The Secrets Mothers Keep

by Jacquie Underdown

  “Polygamous?” she stuttered.

  He smiled warmly. “Yeah. I’m great at monogamy, don’t get me wrong. I’ve had some wonderful relationships, completely monogamous. But around the twelve to eighteen-month mark, I feel like I need to hold a part of myself back by not pursuing my biological needs with other women.”

  Pia shook her head. “Do you actually know what monogamy means? Because, from what you’re saying right now, it hints that you’re not good at monogamy at all.”

  “Pia, can you be serious for a moment? I’m trying to have an adult conversation with you.”

  Everything inside Pia tightened, urging her to run far far away from this … moron. But, instead, she nodded and gestured he keep talking.

  “Seen as we’re nearly at the twelve-month mark in our relationship, I want to set some plans in place now before the requirement to have sex with other women arises.”

  “Great foresight, Ben. I know how much you like to plan for future goals and write out the pros and cons of everything.”

  He smiled, completely missing her unveiled sarcasm. “See, that’s what I love about you; you really get me.” He reached beside him into his bedside table and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here.”

  She took the paper from him and looked at it. On the page was a series of questions with the option to give scores. Then the scores were tallied down the bottom to give an overall score.

  “Here’s what I’d like to suggest. And I think it’s a really beautiful plan that gives you a lot of control in this relationship. From here on out, I get to sleep with other women. But, I assure you, it will only ever be discreet and purely physical. It will never overlap with our relationship. So that you have control in this, I want you to rate me on how well I’m doing as a partner. If my average rating for the quarter falls below an agreed upon score, then I know I have to lift my game.”

  Pia read the first few items on the list:

  Has Ben been an attentive partner?

  Is Ben fulfilling my needs sexually?

  Has Ben been considerate of my feelings?

  She couldn’t read anymore so handed back the paper. “Can you please, for Christ’s sake, cover yourself up?”

  Ben’s brow furrowed, but he drew the sheet over his lap.

  “And what about me? I assume this polygamy extends to me as well. I can go out and sleep with random men?”

  “Of course, but I assumed I should be able to take care of your needs so that it’s not necessary.”

  Her breaths were coming faster. Her heart was racing. Hands trembling. “Right, of course. Yes, Mr Sex Machine Ben is man enough for me.”

  Ben sighed. “Is this bothering you? I really thought you were progressive enough to take this on board and give it due consideration.”

  She was already getting out of bed, scrambling for her clothes. Progressive? This suggestion was anything but progressive. In fact, she knew if she agreed to such a controlling, manipulative, disgusting contract, she’d take the progression of women back five hundred years.

  Ben was an unevolved Neanderthal. How had she not realised this before now?

  “Yes. Of course. I’ll consider it and let you know. I just need some time.”

  After hastily dressing, she stepped into her stilettos and grabbed her handbag but before she exited the room, she spun back to face him. He was sitting on the bed, frowning. All she could see now was a big, hairless ape. “You do know that…” She pointed to her head. “With this organ here called the brain, you are actually in charge of yourself?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. With that simple gesture alone, she wanted to race over to him and stab her stiletto in his eye. But, unlike him, she suppressed the urge with that amazing organ called the brain. The brain that was capable of foreseeing consequences and making rational decisions.

  She smiled as prettily as she could manage. “Then maybe you should start using that organ instead of focusing so much on the other useless one you tend to use instead.” She turned and marched out of the room.

  She hasn’t spoken to him since.

  Pia tosses those memories away with a sigh and types her next message to Mum.

  PIA: I’m going to do it too. My relationship with Ben is over. Handing in my notice at work today. Should be home in a month. I love you. I can’t wait to see you.

  Chapter 6

  Mary

  1965

  The books in Mary’s hands were heavy. Despite being a tall woman, she recognised her inadequate strength only when she had to carry books home from the library. Even if she brought a knapsack, the task was gruelling. But it was her own fault. She couldn’t stop at one.

  She had the best of intentions when she strode through the front door of the State Library of Tasmania, but as soon as she saw the stacks chocked full with books, their spines lined with titles she couldn’t resist, a lust-induced fog would descend over her and would stay in place until she was juggling half a dozen books to the counter.

  The staff all knew Mary by name. Since she had turned eighteen last month, her choices had become bolder, her selections more titillating or gruesome. Last week, she devoured Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein. The week before that Dracula.

  She had heard word of a book called Lady Chatterley’s Lover and had seen it on the shelves, but she wasn’t bold enough yet to take it off and have it checked out by Mrs Connolly at the counter.

  She was an adult and could indulge in such fiction, but it was not an acceptable thing for a young woman to do. Though she was sure, Mrs Connolly and the other library ladies would have read it.

  Mary had seen other women check it out from time to time, and she always studied Mrs Connolly’s face from behind the stacks as she flipped the cover open and stamped the date on the inside. Her lips always curved at the corners, almost imperceptibly.

  She hated that she wanted to read this book. Not that she really knew too much about it, only that it was banned for decades for being obscene. She didn’t really know what that meant. Sure, she could guess. A few books she had picked up quite by accident had made her face hot and tummy tingle as she read about stolen kisses and certain appendages doing unspeakable things.

  Mary was like a girl possessed these days because she was now an adult and ready for romance and love. It was all she could think about. As she fell to sleep at night, she imagined her first kiss or a man’s strong hands around her waist. She tried not to envision certain male body parts, but she couldn’t help it and before she knew it, she was hot and flushed and completely incapable of sleeping.

  That’s why by the time she made it to the train station, she was susceptible to see him among the men and women surging towards the open carriage.

  His height caught her attention first, then his eyes. They were pale blue, set within an angular face. His jaw was defined, cleanly shaven and his nose long and strong.

  Her heart stuttered out a syncopated rhythm when he caught her staring, and he smiled. His smile set her blood racing. She was no longer Mary Gardiner, an adult in this world, but a flustered young girl.

  Her returning smile was full of blustery coyness. Her cheeks were hot.

  He strode over, nodded at the books in her hand. “May I carry those for you?”

  Mary had almost forgotten she had them, but his question made the weight of them once again evident and her muscles groaned with their burden. “Yes please.”

  As he smiled and relieved her of the books, two perfect dimples appeared in his cheeks.

  “Thank you,” she said a little breathlessly.

  “My pleasure.”

  They didn’t speak again as they boarded the train. She looked for a seat, finding one towards the middle of the carriage. He followed and sat beside her.

  Her nerve endings tingled as the stare of every woman on the train focused on her. How could they not look with envy as she sat next to this most handsome man?

  He was older than her, sure, but that seemed to add to the appeal. He was a man, not like
the few boys who had tried to date her while she was in college.

  “My name is Robert,” he said, voice deep. “Pleased to meet you …”

  “Mary.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Mary. I’ve seen you a few times at this station. Always with a handful of books.” Her heart skipped a beat to hear that he had noticed her before. “You must obviously love to read?”

  “I do. Perhaps more than I should. Mum doesn’t really approve of it. She always complains that I have my nose in a book when I should be doing more worthwhile things.”

  He laughed. “My mother was the same. But it didn’t do me any harm. I still managed to make it through medical school.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re a doctor?”

  “I am. And what are your plans, Mary?”

  She lowered her head and smiled. “I plan to be a mother. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  His grin broadened. “I appreciate that aspiration. And I can see from the obviously smart, capable woman that you are, you’ll make a wonderful mother. ”

  Before the train pulled up at Robert’s stop, he turned to her. The way half his mouth curled upwards into a grin was endearing beyond words.

  “Mary, I must ask this because I fear if I don’t, I may never get another chance.”

  She looked at him blankly. “What is it?”

  “May I take you out to dinner on Friday night? We could go to the pictures afterwards. I’ll pick you up at your door. Meet your parents, if you’d like?”

  A date? She was so thrilled, she thought she might burst with happiness. Of course she said yes and scribbled her address onto a notebook of his with the most elegant looking pen she had ever used.

  When the train came to Robert’s stop, he shuffled out with the widest of smiles on his face along with Mary’s books. She laughed when he realised on the platform and he raced them back onto the train and handed them to her. His cheeks glowed with a bashful pink.

  “Bye, Mary,” he said.

  “Bye, Robert.”

  Her heart swelled with an emotion she had never felt before as she watched him alight for the second time, an obvious buoyancy in his gait.

  Chapter 7

  June

  The doorbell rings when June is in the downward dog position. Glowing sunlight streams through the window at her back, warming her flesh.

  Excitement has ignited in every cell of her body since she was given her niece, Pia’s, arrival date.

  June hasn’t allowed herself to miss Pia during the two years she has lived overseas, but in the last month, knowing she is coming home, June has pined for Pia like an ego for winning.

  It still baffles her that Mary has managed to convince not only their sister Grace but also Lily-Rose and Pia to take on this venture renovating the manor, let alone all living together for the next umpteenth years.

  But, then again, Mary has always been implausibly persuasive.

  Since she woke that morning, June has caught herself singing or humming. Her step is light.

  For so many years it’s been the two of them living in this slowly dying structure. Having the house full with family again is the best news June could ever have hoped for as though the life of this house has stretched towards the distant future; a future that has brightened her own existence.

  June jumps both feet between her hands into a forward bend, rolls up for sun salutation and on an exhalation, lowers her hands to her heart for prayer position. With each fluid move, the smile on her face remains fixed.

  After a whispered Namaste, still dressed in her loose yoga pants, sports bra and singlet, she hurries out to the entrance hall.

  Mary is already there, the door opened wide, grinning, though she still has that hunched look about her. Each time June notices her sister’s bent stature, her heart twinges.

  It’s so ironic that Mary’s unfaltering strength was once a quality that niggled at June’s peace but now that it has wavered, she meditates daily, sending out positive thoughts to the universe so that it may please come back.

  “Darling,” Mary says, holding her arms out wide.

  By the time June is at the door, Pia is enclosed in Mary’s embrace. “I missed you so much, Nan. Thank you for all the letters. They really helped me cope over there in the US without my family.”

  “It’s my pleasure, darling,” Mary says, releasing from the hug and holding Pia by the shoulders. “Now let me take a look at you.” She steps back and regards Pia’s fresh face, slight body, down to her shoes. “You’ve barely changed. Still as beautiful as ever.”

  Pia lifts her hand to her shoulder-length bob of blonde hair. “My hair’s shorter.”

  “There’s that,” Mary agrees.

  “Okay, okay, enough of that, now come over here,” June says holding her arms out wide and welcoming a smile and cuddle from Pia. She smells wonderful like young women do—all shampoo, moisturiser and floral deodorant.

  “Hi, Aunt June. It’s so good to see you.”

  June kisses her cheek, one then the other. “You too.” Then she pulls back and frowns. Pia’s blue eyes are bright and almond-shaped much like her mother’s, but they possess a sadness that isn’t normally there. “Your aura is slightly dulled. Has something happened?”

  Pia smiles sheepishly. “I did just end my relationship with Ben because he asked if I’d agree to him sleeping with other women.”

  June’s eyes widen. “That’s it. Your aura shimmered as soon as you mentioned that. I’ll have to give you a cleanse later. I bought some new smudge sticks—“

  “Can we do all that later?” Mary says impatiently. “Give the girl a chance to relax. You try flying for a near day and tell me if you want smoke blown in your bloody face the moment you step off the plane.”

  Pia’s eyebrows gather into an apologetic expression as she looks at June.

  “Fine, fine. Relax,” June says. “And when you’re ready, we’ll cleanse that nasty dark spot, A.K.A. Ben. And maybe even do a card reading to see where you’re at.”

  “Sure, Aunt June.”

  Mary sweeps her arm towards the living room. “Come on through. I’ve made bacon and cheese scones for morning tea.”

  “Wonderful,” Pia says. She grabs her suitcase from just inside the door and wheels it through the entrance hall. June strolls beside her and Mary leads the way.

  For the last decade, they have reduced their living quarters to five rooms – kitchen, living room, library and their respective bedrooms. Easier to keep clean and cheaper to heat when the colder months come to town.

  Over the last month, though, June and Mary have never cleaned so much in their lives, clearing away a decade of dust from floors, furniture, windows and fixtures, preparing for the family to arrive.

  “Gee, Nan, the place really does need a renovation,” Pia says, face slightly crumpled as she peers around.

  “Tell me about it,” June says. “The builder said that in its current state, he couldn’t even say it’s safe to live in.”

  Pia’s focus falls to the discoloured floorboards creaking beneath her feet. “Well, that fills me with confidence.”

  Mary clicks her tongue. “Stop scaring the poor girl. We’ve certainly not died living here.”

  “She’s going to find out sooner or later. Once we’re all together and have decided how we want the place renovated, we’ll get the builder back over to give us a quote…” June taps Pia’s arm. “You wait until you see the builder. If I were ten years younger—”

  “More like forty,” Mary says.

  “I’d be all over him like a … like a …”

  “Rash?” Mary suggests. “Like a rash, June?”

  Pia laughs.

  “Anyway, you wait,” June continues. “He’s absolutely scrumptious. And has an exquisite aura. He beams strength.”

  “Can’t wait,” Pia says with a giggle.

  Once Pia has her luggage stored in her room on the upper level, they take a tray of tea and scones out to the backyard to eat on
the patio. The square grey pavers have darkened over the years and are coated with verdant moss, though it’s not so dense in these warmer months.

  They sit at the chipped enamel outdoor setting. Crawling bougainvillaea in purples and pink spray across the rotting timber framework that encloses the space, ensuring the sunlight filters through in warming flickers.

  From this vantage, there are no homes in sight. This is all Mary’s land and, in a way, June’s too. She’s lived here with Mary since she was fifteen and has a strong sense of co-ownership after all this time.

  June gazes at Pia, her hair blowing gently as the spring breeze puffs from the east. Her eyes are bloodshot.

  So much like her mother this one, but only in appearance. Pia certainly isn’t fragile like her mother, though. Lily-Rose is flighty, distracted, and empathetic to a fault—very much like herself, really. But no, Pia’s disposition is like Mary, full of inner-strength, a sense of place, decency, and loyalty.

  They chat and eat, sipping their strong black tea, each looking out to the fertile countryside of undulating dips and inclines, and littered with trees and shrubbery.

  June lifts her china teacup in the air and smiles. “I want to toast to new beginnings.”

  “To new beginnings,” Pia says holding up her cup and chiming it against June’s.

  “To new beginnings,” Mary says, clanging both their cups before taking a sip.

  June seals their salutations with a mouthful of hot tea. “And, Pia, we’re both absolutely over-the-moon to have you home.”

  June inhales deeply and exhales a long slow breath—the first containing traces of calm in a while. After her talk with Mary last month, hearing the story behind why there is no money left to do these renovations herself, June’s spirit, mind and body have fragmented, throwing her all out of alignment.

  To hear that Mary had been keeping such a secret. To hear how she had lost all that money…

  June aches to feel sympathy. Shock even. But nothing much these days is strong enough to dilute the salty taste of her own experiences.

  A better sister, Grace perhaps, may have wrapped Mary in her arms and soothed her with gentle strokes along her back.