Sweet Hush

by Deborah Smith

  Edwina smiled.

  I didn’t trust it.

  AL, EDWINA, AND I sat on handsome leather couches around an antique coffee table that probably cost more than all my heirloom living room furniture put together. We pretended to sip coffee. Jakobek kept his distance, standing over by a window with his arms crossed and his big shoulders loose, his legs apart and his back to the outside world. A protector’s stance. A loner’s.

  On Al and Edwina’s faces I saw everything I felt—worry, love, frustration, shock. I didn’t doubt they were loving parents who had been slapped in the head and knocked off balance. I knew I looked the same way.

  “We agree then,” Al said. “We believe this marriage has very little chance of succeeding, but we’ll present a united front of support.”

  I nodded. “I swear to you both—I’ll do everything I can to help mend the breach between you and Eddie. And as I said before, you’ll always be welcome at the Hollow.”

  “Thank you,” Al said. Beside him, Edwina nodded and smiled some more. I didn’t believe her attitude for one second. But I admired Al Jacobs, the way he spoke to me, the solid and deliberate kindness of him. Al gestured around us. “I doubt you’d want us there during your peak business time. The friends who own this estate outfitted it especially for my visits. There are more security systems in these walls and on the grounds than you can ever imagine. That’s what it takes to guard a President. God help us. With the state of the world the way it is today, my own daughter is in danger every time she’s in my presence. I put her in jeopardy just by being in the same room with her. She may be safer in your Hollow than anywhere else in the world. We have to admit our daughter hated the spotlight, and that she has good reasons for wanting to live her life—and raise her child—far away from us.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Edwina’s face tighten like a wrung towel, the fake smile stretching to its limits. I stood. “Edwina, can you and I take a walk? We need a private mother talk. Can we do that without setting off alarms?”

  She stood. “Only the man-made kind.”

  I nodded. A high-voltage power line held less danger.

  OUR WALK CONSISTED of moving stiffly, side-by-side, in the cold pre-dawn mountain air, down a manicured path lined with landscape lights then into the forest to a small gazebo next to a koi pond with a natural rock waterfall. “I like fish,” I said. “I have a pond in my backyard.”

  “I know,” she said.

  She knew. Nosy hightoned bitch. We stood there in the gazebo with only the path lights to lighten the darkness and the splashing fountain to keep the angry silence at bay. “Don’t step off the path,” Edwina finally warned. “There are infrared sensors everywhere.”

  As if she might make me run. I hunched my shoulders. “I don’t doubt you live in a glass bowl and everyone around it is armed with rocks. But is all of this high-tech paranoia really necessary?”

  “Last week, in Israel, a man tried to plant plastic explosives in the cars of my husband’s motorcade. The Secret Service caught him. And that’s just the latest incident. My husband risks assassination every day.”

  “You mean those stories don’t show up in the news?”

  “Of course not. It happens all the time. The incidents aren’t publicized. The public rarely finds out about an attack on the President unless the situation explodes in front of television cameras. That’s why most of the world’s most profound political, social, economic and military secrets remain secret. It’s the relatively petty little personal secrets that escape. Those can be excruciating, but they hurt only the people closest to their epicenter.”

  “I’m sorry. I can see that you’re worried. Scared.”

  “Scared? No. Horrified.” She pivoted toward me. “There is evil in the world that can’t be reasoned with. I believe that more and more as time goes by, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family as best I can. Nicholas has always understood that the ends justify the means. He saved mine and Eddie’s lives years ago because he didn’t hesitate to kill for our protection. At the time, I was shocked and confused by his brutal judgment. I was naïve. I doubt he’d believe me if I told him so. But he was right.”

  A chill ran down my spine. “You see me and my son as one more threat you have to deal with. And you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we don’t hurt Eddie.”

  “That’s absolutely correct.”

  “All right, so let’s cut to the chase. Just between you and me. What’s said here goes no farther. You’re smiling for your husband and saying all the right things, but I don’t buy it. Talk.”

  She walked around me, studying me, deciding what to risk, circling me. I turned with her motion the way a cat swivels when another cat stalks it. “Just between us?” she said.

  “You have my word.”

  She halted. “I intend to find out everything about you. Every nasty little family secret that might crop up to hurt my daughter’s good name. Every embarrassing weakness I can use to persuade her that she doesn’t want to be part of your family. Because above all, I want my daughter be so disillusioned by her new husband and his in-laws that she bolts from this marriage. I want her and my grandchild safely under my wing. I want her future restored as quickly as possible.”

  My head buzzed. “Go on,” I finally said.

  “We live in a world where nothing’s a secret, Hush. Al and I have been humiliated more than once by the media. Hounded. Our most harmless personal intimacies detailed. Al’s sister had an ugly, unfortunate history . . . and so does Nicholas. Private matters, but we can’t keep them private. No one is safe, anymore. Medical records. Police records. Financial records. All can be had at the click of a button on a computer. God help those of us who show our faces above the crowd. The Japanese have a saying: The nail that sticks up gets hammered first. It’s so true. You have my sympathy. But you also have my warning. Don’t fuck with me, Hush. And don’t try to hide any secrets about your life. Because if they come back to haunt my daughter’s good name, I’ll have no mercy.”

  She stepped close to me. “You have to tell me, Hush. Tell me everything I don’t know about you. Tell me if there’s anything you’ve had to hide. Maybe I can help you.”

  “I don’t trust you enough to trust you anymore,” I said. “So I’ll take my chances with what’s left of my privacy.”

  She stiffened. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get my daughter back and protect her best interests. Even if it means sacrificing you and your son. Make no mistake.”

  “I’ve only made one,” I said. “And that was coming here with the idea we could make friends.”

  HOODED BY THE BLUE, pre-dawn light, I drove to the top of Chocinaw Mountain after returning from Highlands. A cold breeze and the eternal stillness of bedrock surrounded me. The scent and feel and loneliness became the endless dome of the world. I parked a truck with a ‘Hush’ license tag and walked over to the steel guardrail without spiritual or material protection. Any early-morning neighbor headed for the flatlands outside these mountains would have recognized me and my car, but might only mention to family and friends how Hush was up on Chocinaw speaking to Davy’s spirit, telling him about the amazing new circumstances of our son’s life. Seeded with the right mix of hearsay and assumption, gossip could work in a person’s favor. I had been fearfully lucky in such regards over the years.

  But my luck had run out.

  I stared down through the boulders and laurel at the tall granite stone that marked Davy’s death place. He still might drag Davis and me down there with him, but I’d be damned if I’d let him do it without a fight. I climbed over the guardrail, snagging my nice pumps on the blunt rocks and twisting branches off the laurel, losing a shoe but not even stopping to hunt for it in the dim light. I scrambled down a hundred feet into the maw of that rough divot in the mountain’s side, seeing the ghost of Davy’s body twisted in
side his high-powered car.

  When I’d found him that day I reached one hand inside and spread my fingers across his face, stroking the cheeks and lips of the handsomest man in Chocinaw County, the dead face of my lover, my enemy, my husband, the other half of my son. “Oh, Davy, I’m sorry it turned out this way,” I whispered.

  And I cried. There was no doubt in my mind he’d killed himself because I’d found out things about him he couldn’t abide any better than I could. After I’d abided so much else, and he’d let me.

  Now I reached the bottom of the ravine soaked in sweat, sprinkled with debris, heartsick and scared and furious. “Dammit, Davy.” I drew back one arm and slapped the towering granite monument so hard my bones jolted. Pain shot up to my right shoulder. Holding my arm, I sat down at the marker’s base, then hunched over and rocked slowly. My shoulder ached and my head swam. Another day was starting and I could only get up and keep going.

  I didn’t hear Jakobek until he laid a hand on my shoulder. “Easy,” he urged.

  I shrank back in fury and humiliation. “Don’t touch me. Stop tracking me everywhere. And don’t tell me I can trust you, either.”

  He dropped to his heels in front of me, his expression dark and bewildered. “I don’t know what Edwina said to you, but it’s nothing she shared with me. Or the President.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You told me you’re an expert at picking out dishonest men.”

  “That’s not quite what I said.”

  “It’s what you meant. Look at me. Tell me if you really think I’m here to spy on you, to hurt you, to hurt your son. I could have done a thousand things differently, if I wanted to strongarm you. Or him.”

  “I’ve heard you’re no better than a cold-blooded professional killer. Are you? A heartless killer?”

  The air stilled between us. “Not heartless,” he said quietly.

  That needed a breath or two. Then, “Did the President and First Lady send you here to scare me and my son if need be?”

  “They sent me to do whatever needed doing, if Eddie was in trouble.”

  “But you don’t approve of the marriage any more than they do. Any more than I do.”

  “From the day Eddie was born I swore I’d protect her. That includes protecting everything she holds dear—meaning her new husband and his family. As long as she wants to be your son’s wife I’m here to support her. And since your her mother-in-law, you’re part of the package.” He paused. “Maybe I want you to think as highly as me as your bees did.”

  “I don’t know what to think.”

  He blew out a long breath. “Tell me what Edwina said.”

  “It’s confidential.”

  “That bad?”

  I couldn’t cover my misery quickly enough. He studied my face and said “Goddammit,” softly. Before I could say anything else he stood and helped me up by my good arm. He began brushing leaves from my hair, saying nothing, frowning down at me and studying my expression for clues to my changing moods. A mystery, himself. I should have been afraid. Tall man, still a stranger, careless but precise and so quiet even the mountain had not been able to hide me from him.

  The wind rose, curling around him and me, singing coldly to bring us together for warmth. I looked up at him feverishly for a moment, then turned and climbed the boulders and laurel with bad grace, clumsy without both shoes, my injured shoulder feeling torn. Jakobek climbed behind me. I stumbled and felt his broad hand bracing my back.

  When we reached the roadside he vaulted the guard rail then picked me up and lifted me over it. I’m not a delicately sized woman, and he startled me with his easy strength. He didn’t set me down immediately, and I didn’t ask him to. He stood there, holding me, looking at me, and me at him. “I want you to believe in me, and I need to believe in you,” I said.

  “Someone needs to.”

  “That’s a strange answer, Jakob.”

  “What did you call me?”

  “I . . . can’t keep calling you by your last name. Jakob has a Biblical ring to it. Nick’s too hard. Maybe if I give you a spiritual-sounding name, you’ll prove you’re a spiritual man, Jakob.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  “All right. We’re in this together, Jakob, just as you said the other night. I’m not willing to work against my son’s marriage, even if I think I’m doing it for his best interests.”

  Jakobek nodded. “Then we’re a team. We support the marriage. We let it run its course. We don’t get in the way.” He hesitated. “And we don’t let Edwina get in the way, either.”

  The quiet that settled between us was as bewildered and potent as any silence could be. The rising wind pulled at us, and I heard my husband’s sharp spirit in it. “Put me down, now,” I ordered quietly. “And leave me to drive myself back when I’m ready. I came up here to talk to my dead, Jakob.”

  He nodded, set me down, and stepped back. “Just remember. He’s dead. But I’m alive. And I listen.”

  Chapter 12

  ONE HOUR OF SLEEP, ten cups of coffee, a pack of herbal wake-up pills, a double dose of prescription arthritis medication for my arm, a cold slice of apple pie and one long, sobbing shower. Yours truly, the new mother-in-law, was finally ready to fake happiness. Jakobek wisely kept to himself.

  “Thank you for meeting with my parents,” Eddie said quietly. “Nicky says it went diplomatically.”

  “We agreed to support your decisions.”

  Eddie sighed. Davis frowned. “We didn’t expect everyone to jump up and down with joy, but a little enthusiasm would be nice. I’m telling you: If you want us to leave—”

  “No. This is your home. You can stay here. And that’s final.”

  I walked outside. Eddie and Davis followed. I spread a handful of pellets on the water of the small pond beneath the backyard trees, while they stood awkwardly by, trying to be nice to me by following me around and saying the right things. The rising sun cast beautiful streaks across the shallow, shimmering water. Davy had built the pond for me as an anniversary gift, complete with two small gold-and-white Comets that quickly, under my care, grew to a foot-long, each, and began breeding more Comets, which I sold.

  “You’re greedy, Mother Nature,” Davy said when that happened. “You can’t allow a single living soul on this place to just be for the sake of pleasure. It has to make money or make you proud. If you could figure out how to make a profit off ‘em, you’d have given me more children by now.”

  “Mother?” Davis said. “Are you all right?” Pain shot up my injured arm; remembering Davy’s words, I flinched and dropped the bag of pellets. Davis scooped it up. “Are you having trouble with your bad shoulder?”

  “A little. Just the usual.”

  He turned to Eddie. “Mother went deer hunting with Dad a few years ago. She didn’t hunt, but she went because he asked her to keep him company. She slipped and fell out of the hunting stand. He carried her two miles back to the truck. He waited on her hand and foot for the next week.”

  Eddie looked from him to me with gleaming eyes. “What wonderful memories you must have of Davis’s father. Those are exactly the kind of memories Davis and I expect to build here.”

  I only wished the hunting story had been true. I put my hands on my hips and took several deep breaths. “Let me get something straight, here. You two are planning to go back to Harvard after the baby is born, aren’t you?”

  Davis said nothing. Eddie smiled sadly. “It’s not what we want, anymore. Either of us.”

  My skin shrank, and fairy lights danced in front of my eyes. I sat down on a bench and dropped the fish food again. This time, Davis didn’t bother to pick up the bag. He sat down beside me. “We’re asking you for jobs here at the farm. Jobs, and a home here for us and our child, and a future helping you build an even bigger future for the family
business. You’ve always said this business would be mine someday, if I wanted it. Well, I do. Let me start working in that direction.”

  “We have so many ideas,” Eddie put in eagerly. “So many projects and dreams and plans. I want to get to know real people, Mrs. Thackery. I want to make a difference in a community where I’m appreciated for my own skills and hard work, not the fame of my parents or their political power. Please don’t be disappointed by our decision not to return to Harvard. A college education cannot possibly replace life experiences.”

  I nearly choked. What I would have given to have their opportunities in the great wide world—to be their age, again, with no mouths to feed but my own and no apples waiting impatiently for harvest, and no responsibilities except to chase a young soldier named Jakobek—strange, how that thought got in there. I loved the Hollow, but I would have loved Harvard, too. And Jakobek. “Mother?” Davis asked again. “Are you all right?”

  I shook my head. “If you want to do justice to this legacy then go out there in the wide world and make yourself so smart and important you’ll be able to come home some day and take care of this land forever. Not just grubbing along one year at a time, or even one generation at a time, the way we’ve always done. Davis, you can’t give up all your other opportunities to settle here now!”

  “I don’t need a degree to run a successful business, Mother. You’re the perfect example of that.” He paused. “What it boils down to is this. We’re asking for your blessings.”

  “You’ll have to earn them.”

  “Then we will.”

  And I may have to earn them all over again, myself.

  EDDIE SPOKE TO her mother and father by phone. “Yes, Mother, I believe you when you say you’re happy for me. No, Dad, I don’t need for you to visit me. Yes, I believe you want to. But you’ll draw a mob of reporters and so much security you’ll disrupt apple season. And I’m fine. Don’t worry. I love you, too. I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement on my choices.”

  At the end of conversation she put the phone down and cried. “I would have liked for Dad to walk me down the aisle, I admit,” she moaned, while Davis hovered over her, saying soothing, husband-type things, which didn’t help. Jakobek and I traded troubled frowns.