Under Cover

by Caroline Crane

  “It’s Friday.”

  Since usually he preferred his own computer, I assumed he meant to help me with Hudson Hills.

  “Don’t you need special software?” I asked.

  “For what?”

  Okay, he knew a lot more than I did, so I shut up. He took a swig of soda and began clicking keys.

  “Seventy-nine Salt Street,” I reminded him. It wasn’t necessary. Ben had a phenomenal memory for that kind of detail.

  I couldn’t help watching. He twitched his shoulder as if to knock away a fly. I backed off and waited.

  “Salt Street, huh?” He wasn’t asking, only making conversation. I resisted the urge to say “Seventy-nine.” Or mention the dark green trim. Since the house was already dark brown, why didn’t they trim it in a lighter shade? It wouldn’t have looked so dismal.

  “Hmm.” He scowled at the screen. “Mulvaney. Do you know any Mulvaneys?”

  “Not a single one.” I tried to think and came up empty.

  “It’s U Mulvaney. What would U stand for?”

  “Ulysses? Ugo? That’s Italian for Hugo. Umbert? Ulrich?”

  “It could be female,” he said. “A lot of women list only their initial to keep the creeps away.”

  “Why are there so many creeps in the world?”

  “Don’t ask me. Ask God.”

  “Do you think God made creeps? Why would He do that?”

  “It’s one of those mysteries. Do you want a phone number?”

  I cringed at the thought of calling strangers. What would I say to them? I went back to the name. “Una, maybe? Or Uma?”

  “What’s the point in guessing? If you’re really interested, you can call them and ask.” He gave me the number that I didn’t want. I wrote it down.

  “How about Uta?” I couldn’t stop. “Undine? I read a story once about somebody named Undine. I think she was a mermaid.”

  “What did we say about guessing?”

  “I didn’t say it. You did. I know there’s no point. I’m only trying to figure out what makes sense.”

  He shook his head. I wished he would kiss me instead. He turned off the computer and we finished the bag of chips.

  “Now that you have that information,” he said, “what are you going to do with it?”

  “Nothing, maybe. All I want is to know. I still don’t know much, like who those Mulvaneys are.”

  “You could drive by the house and stare.”

  “Which would tell me what? Anyway, I’m not that desperate.”

  Maybe I was. Or at least curious. But driving by wouldn’t answer my questions.

  I might catch a glimpse of Dad. It would give me an excuse to stop and talk to him. If I caught a glimpse, which I doubted.

  Anyway, it was Ben I cared about. I wanted him to kiss me and stop being so businesslike.

  He left without even a snuggle. I could understand what people meant about a hole in the heart. It was there, I could almost see it, a red pit that went on forever. I tried to ignore it, and busied myself instead with the phone book.

  No Mulvaneys were listed in Hudson Hills. And none anywhere with the initial U. I stared at it, hoping one would appear. When it didn’t, I booted up my computer and tried to follow Ben’s viewing history. It took a lot of fiddling but eventually I came up with exactly what he had found. It didn’t tell me anything new.

  I thought of calling the number, but what would I say? “Hello, I saw my dad go into your house and I’m wondering who you are?”

  Hey, I could ask to speak to Dad. They would demand to know who I was. Didn’t I have a legitimate reason?

  What would I say to him? I was suddenly bashful. He’d made it so clear he didn’t want to bother with me. I should give up the whole thing.

  Or start with what Ben said, drive by the house and stare. It wouldn’t give me any answers, but I’d feel I was doing something.

  First I would have to get hold of Grandma’s car. She’d never turn over the keys without a lot of questions. Probing ones that I’d feel silly answering. Everyone seemed to think it was odd that I’d want to know the dad who made up half my genes.

  I thought of calling Maddie. She would say she couldn’t talk, with that Very Important Work for her dad. Or else she’d be sleeping. If not that, she’d be busy with her cop friend, Rick Falco. They got to know each other last winter when she was having problems. Much worse ones than I had.

  Maddie claimed she wasn’t really involved with Rick; they’d only kissed a couple of times. To me, that seemed involved. After all, she was a high school junior while he was a great, big, twenty-something cop. Still, he was a huge improvement over the obsessive, ex-boyfriend maniac she couldn’t get rid of. Having a cop in her life must have made her feel safe.

  Plus, he was cute. Her parents liked him but they thought Maddie was too young to get serious about an older man. They made that clear, but so far let it go. Possibly because he’d saved her life once and could do it again.

  Okay, that was Maddie’s problem. I had a few of my own. After much debate, I got up the nerve to ask Grandma if I could borrow Archie.

  I found her half asleep on the sofa with the TV on. My question made her pop straight up. As expected, she narrowed her eyes and asked, “What do you want him for?”

  I told you she considered the car a person.

  “I just want to check a few things,” was all I could think of.

  “Like what?”

  I knew this wouldn’t be easy. I had to keep reminding myself it was her car.

  “Maybe I should get a new bike,” I said.

  “You’d bike all the way to Hudson Hills?”

  “I wouldn’t even consider it. That’s what I need Archie for. How did you know I want to go to Hudson Hills?”

  “’Cause I’ve got insight. Plus all those questions you keep asking.”

  I could feel myself losing it. “If somebody would just give me some answers, I wouldn’t have to keep asking. I wouldn’t need to ride all the way to Hudson Hills on a bike I don’t have.”

  “Honey, if I had the answers, I’d give them to you. I got no idea who lives in that house.”

  “Somebody named Mulvaney,” I told her. “First initial is U. Gender unknown.”

  “Where’d you get all that?”

  “Ben looked it up on the Internet.”

  She turned off the TV so she could question me better.

  “Next thing.” She poked the air as if making a list with bullet points. “Did you happen to notice it’s dark out there? It seems to me the law says at your age you’re not supposed to drive after dark.”

  “I know it’s dark. I wasn’t going right now. Could I borrow him tomorrow?”

  “I guess maybe. Unless something comes up.”

  Arghh.

  Still, I tried one last time to save myself the trip. “Didn’t Dad tell you anything on the way home? You guys were talking nonstop.”

  “He had a lot to say about Borneo,” she answered. “And he asked about your mom.”

  “Like he cares about Mom.”

  “He really does.” Grandma was probably kidding herself. “It’s just that he got this itch. The thing they call wanderlust.”

  “A lot of times people don’t do what they’d rather do, because they have responsibilities. He never heard of growing up and facing responsibilities?”

  “Guess not. But your mom did okay without him.”

  Grandma turned the TV back on. I was dismissed.

  Chapter Five

  Not knowing the Mulvaneys’ Saturday schedule, like if they went to work, or shopping, or slept in, I thought I should wait awhile. Maybe till about noon, and hoped I wouldn’t be interrupting lunch.

  Grandma gave me her keys and warned me to drive carefully. As if I wouldn’t. She was more concerned about Archie than about me.

  Slowly I backed out of the driveway, still with no clear idea of what I would do there. Probably ring the doorbell and ask for my dad. Would it be enough that I jus
t wanted to see him before he left the country?

  What if he didn’t want to see me? What did I ever do to make him not want me, besides get born? That was his fault more than mine.

  By the time I reached the highway, I had worked myself into a snit. He was my father and he’d barely said two words to me. I’d counted them—five words, aside from a couple of sentences at the airport and one in the car when he said “We’ll talk later.” I was still waiting for that to happen.

  That’s what I would do. I would go up to the door and ask for Jules Penny. If he refused to see me, then I’d know for sure where I stood.

  This time an old gray Mazda sat in their driveway. I found a parking space a little way up the street, not too close, and walked back to the house. When I rang the doorbell, nothing happened.

  I rang again. A female voice said, “Coming.” Or maybe it was “Come in,” I couldn’t be sure. It didn’t sound like Mei.

  The woman who opened the door was tall, with short dark hair turning gray. She wore jeans and a lavender plaid shirt. Without opening the screen, she said, “Yes?”

  “Is Mr. Penny here?” I asked.

  “Who?”

  I did have the right house, didn’t I?

  “Jules Penny. He came yesterday from Borneo. I saw him go in here. I’m his daughter.”

  Her mouth opened slightly and she took a sharp breath. “You’re who?”

  “His daughter. Lucretia Penny. I live in Southbridge. We picked him up at the airport yesterday and brought him here.”

  Still she didn’t open the door. She looked at me hard and said, “Lucretia?” as if it was some weird language.

  “Lucretia Penny,” I said again. “Jules Penny is my father. Is he here?”

  She collected herself enough to say, “No, he went out,” and stepped back, ready for me to leave.

  I wasn’t about to give up. “Is Mei here? His friend, who came with him.”

  The woman hesitated then called over her shoulder, “Mei? Somebody to see you.”

  I heard a soft padding. The stiletto heels had given way to slip-on sneakers. They made her a couple of inches shorter. She had on a white blouse, cuffed blue slacks, and the shoes were also blue. On seeing me, she broke into a smile. “Aah! C-lee!” The r gave her trouble. That was okay. I knew I wouldn’t do very well in Chinese.

  The older woman kept the screen door shut. Did my dad give orders not to let me in? I told Mei, “I was hoping to see my father but they said he went out.”

  “Yes,” Mei confirmed. “He is go out. With Leem.”

  “With—oh, Liam.”

  Mei seemed embarrassed that she couldn’t do it right.

  “My son,” said the woman.

  I had pictured Liam as an older man. “Oh. I see. My dad didn’t say anything about—anything. Would you tell him—”

  I had another idea. I asked Mei, “Would you like to go out with me for a little while? Just a short car ride.”

  She looked out at the street for the orange car we came in yesterday. “You d-ive?”

  “That’s how I got here,” I said. “It’s my grandmother’s car. It’s just down the street. We could have coffee or something. Or lunch, if you haven’t had lunch.” I tried to open the screen for her. It was locked.

  Mrs. Mulvaney, if that’s who she was, unlocked it, mumbling something about, “We’ve been having a little trouble.” Even then, she didn’t actually open it. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Mei?”

  What was she trying to pull? I said, “I’ll bring her back soon. Could you tell my dad I came looking for him? It’s Cree Penny.”

  “I thought you gave a different name,” said the woman.

  “I gave my formal one, Lucretia. Everyone calls me Cree. Including my dad. He’ll know.”

  That seemed to satisfy her. Mei and I escaped and hiked down the sidewalk to Grandma’s car. I asked, “Did you have lunch?”

  “Yes. Lunch. I have sandwich.”

  “How about some ice cream? Do you like ice cream?”

  She had a pretty smile. “Ice keem. Yes. I like.”

  She seemed nervous as I started the car and set off for Southbridge, a few miles away.

  Especially when we got to the highway. She clutched the edge of her seat and asked “Where we going?”

  She must have thought I was kidnapping her. “We’re going to an ice cream shop. It’s near my home, in Southbridge. It’s a nice place. My boyfriend works there.”

  “You have boyfen?”

  “His name is Ben. That’s short for Bennett. Canfield. He’s just finishing high school. Next year he’ll be going to MIT. Or rather, this year.”

  Only two months. By the end of August, he would be gone.

  “MIT? What is?”

  “It’s the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.”

  “He is engineer?”

  Hey, this girl was no dummy, even with the language hurdle. I would never have known “technology” in Chinese. Or anything in Chinese. I explained that Ben was very smart and could study anything but he was especially interested in science. By the time we got to the strip mall, Mei had relaxed.

  Frosty Dan was extra busy and Ben had a girl helping him. She must have been new. Why would they hire her instead of me? She looked to be in her late teens, with brown hair and bangs, and brown eyes that were soft and cow-like. She had on brown Bermuda shorts and a brown apron. Ben’s apron was white.

  I took Mei up to the counter and showed her pictures of all the different concoctions. As usual, I chose a banana split and so did she. I could never feel guilty about banana splits. How can you go wrong with all those vitamins and minerals in the fruit?

  We took a table near the window. It looked out on parked cars and the foot traffic going past. We ate for a couple of minutes before I began my questions. I started small, with the ones that weren’t quite so important.

  “Did you always live in Borneo?” I asked.

  “Yes. Always. My father has business.”

  I wondered if her father approved of my dad, a man much older than Mei and not a big earner. Unless he earned more than he let on to Mom and me.

  “I wish I could see Borneo,” I said. “The pictures look so beautiful.”

  “Is not so busy as here.”

  “We saw the busiest part yesterday, I think. But there’s a lot of countryside, too. Did you know my father a long time?” I saw Ben watching us and tried to wave him over. He didn’t move.

  “Three years I know your father,” said Mei.

  “Is Mrs. Mulvaney a friend of his?”

  “Yes. Very long time.”

  “Funny, I never knew she existed. Is there a Mr. Mulvaney?”

  “No, she is—it is her name when she is born.”

  “Maiden name. She’s not married?”

  “Yes, she was married. Now she is Mulvaney again. Is how she wants it.”

  It must have been a contentious divorce, I thought. “What’s her first name?”

  “First—name?”

  “The name you call a person, um—informally. Like, I’m Cree. My dad is Jules.” I didn’t say anything about Mei herself. I supposed it was her first name, but I knew that in China they put the last name first.

  “I don’t—oh, yes. She tell me call her Sue.”

  “Sue,” I repeated. “I thought her first name started with U.”

  “With me?”

  “No, the letter U.” I traced it on the fake marble tabletop.

  “Oh. Oh, I see. Letta U.” She, too, wrote it with her finger. “Maybe—is—Oo-sala.”

  That stumped me as much as it did her. I recovered faster. “Ursula?”

  “Yes. Oo-sala.” She smiled, now that that was settled.

  “Oh, I get it. Ur-sue-la. And Liam is her son?”

  The smile disappeared. “Yes, her son. Leem.”

  “I wonder if that’s who Hey Buddy is. Liam Mulvaney.”

  “No, no. He is—Leem Penny.”

  Chapter Six


  Liam Penny.

  That was a new one.

  “His brother?” I asked. She didn’t know what I was talking about.

  A younger brother. A half-brother, if he was Mrs. Mulvaney’s son. Grandma said she didn’t know anything about Dad’s family.

  If he was Hey Buddy, what was he doing in prison? Was that why my dad came all the way from Borneo? Why wouldn’t anyone tell me?

  I was not going to ask Mei. She clearly didn’t want to spill the Mulvaney secrets. Or even the Penny ones. Maybe it was none of my business.

  I couldn’t help feeling it was sort of my business, with my dad being involved. But he had opted long ago not to be my dad, so that took care of that.

  I looked over at Ben for some kind of reassurance. He was busy chatting with the girl in brown shorts. That got me temporarily off the Mulvaneys and the Pennys. Or was the plural of it Pennies? There had never been any others besides Mom and me, so I didn’t know.

  Somehow I finished my banana split and got Mei back to Hudson Hills. That time the door was unlocked. She pulled it open and thanked me way too much for the ice cream. I didn’t see Mrs. Mulvaney. Or Dad, or anyone who might have been Hey Buddy. They were all on my mind as I drove back to Southbridge.

  So was Ben. And that girl in brown shorts. I told myself he had a right to talk to his coworker. By the same token, I had a right not to like it. And I didn’t, jealous bitch that I was.

  Grandma and Jasper were on the sofa watching a show about deep sea divers. I gave her back the keys and said, “Why can’t somebody tell me?”

  She muted the TV and put on her innocent look. “Tell you what, hon?”

  “The woman in that house. Mulvaney. Who is she? And why is there somebody named Liam Penny?”

  “You’re kidding me!” Grandma seemed genuinely flabbergasted. “Honey, I don’t know any more than you do, I told you that. Why didn’t you ask?”

  “Ask who? That’s as far as I got with Mei. I thought Dad might have said something.”

  “I told you, he didn’t. I’ve hardly seen him, except to get him there and then all he did was talk about Borneo.”

  I tried a different approach. “Does the name Ursula Mulvaney ring any sort of bell?”