Dovetail: A Novel(51)
“I can imagine that would be true.” She looked into his eyes and sighed. “Well, now my secret pales in comparison. You will think it childish, I’m afraid.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” he said, his eyes smiling.
She felt a flush of color come back to her face. “You’re just being kind.”
“Not at all, and now that you have my attention, you have to tell me.”
She regarded him for an instant, then beckoned with one crooked finger, leading him away from the clothesline and into a patch of trees fifteen feet away. “I have a secret place,” she said, “where I hide the things that are most valuable to me.”
He followed her into a thicket of old trees and watched as she went to one tree in particular, a tree with a hollow the size of a dinner platter. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up, stuck her hand inside the hollow, and pulled out a metal box. She produced a small key from her pocket and unlocked it, then lifted the lid.
“See?” she said, pulling out a piece of wrapped leather and unrolling it to show what was inside. “This is where I keep all my mementos. My mother’s engagement ring and wedding ring and two of her brooches, a seashell given to me by my favorite teacher, and a book of poems my aunt gave to me. Also, a porcelain frog I won at the fair one year.”
“I see.”
She closed the lid shut in sudden embarrassment. “I can tell by the look on your face that you think it’s foolishness.”
“No, not at all,” he said. “I’m just wondering why you feel the need to have it out here. Wouldn’t it be safer in the house?”
She laughed, a surprisingly happy lilt. “You clearly have no sisters, John. There is nothing private in my house. And Pearl would love to get her hands on my mother’s jewelry. She is of the impression that my father has them locked in his safe at the mill.”
“But he’s given them to you?”
“Yes. He knows I will treat her jewelry with great care. Pearl loses everything. She cherishes things for about a day and a half, and then she’s on to the next thing.” The words were dismissive, but her tone was affectionate. “That’s just how she is.”
John reached up into the hollow and placed his hand on the bottom, feeling nothing but a solid resting spot. “I’d think your treasures would get wet being outside all the time. Aren’t you worried about your things getting ruined?”
“Not at all. The box lid fits snugly, and everything inside is wrapped in leather. The hollow is deep, and I push the box as far back as I can. Nothing has ever gotten wet.” She grinned. “I found this hiding spot on my own. No one knows about it but me.”
“And now me,” he said.
“And I know you won’t tell,” she said, wrapping up her mementos and tucking them back into the box. “Because we have confided in each other.”
He held the box while she secured the lock. Looking into his eyes, she asked, “Would you mind returning it to its place?” He set it inside the hollow, pushing it as far back as possible.
“What if,” he asked thoughtfully, “you were to come to your secret hiding spot one day and find a letter from an admirer? Would it please you to come across such a letter?”
“It would depend on the letter, and also on the admirer,” she said, “but I believe finding a letter like that would be a most welcome surprise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
1916
Pearl had gone upstairs on the pretense of doing some dusting and mopping, and she did start to do just that, at least at first, but household chores were so tedious and never-ending that she paused to leaf through a magazine, which made her lethargic, and the next thing she knew, she’d stretched out on her bed for a very short nap.
When she woke up, some time had passed, and she felt refreshed, despite the heat of the day. She stretched like a cat and then got to her feet, smoothing out the bedspread to hide the evidence of her indolence. She went to the dresser and picked up a hand mirror, fixed her hair, and rubbed the creases out of her face. Considering she’d just gotten up, her appearance wasn’t too bad. It was hard to know how long she’d dozed. None of her sisters had come looking for her, which was a good sign.
Going to the window, Pearl held back the curtains that had been closed to block the midday sun. From this height, she could see the yard, the hanging laundry swaying in the breeze, the barn and the lake off in the distance. Their dog, Shep, was taking a leisurely trot around the chicken coop, pretending to be a guard dog. The sun glinted off the lake, waterfowl bobbing and dipping on the surface. It was the same view she’d seen her entire life, and she was so tired of it. Someday she’d be living in the thick of a big city, where every day she’d come across someone new instead of having to look at the same old faces she’d known ever since she was a child.
She was just about to drop the curtain when she spotted Alice and John stepping out from a cluster of trees just beyond the hanging laundry. John still wore his tweed cap, but he’d taken off his jacket. He was wearing his work clothes: button-down shirt and suspenders, along with his patched trousers and boots. Alice, clad in a gray dress, still wore the apron she used to hold the clothespins when she hung the wash. Normally, this combination made Pearl think of the word dowdy, but today Alice looked uncharacteristically attractive: her step was carefree, and the sun made her hair gleam. John and Alice weren’t touching, but there was no mistaking there was something between them. Alice’s face radiated pure joy, and John had a sly look, as if he had a secret. Their hands hung at their sides as they walked, but Pearl suspected those hands had been clasped together at some point. She watched as John leaned over and said something to make her sister laugh. Pearl had seen enough motion pictures to know when a couple looked completely head over heels in love, and she recognized it now, right in front of her.