1 3 7 – ZOË

by C. De Melo

  “Maria? Would you come here, please?”

  There was a moment of hesitation before she reluctantly obeyed. “Yes, Mrs. Adams?”

  “This is locked. Do you have a key?”

  “Mr. Adams has the only key.”

  Again I detected something contrived in her tone. “How do you know so much about this trunk, anyway?”

  She shrugged. An odd smile played about her lips. “I pay attention to things.”

  What the hell did that mean? I wasn’t in the mood to play games in order to find out. “I see. Very well, then,” I said, standing up. “I guess I’ll have to use other linens.”

  We walked downstairs in silence. Juana looked to Maria in askance as we reentered the kitchen.

  “It’s locked,” I said. I didn’t want to make an issue of it, at least not today.

  “I’m sorry, I should have told you that,” Juana said apologetically. “Mr. Adams has the only key.”

  “No problem,” I said brightly. “We’ll just use the linens stored in the pantry. I don’t want to bother Mr. Adams about an old trunk, anyway.”

  Juana and Maria began busily spooning stuffing and cooked vegetables into serving bowls. Neither one of them said another word, but I could feel the tension in the air. My mind raced as I tried to come up with reasons why Juana was so upset. What could possibly be inside of that trunk? Had she been admonished by Michael not to speak of its existence?

  I was in the process of placing the last piece of silverware on the table when Michael came into the room. “How was your walk?” I asked.

  “Great. It’s a perfect day outside.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Famished,” he replied, placing his arm around my shoulders.

  “Well, you’ll be happy to know I had Juana prepare your favorite dessert in addition to the traditional pumpkin pie,” I said, turning to look up at him.

  “Homemade custard pudding?” he asked eagerly.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re the best, princess.”

  “Tell Juana that- she made it, not me.”

  “I’ll be sure to thank her.” Michael looked down at the table and frowned. “You have an extra setting.”

  “No, I don’t,” I contradicted gently.

  He recounted the plates and named the guests before saying, “Yes, you do.”

  I shook my head. Michael suddenly realized that I’d invited someone without his knowledge, and he had a pretty good idea who the mystery guest was, too.

  “Zoë, tell me you didn’t invite him,” Michael said.

  “I did,” I confessed.

  He sighed in annoyance.

  “Michael, he is your brother. Thanksgiving is the time for families to get together…isn’t it time you two patched things up?”

  He said nothing.

  “This isn’t like you,” I said. “The Michael I know loved his younger brother to death. There is nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  “I do love Lance, but-”

  “No buts. Family is important. I can’t even begin to tell you how difficult today is for me without my dad here.”

  He sighed again. “You’re right, princess.”

  “Thank you, Michael.”

  “I’m going upstairs to wash up and change,” he said.

  I nodded and he left the room. I looked down at the perfectly set table. The white porcelain china and silver utensils gleamed, and the crystal wine and water goblets sparkled. In the center of the table was an autumnal floral arrangement surrounded by small sugar pumpkins and several glass votive holders with little candles inside. It was warm, cozy and casually elegant.

  I went upstairs to change into a short, clingy emerald knit dress. Black tights and black suede boots completed the outfit. I brushed my hair and let it fall loose down my back. A quick application of mascara, concealer and lip gloss along with a spritz of perfume and I was done. The doorbell rang as I was heading back downstairs. Within a few minutes my mother and Maddy entered the dining room.

  “Nice job, sis,” Maddy said in admiration of the table.

  “Thanks, Maddy. Hi mom. Happy Thanksgiving!”

  My mother handed a covered dish to Juana, while Maria took their coats.

  “Mom, you didn’t have to bring anything. Juana and Maria have made more than enough food.”

  “Oh, I know, honey. I just thought I’d make some of that green bean casserole you love so much.”

  “Thanks, mom, I can’t wait to taste it. How about a drink?”

  “Wine for me,” she said. “Anything white, please.”

  “Red for me,” said Maddy. “Cabernet if you have it.”

  “That sounds good, I’ll have the same,” I said.

  Maria nodded and went into the kitchen to get the drinks.

  “Where’s Michael?” Maddy asked.

  “Upstairs,” I replied.

  My sister lowered her voice and asked, “Did you tell him you invited Lance?”

  “I did. Just now.”

  “Well?”

  “He wasn’t too thrilled at first, but then I reminded him how important family is and now he’s fine…I think.”

  My mother shook her head and gave me a look of disapproval. “I think it’s a bad idea,” she said.

  Maddy and I turned to look at her in surprise.

  “Why do you say that?” Maddy asked.

  “Because today is not the day to resolve family differences. It’s a day meant to be enjoyed. If Michael is tense about his brother being here, then he won’t enjoy this wonderful holiday.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Zoë,” Maddy said. “I think it should be a day of family- and Lance is family.”

  Maria came in with three glasses of wine on a tray. We helped ourselves and waited until she was out of earshot to continue our conversation.

  My mother cocked her head to the side. “I was only expressing my opinion. Anyway, this table looks lovely. I like the centerpiece.”

  “Thanks. Michael picked it out,” I said.

  “He’s got great taste. Who else is coming?” Maddy asked.

  I named the few guests Michael had invited. A moment later he walked into the dining room wearing a red silk sweater and tan slacks. We stood around and chatted until the guests arrived. The cocktails flowed freely as everyone socialized.

  Maria came into the living room where we were congregated and whispered in my ear, “Mrs. Adams, Mr. Adams is at the door and wishes to see you before joining the other guests.”

  I was in the middle of speaking with one of Michael’s colleagues. I politely excused myself and walked to the front door. I found Lance standing in the entryway looking extremely handsome in casual grey wool pants and a black cashmere sweater. His hair hung loose about his shoulders.

  Sexy.

  I blushed furiously at the thought and reprimanded myself. He was my husband’s brother!

  “Lance,” I said, giving him a hug.

  Was it wrong that I enjoyed the feel of his strong, hard body?

  He bent down to kiss my cheek in greeting. “Hey Zoë. You look great. Here, this is for you,” he said, handing me a bottle of wine.

  “Chateauneuf du Pape. How lovely, thank you. I’m so glad you came.”

  “I almost didn’t,” he confessed.

  “Don’t be silly. I already told Michael you were coming and he’s fine. Besides, mom and Maddy are here and they’re eager to see you.”

  Lance sighed, unsure of what to do. Michael approached and we both turned to look at him in surprise. The two men locked eyes for a long moment until Michael finally stepped forward and extended his hand. Lance accepted it.

  “Good to see you, Lance,” Michael said.

  “You too, Michael. I hope you don’t mind…Zoë invited me,” he explained awkwardly.

  Michael smiled politely. “Of course I don’t mind.”

  Lance let out a sigh of relief. “Good. So, how are you?”

  “Fine. You?”

  “Fine.�
��

  “It’s been a long time.”

  Lance nodded. “It has, indeed.”

  Michael placed an arm around me. “Well, our little Zoë insisted on you coming and I’m glad you did. Come on in and have a drink. I don’t think you need any introductions since you already know just about everyone here.”

  I smiled gratefully at Michael. Lance caught the exchange and frowned slightly before following us into the living room. Everyone seemed surprised (but not displeased) to see him. I watched with a smile on my face as Lance mingled effortlessly in the group, spreading his charm and good humor. When I glanced up at Michael, I noticed he was not smiling. In fact, he watched his brother with an intensity that bordered on hostile.

  When he caught my eye, he smiled and kissed the top of my head. “When do we eat? I’m famished,” he said.

  “Soon,” I replied, suddenly wishing he would remove his arm from around my shoulders.

  “Dinner is served,” Juana announced.

  “That’s my cue to get the bird,” Michael said as he stepped away from me.

  Juana and Maria set the food out on the table. The twenty-three pound turkey was carried to the head of the table by Michael himself. The bird was cooked to a perfect golden brown.

  “What do you think? Twenty pounds?” Lance asked of Maddy, who was sitting beside him.

  Since I was seated directly across from Lance, I whispered, “Twenty-three.”

  They both looked at me and smiled. Michael picked up a wickedly sharp knife and began carving the giant bird. Before long, plates were being piled high with delicious food. Juana and Maria had outdone themselves. The guests were eating heartily, drinking and chatting. I looked around and felt the deep sense of satisfaction that comes from being a successful hostess.

  At one point during the meal I caught Lance staring at me with a strange expression on his face. I saw something in his eyes that I remembered seeing many years ago: fascination. Lance was only twenty years old when I was first introduced to him by Michael. He was ten years my junior and no doubt less experienced than me. Regardless of our age difference, I took the time to speak with him and really listen to what he had to say. I was surprised by Lance’s keen intelligence and maturity. We hit it off instantly, and within minutes he had me laughing. Since Michael was usually pulled away to discuss politics or business whenever we went to social events, Lance would often tag along at his older brother’s invitation in order for me not to be alone. We would spend the time enjoying one another’s company. In time, it eventually became obvious to me (and Michael) that Lance had a crush on me. We thought it was cute and harmless; a boy’s crush on an older woman. But Lance was no longer an inexperienced boy.

  Instead, he was very much a man. And now he was almost ten years my senior. The roles had reversed; did he still have a crush on me?

  We stared at each other for only a few seconds, but the intensity of the exchange made it seem like longer. Lance was the first to break eye contact. He looked down at his plate. I turned my head and saw Michael glare at his brother before meeting my gaze. When I smiled at my husband, he did not return the smile. Instead, he picked up his wine glass and began to speak with the female colleague seated beside him.

  Michael avoided me for the remainder of the night. Not even when his favorite dessert was brought to the table did he look to me or say thank you. The men congregated to discuss business and sports after dinner, leaving Lance with the women. None of them minded his charming company; in fact they welcomed it with obvious approval. After several minutes, however, Michael invited Lance to join the men.

  “Come on, little brother. Let me rescue you from these hens,” Michael teased.

  The women feigned outrage at the macho comment, but they took it as an opportunity to gossip. Since Maddy, my mother and I were not big on gossip, we listened more than we spoke. Later in the evening after everyone had gone home, I approached Michael in the kitchen. He was picking at a piece of cold turkey. Maria and Juana were busy doing the dishes and putting leftovers in smaller containers. I remembered how much Michael loved making sandwiches the day after Thanksgiving.

  “I think dinner went rather well. Did you enjoy yourself?” I asked.

  He looked down at me. “I did.”

  When he said nothing more, I shrugged. “Well, I’m going upstairs. Are you coming up?”

  “Not yet, but you go ahead.”

  I knew something was bothering him. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  I went upstairs. Michael had moved back into the master bedroom shortly after the park incident in September. I waited for him to come to bed, which he did a half hour later. The king size mattress placed him at an arm’s length away from me.

  “What’s wrong, Michael?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied as he settled comfortably on a pile of pillows.

  “Oh, come on,” I said, leaning on my elbow. “Something has been bothering you since dinner. I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”

  “Actually, it was less than a year ago,” he retorted.

  “Very funny. Now will you tell me what’s eating away at you?”

  He took a deep breath and finally admitted, “I saw how you and Lance looked at each other.”

  I looked at him incredulously. “What?”

  He shrugged and repeated himself. And then he added, “I’m just an old fool, princess. Forgive me for being jealous…I know it’s silly of me.”

  “It is indeed silly,” I agreed. “Besides, you know how friendly Lance and I have always been with each other.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, princess. It’s just that Lance is young, handsome and charismatic…he went from being an awkward boy to a distinguished man. He’s not a kid anymore, Zoë. It’s only natural if you feel attracted to him.”

  “Michael, please!”

  He met my gaze levelly. “I know about your little rendezvous.”

  “What rendezvous?”

  “Your little museum outing and lunch.”

  I sat up in the bed. “You had me followed?”

  He looked genuinely hurt at my insinuation. “No, Zoë. One of my business associates saw you at the museum restaurant and he mentioned it to me.”

  I sighed in frustration. “Michael, all we did was visit the Smithsonian and have lunch.”

  “Then why not tell me about it?” he asked softly.

  “Because I know you and Lance have not been on speaking terms. The last thing I want to do is make you upset…especially after everything you’ve done for me.” It was the truth.

  Michael was nodding with a sad expression on his face. “I understand. In the future, just be honest.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Let’s just forget about this.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “And you have no reason to feel jealous of Lance. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still the same, silly boy I’ve always known.” That was a bald-faced lie.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m happy you made up with your brother today.”

  “Me too. Goodnight, princess,” he said.

  “Goodnight,” I responded, feeling a bit guilty.

  He turned off the light but I couldn’t sleep. As I stared into the darkness, I really didn’t know what to make of Michael’s jealousy, especially since it had never been a problem in the past. Ironically, I had always been the one with the twinge of jealousy due to the long line of beautiful, sophisticated women Michael had dated prior to meeting me. In addition to this, I knew Michael had not remained celibate for the last twenty years. I didn’t ask and he didn’t confess anything, but I’m not stupid. My husband is handsome, powerful and rich- three of the most potent aphrodisiacs to women.

  After breakfast the following morning, Michael announced he had to meet someone downtown. He also mentioned he would be busy all day due to meetings. He left after a quick cup of coffee and some toast.

  I decided to take advantage of Michael’s ab
sence by paying a visit to the local locksmith. I remembered the trunk’s lock was similar to a padlock, but with a smooth round hole on the bottom. I wanted to go up to the attic to take another look to make sure, but I didn’t dare with Juana buzzing around the house. She would certainly alert Michael if she suspected anything out of the ordinary. Hopefully, the locksmith would have some type of universal skeleton key. I’d go up and test it when Juana had her next day off. I ran upstairs to grab my purse and coat, and then headed out to my car.

  Carlos greeted me as he carried out a trash barrel. “Good morning, Mrs. Adams,” he said cheerfully.

  “Good morning, Carlos.”

  “Off to enjoy another gorgeous day?”

  “Just going to the drug store to pick up some toothpaste. I’ll be right back.”

  Why did I lie?

  As I settled behind the wheel I knew Carlos was watching me so I looked at him and waved. He waved back as I sped down the drive. The nearest locksmith was only a fifteen-minute drive away. After describing the trunk’s lock in great detail, I was assured that one of the skeleton keys he had in stock should work. I purchased every one he had in the store.

  Carlos was still outside when I returned, only now he was raking leaves. He looked up and smiled, but said nothing. I noticed his eyes searching my hands for a shopping bag. Quickly, I unlocked the front door and went inside.

  I heard Juana humming as she cleaned Michael’s office. I knew I should wait until she had the day off to test the keys, but I was simply too curious. With the stealth of a cat, I made my way upstairs. I took the skeleton keys out of my purse and crept up to the attic. I froze when I approached the spot where Maria and I had stood only yesterday.

  The trunk was gone!

  I searched the entire attic and it was not there. Puzzled, I slowly made my way downstairs. I went into my bedroom and thought about what to do next.

  “Is something wrong, Mrs. Adams?”

  I gasped in surprise. It was Juana.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I did not mean to startle you,” she said.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded harshly without thinking.