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Authors: Jackie Weger

No Perfect Secret (28 page)

BOOK: No Perfect Secret
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Dr
Neal coaxed out of Anna how she felt after learning of Kevin’s duplicity in her marriage. “I showered for an hour. I just felt dirty.”

“You felt shame, Anna. We women cloak ourselves in it
—when it isn’t even our burden. The shame is with Kevin.”

“He never felt shame,” said Anna, filled with righteous anger. “He just used me and used me and used me.” That she had allowed it to happen was an indictment of her own judgment and maturity. Her int
ellect, too. “I feel utterly...utterly...
stupid
.”

Dr
Neal smiled her lovely smile, showing her small straight teeth. “Anna, do you think I’m stupid?”

“Of course not.”

“Why not?”

Anna flustered. “Well, look at all of your diplomas and certificates.” She
pointed to a medical journal. “Isn’t that your picture on the front? You’re director of psychiatry at this hospital, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. When I was thirty-eight, and had all of those degrees and my license to practice in hand, I married the man of my dreams. He was gorgeous,
GQ
all the way. His words were silk, his touch like velvet. My parents and grandparents adored him. My older brother even went into business with him. Three days after we returned from our honeymoon, he spent the night with his mistress. He even got my brother to cover for him, telling me they had worked all night on a contract. He went to a medical conference with me. I was a presenter. When my colleagues were complimenting me, he said, ‘Hell yes, she’s good. She reads guilt like a newspaper. Knows before I do when I’m gonna slip around on her.’

“The psychiatrist in me was saying,
Hello.
But the woman in me was saying:
What am I doing wrong? How did I let this happen?
I was mortified by his behavior—especially in front of my colleagues. They were embarrassed for me. What confused me was that he was a great dad. We had adopted a little girl from China. He was then, and is now, totally in awe of her. She attends Julliard, and he never misses her concerts. But he just wasn’t husband material. He loved the chase, but not the catching. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. The same way you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You divorced him?”

“Yes, I did, to the dismay of my mother, who still thinks he’s Mr Wonderful.”

“But, did you stop loving him in an instant?”

Dr Neal was quiet for a moment, thinking. “You know, I think I did. As soon as that awful remark was out of his mouth.”

“I stopped loving Kevin the moment Janie told me she was his wife. She had his baby in her arms. I just couldn’t get past that.” She folded her hands in her lap, a flus
h rising to her cheeks. “And...and...I’m thinking of having an affair.”

Dr
Neal’s eyes twinkled. “You don’t need my approval, Anna.”

“I guess not. But I do need a prescription for birth control pills.”

“Oh, my goodness. I almost forgot.” Dr Neal pulled out a drawer and lifted a pad of notes, glanced at it and returned it to the drawer. “You had some questions about codes or symbols in Kevin’s notebooks.”

“I asked Frank about that a few days ago.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. H
e was beside himself. He was...fractious—waving his hands around. We were out to dinner. I thought for minute he was choking.”

“Perhaps he was, but not on food. What was coded was very personal
—and about you.”

“Me?” Anna pointed to herself as if she misheard.
“Me?”

“What all those dates and symbols had to do with is the rhythm system. It’s a guide to when women ovulate and can become pregnant. Or, not
—if intercourse does not take place.”

“We were trying
—” The shoe dropped. “
I
was trying to get pregnant. Those dates.” For a moment she couldn’t breathe. “Kevin was making sure I didn’t. Oh, that explains so much. The arguments over inconsequential nothings. What I cooked for dinner—or didn’t. His pouting and only coming to bed after I was asleep. The silent treatment. He had these moods, and there was just no way to please him.”

Dr
Neal nodded. “All of those behaviors are forms of manipulation.”

Anna exhaled softly. “Well, he was a master at it, because I never suspected a thing. I even insisted we see a fertility specialist. Nothing was wrong with either one of us.” Anna slipped into the past, recalling Kevin’s soothing words.
“It will happen, darling. We’ll be pregnant when you least expect it.”

Her hands twisted into fists.

“Damn him. Damn him. Damn him. My entire life with him was a lie. I am not even his widow. I don’t know what I am.”

“Yes, you do,”
Dr Neal countered. “You’re a beautiful young woman caught up in a tragic situation not of your making. I’m asking you not to spend your emotions and energies grieving for what might have been.”

“That’s hard to do. I mean, I know I can’t change anything. I’m distraught because Kevin betrayed me. And, I find myself thinking really hateful things about
Clara-Alice.”

“Clara has a severe personality disorder, Anna. Don’t think I’m excusing her behavior, because I’m not. However, her son put an immense amount of pressure on her to keep his secrets. She couldn’t make herself strike out at him, so she chose you. The anxiety she’s felt these past few weeks has exacerbated the disorder. And, of course, over the years, he has had to keep her secret, too.”

“Clara-Alice has a secret?”

“Her son was an out-of-wedlock baby. Miss Calloway faxed his birth certificate over. She was twenty-eight. Father: unknown. She lived for some months in a shelter for unwed mothers. Nesmith is her maiden name.”

Anna wasn’t giving attention to Clara-Alice being an unwed mother. That would come later. Right now she was thinking about another lie. About Kevin telling her he had promised his dad to always take care of his mother. She simmered, feeling angst sucking at the foundation of the new life she was trying to build for herself. “Clara-Alice told me she got pregnant with Kevin on her honeymoon.

“I want this to be over with,” she said, her voice strained. “I just want it to end. I want the funeral over with. I want
Clara-Alice to be settled somewhere. Once that happens, I think I can get on with my life. I will get on with my life.”

“You can get on with your life starting today, Anna. Don’t put it off.”
Dr Neal pulled out a pad and wrote Anna two prescriptions. Then she reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and drew out a cigarette and a lighter. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car. I want to have a smoke before I do afternoon rounds.” She saw the surprise on Anna’s face, and laughed. “Now you know my secret. I discipline myself to three a day. One in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one before bed.”

Anna stopped briefly in the lobby to admire the towering tree. “I love the Christmas season,” she said wistfully. “I love the hustle and bustle of shopping, the music, wrapping presents
—”

Dr
Neal tugged at her arm. “Don’t go melancholy on me, Anna. You’ve been focused on one unpleasant event after another. Think of the big picture. No matter what happens, you’ll come out just fine. You’re single, attractive, and well-educated. That makes for an independence that many would envy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll discipline myself to three five-minute pity parties a day.”

Dr Neal laughed. “Oh, boy—I walked into that one.” She pulled her lab coat tight around herself. “Wow. It’s cold. I think I’m going to leave you here. Have a nice holiday trip. Enjoy yourself. Soak up the sun.”

Anna smiled. “Is that a prescription, too?”

“It is. I have a number of patients who suffer from SADs; Seasonal Affective Disorder—not enough sunlight. Skews their brains and causes depression. I send them to sunny climes. Let’s talk again after the holidays.”

Anna lingered in the parking lot, sitting in her car, letting the interior warm as the sky darkened, an island of silence in the midst of a bustling world. She didn’t feel free, not entirely. She was carrying too much baggage. She thought about Frank Caburn, the shape of his hands, and how it felt to be in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Warmth radiated through her, filling her with such a yearning that she ached. They had not even kissed
—not really. The little peck on the side of her mouth under the mistletoe didn’t count. She fingered the prescriptions in her coat pocket. The papers were crisp and cold. There was no one in the world now who knew how wild her passion. It had been restrained for so long, she thought she’d burst.

Halogen lights on their tall silver poles came on in the parking lot, sending wavering light into the misting cold. Anna sat up straighter. Holy smokes! How long had she been daydreaming? Lila was waiting for her. Since neither of them would be home
on Christmas Day, they were cooking and delivering food tonight and tomorrow for the neighborhood shut-ins. And she still had summer clothes to wash, iron, and pack.

 

~~~~

 

“I wish my dishwasher wasn’t on the blink,” complained Lila, her hands deep in soapy water. “But, it’s just me—I don’t use that many dishes.”

Anna checked the four chickens baking in the oven. They were stuffed with cornbread seasoned with sage, onions, celery, and butter, and basted with pure chicken bouillon. Four pecan pies cooled on the kitchen counter. Fresh cranberries were popping on a back burner. “Stop washing dishes and pour yourself a glass of wine. I’ll finish up. It won’t be much. It just looks like a lot with all these pots and tins scattered.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. What do you want to drink?”

“Diet Coke. I have too much yet to do to get sluggish on wine tonight.”
Anna stirred sugar into the cranberries and when the liquid came clear moved the pot off the stove.

Lila took a long sip of sherry. “Did you tell all of your friends back home about Kevin?”

“Nope. I signed all my Christmas cards, love, Anna. That will give them a hint. I’ll figure out something to tell them after the funeral. If I tell them before, they’ll send flowers. He doesn’t deserve that kind of caring.”

“But, the flowers would be for you.”

“Actually, I don’t even want to do the funeral. I know it sounds disrespectful. If Clara-Alice was in better shape, I’d let her do it. But, she isn’t.”

The timer pinged. Anna took the chickens out of the oven and put in the green bean casseroles. All of the meals were being cooked and delivered in disposable aluminum pans. She leaned against the sink.

“I’ve decided to sell or lease my house, Lila. I just don’t think I’d be happy living there anymore. I want to live in the Adam’s-Morgan area or down by the Eastern Market. I loved it there. Plus, it’s closer to work.”

“Adam’s-Morgan! Girl, you’ll have to pay both arms and a leg for that.”

“I know. But our homes are worth a small mint in this area. We have front yards, back yards. You have a garage.”

“What’s a small mint?”

“Probably in the 300,000 range.”

Lila went pale. “Dollars?”

“Easily.”

“Wow. I could buy a little condo in Florida.” She took a huge swallow of sherry. “
—and have money left over to travel.” After a few thoughts, Lila sobered. “Anna, I know this whole mess hasn’t been easy on you, but if Kevin had not been such a scalawag and Clara-Alice hadn’t gone off the rails, we wouldn’t have met so many nice people. I’ve become a surrogate grandmother to Clarence and JoJo. I like Helen and Louise, too; and, Frank.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “He’s got his eye on you. You like him, don’t you?”

Anna felt her neck grow warm. “I do. I tried not to, but I really do.”

“Good golly, Anna. Don’t fight it. If there is any single thing I learned during the War, it’s to grab life while it’s handy. Why be faithful to Kevin’s memory? He wasn’t faithful to you. Maybe you can push things along with Frank while you’re in Cancun.”

“Maybe,” replied Anna, thinking of the prescriptions she had yet to fill
—one of which was for the ‘morning after’. Dr Neal was forward thinking, but that one she’d trash. She’d longed for a child for so long there was no way she’d undo an accidental pregnancy. Or perhaps she’d fill neither.  Asking for the prescription had seemed the right thing to do.

Her cell phone rang once
—then a second time before she located it beneath an oven mitt. “Speaking of the devil,” she said to Lila, an impish gleam in her eye.

“Hi, Frank.”

“How did your day go?”

“Good. Everything is good.”

“Could I see you for a few minutes? Or maybe take you out for a burger?”

“Yes and no. I’m at Lila’s, and will be for another hour or so
—if you want to stop by.”

“Let me talk to the big guy,” said Lila, reaching for Anna’s phone.

“Hey, you good-looking hunk, when are you gonna take me dancing again?”

“Miss Lila, are you flirting with me?”

“I sure am. I’m showing Anna how it’s done.”

BOOK: No Perfect Secret
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