away from her?”
“No. But keep an eye on her.”
Lexie looked out at the statue of Pomona, the goddess of abundance. “Easier said than done.”
Chapter 18
Secrets
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Chester Appledorn, unblinking and a little stiff, sat in the armchair in his alcove, positioned to face the window overlooking the family cemetery. He was wearing a new cardigan his daughter had brought back from Indianapolis. “You’re right, Mattie. He’s gaslighting you.”
Stretched out in the window seat, an open book beside her, Madeleine nodded. “That’s what I think, Daddy. Anthony pretends not to see the ship captain when he’s a few steps behind me in Babette’s gallery or sitting right beside him in the audience at the hotel. Pretends not to hear him too. Says I’m imagining things again.”
“He wants you to think you’re crazy.”
She laughed. “When I said Kimmie’s crazy, he said that’s a word he doesn’t use.”
“Psychiatrists are so pretentious.”
“Aren’t they just?”
“So what do you think the ship captain said?” Chester asked.
“I wish I knew. It was all static in my head, like a garbled foreign language.”
“You really fainted?”
“Very weak of me, I know. When I crumpled to the floor, I smacked my wrist on the lectern.” She pushed up the sleeve of her sweater and held out her wounded limb so he could see the faint bruise. “The very same wrist the ship captain grabbed at the art gallery.”
“You should be more careful of your hands, Mattie. They’re your most important asset.”
“I know.”
“The doctor isn’t the right man for you. Why did you ever divorce Steve Wright? He was the best of the three.”
“Oh, Daddy, I didn’t divorce him. I’d never admit that to anyone else, but you know he left me.”
“He didn’t even leave you for another woman. He just up and left. You ever think about that?”
“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “But why are you pretending to like Steve now? You hated him when I was married to him.”
“No man is good enough for you. But now I see things differently. It’s not sensible to let a good man get away.”
“I tried to get him back. . . . Daddy, can I tell you a secret about Dr. Beltrami?”
“I don’t like secrets. If you tell me a secret about him, then three people will know: you, the doctor, and me. There’s only one way three people can keep a secret.”
“How?” Madeleine asked.
“If two are dead.”
“Oh, Daddy,” she said laughing despite herself, “that’s macabre.”
He waited for his daughter to continue. Finally, she obliged. “If you hate secrets, then you’ll hate this one. Anthony had sex with me when I was thirteen.”
“No!”
“Yes. In the office. He said it would make me a woman.”
“Pervert.”
“And he gave me cocaine to lift my spirits.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that when it happened?”
“I was afraid of what you’d do to him.”
“Damn right. He’d have had to disappear.”
“I know he would have. You’re not a big man, but when I was little I thought you were the strongest man in the world, a regular superhero. I remember seeing you sling hundred-pound bags of feed around like they were pillows and pull heavy, slippery calves out of their laboring mothers. So I didn’t tell you about the therapy because I knew you wouldn’t approve. I was afraid you’d kill Anthony with your bare hands. In fact, I told him that a few days ago.”
“Why aren’t you afraid of what I’ll do now that you’ve told me your secret?”
“Oh, Daddy, you’re not as strong as you once were.” She grasped one of his hands, noticing how it was smattered with old-age freckles and the thumb canted off to the palm, the break never having healed properly. “You’ve had a stroke, you know. More than one. Even getting you downstairs to sit in the barn while I paint or go for an evening drive in the pickup is almost more than either of us can manage.”
“I killed in the
“No. But keep an eye on her.”
Lexie looked out at the statue of Pomona, the goddess of abundance. “Easier said than done.”
Chapter 18
Secrets
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Chester Appledorn, unblinking and a little stiff, sat in the armchair in his alcove, positioned to face the window overlooking the family cemetery. He was wearing a new cardigan his daughter had brought back from Indianapolis. “You’re right, Mattie. He’s gaslighting you.”
Stretched out in the window seat, an open book beside her, Madeleine nodded. “That’s what I think, Daddy. Anthony pretends not to see the ship captain when he’s a few steps behind me in Babette’s gallery or sitting right beside him in the audience at the hotel. Pretends not to hear him too. Says I’m imagining things again.”
“He wants you to think you’re crazy.”
She laughed. “When I said Kimmie’s crazy, he said that’s a word he doesn’t use.”
“Psychiatrists are so pretentious.”
“Aren’t they just?”
“So what do you think the ship captain said?” Chester asked.
“I wish I knew. It was all static in my head, like a garbled foreign language.”
“You really fainted?”
“Very weak of me, I know. When I crumpled to the floor, I smacked my wrist on the lectern.” She pushed up the sleeve of her sweater and held out her wounded limb so he could see the faint bruise. “The very same wrist the ship captain grabbed at the art gallery.”
“You should be more careful of your hands, Mattie. They’re your most important asset.”
“I know.”
“The doctor isn’t the right man for you. Why did you ever divorce Steve Wright? He was the best of the three.”
“Oh, Daddy, I didn’t divorce him. I’d never admit that to anyone else, but you know he left me.”
“He didn’t even leave you for another woman. He just up and left. You ever think about that?”
“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “But why are you pretending to like Steve now? You hated him when I was married to him.”
“No man is good enough for you. But now I see things differently. It’s not sensible to let a good man get away.”
“I tried to get him back. . . . Daddy, can I tell you a secret about Dr. Beltrami?”
“I don’t like secrets. If you tell me a secret about him, then three people will know: you, the doctor, and me. There’s only one way three people can keep a secret.”
“How?” Madeleine asked.
“If two are dead.”
“Oh, Daddy,” she said laughing despite herself, “that’s macabre.”
He waited for his daughter to continue. Finally, she obliged. “If you hate secrets, then you’ll hate this one. Anthony had sex with me when I was thirteen.”
“No!”
“Yes. In the office. He said it would make me a woman.”
“Pervert.”
“And he gave me cocaine to lift my spirits.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that when it happened?”
“I was afraid of what you’d do to him.”
“Damn right. He’d have had to disappear.”
“I know he would have. You’re not a big man, but when I was little I thought you were the strongest man in the world, a regular superhero. I remember seeing you sling hundred-pound bags of feed around like they were pillows and pull heavy, slippery calves out of their laboring mothers. So I didn’t tell you about the therapy because I knew you wouldn’t approve. I was afraid you’d kill Anthony with your bare hands. In fact, I told him that a few days ago.”
“Why aren’t you afraid of what I’ll do now that you’ve told me your secret?”
“Oh, Daddy, you’re not as strong as you once were.” She grasped one of his hands, noticing how it was smattered with old-age freckles and the thumb canted off to the palm, the break never having healed properly. “You’ve had a stroke, you know. More than one. Even getting you downstairs to sit in the barn while I paint or go for an evening drive in the pickup is almost more than either of us can manage.”
“I killed in the
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