Secret Lives

by Diane Chamberlain

  “No, Sharon, it was my idea. Please give me a few minutes. It's very important.”

  Sharon glanced behind her, then opened the screen door and stepped out onto the front steps. She was very pretty, her skin pale and lightly freckled. She folded her arms across her chest and looked stonily at Eden.

  “I may be out of place,” Eden began, “but I have to tell you that I think it was Sam who hurt Bliss.”

  Sharon laughed. “Oh, brother. Now you're really reaching. I thought you were through with Ben? The paper said he lied to you and—”

  “I'm the one who lied. I lied to the press to save my own skin. And I was beginning to worry that he might be guilty. But today Sam came to see me.”

  “Does Sam really strike you as an abuser?”

  “Did Ben strike you as one?”

  Sharon's expression flattened. “I've gotten used to thinking of him that way.”

  “Sam touched my daughter.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She told me he pinched her bottom.”

  “Maybe she…misinterpreted.”

  “Maybe Bliss misinterpreted.”

  Sharon was quiet and Eden continued. “He told me he's betrayed Ben. What else could he mean?”

  “He means he feels guilty he hasn't been able to help him. It plagues him that he can't do more.”

  “Maybe that's not all he feels guilty about, Sharon. I think he wanted me to figure this out. He gave me enough clues, and he said he was absolutely certain it wasn't Ben. How else could he be so sure?”

  Sharon shrugged. “He adores Ben. He's never been able to accept the fact that his own brother could do something like that.”

  “When I saw Bliss at Green Gables she told me her daddy still visits her at night sometimes.”

  “She's dreaming.”

  “I think Sam is still abusing her.”

  Even in the dim light, Eden could see Sharon's cheeks flame. “You really have no right to come here and…” Sharon brushed her hair from her forehead and looked out toward the street. Eden could see her mind working. “Ben has got to be guilty,” Sharon said. “If he's not…I couldn't live with the knowledge that he's paid so much for something he didn't do.”

  A man appeared at the screen door. He was very tall and broad and his hair was red, something Eden had not expected in Jeff. “Everything all right out here?” he asked.

  “Yes, Jeff. I'll be in in a minute.” Sharon waited until Jeff had walked away from the door. “How is Ben?” she asked, and the tone of her voice told Eden that she had once loved Ben very much. Eden felt like crying again. Everyone had lost something in this game, not just Ben and his daughter.

  “I haven't seen him in a few days,” she said. “But my uncle says he's not good. He's depressed.” Eden looked up at the house. “He told me the two of you designed this house.”

  “Yes.”

  “Right now he lives in a cabin about the size of your garage. With no air-conditioning or—”

  Sharon narrowed her eyes. “Did he ask you to come here?”

  “He doesn't know any of this, Sharon. He doesn't want to see me. This really has nothing to do with Ben. I'm here because I'm a mother too and if someone thought my child was in danger, I'd want them to tell me. Sam said he was coming over here tomorrow night. If I were you, I wouldn't leave him alone with Bliss.”

  –45–

  Ben was just outside Annapolis and no closer to figuring out why Sharon wanted to see him than he'd been when he left the cabin. She'd called him just as he got in from the site to eat lunch. She was crying on the phone, crying so hard he could barely understand her, and he thought something must have happened to Bliss. “Bliss is all right,” she reassured him. “That isn't it.” But she needed to see him. Right away. He told her he could be there by three—it was nearly that now—and asked where he should meet her. He tensed when she said to come to the house.

  “Will Bliss be there?” he asked.

  “No. I'll make sure she's out.”

  He was afraid to see the house, afraid of the feelings it would elicit in him. He turned now onto Gracey Court and pulled over to the side of the road. He could see the house from here, set in a curve about a quarter mile from his truck. They'd looked for that lot for over a year. He could still remember their excitement when they first set eyes on the long, gentle arc of land backing to the thick blue-green forest and the river beyond. The house looked the same, the natural wood a rich brown. Sharon's blue Accord was in the driveway. He turned his pickup back onto the road and drove slowly toward his old home.

  Sharon answered the door. Her eyes were puffy, cheeks wet. She was a reluctant weeper and it frightened him to see this much pain in her face.

  She reached for him. “Ben.” Her arms circled his neck and he held her, his heart pounding. It was Bliss. It had to be Bliss. Something horrible had happened that Sharon hadn't wanted to tell him over the phone.

  “Is she alive?” he asked. “Sharon, please, just tell me she's alive.”

  “Yes, yes, she's all right.” She moved away from him and in that moment he saw the stretch of his pool in the backyard through the glassed living room wall, the lush curtain of pines behind it.

  “Sit down, Ben. Do you want something to drink?”

  “No. I want you to talk to me.”

  She sat at the opposite end of the sofa, as pale, as fragile-looking as he'd ever seen her. She put her hand over her mouth. “I know you're innocent,” she said.

  “It was Jeff,” he said, feeling a surge of fresh hatred for the man who'd taken his place.

  “No.” She shook her head and one tear, then another, slipped down her cheek. “I don't know how to tell you this, but…It was Sam, Ben.”

  Ben laughed. “Oh, come on.”

  Sharon moved closer to him and rested a cold hand on his arm. “We set him up last night,” she said. “He and Jen came over for the evening, and after Bliss went to bed Jen and I went shopping for baby clothes. Jeff told Sam he had to run to the store. But he didn't go. Instead he watched Bliss's room through her window, and when Sam went in Jeff went back in the house and confronted him. At first Sam said he was just checking on her, but then he broke down and admit-ted it had been him all along. The police took him in last night.”

  Ben stared at her as an icy chill settled into his blood. “There must be a mistake,” he said.

  Sharon kneaded her long pale hands together in her lap. “I'm the one who made the mistake when I didn't believe you. Oh God, Ben, I'm so sorry.”

  “This is crazy.” He stood up, running his hands through his hair. “Why would you suspect him in the first place? Why would you even think to set him up?”

  “Eden Riley figured it out.”

  “What?”

  “Something Sam said to her made her suspicious. She thought he wanted to get caught. She came to warn me. I thought at first that you'd put her up to it.”

  Ben closed his eyes, pressed his fingers to his temples. Eden had come here. She'd seen his house, talked to Sharon. But she hadn't spoken to him.

  “Maybe Sam just said he did it to get the heat off me,” he said.

  Sharon shook her head. “He's sick, Ben. Jen is devastated. The baby would have been here in a few months, and this will put an end to that.”

  Ben sat down again. He'd thought he knew his small world and all its players, whom he could trust and whom he couldn't. This made no sense at all.

  “I can't believe Sam would let me go through all this. He let me go to jail and lose my job He looked at Sharon. “And my marriage.” He knew he sounded childlike, hurt and bewildered, and when Sharon moved next to him and wrapped her arms around him he couldn't stop himself from letting out the tears.

  “All this morning I've been thinking about what you've lost,” Sharon said. “I can't stand it, Ben. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you. I never stopped loving you, though I felt guilty. I thought, what's wrong with me that I can still love this man who hurt my d
aughter?”

  He pulled away from her. “Our daughter, and I never hurt her. I want to see her. Where is she?”

  “They won't let you see her yet. She went to her counselor this morning, who said they have to prepare her a little more before she sees you.”

  “I don't give a damn what her counselor says. I'm sick of other people running my life. Where is she?”

  Sharon hesitated. “She's next door at Mary's. But Ben, listen to me. We have to do this carefully. She's been told for the past year and a half that you did bad things to her and had to stay away from her for her own protection. They have to clear the way for you a little.”

  Bliss was next door, a few yards from where he sat. He stood up. “I want to see her now.”

  Sharon rose and put her hand on his. “All right. But calm down first, Ben. Please.” She squeezed his hand. “You'll scare her. Everyone's told her now that it was Sam. He called her himself this morning after he was released on his own recognizance. But she's still confused.”

  Ben clenched his teeth together, determined to stay calm. “Please get her, Sharon, or I'll go over there myself.”

  Sharon was gone for a long time. Ben sat numbly on the sofa at first, then walked into the kitchen and leaned over the sink because he thought he was going to be sick.

  Sam.

  No, he wouldn't think about Sam right now. He was going to see Bliss. One trauma at a time. Would she be afraid of him? He couldn't stand that thought. He splashed cold water on his face and returned to the living room just as Sharon and Bliss walked in the door.

  Bliss was taller, her arms and legs long and far too thin. She held Sharon's hand and looked at him, uncertain and unsmiling, and his heart cracked in two. He walked over to her and knelt down to take her in his arms while Sharon let go of her hand and stepped into the kitchen. He could hear Sharon crying while he held his daughter, who was so stiff and delicate that she felt brittle beneath his arms. He leaned back to look at her. Her big gray eyes were clear. “Don't cry,” she said.

  “I can't help it. I'm so happy to see you. I've missed you very, very much.”

  Bliss looked anxiously toward the kitchen. “Mama?”

  “I'm right here, Bliss.” Sharon appeared in the doorway, gamely smiling, clutching a tissue.

  Bliss looked back at Ben. “Where did your beard go?”

  She had never seen him without his beard. He must seem even more of a stranger to her. “I shaved it off. Do you think I look better or worse?”

  “Worse,” she said, and he thought he detected the hint of a smile.

  He sat back on his heels. “Do you understand what's going on?”

  Bliss nodded. Her bangs were too long and caught on her pale eyelashes when she blinked. “Sam said you never did bad things to me. He make-believed he was you.”

  “That's right,” Ben said, although he still did not believe it himself. “And then I had to go away because the police thought I hurt you and they wanted to protect you. But now they know I didn't do it and I can see you anytime I want.” He looked up at Sharon and she nodded.

  “Do you want to see my new Barbie?” Bliss asked.

  Barbie dolls? Bliss? He would have to get to know this strange little girl all over again. “Yes, I would.” He stood up and started toward her room, but she held back.

  “Mama has to come too,” she said, and as Sharon joined them in the hallway he wondered how long it would be before Bliss felt comfortable with him alone. He would be patient. He would regain her trust bit by bit. And she would put on weight and lose that gaunt, frightened look. She would start to smile again. But it tore him up inside to know that she would be haunted by the demons of this last year for the rest of her life.

  Sam himself opened the door and Ben immediately saw the effects of a night in jail on his brother's features. His hair was uncombed, the lines in his face deep and dark, his eyes red. He looked older, beaten down. The transition was frightening and seeing it allayed some of Ben's anger.

  Sam stood back to let him in.

  “Where's Jen?” Ben asked.

  “Gone to her parents.”

  Sam walked into the kitchen and Ben followed. “I didn't know if you'd come over or not,” Sam said. He took two beers from the refrigerator, set one on the breakfast bar for Ben, and popped the other open for himself. He took a long drink and Ben marveled at his own reaction to this man. Driving over here, he'd pictured himself bursting through the door in a rage, pummeling his brother into the carpet. But now he felt calm. He had a sense of being outside himself, watching this scene unfold.

  “How could you do it?” he asked.

  Sam sat on one of the barstools and looked Ben in the eye. He let out a long sigh. “Do you mean, how could I fondle Bliss or how could I let you take the rap for it?”

  “Everything.” Ben felt the anger rising and worked to keep it down. “And skip the euphemisms, okay? You didn't fondle Bliss, you molested her. Jesus, Sam.” He shook his head. “I feel as though I don't know you at all.”

  “There's a lot about me nobody knows.” Sam set his beer on the counter. “I love Bliss,” he said. “I was jealous of you—it was so easy for you and Sharon. One day you decide to try to have a baby and the next day Sharon's pregnant. And Bliss was so beautiful. I never hurt her, Ben, you've got to believe that. I mean, I was always very gentle with her.”

  Ben slammed his own beer down on the counter. “How can you say that? You're a psychiatrist, for Christ's sake. You know the toll this is taking on her.”

  Sam shook his head. “I was gentle. And I never meant for you to get the blame. The first night I was with her, she was so sleepy and out of it, she assumed I was you and I just played along with it. I didn't let her get a look at me. Then when the shit hit the fan, I thought for sure you'd get off and it would all blow over. When it didn't, I just gave in. Learned to live with the guilt, I suppose. I'm sorry, Ben. There's no way I can tell you how sorry I am.” He looked at his brother. “You don't know what it's like to be this way. I can't control it. I'd be at your house and picture Bliss asleep in her bed and I just couldn't help myself.”

  Ben stared at the stranger in front of him. “Have there been others?”

  Sam looked down at the bar. “A few over the years.” He sighed, rubbed his eyes. “It's probably best they lock me up.”

  “I don't understand when you did it.”

  “When we'd be at your house and I could figure out a way…like one night when we were all in the pool and Bliss was already in bed and I said I wasn't feeling well and went into the guest room to lie down. Only I never went to the guest room.”

  Ben remembered that particular night. Poor Bliss. He'd been laughing in the pool with Sharon and Jen and she'd been completely vulnerable in her bedroom. And then the scene formed in his mind. The image he'd been avoiding slipped in so fast he couldn't stop it. He saw Sam behind his daughter, saw him undressing her, touching her, and he began to shake with rage. He stood up and grabbed Sam by the collar, yanking him off the stool and pressing him up against the bar.

  “I hate you for this,” he said. He pulled back his fist and let it fly. Sam's head snapped to the side and blood pooled at the corner of his lip. He shut his eyes, waiting for the next blow, waiting as though he knew he deserved it, as though he welcomed it. He looked wretched, pitiful. And ruined.

  Ben let go of him and went into the kitchen. He wrapped a few cubes of ice in a dish towel and leaned across the bar to press it into Sam's hand. Then he walked to the door, but before he left he turned to take one last look at his brother. Sam was leaning against the wall, eyes closed, holding the dish towel to the side of his face. Two round red drops of blood sat like rubies on his collar.

  “Maybe someday I can forgive you for what you've done to me,” Ben said. “But I'll never forgive you for what you've done to my daughter.”

  He spent the next morning at the university, negotiating his reinstatement for the spring semester. He thought of calling Alex
Parrish, but he was still too angry with his old friend. Let Alex learn about it through the grapevine and wallow in guilt for a few days. Let Alex be the one to call him.

  He spent the afternoon with Bliss and Sharon before heading back to Virginia. Once on the road, though, it was not Bliss who filled his thoughts but Eden. Insane. He'd been given back his daughter, his job, his life. Yet he wasn't satisfied. He'd lost Eden in all of this. He'd call her to thank her, but he wouldn't see her. In that statement to the press she'd said she was looking forward to returning to California. “I want to put this past summer behind me,” she'd said. Fine. He would do the same.

  When he reached the Shenandoah Valley, he turned onto the back roads running through the string of small towns. The first little village was Gloverton, just four blocks long. When he reached its west end, he spotted the marquee on the tiny movie theater. Heart of Winter. He pulled over to the side of the road and stared at the sign, feeling as though he'd driven into the Twilight Zone. Heart of Winter had long been out of the major theaters. This sign was only here to torment him.

  He got out of his truck and checked the time of the movie. Seven o'clock. He had an hour to kill. He ate a hamburger and fries at a little cafe and walked the length of Gloverton, four blocks east and four west. Then he settled down in one of the theater's hard vinyl seats and waited.

  The opening music was powerful. He hadn't noticed it before, but now he felt moved by it to the point of pain. Then the movie began and he wondered why he was torturing himself, watching Eden with Michael Carey. She was different on the screen; her voice, her expressions were not her own. This was Eden Riley the actress. He knew the real woman. Did Carey? With increasing agitation he watched the relationship grow between the two actors, and he left before the hotel room scene. He'd gotten back in his truck and was out on the road before he realized how fast his heart was beating, as though he'd escaped from a great danger just in time. It would have done him no good at all to watch that scene, to see her blouse fall open for the camera, to see Carey plunge his hands beneath her skirt, to see her toss her head back with a shower of blond hair. He didn't need to see it to remember it.