by Lesley Crewe
“What took you so long?”
She closed the door and leaned against it. Her heart raced a mile a minute. He was gorgeous. He’d always been gorgeous, with that shaggy hair and strong jaw covered with stubble, those big dimples and the scent of him. She needed that on her skin again.
“Crystal said something to me today that made me stop and…”
“When Juliet and Robert walked in on us tonight, I wanted to kill them.”
She tried to swallow. “Really?”
“Have you got anything on under that?”
“No,” she whispered.
“I want you so bad.” He reached out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her to his chest. He put both his hands up through her hair. “I need you, baby.” He kissed her then, a deep searching kiss that made her ache. His mouth opened hers and he took her in, made her come closer to him. She didn’t want to wait anymore. She pulled him back with her until they banged into the door.
“I want you now,” she groaned in his ear. “Do it now.”
He reached down and slid his big hands up her legs until they were under her robe, encircling her ribs. As he kissed her, he reached around and lifted her off her feet. He pressed himself against her. In only a moment, he’d have all of her again.
“Oh my God,” she moaned. “Hurry.”
She was completely unaware of anything except Graham’s body moving against hers. So it came as such a shock when she heard Bunny say, “Isn’t this cozy?”
Her head flew up and the beads of sweat on her forehead turned cold. Graham suddenly stopped panting and looked around too. There was Bunny, a bottle of champagne in one hand and a jar of caviar in the other, in a dress three sizes too small.
“Put me down.”
He did. The three of them stood there for a moment, but it felt like hours.
Bunny smirked at them. “I know you like kinky sex, Graham, but I’m a good girl. I won’t do it with you and the missus, so don’t even ask me.”
Graham buttoned his jeans. “Don’t be disgusting.”
“Disgusting? We had a date, remember? We made it when you crawled out of my bed this morning.” She turned to Elsie. “But I don’t recall you being invited.”
He looked at his wife. “It wasn’t like that…”
“It’s okay,” Elsie said hoarsely. “This is my fault. I’m sorry.” She turned and fumbled with the doorknob.
“He might forgive you, but I won’t. Stay away from my man.”
Graham ran after Elsie and grabbed her arm.
“Don’t, Gray. Just don’t.”
“But…”
“Please.”
He released his grip and let her slip away.
Numb, he turned around, walked over to Bunny and grabbed the champagne bottle out of her hand.
“Do you have the slightest idea what you’ve just done?”
She stood in front of him and quivered with righteous indignation. “I could ask you the same thing. Don’t you dare get snotty with me. You can’t use me like Kleenex and then throw me away.”
Her counterattack took him by surprise. He was in the right, not her.
She pointed at the door and then back at herself. “She’s supposedly not your wife anymore. I was under the impression that you and I were dating. How do you think I feel when just this morning you said you’d take me down south…”
“I didn’t. You did.”
“You treat me like a prostitute. Did you know that?” Bunny threw the jar of caviar in the sink, smashing it to smithereens.
All the energy drained out of Graham’s body. “Just leave, please. I can’t deal with this.”
“You think you can get rid of me that easy?”
“Apparently not.”
Bunny started to cry. “You’re so mean. I’ve only ever been nice to you.”
This was worse than her anger. Now he felt sick. He held his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths. That’s when he thought of something. “How did you get in here?”
“The door was unlocked. I thought I’d surprise you.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was. Oh, this is rich. Now I’m being accused of breaking into your house.” She grabbed the champagne bottle out of his hand. “I’ll take this, shall I, and don’t you dare come near me unless you intend to apologize.”
She stormed out into the night and left the door to bang in the wind. Graham walked over and shut it. He was sure it had been locked, but maybe he was crazy. He threw himself on the sofa and stared at nothing, oblivious to the tears that streamed down his face.
Chapter Nine
Life continued and things calmed down, as things usually do. Elsie took a week off to try and sort herself out. It was fall, Elsie’s favourite time of the year, so she spent most of her days out in the garden. She enjoyed the work involved in making sure her plants, bushes and shrubs weathered the winter. Every year she planted more bulbs and gathered the fallen leaves to use in her compost. By the end of every day her hands were raw with cold.
Aunt Hildy didn’t exactly apologize, but Elsie knew she was contrite. She made an effort to help with any small task, and liked to sit on the iron bench under the dogwood tree and polish Elsie’s gardening tools. She told stories about her mother and what plants she grew to help her family through the harsh Maritime winters.
Sometimes the girls joined them, Dahlia usually with a Modern Bride magazine in tow. She’d fill out the wedding quizzes and grill her mother on proper etiquette for every nuptial occasion.
“How can you be the mother of the bride, if you don’t know how to do it?”
Aunt Hildy finally spoke up. “What codswallop. Your mother is the mother of the bride. End of story.”
“Well, she’s suppose to know stuff.”
“Like what, pray tell?”
“Like who sits where at the head table and who stands where in the receiving line.”
Aunt Hildy slapped her hands on her knees, creating a puff of dust. “That’s ridiculous. Do you want to strangle every bit of joy out of your big day?”
Dahlia looked resentful. “I’m not.”
“I beg to differ. You make this ceremony sound about as much fun as a funeral march.”
Dahlia stuck out her chin. “Have you ever organized a wedding?”
“That’s none of your business, missy.” Aunt Hildy stood and walked quickly to the house.
She looked at her mom with big eyes. “I only asked a question.”
Elsie stuck her pitchfork in a mound of dirt. “Well, don’t.”
Inside, Robert was on his hands and knees behind the cupboard of the sewing room, attempting to pry off a piece of moulding with a butter knife.
He whispered to Juliet, who was keeping watch. “What room adjoins this one?”
“The bathroom. The far wall I think but I’m not sure.”
“Because there’s a hole behind this board. Maybe it’s a hiding spot.”
“I bloody well hope so. I’m tired of doing nothing but crawl around and ruin every pair of pants I own.”
“Where’s Faith? I don’t want her here.”
Juliet reassured him. “She’s in the laundry chute.”
“And the others?”
“They’re out in the garden.”
“Good.” He grunted. “I’ve almost got it. Just one more nail.”
The moulding popped off in his hand. “Pass me the flashlight.”
Juliet looked in the pocket of her sweater. She took out a small torch and turned it on. It didn’t work. “Damn. The battery’s dead.”
“Oh, typical.”
“It’s not my fault. I told you to get more.”
“Fine. Never mind.” Robert got down on his stomach and gingerly put his hand into the opening.
“Do you feel anything?”
“Just a lot of grit. This is disgusting work. If I get bitten by a spider, I might sue.”
His fingers felt around. Suddenly he touched something cold. It fe
lt like a hand. He screamed and bucked around on the floor as he tried to get his arm out of the hole.
On the other side of the wall, Faith did the same, hitting her head against the sink as she tried to get away from the hairy hand in the wall.
The two of them ran out of the adjoining rooms at the same time, screaming like children. Juliet hopped up and down. “What happened?”
Hildy hurried up the stairs, brandishing a cane. “Who died?”
Faith gasped and held her chest. “There’s a hand behind the wall in the bathroom.”
“I felt it too.” Robert slumped against the door jam. “Behind the sewing room cupboard. A dead body.”
Hildy stood still for a moment and processed the information. Then lowered her cane and said with exasperation, “Do you always shake hands with Faith through a layer of drywall?”
No one said anything.
“The sooner I die and get away from you people, the happier I’ll be.” She marched into her room and slammed the door.
They looked at each other. Juliet shot daggers at them equally. “I don’t know who’s more stupid.”
“Next time Robert,” Faith fumed, “When I’m upstairs, you stay downstairs. I don’t need any more grey hair.”
“If you’d stayed in the laundry chute, none of this would’ve happened.”
“I’ll send you a detailed report of my future whereabouts from now on. How will that be?” She stomped upstairs to the attic.
A couple of days later, Juliet phoned Faith to tell her that she and Robert had a bad case of the flu, so it was up to Faith to continue the search by herself. “An opportunity,” she whispered, “to find something without you-know-who around.”
What Juliet didn’t know was that it occurred to Faith that she’d like it if neither one of them showed up for a while. They’d been breathing down her neck and it annoyed her, especially after the bathroom incident.
With Elsie back to work the next morning, Faith thought she’d have the opportunity to nose around at her leisure, but almost instantly there was another snafu. Aunt Hildy declared she had a sniffle, so rather than venturing down to the garden, she spent the morning in bed. Disappointed she wouldn’t be able to snoop in her aunt’s room, Faith tackled the girls’ room instead, making sure to check on her dear aunt first.
She knocked lightly on the door.
“Enter.”
Faith walked in. Aunt Hildy sat in bed with what looked like an army jacket on, surrounded by books of all sorts, scribbling in a journal.
“I thought I’d write this morning, Aunt Hildy, so I wanted to know if you needed anything before I get started. It’s annoying to be on a creative roll, only to be interrupted.”
“I know all about interruptions, Faith. I’m enduring one now.”
“Sorry. So you’re okay then?”
“Yes, thank you. I’m fine. Toddle off.”
Faith stole a glance around the room. Talk about treasure. There were hundreds of items that would fetch a hefty sum. Surely, a few trinkets wouldn’t be missed. Hopefully her cold would be over soon.
The door closed, she snuck across the hall into Dahlia’s room. What a disaster times two—more clothes on the floor than in the closets or drawers. The bureau tops resembled cosmetic and jewellery counters.
If I were a treasure, where would I be? Probably right out in the open because with all this stuff thrown about, you’d never see it.
Faith picked her way across the room, throwing clothes about. Surely the girls had searched this room already, but maybe they’d found something and kept it from the rest of the family. She rifled through some of their bureau drawers just to be on the safe side, but that proved fruitless. There was nothing there but a fortune in pretty underwear. God. She’d worn bloomers at their age. Life was so unfair.
The makeup table that belonged to her mother was in the corner, its beauty lost, hidden under a mess of twisted cords attached to blow dryers and flatirons. Faith went over and sat on the upholstered bench in front of the mirror. She and her sisters had loved to watch their mother brush her long wavy brown hair before she twisted it into a bun at the nape of her neck. The silver brush and comb set she used was made in Vienna, a gift from her sister Hildy. Her mother would touch the engraved initials, and put it to her cheek.
Don’t think about Mom.
Moving quickly to the other side of the room, Faith felt around and looked in obvious spots, the back of the radiators, under the beds, and the window seat. She even used a chair to search the top of a large wardrobe. Finally she rifled through the closet, throwing things behind her in an attempt to expose the deep recesses of the space. That’s when she noticed an interesting mark on the wall—a square of newer paint applied over old.
She reached to touch the spot.
“Aww…I see you.”
Faith whipped around, her heart aflutter. She was busted.
“Do de do.”
“Who’s there?”
“Me no like.”
God. This was insane. Then she saw it. A stupid Furby come to life. She grabbed it.
“Whoa,” it protested.
Faith threw it against the opposite wall. A muffled “Again,” came from a pile of jeans.
“Shut up.”
It did.
“God damn toys they make nowadays,” she muttered. She turned her attention back to the wall. She felt around the square, tingling with excitement. The wall was softer in the middle. She pushed hard, and the square bit of gyprock fell into the hole.
She didn’t know what to do first: scream Hallelujah or pass out. She put her hand inside, mindful that if she bumped into something this time, she was in deep trouble.
Her hand touched something and she held her breath. If this was it, a new life beckoned. She lifted her prize out of its hiding spot—it was an old jewellery box. She closed her eyes and crossed herself. Even a Baptist needed help at a time like this. She opened the lid and squealed.
Inside was a pile of jewellery, just like in the movies or on a cartoon, all heaped together, apparently dumped in at the same time. The baubles looked more real than real. There had to be hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of stones in the settings alone.
“Thank you God,” she whispered to the closet ceiling. “I’ll never ask you for anything again.”
Realizing she better scram, she reached into the hole to retrieve the square bit of wall. It took a few moments to manoeuvre it back into place. Just as she threw Furby and a pile of stuff back in the closet to hide the evidence, Flower barked. She ran across the room and out the door. She had almost made it to the attic when Lily ran up the stairs.
Faith hid the jewellery box behind her back and inched toward her escape hatch.
“Hi. Have you found the treasure today, Aunt Faith? You wouldn’t keep something from us, would you?”
“Don’t be crazy. As if I’d do something like that.”
Lily started for her room when she turned. “What’s behind your back then?”
“There’s nothing behind my back!”
“Gee. What a grouch.”
Faith tried to recover. “It’s a box of cookies if you must know. I’m on a diet and it’s embarrassing to be caught, that’s all.”
Lily shrugged. “It’s your body.”
“That’s right. It is. So if you’ll excuse me.” She backed into her open door and disappeared.
That night the four kids were up until the wee hours playing 45’s at the kitchen table. It was slow-going, with Slater confused about the “thirty for sixty” rule.
“Why didn’t you bid, Slater?” Dahlia grumped.
“You told me not too. Don’t do anything, you said, unless I have every-thing. Well, I didn’t have everything. I didn’t have the ace of hearts.”
“No, I had the ace of hearts. You have to rely on your partner sometimes, you big lug.”
“Hey. How did I know you had it?”
“When your back’s against the wall you have
to risk it. These two creeps are only five points away from winning. You have to keep the bid away from them.”
Eli rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait to whip your butt, Dee. You’re the world’s biggest whiner when you lose.”
“How on earth would you know?”
“Your sister told me.”
Dahlia frowned. “Does my sister tell you everything about me?”
“There’s not that much to tell,” Lily laughed. “You lead a pretty boring life.”
Dahlia shuffled the cards. “Is that so? Well, there are a few things you don’t know about me. I’m not that boring, am I, Slater?”
“That’s for sure. You should see what…”
“Slater! Keep your mouth shut!”
Lily leaned across the table. “What? What did she do?”
“It’s none of your business,” Dahlia insisted.
“Then why did you bring it up? Is it something you’re ashamed of? Something you don’t want anyone to see?”
“If that’s the case you better get rid of it,” Eli said. “Someone might find it when they’re looking for the treasure.”
Dahlia and Slater looked at each other. He smacked his own head. “Where’d you put the pictures?”
Lily shoved Eli’s shoulder. “My god, you’re right. What about that thing you bought me.”
“What thing?” Dahlia and Slater asked together.
“A none-of-your-business thing.” Lily put her hand over her mouth. “What if Uncle Robert found it? Ewww!”
Eli jumped up. “What if your father finds it?”
“I told you to leave it at your place, but nooo. Wonderful Mrs.
Minelli might stumble across it. You guys take off. We have to go thing hunting.”
“Don’t forget the video,” Slater whispered as Dahlia pushed him out the door. Eli ran back to get his cards but Lily stopped him. “Never mind. Get them tomorrow. Go.”
The girls took the stairs two at a time and zoomed into their bedroom, both of them in a panic to remember favourite hiding places. Everything was rearranged because of the sharing of rooms and nothing was where it should’ve been.
“I can’t believe this,” Dahlia sobbed. “I can’t wait to get out of this nut house and into my own place, where I can put my pictures on the wall if I want to.”
