Miller's Secret

by Tess Thompson

  Mary turned a knife from one side to the other and nodded.

  Teddy had not stopped staring at his small aunt since they left the station, clearly enamored with her. In the bright light from the window, Phil took a good look at her sister. She was too thin, and there were half-moon shadows under her eyes.

  “Was the sleeper car good to sleep in?” asked Phil. She hadn’t had a sleeper car when she traveled. The five-day trip had been exhausting and grimy, with every smell known to humanity passing through the car at one point or other during the trip.

  Mary shrugged.

  “I didn’t have a sleeper car ticket when I came out,” said Phil. “I learned to sleep sitting up.”

  Miller put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “You’ll never have to travel that way again.”

  Mary’s eyes darted from Phil to Miller and back again. Given their background, Mary had not seen men and women sitting together like this unless they were married. How was she to explain all this to her?

  Their food came then. Phil cut her burger in half and put it on a napkin for Teddy, along with some of the crispy French fries. He tucked in right away, as did Miller. “Feels like we haven’t eaten in days,” he said.

  “This has been a long day,” said Phil.

  Mary chewed on the end of a fry, watching Teddy. After a moment she smiled and turned back to her plate. She picked up her burger and took a small bite. Her eyes widened in what looked like appreciation as she chewed. Then, she took a sip of her vanilla milkshake. Another smile.

  “Did you eat on the train?” asked Phil.

  Her sister gave her the same noncommittal shrug as she had when Phil asked about the sleeping car.

  “Was Holly good to you? Did she feed you?” asked Phil.

  Mary nodded.

  “Well, when you’re ready to talk, I’d like to hear your voice,” said Phil. She teared up and looked out the window. On the sidewalk, a young man stood near a streetlight, looking at them. When he saw her peering back, he averted his eyes and walked away. Terrible manners to stare at a person. People were different in California. Perhaps the sunshine made everyone bolder, freer. She turned back to look at Mary. Half of her burger was gone. She was eating. That’s all that mattered right now. Whatever trauma she’d experienced, at least she hadn’t lost her appetite.

  Teddy held one of his french fries out to Mary. “Me share.”

  Mary smiled at him and picked up one of her own fries. She took the fry from his outstretched hand and shook the other at him. Teddy’s eyes darted to his mother.

  “Yes, it’s all right,” said Phil. “She wants to share with you, too.”

  He grinned, then snatched the fry, popping the entire thing into his mouth.

  Miller cleared his throat and straightened his tie before slipping from the booth. “Excuse me, I have to make a phone call before we go home. I won’t be long.”

  When he was out of earshot, Phil wiped Teddy’s mouth. “Moo, do you remember when I left home.”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  Mary’s voice. She spoke. Thank God. “It was a long time ago now.” Phil kept her tone even, afraid to spook her with too much excitement.

  “Twelve-hundred and twenty-one days,” said Mary.

  She stared at her sister. Mary had picked up another fry and, head down, seemed to be studying it.

  “You counted the days?” asked Phil.

  “Yes, and I wished every day you would send for me. Then one day they died and it finally came true.” Her voice trembled and giant tears fell down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault.”

  “That they died? Because you wanted to be with me? Is that what you think?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, Moo, no, no. Just because you wanted to escape from them doesn’t mean you caused their death. It was more likely Father’s terrible driving. He drove way too fast. Around corners especially.”

  “What does it mean when they say a car was wrapped around a tree?” asked Mary.

  “It means the accident was very bad.”

  “Mother made an apple pie before we left for church. It smelled good and she caught me sniffing it real close and called me a pig and said I couldn’t have any now that I chose to put my dirty nose so close to it. Said I was bound to grow up fat.”

  “Oh, little Moo, you’re not a pig,” said Phil. You’re my precious baby sister. I will not let anyone call you a name ever again. That hateful, awful woman. Damn you to hell, Mother.

  “Why did you call me Moo? I can’t remember that part,” asked Mary.

  “That’s what you called yourself when you were small. You couldn’t say Mary, I guess. It came out ‘Moo.’ It was adorable. You were adorable.”

  When Miller came back, they paid the bill and got up to leave.

  “Is everything all right?” asked Phil as they walked out the door of the restaurant and onto the crowded street. She adjusted the brim of her hat against the bright afternoon sun.

  He tapped the brim of her hat with his index fingers. “Yes, my beautiful. I have something unpleasant to take care of in the next few weeks.”

  “Something unpleasant?”

  “But necessary.”

  She assumed it was something to with his job and didn’t ask any further questions. Miller didn’t like it when she asked questions. Taking Mary’s hand, she pointed down the street. “Come along, Moo. We’ll take you home so you can see the ocean.”

  **

  When they walked in, the cottage smelled of wood shavings. A hammer pounded furiously for a moment, then stopped. “What’s that horrific noise?” asked Miller.

  It was Henry. Putting together the bed. Phil chose her words carefully. “It’s a bunk bed for the kids to share.”

  Teddy tugged on her arm and jumped up and down with excitement. “Bed.”

  “From where?” asked Miller.

  “Henry’s shop,” said Phil.

  “I see.” Darkness, like a mask, covered his features. He looked like a monster. “What did I tell you?”

  “I know.” She lowered her voice, hoping he would do the same. “He offered, knowing Mary was coming. A landlord’s responsibility, or something like that. Is what he said, I mean.” Stuttering. She was stuttering. Hatred rose to her throat from the pits of her stomach. She loathed this man. How dare make her bow down and grovel. Her hands itched, wanting to claw at his face, make him suffer.

  “He’s quite a landlord,” said Miller.

  She set her purse on the table near the front door, her insides twisting, praying that he let it go. “Moo, do you want to see your room? You’ll have to share with Teddy because it’s not a very big house.”

  Teddy toddled over to Mary and held out his hand. “Me show Mary.”

  Mary took Teddy’s hand, speaking in a motherly tone. “When I was your age, I shared a room with your mother. I loved it.”

  “You, me, share?” asked Teddy.

  “That’s right. And you won’t have to be scared any longer,” said Mary.

  “Me never scared,” said Teddy.

  “Well, me neither,” said Mary. “I’m ten years old, you know.”

  “Me is three,” said Teddy. “Wave scared me, right, Mommy?”

  “Yes, darling. It scared us all,” said Phil. “But we’ll tell Mary about that some other time.”

  They disappeared down the hallway, Teddy babbling about his bucket and the wave.

  “You need to do something about how that boy talks,” said Miller.

  “He’s fine,” said Phil. She followed them to the bedroom. Henry must have just finished. The banging had stopped and the bed was put together. “Ah, good timing.” Henry placed his hammer into his toolbox. “Everyone arrive then?”

  “Yes, this is Mary. And Mary, this is Henry. He’s our landlord and lives in the cottage next door.” She sensed Miller’s presence in the doorway, like a heat lamp on a hot day, permeating the room.

  Mary fluttered her fingers, then moved
closer to Teddy.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mary,” said Henry.

  Miller crossed over to stand next to Phil. “Thank you for this lovely piece, Mr. Sayer. I think we can take it from here.”

  “Sure,” said Henry. “I’m on my way over to the Thomas’s. Mrs. Thomas has a jam delivery she needs help with.” He held out his hand to Miller. They shook. “Pleasure to see you again.” He nodded at the rest of them. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” His footsteps were heavy down the hallway. All she wanted was for him to be here with them. For a moment, she couldn’t move. It was impossible to continue without Henry. Pain pierced her chest.

  Teddy started to show Mary all his toys, naming each one in his breathy voice. Teddy and Mary. She must stay strong for them. This was all for them. Her own feelings and desires must be secondary.

  “I need a drink,” said Miller. He strode out of the room, and on feet made of lead, she followed him. He went to the liquor cabinet and poured whiskey into a glass. “You want one?” he asked.

  “No, thank you.”

  “I have to leave, get back to the city, and then I’m headed south for a few days. Family obligations.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  He took a drink from his glass, then set it on a table near the sofa, pulling on his tie. “Can I trust you, Phil?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you fucking the one-armed landlord?”

  “Miller, my God.” She glanced toward the bedrooms, hoping the children hadn’t overheard him.

  He sat on the sofa, pulling his tie completely from his neck and picking up his drink. “I’ll send Joseph out here for the rest of the bloody summer if I have to.”

  “It’s not necessary.” She went to the liquor cabinet, keeping her voice steady and light. Suddenly, a drink sounded good. “I have the children here, for heaven’s sake. What do you think could happen?”

  He grunted, emptied his glass, then thumped it onto the coffee table.

  She poured a drink with her back to him, counting the seconds of silence, then took a sip. The drink was warm and smooth down her throat. Mary was here. Mary was hers to care for. Mary was hers to heal from the abuses of their mother. Phil fought a growing sense of terror. Keeping Miller happy was paramount. Turning to him as she sipped her drink, she looked at him over the rim of her glass. “Miller, you have to trust me. I think you know I can’t live without you.”

  “You can’t live without my money.”

  She knelt at his feet, setting her drink aside, and put her hand on his thigh. “That’s not the only reason. I was positively green with envy this afternoon. Holly Moore’s a beauty. You could have her or anyone you wanted. I know how special it is that you chose me.”

  He placed his fingers around her wrist. “Tell me you love me.”

  “You know I do.”

  “Say it. I want to hear the words.”

  “I love you.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I do. Yes, it was an arrangement that kept me off the streets, but that was then. You saw something between us that I didn’t. I’ve grown to love you, Miller.”

  He gazed into her eyes and let go of her wrist. A flicker of triumph crossed his face. “Phil, I’m willing to blow up my entire life to be with you. I want to marry you. Make this official. You won’t have to hide anymore. I want to give you everything.”

  “This is enough.” Her pulse throbbed at her neck. What did he mean? I’m willing to blow up my entire life. “I understand you have responsibilities to your wife and family. I’m satisfied with the arrangements as they are.”

  “But for how long? How long until Henry Sayer starts to look good to you? Until he manages to steal you from me.”

  Lie. Think of something. Convince him. “Darling, Henry Sayer has absolutely no appeal to me. He’s about as interesting as watching towels dry on the line. He builds furniture for a living. Do you think a man like him is appealing after being with you? Truly. You have nothing to worry about.”

  He stared at her, as if trying to decipher a code to open the inside of her brain. “Are you saying I’m being a jealous idiot?”

  She bit the inside of her mouth, hoping to draw blood, so tears would flood to her eyes. He always believed her when she cried. “Yes, you’re being silly. Don’t you know by now how loyal I am to you?”

  “Yes, yes, I do. I can’t think rationally when I’m with you.” He put both hands in her hair, brushing his thumbs against her neck, making her shiver.

  She must let him think she shivered from desire, not repulsion. “Think of how I feel about your wife. It’s awful. I can’t sleep or eat, thinking of you with her.”

  Something akin to anger passed over his features. He glanced at the ceiling, like a fly had suddenly caught his interest. “You’ve made me very happy. Do you know that? I can’t stand the thought of leaving you, but I have to go. This thing I have to take care of is important.”

  “I understand you have to keep up appearances and I’m happy for whatever time we have together.” If only she could cry on demand, act as if his leaving was devastating as opposed to the opposite. When he left, she would be able to breathe again. Now, the room was airless. “We’ll be like a family when you’re here.”

  He closed his eyes. An expression of peacefulness crossed his features, like a man suddenly relieved of pain. “That’s all I want. All of us to be together.”

  PART V

  August 1946

  CHAPTER ONE

  Caroline

  MORNING FOG FLOATED OVER THE SEA like translucent fabric. Beyond, a strip of blue promised another bright August afternoon. Caroline wore a loose, sleeveless dress and her walking shoes, a layer of perspiration on her skin. She walked fast, swinging her arms, until she was near her parents’ house, the grass on the cliff still wet with dew, making a dark patch on the top of her shoes. At the edge of the cliff she stopped to sit and cool down on the bench Father had placed there to watch the sunset or read a book or sit and dream. A stick lay at her feet, about four feet tall and at least two inches in diameter and bent slightly at the end. She had picked it up earlier for Audrey, who had been looking for the perfect walking stick for weeks.

  It was Audrey’s latest romantic notion after reading an English novel about a young man who used a walking stick when escorting his betrothed on their daily walk. Audrey had described to her the need for such a stick, with a dreamy look in her eyes. Caroline had been romantic at that age, too. They were ten the year she made Julius marry her on the beach. She’d made a dress and veil out of seaweed, and stuck a large piece of driftwood into the sand for the preacher. Julius made rings from the long grasses, twisting several strands together and tying them in a circle.

  Footsteps behind her made her turn. Julius waved a greeting as he approached. She smiled, her spirits immediately lifted at the sight of him, dressed as usual in a tan linen suit and light blue tie, his sun-bleached hair falling into his eyes. No medical bag. He must not be on his way somewhere. Maybe he would stay for lunch? “Speaking of the devil,” she called out to him. “I was just thinking of you.”

  “Well, then, we’re even, because I was thinking of you and decided to come by and see how you were feeling.”

  They greeted one another with a swift embrace, and then he sat next to her on the bench. “You’re looking particularly pretty this morning,” he said. “Exercise always makes your cheeks such a lovely pink.”

  She flushed. “Thank you, Julius. You know how I love compliments.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I do.”

  “Are you on your way somewhere without your bag?” she asked.

  “I’m taking the day off, unless someone calls. How are you feeling?”

  “Better. Still nauseous when I first wake up, but it’s a little better, I think.”

  “Good to hear.”

  She waved the stick at him. “Audrey’s been looking for a walking stick. I think I found one.”

  He smiled a
nd took the stick from her. “She told me the other day when I was at the house. She’s one of a kind. Like her mother.” From his pocket, he pulled out a small knife. “I’ll carve a sharp end for her. It’ll make it easier to stick in the ground.”

  She cocked her head, observing him. “Am I one of a kind? I always think I’m quite ordinary.”

  “No, not ordinary.” With a flick of the knife, he cut into the wood. The shavings fell at their feet.

  She wondered what he meant exactly, but was too shy to ask. “I was thinking of the time I made you marry me on the beach. Do you remember?”

  He turned to look at her, smiling. “Sure. I remember it well. I made rings out of grass.”

  “Yes, that’s right. You were good to me, playing my silly games.” She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath through her nose, feeling drowsy and content with Julius beside her, the noise of his whittling in rhythm to the waves. “I love the smell of the sea. It always makes me think of you—you and the sea intermingled in my mind. I was in love with you back then. Since I can remember, it was always you.”

  The sound of his carving stopped. She opened her eyes. He was staring at her, his complexion ashen, like he’d seen a ghost. “What’s the matter? Are you feeling ill?” she asked.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t know what?” she asked.

  “That you loved me.”

  “Of course you knew.”

  “I had no idea,” he said.

  She patted his hand with her own. “Sometimes I wonder how we can be a patriarchal society. Men are so stupid.”

  “How come you never told me? I mean, back then,” he asked.

  “I expected you knew. It seemed obvious to me.”

  He shook his head. “No, not to me. Not at all.”

  “Anyway, I would’ve rather died rather than have you know. I knew you could never love a fat girl.”

  “Why do you always say that? You were not fat.”

  She laughed. “Julius, I was fat.”

  “I never saw you that way. To me you were strong, athletic. You could do anything I could do. Run up a hill, swim, dig giant holes in the sand.”