Three Can Keep a Secret

by Judy Clemens

  “Don’t worry,” Lucy said. “I’ll pay for them myself.” She hesitated, looking uncomfortable.

  “What?”

  “Um, can I use your truck? It’s going to be a few days till my insurance money comes in.”

  Once again, I’d forgotten her car was demolished. I would’ve offered her Howie’s truck, except it was still on the disabled list. I dug into my pocket and tossed her my keys. “Grab me some scrapple, will you? And apple butter?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Should I get a funny cake, too, to make the gorge-fest complete?”

  I groaned with exaggerated pleasure. It had been too long since I’d had that Pennsylvania Dutch treat—white cake in a pie crust, with a gooey layer of chocolate at the bottom.

  “And meanwhile,” Lucy said, “you need to get some rest. You’re looking mighty pale.”

  I was feeling mighty pale, so I went in to recharge my Motrin and get some lunch, breaking up the time by making unsuccessful phone calls to Lenny’s house, the Barn, and the police station. I saved room for the funny cake.

  The rest of the day passed slowly. Lucy, having reverted to the quiet, private person I’d first hired, worked on her party, and I did what I could to help. We did the milking together, Tess in the corner with Queenie, and finally retired to the house to enjoy a macaroni casserole Belle had brought. We heard nothing from Lenny.

  A call to Bart assured me he was still on the mend, but he hadn’t heard from his errant partner, either. The anxiety would do nothing to help Bart heal, so I decided I wouldn’t call him again until I knew something for certain.

  Another night of nerve-driven dreams slogged by, and Saturday morning lasted forever. By afternoon I gave myself over to the plans for the evening and worked on auto-pilot, helping Lucy pack a trailer with straw, to be pulled by a tractor at the party. We cleaned the calf hutches, knowing people would want to pet the babies; Tess brushed Queenie to within an inch of the dog’s patience; and Zach rode his bike over and mowed the lawn. Most of the tornado debris was cordoned off at the foundations of the garage and feed barns, the clean-up crew having gotten the majority of the yard cleared off the other day. The farm looked as good as it was going to get.

  Still no word from Lenny.

  At five-o’clock Lucy fired up the grill and Tess—excited beyond words that her relatives were coming—helped me set the picnic table with condiments and picnic foods. Two huge drink coolers, borrowed from Sellersville Mennonite, sat at the end of the table—one with water, one with lemonade.

  Now all we needed were the people.

  Lucy waited out the last few minutes in stone silence, cracking her knuckles, her neck, her back—anything that would pop. Tess danced around, eager and happy, oblivious to the tension permeating the air. I sat on a picnic table bench, my elbows resting on the table, trying to look nonchalant. I’m not sure it worked.

  Abe was the first to arrive, heralded by Queenie’s barking. Ma sat in the passenger seat of his Camry, and Mallory, Zach’s sister, opened the back door. I looked at them with surprise. I hadn’t bothered to ask Lucy who all she’d invited. I guessed I’d find out soon.

  Tess went running for the lane, Queenie at her heels, when an older model Accord drove in. The smiling couple that emerged had to be Lucy’s parents. The woman was an older version of Lucy, and the man really did look like the guy on the Herr’s potato chip bag.

  I walked toward them. “Somebody’s sure glad to see you.”

  They laughed, Tess giggling in their three-way embrace.

  “We wanted to come earlier this week,” Lucy’s mother said, “but Lucy asked us to wait a while, until she felt settled, and we wanted to respect her wishes. I’m Lois Ruth. This is Ron.”

  I shook hands with both of them, glad to finally see people from Lucy’s past with nothing but gentleness in their eyes. Lucy, finished welcoming Ma and Abe, ran toward her parents. She joined in the multiple-person hug, and I swallowed the envy that clogged my throat.

  I stepped back, irritated at the stinging of my eyes, and watched as another car parked alongside the drive. Detective Willard, casual in jeans and a polo shirt, stepped out, followed by his son. I walked toward them.

  “Hey there, Brady,” I said. “Good to see you.”

  He waved at me shyly, ducking his head.

  “Detective,” I said. “Didn’t know you were on the invitation list. Glad you could make it.”

  He smiled. “My wife and daughter planned a shopping trip to the King of Prussia mall. Brady and I were glad for an excuse to get out of it.”

  “I bet.”

  “Besides, I might get to see some interesting alternative law enforcement.”

  I shrugged, hoping things worked out the way we wanted them to.

  “By the way,” Willard said, reaching into his car. “Here’s the blanket. Not sure what Lucy had in mind, but she asked me to bring it along.”

  I took the garbage bag and stashed it under one of the picnic tables, already thinking of ways to use it.

  Queenie was going nuts, now, as the in-laws’ powder blue Buick, Uncle Scott’s truck, and a van—from Yoder Mennonite Church, according to the logo on the driver’s door—drove in. I smiled when I saw Noah’s face peering at me from behind the windshield. I crossed my arms and watched as the teenagers poured out the side door. Noah’s MYFers, I assumed. Any number of them fit my recollection of the vandals from the other night. I wondered which ones would actually be the guilty parties. If, of course, I was right about that.

  I also couldn’t help but notice that while Yoder folks were self-proclaimed conservatives, their kids didn’t hesitate to wear the latest fashions. The girls exposed way more of their abdomens than most parents would like, and I was afraid the boys would soon lose the long shorts that threatened to slide down their backsides. The girls hadn’t skimped on makeup, either, from what I could see. Yikes.

  Uncle Scott’s kids jumped down from the back doors of the Silverado, and his wife—a pretty woman wearing a yellow sundress—held onto his hand to make the big step to the ground. Tess ran shrieking to her cousins, Queenie following and wagging her tail bravely amid the onslaught of pats and good-natured prodding. Mallory, baby-sitter extraordinaire, went directly to the parents, offering her services for the party. Looked to me like Scott and the missus were glad to accept any help they could get.

  Elsie and Thomas Lapp, along with Shelby, occupied the Buick. I was surprised Shelby hadn’t finagled her way into the van with Noah. Maybe she was still mad at him for lying about visiting Lucy.

  Lucy and her parents walked over to welcome the Lapps, who stood beside their car, seemingly unsure what to make of it all. I blinked as Lucy reached out and hugged Elsie, a move I wouldn’t have thought possible a few days ago. Lucy’s dad and Thomas shook hands, and when Lucy released Elsie, her mom took Elsie’s arm and led her toward some lawn chairs, situated in the shade.

  Lucy caught my eye from across the yard and I lifted a shoulder. She swallowed and straightened her shoulders, walking toward the center of the crowd.

  “Welcome to all of you,” Lucy said. “I’m so glad you could make it at such short notice. My boss, Stella, over there—”

  I waved.

  “—has given me the job of putting on a fun fest to raise a few extra dollars this fall. I thought what better way to try things out than on people who I know would enjoy it, and people who would be interested in where Tess and I are living these days. So relax, eat, play…we’re at your service. Supper will be served shortly, and until then feel free to pet the calves and take a look around. After supper we’ll have time for hayrides and good ol’ roasted marshmallows.”

  As Lucy talked I watched the people. I didn’t bother with those I knew. But the MYFers were interesting. A few of the boys couldn’t help but look over at the place where the garage had stood just a few days ago. I wondered how disappointed they were that their work had been obliterated in such a drastic w
ay.

  A half-hour later I was putting a milker on a cow—milking waits for no woman—when I heard it. The faintest of rumbling. I shoved on the milker and trotted outside.

  There he came, riding his Harley right into the fray. I walked toward him and waited till he’d killed the engine.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Lucy left a message. She needed me, so I came.”

  So simple. “Well, I don’t know whether to hug you or slug you for keeping me in the dark the last few days.”

  He closed his eyes, then looked at me tiredly. “How ’bout neither? Don’t want to embarrass either of us.”

  I studied the bags under his eyes. “I’ll let it go for now. But I’m glad you’re all right.”

  I turned and went back into the barn, afraid my emotions would boil over one way or another. The cows wouldn’t notice, but the folks in my yard just might.

  Zach soon joined me.

  “How’s it going out there?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Nobody’s quite sure what to make of Lenny, but he’s handling it okay. You want to get something to eat? I think people will be ready for a hayride before too long.”

  I stood up and stretched my back. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  I stepped out of the barn only to see Noah staring at the picnic table, where Lenny was filling his plate. Probably for the third time. I walked over to the food and grabbed some plasticware.

  “Meet Lucy’s old flame yet?”

  He looked up at me and I tipped my head toward Noah. Lenny turned toward Noah, who blinked before putting his hands in his pockets and walking away.

  “She doesn’t still like him?” Lenny asked.

  “Why would she? With you she gets much more to love.”

  Lenny laughed and took his plate to join Lucy, who sat on a straw bale, talking with her mother. Lois’ face showed nothing but warmth when Lenny sat down. Elsie, seated across the circle, didn’t reveal much of anything, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about her son. Lucy’s husband had been quite different from the man sitting next to her now.

  I was piling macaroni salad onto my plate when I stopped, spoon in the air. Anita Powell was walking up the lane, having left her car down toward the road. She smiled at me and crossed to the table.

  “She’s really doing it, isn’t she?” I said. “You, the detective….”

  She popped a baby carrot in her mouth and spoke around it. “And I thought, a free meal, why not? And help a woman who can use it?” She looked across the yard at the cluster of Lapps, deep in conversation, uncertainty painted on their faces. “Could that possibly be Lucy’s in-laws?”

  I grinned. “Want me to introduce you?”

  “It would be a pleasure.”

  We walked casually over to Brad’s family, Anita cool and professional. The Lapps glanced at me as I broke into their circle.

  “You folks having a good time?” I asked.

  They looked at each other, eyes wary.

  “Sure,” Scott said. “You have a nice place. Oh, this is my wife, Deena.”

  “Hi, Deena. Nice to meet you.” I gestured toward Anita. “I thought you all might like to meet one of Lucy’s new friends.”

  Anita stepped forward and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Anita. Anita Powell.”

  Thomas, caught at the very moment his and Anita’s hands met, turned beet red. Elsie’s face froze.

  “How did you meet Lucy?” Deena asked. She obviously had no clue what was going on.

  “Well,” Anita said, “I work for the county’s Children and Youth Services. I came out to check on Lucy and Tess’ new home. We hit it off right away. I’ve been back a couple of times to see them.”

  I tried not to smile at this stretching of the truth.

  The Lapps—now all performing a deer in the headlights routine—stared at Anita. Well, all but Deena, who was looking at Scott, her nose wrinkled in confusion.

  “So nice to meet you all,” Anita said. She turned to look toward the tractor, where Lucy was talking with Willard and herding people onto the trailer. “Is that Detective Willard over there talking with Lucy? I need to speak with him.” She left, walking with a purpose.

  “Detective—” Thomas said. He stopped as Willard threw back his head and laughed at something Lucy was saying.

  “Sure,” I said. “He’s a good friend of the family. In fact, he’s been helping Lucy out by looking into some things for her, trying to finally bring closure to her husband’s death. Would you like me to introduce you?”

  The Lapps failed to respond, so I took that as a no.

  I left Lucy’s in-laws in their collective shock and headed toward the trailer, where Scott and Deena’s kids, Tess, Brady, and the MYFers were settling in for a hayride. I couldn’t help but notice the Yoder boys showing definite interest in Mallory, who was busily tucking the smaller children onto her lap. Smiling to myself, I made a detour and grabbed Willard’s garbage bag from under table.

  “Hey, kids,” I said when I reached the trailer. I pulled the blanket out from the bag. “It might get a little chilly during the ride. Any of you need this?”

  A gasp from the rear of the trailer turned my head, and I looked into the stunned face of one of the teenage girls, her eyes wide. Noah sat beside her, his shoulder pressing against hers in the close quarters. Innocently, on his part, I was sure. Not so innocently on hers. Noah was talking soccer with a boy sitting catty-corner from him, oblivious to the drama suddenly taking place. I stared at the girl for a long moment before thrusting the blanket toward her.

  “Want it?”

  She jerked her head back, speechless.

  “We’ll take it.” A girl sitting on the other side of Noah raised her chin and met my eyes defiantly. “You’re right. It might get chilly.”

  I walked to the back of the trailer, poking Lucy in the back on my way past, and stood behind Noah and the two girls. I flapped the blanket, spreading it out, then swung it over their heads, yanking the two ends together and pulling the blanket up under their chins.

  “What—?” Noah said.

  I leaned forward so only he and the girls would be able to hear my words.

  “I think you need to counsel a couple of your…well, your closest MYFers, Noah. Ask them how come I have their blanket. Ask them where they were during this past Sunday night. And while you’re at it, you might want to think twice about letting yourself get placed in a tight little Noah sandwich in things like this trailer. I have a feeling these girls have more on their minds than church.”

  He jerked upright, but I snapped the blanket backward, smashing him against the side.

  “And the next time I catch any of your little lambs on my property, spray-painting obscenities or no, I’ll do more than sic my dog on them. Who,” I said to the girls, “is just fine, no thanks to whichever of you kicked her in the head. I hope her teeth marks took more than just a dab of Neosporin.”

  “But—” Noah said.

  “And you might want to inform them, Noah, that while your break-up with Lucy might not have been mutual, that doesn’t mean you want people thinking she’s something less than what she appears. Just because someone isn’t hot for teacher doesn’t make her a fallen woman.”

  He stopped fighting his restraint now and leaned back against the trailer, his face white. He looked up to find Lucy staring at him.

  “They came here?” he said quietly.

  “And painted some nasty words about Lucy on the garage.”

  His eyes flicked toward the rubble, then back to Lucy’s face.

  “God, I’m…I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  She smiled gently. “I see that, Noah. It’s okay.”

  Silence spread over the group as everyone realized what was happening. Kids all around the trailer stared at Noah, their faces reflecting his discomfort.

  Noah cleared his throat. “Stella. Could you please let go
of the blanket now?”

  I released it. Noah pushed the blanket off his legs and stood up. Not looking at either of the girls, he turned around, put a foot on the side of the trailer, and jumped to the ground. He walked away, not looking back.

  I stuck my head between the two girls and put my arms around their backs, my hands resting on the trailer. “Have a nice ride. I’ll try not to hit too many bumps.” I took a step, then stopped. “And while you’re busy pointing fingers at other people, you might want to check if the words you use just might apply to yourself.” I looked pointedly at the low necklines on the girl’s shirts, then walked away.

  Lucy stood beside the tractor, her back to the trailer and her hand covering her mouth.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She nodded, removing her hand. I saw she was smiling. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that Noah didn’t do it.”

  “I’m glad, too. Now, are you going to drive this tractor, or should I?”

  She sighed, sliding her hands into her back pockets. “Do you mind? I’d really like to spend a little time with my folks.”

  “Be glad to. Can you take a peek in the barn, though? I’m sure Zach’s fine, but just make sure everything’s okay.”

  I jumped onto the tractor and took the group on a nice twenty-minute ride. I missed most of the potholes.

  When we returned to the farm Lucy, Lenny, and Lucy’s father were at the campfire, roasting marshmallows. I took a seat on one of the straw bales, next to Lucy’s mom.

  Lois turned to me. “Elsie tells me their quilting group sent twenty-seven comforters to Iraq for the refugees there. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Lucy’s mother-in-law, seated next to Lois, twitched her shoulders with embarrassment. “It’s not that many.”

  “It is to those twenty-seven people,” Lois said. “Isn’t that right, Stella?”

  “Um, sure.”

  Lois sat back and sighed contentedly. “Isn’t this just a beautiful place? I’m so glad Lucy found you, Stella. I’m sure she and Tess will be very happy here.”

  I looked at Elsie, whose eyes shifted away.

  “I’m very glad to have them,” I said.