Lake of Secrets

by Shay Lee Giertz

  “Stop!” Gran shouts and steps back. I hear her voice shaking.

  Anger takes over. I am already outside and moving toward them when I hear dispatch. “We need police assistance at 7289 Pigeon Lake Drive. The residence of Rose Paxton…The reason? We have a man on our premises that is making horrible threats to my grandmother. He’s been asked to leave several times…Yes, I’ll stay on the line.” I take a stance next to Gran and glare at him with disgust. “What kind of man threatens an old woman?”

  He looks from her to me and shakes his head. “All deals are off the table,” he says to her before opening his truck’s door. It’s one of those monster trucks with tires almost as tall as I am. The engine roars to life, and he backs up and speeds out so fast, gravel spits at us.

  The dispatcher is talking in my ear. “Yes, that was the man threatening us.”

  “Hang up the phone,” Gran says, still shaken.

  When I don’t do it immediately, she takes it from my hand, says into it, “False alarm, everything’s fine,” and cuts off the call.

  “You told me to call the police.”

  “Yes, it was a scare tactic to get him off the property. It worked.”

  “You should file a report.”

  “The police already have enough on their hands to worry about me.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m worried about you! As soon as Dad finds out, he’s going to go bloody ballistic! That man threatened you!”

  “You can’t tell your Dad.”

  “Oh yes, I can.”

  “Ginnie, I’m serious. That man’s not going to harm me. I told you already that he wants…my property.”

  “What did he mean when he said all deals are off the table?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “If you want me not to tell Dad, you better give me a bit more information than that.”

  “Why were you listening? This doesn’t concern you. I will take care of it, and I will tell your father when I’m good and ready.” She walks to the door. “And for the record, I’m not that old.”

  She can argue all she wants. But this is serious. I pace outside, waiting for Dad to arrive. Gran wants me to not tell Dad. Yeah, right.

  Gran calls from inside, “If you’re waiting for your father, you’ll be waiting a while.”

  I stop pacing and look over at the driveway. The Mustang is gone. “Where’d he go?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  I march to the house. “Where’d he go?” I repeated.

  “I heard the Mustang start-up and leave about thirty minutes ago.”

  “Where’d he go?” I ask again.

  Gran raises her eyebrows.

  “Dad is going to find out one way or another, Gran. Either I wait here until he comes back, or I go to him right now.”

  “You can’t go to him. You don’t have a car.”

  “You do.”

  “You don’t know how to drive. Having the wheel on the left is kind of tricky.”

  She’s right about that. “I don’t get it. Why are you keeping secrets? We’re your family. We can help. You’re shutting us out, and that guy looked like he could snap you like a twig.”

  Gran scoffs, but it’s half-hearted. We are at a stand-off, and she’s about to see how stubborn I can be. “All right, if I promise to talk to your father when Aunt Sue gets here, would you allow me to handle it? There are things I need to tell both of them.”

  “When does Aunt Sue get here?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “I don’t think that guy is going to give you until tomorrow night.”

  “Yes, he will.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because Ginnie. That man wants something from me. If he does what he’s threatened to do, then he will never get what he’s wanting. So, you see? If anyone is in control of this situation, it’s me. Not him.”

  I don’t believe her. There’s something about that man that’s desperate enough to do something crazy. Oddly enough, my stomach chooses that moment to growl.

  “Your father is spending some time with a friend. He said something about lunch at Manny’s Steakhouse,” Gran says. “I’m finishing up some trays for this evening’s pinochle club if you want to stick around.”

  Her normalcy surprises me. Here it seems everything is in absolute chaos, and she is fixing food for pinochle club.

  “I don’t see how you can keep this quiet until tomorrow night.”

  “Please.” She grabs my arm and squeezes gently. “Please, trust me.” When I nod, she continues, “How about some of that food I made?”

  “First, I need some coffee.”

  Once I’m seated at the table and drinking my coffee concoction, Gran sets a plate in front of me. “I know you just woke up, but it’s technically lunch. Have some homemade spinach dip and pita bread.”

  “You’re trying to soften me up.” I take a bite. “Mmm, this is good.”

  Gran sat at the table with her plate. “Just trust me. I’ll talk to both my children tomorrow.”

  I nod and keep eating.

  “Want to explain why you’re up so late? Half the day is gone.”

  “I stayed up late.”

  “Another movie marathon?”

  “No.” I blush and focus on my coffee cup. “I was up talking with Isaac.”

  Gran chuckles. “Oh, those were the days. Your Grandpa and I would stay late on my front porch until my father would kick him off it. We’d sit and talk and do some necking, and then talk some more.” Gran gazes off in the distance, as she smiles at the memory.

  “It’s not often you meet the one person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with. Most people go through a couple before they get it right. Some people, like my Mum, will probably never get it right.”

  Gran’s gaze lands on me. “When you get it right, it’s something special, Ginnie.”

  “Do you miss Grandpa?” I ask, then add, “Okay, that’s a silly question. Of course, you do. I do, too. You both always came to London in the summer.”

  “I miss him every day. And I was planning on coming out this summer, but your father told me to stay here. He said that you two were taking a special trip here. He wouldn’t listen, of course. He’s getting just as stubborn as Sue.”

  “Wait, what?” The pita bread is suspended in mid-air, as Gran’s words hit my ears. “Dad was planning on coming here? Before you got sick?”

  Gran’s eyes widen as if she realizes the information herself. “I don’t know. I’m not sure why I would say that.” She stands up quickly.

  “Gran? What are you keeping from me?”

  “You know what? I need to run to the store. I have a list of ingredients I need for my pineapple upside cake.”

  “Gran!”

  She sighs and looks at me. “Ginnie, I honestly don’t know. It could be that he was planning on coming up in July. I don’t remember the particulars. Didn’t he have a conference first?”

  “Yes, he had a conference.” The thought of Dad lying curbs my appetite. But Gran is right. He hadn’t made plans to come here because he had to attend the conference. Still, it will drive me bonkers until I ask him and get a straight answer. “I think I’ll try driving to the restaurant. How difficult can it be, right? Do you want me to run to the store for you? Since I’ll be out anyway?”

  Gran does not look convinced that it’s a good idea, but she goes to find her purse. I wonder if I should leave her. Would that angry man come back?

  “Do you want to go together?” I call out to her. “Maybe you shouldn’t be here alone.” I still haven’t decided if I’m going to keep her secret. Dad will be livid if I keep this from him. Then again, it seems like there are lots of secrets in the family. What’s one more?

  When she comes back, she says, “It’s a good thing I’m insured,” and hands me the keys. “And I live alone twelve months out of the year. I’ll be fine. I was out back gardening, and I didn’t finish.”

  “Okay, I
guess. Let me go throw on some clothes.”

  “And you’ll give me until tomorrow night to tell your father, correct? You’re not heading to see him to tattle on me, are you?”

  Something inside me nags not to agree, but I find myself saying, “You have until tomorrow night.” I hold out my pinky. “I pinky promise.”

  Gran holds out her pinky, and we pinky-shake. Once she hears the answer she wants, she hums to herself as she pilfers through the cupboards. I shake my head as I watch her. She acts completely unruffled.

  On a whim, I go to her and hug her from behind. “I love you, Gran. I hope I’m like you. A strong, independent woman.”

  She turns around and hugs me hard. “My Ginnie girl, I love you to pieces. And no matter what happens, always remember that.”

  I go change and then walk to Gran’s car. I pause and study the vehicle for a moment, talking myself into driving it. “Piece of cake,” I say, taking one of Dad’s expressions. But her car is this mammoth Lincoln that reminds me of one of those pontoon boats I’ve seen on the water, so I don’t know how much of a “piece of cake” it’s going to be. I open the driver’s door—which is on the wrong side of the car—and slide in. I sit there and try to get used to the bizarre feeling of the wheel on the left side. The car starts up as soon I turn the key, and I’ve put it in reverse before I can talk myself out of it.

  That’s when my cellphone rings. I back up onto the road, then slam the brakes so I can answer the phone. I put it into drive and answer at the same time. “Hello?”

  “Hi. It’s Isaac.”

  I swerve and nearly hit a tree.

  “I was calling to make sure you fell asleep okay?”

  “I slept great. Once someone stopped texting me.”

  “At least you got some decent sleep. I’ve been up since seven this morning because some of us have to work.”

  “Oh no! That’s horrible.” I nearly side-swipe a mailbox.

  “You seem distracted. Want me to come over? I’ve got some news if you’re ready for it.”

  “Get out of the way!” I yell at a stray dog. “A dog’s in the middle of the sodding road.”

  “Are you driving?” Isaac sounds shocked.

  “Not very well, I’m afraid. I wanted to go see my Dad up at some steakhouse, but I’m questioning whether or not I’ll make it alive.” A delivery truck goes sailing by me. I drop the phone. I hear Isaac talking, but the phone is on the floor in the passenger area. I make it to a stop sign and slam on the brakes. I pick up the phone. “Sorry. It slipped.”

  “Drive the car back to your grandmother’s. I’m coming to pick you up.”

  “No mudding, right?”

  “No mudding…for tonight.”

  “Okay, but hurry. I’m famished.” I turn the big boat around—after reversing and maneuvering about a half dozen times—and drive back to the house. Good. I’m not too sure about the whole driving on a big road.

  I park the car and am running up the steps to drop off the keys when Isaac pulls up. I turn and yell, “Give me a second. I’ve got to give Gran her keys!” Stepping inside, I head to the kitchen. “Hey, Gran? Isaac’s going to drive me to town.”

  I set the keys on the counter and freeze in my tracks. “Gran?”

  She is lying on the floor unconscious.

  13

  Isaac holds my hand and tells me to try and relax. Any other time I would be a pool of warm liquid. Right now I want to tell him to shove off. Instead, I stand up and start pacing again. He’s smart enough to not say anything.

  The hospital is small, and the waiting room is smaller. I can only pace about four steps before I have to turn around and pace in the other direction. It’s a good thing my stomach stayed empty because it would have all came up again. I wring my hands as the one sole thought runs through my mind. It’s my fault.

  I left her alone. I should have waited until Dad showed up. I should have just stayed and helped her prep for her card party. I should have been there. Tears keep leaking, and I have to blink several times to keep them to a minimum. No time for tears. Police will be here any minute. Dad will be here. Aunt Sue is driving up. Gran’s in the hospital bed. They’ll want answers. From me.

  And what do I say?

  “Ginnie, if you wouldn’t have come back and found her when you did, it could have turned out so much worse,” Isaac says.

  I stop and stare at him. As if I’m looking at a stranger. Then again, I met him only several days ago. Is that all? Yet he’s here. At the hospital with me. Gran had told me he was a good guy. “Thank you,” I manage to say. “I can quite honestly say that you’ve seen me at my worst on more than one occasion.”

  “I’m just sorry that all this is happening.”

  I nod and have to blink back tears again.

  The door bursts open, and Dad rushes to me. I notice a blonde woman walk in with him. She goes toward the nurses’ work station. His arms are around me. I smell perfume on his clothes.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  Where do I start? What do I tell him? “She was on the floor in the kitchen.”

  “How long had she been there?”

  “Not long. Only a few minutes.”

  “Thank God you were there, Virginia.” Dad holds me close. He releases me and sees Isaac. “You were there?”

  “I had only arrived to take Ginnie into town. I heard her yelling for help. When I ran in and saw Ms. Paxton, I called 9-1-1.”

  “Can we see her yet?” Dad asks me.

  “No, I don’t even know if she’s okay…” I stop and cover my mouth with my hand.

  Dad hugs me again. “We’ll get through this. She’ll pull through. We have to believe that.”

  This time when the door opens Mr. Fulton walks in wearing his police uniform. He’s not alone.

  Mr. Fulton is all serious when he approaches me. “Ginnie, I’m sorry for all the bad luck you’re having.”

  I give a humorless laugh. “You and me both.”

  “We do have a few questions if you’re up to answering.”

  “Come on, Ted,” Dad says. “Do we have to do this? Ginnie’s worried about her grandmother.”

  “This isn’t about Ginnie’s discovery of the body. It is concerning Rose.” Mr. Fulton asks me, “You had made a 9-1-1 call not twenty minutes earlier. Can you explain those events?”

  Dad looks from Mr. Fulton to me.

  “A man came over to the house. Gran told me to call the police. Then she stepped outside to talk to him.” I pinky-promised Gran to keep the secret, but I can’t lie. Not about this. Not with Gran in the hospital. “I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the man appeared angry. He was pointing his finger at her. She kept shaking her head. So, I placed the call and ran outside to tell the guy to hit the road.”

  “How did he threaten her?”

  “I overheard Gran saying ‘Stop,’ and he said something like ‘All the deals are off.’ When he left, Gran took the phone from me.”

  “What are you talking about Virginia? This sounds like something off of Law and Order.” Dad is acting more shocked than I anticipated. Somehow that makes me even more nervous.

  “It’s exactly as I said. I don’t understand it either. She told me I couldn’t tell you or Aunt Sue until she had a chance to explain things.”

  “What things?” Dad and Mr. Fulton ask at the same time.

  “I’m not sure. She didn’t tell me. Last night she said something about people wanting her property. Some Indians said it was their property, and well, maybe that’s who showed up today.” Well, I just let the cat out of the proverbial bag. But if it gives them a clue to some bad guy, then I’ll do what it takes. Somehow that guy is responsible for what happened to Gran.

  Mr. Fulton asks me for a description of the man, and we spend some time going over the particulars of what he looks like and the make of his truck. They end up leaving, but Mr. Fulton gives me his card and tells me to call him if I think of anything more.

  The blonde
lady who came with Dad now enters the waiting room. She goes to him and rests her hand on his arm. “She’s stable.”

  The gesture seems more intimate than it should be. Who is this lady?

  Dad sighs in relief and hugs the woman. Not the kind of hug where there’s a pat or two on the back, but the kind of hug that shows there’s more of that when they’re alone.

  Maybe because I’m tired or because I saw a dead body and an unconscious grandmother all within a week’s time, but the sight of them makes me really pissy. “Hello, I’m Ginnie, Sam’s daughter. If you can release my father, I’d be able to shake your hand.”

  They unglue themselves from each other. Dad doesn’t seem sheepish or embarrassed. If anything, his eyes are doing that warning look with me. So, I look away and glare at the woman.

  “Virginia, this is Laura. She’s Gran’s family practitioner and an old friend of mine.”

  “Hello, Virginia,” she says and extends her hand.

  “It’s Ginnie.” I shake her hand.

  She smiles, but I don’t. It may be her long golden hair in all its perfection or her bright blue eyes perfectly outlined with eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow or her high cheekbones or the fact that she has the body of a lithe model, but I don’t like her. At all.

  The other doctor enters the waiting room—the real doctor from the emergency room—and I step around the Laura woman and go to him. “How is she?”

  “She’s stable.”

  I act like that’s not exactly what Laura said.

  “What happened?” Dad comes up beside me.

  “Hard to say. We’ll run some more tests overnight to see if it was a minor heart attack, but she has a large bruise on her temple.”

  “Someone hit her?”

  “I don’t think so. She passed out, fell, and hit her head. That’s why she was unconscious. Now we have to find out why she passed out. So if it’s all right, we’ll go ahead and run those tests and rule out some things.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief and make a mental promise to the good Lord that I will attend mass at least once a week with Gran as an expression of thanks.

  Dad finishes talking with the doctor, and then places a call to Aunt Sue. “Hey there, Sue,” he says. “No need to rush up here. She’s stable…No, no, it’s okay, I promise…You were already coming up tomorrow. That will be fine. I’ll stay with her tonight…” When he ends the call, he says to me, “Why don’t you go back to the house? I’ll stay here with Gran. You’ve had enough happen.”