Silent Pretty Things

by O. J. Lovaz

  They must be meeting in the backyard, Anna swiftly concluded. They had taken separate routes to avoid detection, but it was as clear as day. Her father would go out the back door and wait for her there. Someone had to go and check on them right away.

  Frank almost got up. Anna stopped him with a subtle gesture. To avoid alerting their mother, only one of them should go. Frank and Diane were sitting too close to her, so their getting up could’ve tipped her off that something was awry.

  Sarah caught on to their situation and grabbed Diane’s wrist under the table to keep her from rising. Anna texted, “I’ll go. Stay here and act natural.” Frank looked down at his phone and whispered something to Michael, who nodded in silent agreement.

  Anna got up and walked slowly first, then faster as she approached the steps. Michael was right behind her. She couldn’t be sure that her dad and Marlene wouldn’t be inside the house. That was another possibility, she thought suddenly, and gestured Michael to avoid making any noises.

  They stopped and listened intently as they reached the dining room. Nothing. They went a little further. Anna peered up the dark stairs. They stayed motionless for a few seconds. Not a sound. They made it all the way back. The door was open. Anna carefully approached a window while Michael crouched by the open door. An aluminum screen door provided him some concealment from anyone looking in from the outside.

  Anna couldn’t see a thing out there. It was pitch black. Michael motioned her to come over by his side. Anna tiptoed, crouched, and crawled her way to him. He pointed to a spot in the garden where something was moving. She stuck her face to the screen and peered into the darkness. In a few seconds her eyes adjusted, and she could make out two silhouettes under the very dim light of the quarter moon.

  The female form that more and more resembled Marlene now gesticulated with her arms, as if quarreling. “It’s them, all right,” Anna whispered to Michael. “This looks pretty damning.” She took a picture with her phone, but the quality of the photograph was very poor. It was too dark, and she couldn’t use the flash.

  Suddenly, they saw Victor holding Marlene, pulling her closer to him. Any last trace of hope was now gone—the affair was real. Her own shame no longer mattered. The thought of revealing to her mother her sister’s betrayal made her heart ache more than anything else. And then there was also Diane—poor Diane.

  She tried to record a video, as definitive evidence, but by the time she had them on frame, Marlene had pushed him away and was walking back. Her father stayed behind; he lit up a cigarette.

  “We need to get back before Marlene gets there,” Anna said. Michael led the way back out of the house. A moment later, they were back at the table. Frank and Diane were trying hard to read their faces. Marlene returned in another minute, giving Anna the impression that she may have stopped along the way, perhaps to compose herself.

  Anna texted Frank and Diane, “They met in the garden. He tried to kiss her, but she wouldn’t let him. Sorry, too dark out there for pictures or videos.” Sarah had been looking over her shoulder as she typed. Fine, she might as well know.

  In another minute or two, her father returned and sat next to her, as before; he brought with him the unmistakable stench of cigarette smoke. Anna didn’t look at him.

  Diane replied, “We are doing this now. One way or another, let’s get those messages.”

  “Dad’s phone is on the table. Need a good diversion to stage a swap.”

  Frank sent instructions, “I’ll pull him off to the side. Swap phones when you hear me speaking to him. Wait for him to grab the wrong phone before attempting the pass code. My little drama should buy you a couple of minutes.”

  In another moment, Frank stood up quietly and walked behind Michael, Mark, the kid, and Jackie. He turned around and approached his father from his right side. Anna locked her phone and carefully placed it on the table next to her father’s. As soon as Frank spoke and her dad’s gaze turned to him, she switched the position of the phones so that now her phone was the one closest to Victor’s left hand.

  “Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?” Frank asked in a tone that was somehow entreating and haughty at the same time.

  “Sure, go ahead.” Victor sounded curious.

  “I meant alone. Perhaps, we can sit on the porch?”

  “Um, sure, why not?” Victor’s tone betrayed surprise. Without looking back, he reached for his phone as he rose from his chair; his hand found Anna’s phone where his had been and carried it away.

  Time to get the job done, but the kid’s dumb empty gaze had fixed on Anna, for whatever reason. What would a smeared piece of lasagna look on that goddamned face?

  Right on cue, Michael stood up and clumsily knocked off his half-full beer bottle and an amber river spilled out of it in the direction of Mark. “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry, Mark. I’ll clean it up. Hope I didn’t get any of it on you.” It was a crafty distraction to get all eyes away from her. She took her dad’s phone and brought it down to her lap.

  Anna darted a look at Diane, and their eyes met. Her cousin’s expression revealed not only great anticipation, but also dread. Anna entered the pass code 8-6-9-7. It didn’t work. Then it must have been four, she thought, and tried 8-6-9-4. It unlocked.

  Holy crap, it unlocked. Her sweaty hands fumbled through screen after screen—heart throbbing, throat knotted, temperature rising—she found the damned messaging application.

  Marlene’s name at the top of the list; he had texted her only minutes ago, “Meet me in the back.” Even that might be evidence enough. She started scrolling up in a rush to find older messages—one month old to be precise. It was then that she was startled by her father’s powerful, ominous voice.

  “Hey, Anna. Anna! That’s my phone.” A chill ran through her body, and her hands shook violently as she scrambled to close the messaging application and lock the phone.

  Her father stood next to her now. Dead silence, then his voice again, collected, cool. “That’s my phone you have there, Anna. Here’s yours.”

  “Yes, I just noticed that myself. They’re almost identical, aren’t they? We must have got them mixed up.”

  “Evidently,” he said, now with a raspy voice, as he unlocked his phone and scrutinized it with glittering, beady eyes. He stood there for a moment before returning to the porch, where Frank awaited him.

  A message from her brother asked, “Did you get it?” Michael’s inquisitive eyes asked the same question. Sarah whispered to her, “Are you all right?” Diane couldn’t wait any longer—she came over and crouched next to Anna. She spoke in an urgent whisper, the way a prisoner of war would speak to another during a fleeting lapse in surveillance.

  “What did you see? Tell me, please. Tell me now,” she said.

  “I could only see one message before Dad came back. It said, ‘Meet me in the back.’ That’s all. I didn’t have enough time.”

  “You did get in, then?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “The pass code, which one was it?” Diane asked with urgency, as if she needed it to defuse a bomb.

  “Why does that matter now?” Anna stole a glance at her mother and Aunt Marlene. Thankfully, they were chatting away, oblivious to the drama unfolding so very close to them.

  “Which one was it, Anna? Was it 8-6-9-4?”

  “Yes, that was it. What’s going on with you?” Anna felt a pang in her heart when she saw Diane’s eyes fill up with tears. Something was very wrong.

  “August 6, 1994,” she said somberly, her lips quivering like tiny leaves trying to survive a blustery fall evening. She put her hand behind Anna’s back, pulled her toward her, and whispered to her ear, “It’s my fucking birth date, Anna. It’s me. I was born that day. Why? Why? You tell me: Why the hell is your father’s pass code my birth date, not yours or Frank’s?”

  Anna felt suddenly cold, as if turning to stone. What Diane was implying was too terrible to imagine, let alone utter. She dared not say it or ask her cousin to spell it out.

/>   “Anna, listen to me,” Diane looked her straight in the eyes, and remarkably, there was now resolve in hers—those icy-blue eyes. “Please do as I say. No questions. I’m going to stand up now and I’m going to walk past Mom. At the exact moment when I’m behind her, you’re going to call her name. Make it loud. Startle her. I don’t care what you say to her afterward—it’s not going to matter.”

  Diane did as she said. At the right moment, Anna called out, “Aunt Marlene!” It was loud enough that not only her aunt, but her mother, Grandma Rose, and even Michael and Sarah, all started in their seats. None of them seemed to notice when Diane snatched her mother’s phone and kept walking with her own phone to her ear, simulating being on a call.

  “Goodness gracious, Anna,” said Lydia. “You’re either a little deaf or a little drunk.”

  “I’m sorry, I…just want to tell Aunt Marlene, and Grandma, that their making the trip to be here with us today, well, it’s amazing. I’m really happy you came.”

  “I think we all agree with that,” her mother said. “But maybe also no more beer for you, darling, okay?”

  “Aww, aren’t you sweet?” said Marlene. “Let her drink all she wants, Lydia. Just don’t drive, Anna. You should stay here tonight. Right, Lydia?”

  “It sure looks that way.” The Wilde sisters shared a good laugh at her expense. It would be their last laugh of the night.

  Once under the cover of darkness, Diane ran toward the bench under the big oak tree. Soon, all Anna could see of her was a shadowy silhouette dashing though the blackness. It was at least another minute before Marlene noticed that her phone was missing. At first, she remained calm, as she rummaged around in her bag. When she didn’t find it there, her demeanor began to show some urgency. She looked on the grass around her, got down on one knee to search under her chair and under the table.

  When she rose again, she appeared unhinged, darting frantic glances around the table, repeating over and over, “Have you seen my phone?” Her eyes settled on the empty chair where Diane had been, and terror sprang from her eyes and spread through her face, like it had always been there, waiting for this moment.

  Anna heard her father’s voice coming from the porch, getting a little closer every moment. “I’m glad we talked, kid” were his dad’s last words before he was standing silently next to her. One ominous glance from Marlene had frozen him in place. Then the whole table went quiet. Frank seemed stunned at first, but in another moment, he had understood something, and his eyes gleamed like hellfire. About a hundred yards away loomed, floating in the dark, a light, like a large firefly. Marlene started marching toward it, and instinctively, it would seem, everyone followed her. So did Anna.

  The light became Diane’s face, illuminated by the bright, white screen of her mother’s phone. She was seating on the bench, sheltered by the big oak tree.

  “Diane!” Marlene called out. “What are you doing there? You’re scaring the heck out of all of us.”

  “It’s you, Mom, who’s going to scare them now,” Diane said in an eerie monotone voice, as if possessed. She stood up on top of the bench, such that everyone could see her intense countenance floating in midair.

  “Whatever this is, Diane, stop it.” Marlene’s voice faltered. “Please, let’s talk inside.”

  “Oh, no, no. It seems this little chat is more than two decades overdue, and it doesn’t concern just us, does it, Mom? Let’s stay out here and do a little light reading from your chat with Uncle Victor. Well, you know what? I’ll just call him Victor for now.”

  Victor intervened, “Diane, you’re embarrassing yourself with this spectacle. Come down from there this very second.” His voice sounded commanding but hollow, like a corrupt general giving out his last orders before being court-martialed.

  Frank’s voice broke out from the shadows, loud and clear, triumphant even. “Let’s hear it, Diane. Let’s hear it all.”

  Anna sought out her mother in the dark. A faint ray of moonlight shone upon Lydia’s motionless face; she gave the impression of being made of marble. Anna stood beside her and held her hand; it felt in her grasp like a cold river stone. She braced for impact.

  Diane began, “Four weeks ago, on a Sunday, this was Victor’s first message of the day to you, Mom. ‘I want to see you again. I know you must feel the same. Our attraction is inevitable, a law of nature.’

  “And you answered, ‘We can’t do this anymore. I moved out to Baltimore to get away from you. You made your choice. You have a wife, my sister!’

  “He replied, ‘I asked you to be my wife. I would have left Lydia. At least, I’m honest about it. Will you deny that you left George because you were still in love with me?’”

  Diane glanced at her petrified audience. Her theater mask had worn off, and tears were streaming down her face. Her voice now began to break up. “There’s more. Mom answered, ‘Don’t even mention George. That saintly man was to Diane the father you would have never been.’” Diane paused, wiped her tears. “Oh, dear God. He says, ‘But I am her father.’”

  Gasps, weeping, and murmuring filled the air. Anna embraced her mother. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.” What else could she say to her? “Let me get you the hell away from here.”

  Her mother said nothing, just hugged her back.

  Diane kept on, her face soaked with tears. “My father, Mom? My father? Your sister’s husband? Have you no shame? And this…this is how I find out? You’ll both burn in hell.”

  Diane read from Marlene’s phone. “Oh, but you knew that already. ‘You and I are both to blame for this, and we shall be judged in the end.’ Your words. Yes, I do hope you’re judged in the end, but I will judge you now. We will all judge you now. You’re guilty! You’re horrible creatures, both of you—you’ve caused nothing but pain to those you were supposed to love.”

  Diane threw the phone at her weeping mother’s feet. “I’ll say one more thing, and then I’m going to leave. Victor Goddard, you may have impregnated my mother, but you’re not my father. I’m the daughter of George Jennings, a great man who I adore, who has shown me unconditional love, and who has always been there for me, no matter what. Nobody will take that away from me. Anna, and Frank, whatever we are to each other, I do want you in my life. Aunt Lydia, I’m so very sorry. You deserved better than this.”

  With those last words, Diane dashed through the darkness before anyone could react. In another moment, she had made it to her car and was gone. Marlene was on the ground, crying bitterly, holding her head with both hands. A few steps away, Lydia wept in Anna’s arms, quietly, in a dignified manner. Frank too came to console his mother, and they melded in one embrace. Michael and Sarah stood around them in stunned silence. Grandma Rose sat on the bench, crying wretchedly for her daughters.

  Mark and his family had apparently bolted during the commotion. Off to the side, Victor remained, alone, staring at them like a sinister presence. He finally spoke in a callous voice, without a trace of remorse.

  “Here we are, in a way, right where we started—me and the lovely Wilde sisters. I tried to make up my mind—I really did; but you made it so damn hard. Oh, Marlene, the prophecy is now fulfilled. I always thought this day would come. It was naive of you to think that we could live our whole lives hiding this secret. All those years ago, the truth could have liberated us. Now, the truth has come back to exact its vengeance.”

  Marlene would not speak, or stop crying pitifully, and she would not raise an inch of her body. It seemed like she was begging for the earth to open up and swallow her whole. Lydia pulled back slightly from Anna and darted a glance at her sister. Which emotion it was that flashed on her face at that instant, Anna couldn’t say.

  When Frank abruptly turned around and dashed toward his father, Anna knew he wasn’t about to have a chat with him. She tried to stop him but wasn’t quick enough.

  Lydia cried, “Frank, don’t!”

  “Take it easy kid,” said Victor. “I’d hate to have to give you another beating.”


  Frank was not in the mood for talking; he was in the mood for hitting. The first punch he swung just missed Victor’s face. His father countered with a short punch to the ribs, which seemed to stop Frank for a second, but he recovered quickly and launched a vicious left hook that landed on Victor’s chin. Just then, Michael grabbed Frank and pulled him back, saying, “Come on, man, stop this. Escalating matters won’t help anyone. You got him pretty good there. Now, let him go.”

  “Ugh, you’re right, buddy,” Frank said to him while stepping back, his eyes never leaving the sight of his father.

  Victor stood there nursing his chin. His eyes glimmered menacingly. “I guess we are done talking for now. I’ll get out of your way. We’ll talk later, Lydia, when cooler heads can prevail,” he said.

  Lydia finally blew up. “What is there to talk about, you dirty, rotten bastard? You piece of shit! I’m leaving tonight. Tonight! You hear me? Tonight!”

  “Are you? Well, I guess it’s never too late to start over. Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “She’ll be fine. I promise you that, you monster!” said Anna.

  “You better get the fuck out of here already, or I swear I’ll rip your head off!” Frank bellowed out, his face contorting with primal rage, his fists clenched and ready to make true on his threat. Sarah put her hand on his chest and looked him in the eye; he took a deep breath, and his fists loosened.

  “Like I said, we’ll talk later. I’ll be in the basement, out of your way.” Victor’s moonlit small eyes glowed spitefully, chillingly. He turned around and walked away.

  CHAPTER XV

  Once Victor was gone, a sudden, awful silence engulfed them. Marlene had sat up on the grass, her face still drenched with tears. She looked absolutely shattered, as if she had aged five years in five minutes. She now spoke for the first time since Diane had left. Her voice came out subdued, brittle, and imbued with a sense of hopelessness.

  “Lydia, I wish there was something I could say to you that would make things better. I know there isn’t. I know I’m dead to you, now. And dead to my daughter, too. I’m as much of a monster as he is. Perhaps, I’m worse. Hell must be full of shameless wretches like me.”