Secret Whispers Read online

  “No. I’ve received no mail.”

  She nodded. “I had a suspicion. Your father told us how he doesn’t want any deception in this house. It’s a very special house, and you’re special people. I didn’t think it was my place to say anything about your mail, but I don’t like us being unjustly accused of things, either.”

  “No, you shouldn’t like it, and you shouldn’t be accused,” I said.

  “If you tell her I told you, she’ll be very upset with me, I’m sure, and probably go complaining to your father, but I haven’t lived this long and worked this long for good people to end up sneaking about and tiptoeing around so as to make myself invisible. If someone can’t stand the sight of you, you don’t wish them to be blind. You just walk off. That’s what me mum taught me,” she said. “Sorry to disturb,” she added, and returned to the kitchen.

  I looked toward the living room again.

  Why would Lucille take my mail? Who would write to me?

  After the talk we had just had, I didn’t think this was the time to ask about that letter addressed to me and accuse her. I started up the stairway, telling myself I would find out why, if she had taken it by mistake, she hadn’t yet given it to me.

  Little did I know how quickly that would be and what an impact it would have on the future Lucille so wanted to design for me.

  The Letter

  I INTENDED TO confront Lucille about my letter the following day, but she was gone before I went to breakfast, and then she and Daddy went to dinner with some people after work. When they came home late that evening, they were together laughing and enjoying a nightcap in the den. I didn’t want to bring it up in front of my father, anyway. However, the following morning, I deliberately rose earlier and waited for Lucille to come out of the bedroom. I saw my father leave first, and then, when she emerged, I pretended to be walking out and down to breakfast at the same time.

  “Good morning, Semantha.” She waited at the top of the stairway.

  “Good morning.”

  “What are your plans for today? I’m going to Lexington to meet the governor’s wife for lunch,” she said before I could reply. “I’d take you along, but it’s not proper to surprise her with a guest.”

  “That’s all right. I’m going to do some reading, relax at the pool. Uncle Perry is sending some design proposals over for me to look at. They’re for girls my age. I used to give him input all the time.”

  “How nice. I took a brief look at that sector of the business. He could use something to boost sales.”

  We started down the stairway.

  “He wanted me to come to his office today, but I asked if he could just send them over.”

  “Good. I like you here to babysit the house,” she said, smiling. “You know that old expression: When the cat’s away, the mice will play. What are you reading these days? My father was so critical of whatever I read. I had to be sure it had some intrinsic value and wasn’t simply entertainment.”

  “The Magic Slipper.”

  “I don’t know it.”

  “It’s a modern-day version of Cinderella, which even your father might think has intrinsic value, as you say.”

  She laughed. “I doubt it. I had to bribe my mother to get permission to see Beauty and the Beast. ”

  “How sad. Speaking of reading, however,” I said as we reached the bottom of the stairway, “I was wondering if you might have picked up some mail for me accidentally.”

  “Mail?” She paused. “When?”

  “Yesterday, maybe?”

  “Oh. You know, maybe I did. I just scooped up the pile and brought it to your father’s office. I haven’t gone through half of it,” she said. “Are you expecting mail?”

  I shrugged.

  “Well, why would you think I accidentally picked up something addressed to you?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I just wondered,” I said. “Some of the girls mentioned they’d keep in touch.”

  I knew Mrs. Dobson had told me she wasn’t afraid of my mentioning her seeing the envelope addressed to me, but unless I had to do it, I saw no reason to get her on Lucille’s bad side.

  “Oh, I see. Well, you’re quite welcome to go to the office and look through the pile yourself,” Lucille said coolly. “I’m just grabbing a little breakfast and then leaving. I’ve been on such a merry-go-round with the wedding preparations, business issues, and social events, I haven’t had a moment to think about the mail. I do hope there’s something nice there for you,” she added, and walked on to the dining room.

  Either she was a great actress or she really had accidentally taken a letter addressed to me, I thought as I walked to the office. Cassie was already there, standing behind Daddy’s desk.

  “Accidentally? Or she’s a great actress? Take a wild guess which it is,” she said.

  I ignored her and went to the mail stacked on the desk. I was only halfway into it before I found the letter. It was from Ethan.

  “She read it,” Cassie said. “She steamed it open and read it.”

  I turned the envelope over and looked at it carefully. The edge of the seal was slightly torn and when I brought it into more light, it did look as if some glue had been reapplied. But unless I had a forensics expert check the fingerprints on the letter inside, I really couldn’t be sure. I opened it, took out the letter, and sat behind the desk to read it. I saw from the date that it was nearly a week old.

  Dear Semantha,

  I was sorry to have missed your graduation. The fact is, I even missed my own. I was called home because my father had a heart attack. It was touch and go for the first few days, and then the doctors decided to operate and do a triple bypass. It went well, but I remained here during his first weeks of recuperation. Naturally, I put my own life on hold. He’s doing well now.

  I hope your graduation went well and your family enjoyed being there. I know how hard it was for you the last few days at Collier, and I wish I could have been there for you.

  Perhaps we’ll see each other again in the near future. Despite the craziness toward the end, I really did enjoy our time together. Let me know how you are doing.

  Love, Ethan

  He’d added his e-mail address at the bottom. I folded the letter and put it back into the envelope. How unexpected this was. When Ethan hadn’t shown up or called the day of my graduation, I had assumed that after all he had learned about my past and all of the commotion because of Ellie, he wanted no more to do with me. I had all but written him out of my life, fighting back any nice memories that tried to rise to the surface like bubbles in a pond. Even Lucille’s questions didn’t raise any new hope in me. I waited to hear Cassie say something sarcastic or nasty about Ethan’s letter, but she was silent.

  “Anything there for you?” Lucille asked when I entered the dining room. She was looking at the newspaper’s society page and sipping her coffee, sitting, I noted, in Daddy’s seat.

  “Yes.” I put the envelope in front of me on the table.

  “Oh. I do apologize. I’ve been rushing about these days and simply missed it.”

  Mrs. Dobson came in to bring me my juice and a bowl of my favorite cereal and fruit. Lucille waited for her to leave.

  “Well,” she said, nodding at the envelope, “did it bring you some good news at least?”

  “Sort of. It was from Ethan Hunter.”

  “The young man you were seeing?”

  “Yes. He explained why he didn’t attend my graduation. His father had a heart attack, and he had to go home to be with his mother.”

  “Did his father live?”

  “Yes, but he had to have a triple bypass.”

  “Well, then, that is good news,” she said, smiling. “I remember I told you to reserve your judgment about him. We’re all so impulsive when we’re young. We haven’t the patience to let things jell a bit. It’s nice that he wrote you. Is he going to call you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, starting my breakfast. “He wants me to write to him first, I thi
nk. He added his e-mail address.”

  “I won’t tell you what to do, but he sounds very thoughtful and not like the sort who would waste his time,” she said. She snapped the paper and finished reading, occasionally announcing the names she read and explaining how she knew them. There didn’t seem to be a charity or entertainment affair to which she had not gone in her life. After she had her breakfast, she told me she had a number of things to do before meeting the governor’s wife. She also said that she and my father would have dinner out again tonight.

  “I do hate to see you all by yourself so much, Semantha,” she said as she rose to leave.

  “It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not. I know what you’ve been through, and I worry you’re going to ruin all the progress you’ve made with your therapist. I promise I will try to devote more time to you as soon as I can. Perhaps you should send Ethan a quick note to let him know you don’t hold a grudge or anything,” she added, flashed a smile, and walked out.

  She’s so confusing, I thought. Sometimes she gave me the feeling she was totally into herself and would eventually hurt the family, or what was left of it; and then sometimes, like now, she seemed really concerned about my welfare. Could she really be like an older sister to me, a tried-and-true, trusted friend? Should I give her the chance?

  Across the table, sitting in her seat, Cassie simply stared at me and shook her head as if I were a lost cause. She had done that more times than I had strands of hair on my head. Mrs. Dobson came in to clear off Lucille’s dishes.

  “She did pick up a letter that was for me,” I told her, and showed her the envelope. “I didn’t mention that you had seen her do it. She said she had scooped up a pile of mail and told me she hadn’t yet gone through it all.”

  She paused. “And?”

  “I went through it and found my letter. She said she did it accidentally.”

  Mrs. Dobson continued to clean up, but then paused, looked at the doorway, and then looked at me. “I’ve known many fine people in my time, Miss Semantha, people of high quality, some quite decent, some quite the opposite. Money and prestige don’t guarantee anything. That woman,” she added, nodding at the doorway, “never does anything accidentally.”

  She went into the kitchen.

  Across the table, Cassie broke into a wide smile.

  “Think what you like,” I told her, “but if there’s anyone who knows what it’s like for people to think badly of you without real proof, it’s yours truly.”

  She mocked me with a face of exaggerated sorrow and pity. I left quickly.

  That afternoon, before I did anything else, I went on my computer and wrote a quick note to Ethan, just as Lucille had suggested. I thanked him for his letter, wished his father well, and clearly indicated that I would love to hear from him whenever he had a chance to e-mail back. I described my graduation ceremony and told him a little about my father and Lucille and the plans being made for a grand wedding. I also told him about my father’s new honor, but I didn’t tell him anything about Lucille’s political ambitions for him.

  Afterward, I changed into my bathing suit, scooped up the novel I wanted to start, and headed for the pool. Downstairs, I found that Uncle Perry’s designs had been delivered. I took them with me and sat on a chaise.

  We had a nearly Olympic-size light-blue Pebble Tec pool, deep enough at the far end for a diving board. There was a cabana with bathrooms and five changing rooms with showers. Daddy had installed a large-screen television under the roof of the shady patio, where we had a beautiful blue and white ceramic bar behind which was a full kitchen. To the right of that was a built-in barbecue. Spaced around the pool were a dozen tables with umbrellas, and to the sides was some more outdoor furniture with tables.

  I sat back and thought about the grand pool parties with live music that Mother and Daddy had had years ago. I was permitted to stay until ten o’clock, but afterward, I would keep my bedroom windows open so I could hear the music and laughter flowing through the night. Nothing like that had happened around this pool since Mother’s death. I imagined Lucille would plan some parties after she and Daddy were married, but no matter what she did or how elaborate those parties would be, they just couldn’t be the same for me.

  I began studying Uncle Perry’s new ideas for teen fashions in the Heaven-stone line. Some of the drawings reminded me of outfits the girls wore at Collier. At the end, he had a list of possible magazines in which he wanted to place advertisements. He wanted me to check those I thought would be most effective. I didn’t read any of them, but I had seen a number of them at the dorm. He added a little note, once again telling me how much he hoped I would come to work in his department.

  I was thinking that I would do just that when I heard the phone ringing. I saw it was my private line. I assumed it was Daddy calling and quickly answered.

  “Hey, thanks for the e-mail,” I heard Ethan say. “Sounds like a lot going on at the Heaven-stone estate. How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” I said. My mind was reeling. How had he gotten my phone number? I didn’t recall putting it into the e-mail or ever giving it to him when we were seeing each other in Albany. I didn’t want to sound annoyed about it, so I didn’t ask. “How’s your father?”

  “Oh, he’s doing really well since the bypass. Finally, we got him to stop smoking. We’re all our own worst enemies when you get right down to it. So, what have you been up to? Planning on college or what?”

  “I might go to work for my uncle Perry. He’s in charge of a number of things, including teen fashions under our trademark.”

  “Sounds very interesting. I always had a feeling you’d get involved in your father’s empire one way or another. Can’t blame you for that.”

  “What about you?”

  “Oh, as I told you, I’m taking my time, looking at my options,” he said. “With all that happened, I feel like I need a bit of a breather before looking at possible employment.”

  “I’m sure you need to catch your breath. Sometimes it all seems to happen so fast.”

  “Absolutely. Which is really why I was so happy to hear from you.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was thinking of taking a drive out there. I’ve never been to Kentucky. Maybe I could spend a few days nearby and see you. What do you think?”

  My heart began racing with the possibilities. After what Cassie had done and the birth of my daughter, I thought the chance of my ever having a relationship was slight to none. Ethan’s initial reaction to my revelations had convinced me that was true, and when he hadn’t shown up or called for my graduation, that belief had been solidly confirmed, which was probably why I was so reluctant to get back into any social scene, no matter how much Lucille prodded.

  Now I wondered, could I be wrong? Could I get past Dr. Ryan’s comment that I might become “somewhat” normal? Was there a chance for me to have a life full of happiness, too? If Daddy, after all of this family tragedy, could resurrect his optimism and hope, why couldn’t I?

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ethan. In fact, I think you should stay here. We have plenty of room.”

  “Are you sure? Would your father approve?”

  “I’m sure he will,” I said. “But if you like, I’ll ask him as soon as I can and call you.”

  “That’s great, Semantha. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “And I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

  “Okay, I’ll wait for your call,” he said. “ ’Bye.”

  “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “You forgot to give me your telephone number.”

  He laughed. “I guess you got me so excited I can’t think straight,” he said, and gave me the number.

  When I hung up, I realized how Lucille’s accidentally burying my letter in her pile might have led Ethan to believe I wanted nothing to do with him. I had Mrs. Dobson to thank, but I was too excited to dwell on being angry or annoyed. I quickly tried to reach my fat
her at work. He was in a meeting, so I had to wait almost an hour, but he finally called, obviously worried that something was wrong. When I told him what I wanted, he laughed.

  “Sure, he’s welcome,” he said. “I can’t wait to tell Lucille. She was more worried about you than I was. She’ll be happy to hear that you’re doing something social.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “See you later,” he said.

  As soon as he hung up, I called Ethan.

  “That’s great,” he said when I told him my father had said he was eager to meet him, too. “You know what? I think I’ll fly instead of drive and get there tomorrow by late afternoon. I’ll rent a car at the airport.”

  “You will?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll e-mail you my arrangements so you’ll know exactly when to expect me. I can’t wait to see you and meet your father.”

  As soon as I hung up, I went into a little nervous frenzy. There was so much to do to prepare for Ethan’s arrival. Which bedroom would he use? What sorts of things should we do? What could I show him? Wait until he sees my car, I thought. Of course, I would let him do the driving.

  So excited now that I thought I would burst, I gathered my things and hurried back to the house to talk to Mrs. Dobson. When she heard Ethan was coming and I described who he was, she was very excited for me.

  “He sounds very nice.” She thought a moment. “I’d say the guest bedroom down from yours would be the best one for him. It has the nicest view of the rear of the estate. Doris and I have to get in there, though. We haven’t worked on that one for a few weeks, not that there’s anything but some dust here and there, I’m sure. We’ll get right on it, Miss Semantha. And I suppose you would want to plan on a dinner, too.”

  “A dinner? Yes, a dinner. Can you make some Italian dish? Ethan loves Italian food.”

  “My employer who had a house in Mayfair in London used to rave about my lobster Alfredo. I got the recipe from the chef at his favorite Italian restaurant. He said I did a better job of it, and he wasn’t the sort who handed out compliments freely. That’s about all the boasting I’ll do,” she added.