Lady Next Door and Other Stories

by Girard, Dara

  She shook her head. “You’ll see.”

  Megan glanced at Adam’s bag with interest. “Is he spending the night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great!” She took his bag before he could protest. “You can be my warrior. I was going to ask Dad, but you’ll be better.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on,” she said then led him upstairs and Judy quickly followed.

  His aunt nodded pleased. “She knows it too.”

  “Aunty--.”

  “A Violet child is a child of great wisdom. Sometimes they can uncover the deep desires of your heart, or help you heal from your lingering fears. They can even bring peace if you let them. That’s something this house needs.”

  “This house needs new siding and flooring not another occupant.”

  “Don’t throw this gift away.”

  Jonah sighed. “Our place is crowded enough and you know how Claire is when she wants something.”

  Her tone became firm. “You’re the man of the house.”

  Jonah laughed. “Is there such a thing anymore?”

  “Only if you choose it.”

  She was right. He’d let his wife rule him for years because it had been easier that way. But the child needed a home, a place to stay. He was his nephew. He could give Adam a few days and perhaps Claire would get used to the idea. But there was something strange about the boy. He was too quiet and knowing. He was the same way at dinner as he politely ate with manners Jonah knew he’d developed on his own. His sister would never have taken the time to teach a child such studious etiquette –the way he placed the napkin on his lap and ate his soup without slurping. No lifting up the bowl to get the last drop. He was so mannered and precise that Jonah almost felt like a klutz around him. Yes, he was a strange child indeed.

  ***

  “I want him gone by morning,” Claire said that night as they prepared for bed. She lathered moisturizer on her face.

  Jonah watched his wife engage in her nightly ritual and sighed. “Why?”

  “I told you why.” She squirted the lotion into her palm then lathered her arms. “I don’t like him. There’s something wrong with him.”

  “The girls don’t think so.”

  “They’re children.” She lathered her legs.

  “Aunty doesn’t think so.”

  Claire scowled at him. “She’s an old woman.”

  Jonah took a deep breath. He briefly thought of closing his eyes and praying, but decided to just say what needed to be said. “I think we should give him a few days.”

  His wife looked at him with outrage. “What!”

  “Claire, I--”

  “Don’t you care what I think?” She pounded her chest. “How I feel?”

  It was a moment he’d been trying to avoid. Her anger always made him feel small. Guilty. “Yes, honey I do. It’s just—” He heard a knock on the door and said, “Come in,” glad for the reprieve. Adam stepped into the room. “Yes?”

  “Can I get a glass of milk?” he asked.

  Claire shook her head. “No.”

  “Yes,” Jonah countered.

  “He might wet the bed.”

  “He won’t.”

  Claire walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  Jonah turned to Adam. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” he said then went to the bathroom door ready to knock, but then he stopped and listened. He didn’t hear anything breaking or the sound of her crying so that was a good sign. He would deal with her later.

  He turned and grabbed his robe and left unaware that the bathroom door had opened a crack and the vicious glare of his wife followed him as he walked out the door.

  ***

  Jonah went downstairs and saw the porch light on. Adam stood in the front yard looking up at the house. Jonah noticed his pajama top was too big, Uncle Dennis must have given him a hand me down. He watched the boy touch the railing then the post, looking up at a window and for a moment Jonah saw the house through new eyes. He didn’t see the ugly siding or that the floors needed a new polish, but the wild wisteria clinging between the railing, the sturdy porch stairs, and the bright welcoming windows. At that moment, Adam made him feel proud of the life he’d built for himself and his family.

  Adam saw him, but didn’t seem startled. “I was just looking around.”

  “Come inside and get your milk.”

  Once Jonah had given him his milk, Adam took a sip then set it down and said, “I won’t get to stay, will I?” It was more a statement than a question.

  “I don’t know.” Jonah hesitated then said, “Would you like something to eat?”

  Adam shook his head but Jonah didn’t believe him and gave him a maroon cookie. He sent it in front of him. Adam’s eyes remained lowered. He took a sip of the milk and then bit into the cookie and chewed. His face lit up.

  Jonah couldn’t help a smile. “You like it?”

  Adam lifted his gaze. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever had.”

  Those amazing, beautiful eyes hit Jonah with a pain he didn’t know was possible and tears threatened to choke him. He cleared his throat and gripped his hands, desperate to control his response to the boy. He remembered being a young boy. He’d always had a home and a place to belong. Something reached deep inside him--a sense of protectiveness, a determination. This boy, this child of his blood, would never be without a home again. In his shining eyes he saw the man he wanted to be. The man he needed to be. In a moment he became the man he was meant to be: A man who would listen to his wife but not be dominated by her.

  “I want to show you how to make them,” he said remembering when his father had said the same words to him. He knew it was late and the boy should be in bed, but he didn’t care. The boy needed good memories and he would start creating them right now. He took out the ingredients and patiently showed Adam how to make the cookies and soon the scent of melting sugar and coconuts filled the kitchen. Once they’d cooled, he let Adam take the first bite.

  The boy smiled and that smile burrowed its way into Jonah’s heart forever. That night Jonah tucked him in. “Sleep well, Adam. You’re home now,” he said.

  Jonah returned to his bedroom because he knew he should, not because he wanted to. The lights were off, but he knew Claire wasn’t asleep. “Adam stays.”

  She turned the lights on. “No.”

  He kept his voice low. “Yes. He stays.”

  Claire opened her mouth to scream, but Jonah’s steady gaze forced it closed. She knew she couldn’t fight him. He’d never had that expression before. He’d never opposed her and suddenly he loomed very large. He’d never appeared so tall or strong before. She wouldn’t fight him tonight. She’d get rid of the bewitching boy some other way.

  ***

  “Oh no!” Jonah said when he looked up from his morning paper to see a woman in a large hat walking up the drive with two women beside her. The past week with Adam had been good. He fit in easily and Jonah had prepared for a relaxing Saturday with his family, but he suddenly felt as if his luck had changed.

  “What is it?” Claire said as her husband quickly removed his breakfast dishes while his children and Aunt stared at him with curiosity.

  “Mother Shea is coming,” he said as if their home was about to crash around them. Mother Shea was a prominent resident in their community who could make their lives either pleasant or miserable according to her mood.

  Megan jumped up. “Quick Adam, we have to hide!” she said then raced out of the room with Judy scurrying behind before anyone could stop them.

  “Are you sure she’s coming here?” Claire asked.

  Jonah folded up his paper. “Yes, I just saw her.”

  “What could she want with us?”

  “I don’t know.” He glanced at his Aunty who was oddly serene, but before he could question her the doorbell rang. They both froze. When it rang again, Claire shoved him towards the door. “Go answer it while I go get some refreshments.”

  Jonah sighed then answered the door. Mother She
a stood with her large feathered hat blowing in the breeze her arms folded. Jonah plastered on a smile. “Mother Shea, what a nice surprise.”

  “We came to see him.”

  “Who?”

  “Him.”

  “The Violet child,” Sister Walker said when Jonah continued to look blank.

  Jonah suddenly understood why his Aunt had looked so serene. “Aunty!”

  His aunt hustled into the foyer looking innocent although he knew she wasn’t. “Yes?”

  “You’ve been talking.”

  “I only told a few people.”

  Jonah briefly shut his eyes and groaned.

  “I think I’m catching a chill,” Mother Shea said.

  Claire came into the hallway and opened the door wider. “Excuse my husband, he’s forgotten his manners. Please come in. There are refreshments in the living room.”

  The three women walked past and Jonah closed the door, giving his wife a look of surprise. “The living room? I thought you usually met in the kitchen.”

  “Be quiet. I want them to feel welcome.”

  “Why?”

  “Because maybe one of them will take him off our hands.”

  “He doesn’t need to be taken off our hands.”

  “But I--”

  “He’s staying,” Jonah said then walked past her to go get Adam.

  “We’ll see,” Claire said in a soft voice.

  ***

  When Adam came into the living room, the three women stared at him with interest.

  “He’s a meely maga thing, isn’t he?” Sister Bernice said, although she had as much fat as a paper clip. “Don’t you feed him?”

  “We feed him well,” Aunty said.

  “My bwoy was a lot bigger when he was his age,” Sister Walker said.

  “He’d still a lot bigger than most men.”

  “He’s big boned.”

  “Then he must have the bones of an elephant,” Aunty said.

  Sister Walker bristled. “He’s not handsome either.”

  “He’ll grow into his looks.”

  Jonah shifted in his chair annoyed by the criticism, but knowing that was their way. “He’s a good boy and causes no trouble,” he said. “I’m glad he’s with us.”

  “Who’s his father?” Mother Shea asked.

  “We don’t know,” Claire said in a low voice.

  “The only father that matters is the one in heaven,” Aunty said.

  Mother Shea pulled a yellow scarf out of her large handbag. “Sister Swedan, I got this for you. It’s expensive, but I thought of you when I bought it.”

  Aunty reached for it, but Adam reached forward and placed his hand on it and shook his head. “No.”

  Mother Shea stared at him. “What?”

  “No. It’s not expensive and you weren’t thinking of her when you bought it.”

  Jonah cleared his throat. “Adam, that’s not how you address an elder.”

  “But she’s lying.”

  “See?” Claire snapped her fingers. “Didn’t I tell you he was trouble? Mother Shea, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Mother Shea said taking the scarf back. “He’s right.”

  They stared at her.

  She nodded and stood. “He’s definitely a Violet child. I just wanted to make sure.”

  With that announcement soon rumors and whispers spread through Hampsford about the Swedans’ Violet child. Adam became popular throughout the community gaining a special position in the church.

  Claire’s annoyance grew. Wherever she went everyone spoke about Adam. She used to be a prominent person in the community, her husband a success in business, her children admired for their intelligence and good works, but now nobody cared. All that mattered was Adam, a little nobody with strange eyes and wisdom beyond his years. She tried to convince others to take him, but nothing worked. She ignored him, but no one else seemed to notice. He was popular at school, adored at home and when he came down with the flu everyone fussed over him.

  Then one day Claire saw the opportunity she’d been looking for. She caught Adam taking Jonah’s pocket watch from inside the curio in the dining room, and hold it in his palm. Weeks ago she’d overheard Jonah tell the boy how it had been bought by his grandfather and that he was to never touch it without his permission. As she watched the boy carefully place the item back into the curio a smile spread across her face.

  ***

  When Jonah returned from work that evening, he was surprised to be met by Mother Shea, Pastor Curtis, his aunt, Claire and Adam. “What’s going on?”

  “I think you should sit down,” Claire said.

  He slowly did. “What happened? Is something wrong?”

  “When the maid was cleaning the house she noticed that your pocket watch was missing. We searched and searched and she found it in Adam’s bag.”

  Jonah stared at Adam stunned. “Adam, can you explain this?”

  “No sir.”

  “Did you take it?”

  Claire expected him to deny it so that she could tell her story of how she’d caught him, but he looked at her and then Jonah and said, “Yes, sir.”

  Silence fell.

  “Think about your words carefully,” the pastor said.

  “I have, sir.”

  When Jonah remained mute, Claire said, “So you’re a thief. That’s why your mother got rid of you.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Aunty shook her head. “He doesn’t mean it.”

  “Why would he lie about it?”

  “Come on, Adam. Tell us the truth.”

  “I took the pocket watch without permission,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you just ask me?” Jonah asked feeling oddly betrayed.

  “Because that’s what thieves do,” Claire said. “Do you see my problem, Pastor? Because he’s special doesn’t mean he deserves special treatment.”

  Jonah stood and walked over to the curio. “It could have been a mistake.”

  “It wasn’t a mistake. He’s old enough to know better.”

  “Be quiet,” Jonah said.

  Claire raised her voice. “Are you going to take his side over mine? Your wife? As he ages can we trust him? What other things will he steal? One day he could steal one of our daughters’ innocence.”

  Jonah’s eyes blazed in anger. “Never say that again. He’s my sister’s child. Things like that don’t happen in our family.”

  “They happen in every family.”

  “Not every family and especially not mine. Don’t throw the shame of your past on this boy.”

  Tears formed in Claire’s eyes. “Shame? You think I should be ashamed?”

  Jonah sighed with regret. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. But the past is over.”

  She pointed at Adam. “You’ll let him come between us?”

  “You’re making this bigger than it needs to be.”

  “Because you’re blind.”

  Pastor Curtis held up his hands. “Perhaps you both need a break. Old Brother Newman could use some help around the house.”

  “And Sister Margret could use someone to run errands for her,” Mother Shea suggested.

  Jonah shook his head. He didn’t want his nephew used as an errand boy or a companion to an old man. He needed a home, but was his the right one? Did he have the right to ignore his wife’s fears? His daughters’ safety meant everything to him and Adam had disappointed him once. He thought he knew his nephew, but now didn’t trust himself.

  “We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” Jonah said.

  Claire stepped towards him. “But--”

  Jonah held up his hand. “Enough. Pastor Curtis, Mother Shea, thank you for coming. I’ll call you with my decision.” He walked them to the door.

  Claire fought back a smile of triumph. She’d won. She’d put doubt in her husband’s mind and within days the boy would be gone. She saw Adam sink into a chair, his gaze focused on the ground then he looked up.

  Not
with accusation, but knowing. A wise knowing, stripping her bare and making the expensive clothes she wore feel like rags. He knew she wanted to get rid of him and he was letting her win, turning her victory into something ugly and hollow.

  “Stop looking at me,” she said.

  But his gaze remained steady.

  She crossed the room and shook him, still his gaze didn’t waver. She struck him hard across the face. His eyes filled with tears and fell down his face. One tear dropped on the back of her hand. She released him and stumbled back as the memories of her past came flooding back.

  She remembered when an older cousin of hers had come to stay. He was fourteen and she was nine and everyone thought he was so wonderful while he made her life a nightmare. She remembered the different ways she tried to keep him out of her bedroom. The threats he told her if she spoke a word about anything. She remembered always feeling dirty no matter how much she bathed. She remembered the look of disgust on her mother’s face when she told her, her secret.

  “You’re worthless and you’re just jealous because everyone likes him more than you. Keep your filthy lies to yourself.” She remembered how relieved she felt when he left to join the army. How she vowed that no man would make her feel afraid again—she would always rule. She would be the head. She would make the decisions. Men could never be trusted and boys were never innocent. She’d hardened herself and acquired all that she thought mattered so that no one could take advantage of her or make her feel small again.

  Fortunately, sweet Jonah Swedan was perfect for her. He took her tantrums and never fought her, until now. Because of this boy. But as she looked at Adam’s tear stained face, she didn’t see triumph, but cruelty. Here was innocence and she was destroying it, just as her innocence had been destroyed—with deliberate lies. How long had she let her anger against her cousin fester? How long had she let what he’d done to her rule her life until she now found herself flinging his dirty acts on a boy who’d done nothing to her?

  In Adam’s eyes she saw herself: The pomposity, the arrogance, the past she’d wanted to forget. This child had forced her to face the woman she’d become and the girl she had buried. It shamed her. She realized that she’d never hated him, she hated that he made all that she worshiped seem meaningless. The position at church and her reputation. Instead, he enjoyed the simplicity of life. He made everything around him become what it truly was. She fell to her knees and wept. “I’m sorry.”