The Fall of Never(20)

Standing up and moving to the stove, Glenda was silent for a few moments before speaking. “I don’t like that man,” she said again. She took a spoon and began to lightly tap the eggs in the boiling water. “I don’t know where your father found him, but he thinks his word is gold and he’s been staying in this house for the past few months. He’s got a room on the third floor, keeps the door locked all the time, won’t even let me in to clean. Not that I mind. I prefer to steer clear of that one.”

Funny, Kelly thought, I don’t trust him, either. There’s just something about the man…

“Mr. Kellow doesn’t say much about him, either,” Glenda went on. “I asked him how they were introduced and your father just brushed the question. You know how he does when he doesn’t feel like answering any questions.”

“How is he?”

“Your father?” Glenda said. “He’s heartbroken over your sister, same as your mother. They both are. But they’re confused and angry too and I’ve hardly seen your father since the incident. He just sits in his study and reads, or goes for walks in the garden for hours on end. I suppose every person has their own way of dealing with things, and your father has every right to brood alone if he chooses, although I do worry about him.”

“I haven’t spoken with them since I left the hospital and moved to New Hampshire,” she said. “That was about six or so years ago. How did they even know where to find me?”

“Oh, honey, your father has his ways.” It was meant to sound lighthearted but instead, it made Kelly feel cold inside. Like her father was some sort of preternatural being, capable of keeping a mental lock on those he chose, no matter how far they strayed.

“He found me, even under a different name.” She muttered this more to herself than to Glenda. Then, for the woman’s sake, added, “I was married in New Hampshire.”

“You’re married?” Glenda turned away from the stove again, her face suddenly beautiful and radiant. For an instant, she appeared maybe twenty years younger. “Oh, Kelly, that’s wonderful! You must be so happy! I always knew you’d be such a success, honey. I’m so happy for you.”

“We’re not married anymore,” she quickly added, then thought, Oh hell, she didn’t need to know that. “It lasted only a few years. It was mutual.”

“Oh, dear…”

“Really, it’s okay. I’m happy now. It’s better this way. New era—these things happen. It’s more common than car wrecks nowadays.”

“Well, as long as you’re happy, I suppose that’s all that matters.” Glenda smiled at her and again the old woman’s motherly nature was clearly visible, as was that resurgence of youthfulness and beauty. In truth, Glenda Banczyk had been more of a mother to her than her own mother had been, and just as quickly as she thought that Kelly’s mind opened up to an image of carving Halloween pumpkins with Glenda so many years ago, the two of them sitting around the kitchen table (which they covered in newspapers), pulling the guts out of the giant orange vegetables. It was a good memory, and one that her brain hadn’t insisted she block out. Thinking of it now, it made her smile.

“I don’t remember much about this place, you know,” she said, not really expecting any sort of answer from Glenda. “In the time before I went away to the hospital, I don’t really remember anything about what happened—”

“Shhh,” Glenda said. Her face grew somber, perhaps a bit saddened. “Don’t think about those times. You’ve moved on.”

“Maybe…”

“Those were bad times for you, dear.”

“I can remember having…well, I guess what would amount to a nervous breakdown when I was fifteen…but I don’t remember the details of it, don’t remember exactly what happened.”

“You needed medical attention and your parents felt the hospital was the best thing for you at the time,” Glenda said. “They were worried about you, dear. You were becoming frazzled, too much anxiety. Your parents love you, Kelly. They only did what they thought was best.”

But Glenda misunderstood—this wasn’t about her parents’ reasons for putting her in the institution, this was about the events that had caused her to require institutionalization. Strange thing was, she couldn’t remember. But how could she expect Glenda the housekeeper to understand such things? How in the world would Glenda know what had been going on inside her head if she herself couldn’t properly recall any of it? It was unfair. She wanted answers to questions that were, essentially, unanswerable. She couldn’t expect Glenda to know anything about that any more than she could expect herself to suddenly figure it all out on her own.

Changing the subject, Glenda asked her how long she’d be staying.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’d like to see that Becky fully recovers.”

“I’m sure she’ll be all right,” said the woman. “I’ve been keeping her in my prayers.” Then, as an afterthought: “The both of you.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Kelly ate while Glenda scooped the hardboiled eggs from the pot and set them on the counter to cool. (It was a ritual of Gordon Kellow to have fresh hardboiled eggs for both breakfast and lunch every day. There were some things Kelly felt she’d never forget. Her father’s hardboiled eggs were one of them.)