out in her tone.
“Well, you thought wrong. I’m not hungry, and I don’t want any banana bread,” Robin said, turning to leave. “Just take it with you when you leave.”
Judy’s backbone stiffened. “Stop it.”
“What?” Robin said, looking over her shoulder.
Judy set down the cup and picked up a towel to dry her hands. “I said stop it. Stop treating me like the enemy. Stop being rude. Stop wallowing in whatever you’re wallowing in because it’s not healthy, a
nd it’s not going to change anything. Your mother was gay. She didn’t tell you. Get over it.”
“Get over it?” Robin said, taking a step toward Judy. “That’s your advice? Just...get over it?”
“Look, I know it’s not that simple—”
“You know nothing!” Robin shouted. “Your mother didn’t deceive you her entire life. Your mother didn’t lie to your face year after year after year. Your mother wasn’t ashamed of you!”
“What the hell are you talking about? She wasn’t ashamed of you.”
“Judy, she hid in the shadows, afraid of what people would think. You don’t do that unless you’re ashamed, and if she was ashamed of being a lesbian, then she was ashamed of me.”
“She was scared, Robin. Times were different back—”
“I was her daughter!” Robin screamed. “And I know things were a lot harder way back when, but trust me, things haven’t changed that much. Sure, we can get married now, and we can even adopt kids, but don’t you think for one goddamned minute that makes everything else go away.”
“I wasn’t saying—”
“Do you think I haven’t been discriminated against? Try going into a diner for months, thinking that all the people who work there are your friends, and then one day you show up for breakfast with a woman, and suddenly you can’t get a table, suddenly you’re not wanted because she’s a little too butch for their tastes. Do you think I haven’t been threatened? What exactly do you think skinheads promise when they shout at you while you walk in a parade or attend a march for gay rights? Do you think I haven’t had guys tell me all I need is a good man when they see me out on a date with a woman? Do you think I haven’t had Bible thumpers screech at me that I was going to hell? Do you think I haven’t heard the sick jokes, seen the signs, or I haven’t been called every disgusting name in the book? Do you? Do you!”
