The Hidden Room Read online

  Arthur came home before lunch. He asked me into the living room and asked me to sit on the davenport. He got down on his knee and began to apologize for his behavior last night. He said that he got angry but that I am his true love and his life. He promised to never treat me in such a manner again. He kissed me softly. I held his head to my chest and felt so relieved. God had heard my prayers. He rubbed his hand to my stomach and murmured sweet things to the baby. He asked if the baby was alright. I informed him of the bleeding.

  He immediately pulled me out to the carriage house. He had me sit on the bench, while he got the horse ready. He took me directly to the doctor. I was examined and analyzed. The doctor heard a strong heartbeat. I was so very relieved that the baby was alright and that Arthur had this change of behavior. He held me and kissed my neck, seemingly as relieved as I.

  We returned to the house, and he went down into his room to work. I let Emma know that the baby was alright and had a strong heartbeat. She smiled as a tear fell from her cheek. I think I can still feel its wetness on my thumb. If she was surprised to hear about Arthur’s change of heart, she didn’t show it. As I told Emma that I love her, Mrs. Hartley came into the room to announce that dinner was ready. I didn’t move away from Emma. Mrs. Hartley turned and left the room as quickly as she came. I slowly removed my hand from Emma’s face and went to find Arthur.

  March 30, 1919

  I woke up this morning and Arthur was not next to me. I was surprised to find a box on the bed, silver with a bright red ribbon. Upon inspection, I saw my name written on a small piece of paper beneath the bow. I untied the ribbon carefully and lifted the lid. Inside was a smaller box covered in black velvet. I opened the little box to reveal a silver, oval pendant attached to a long chain. I turned the cool charm over in my hand and noticed that it was a locket. Inside, was a photo of Father on one side and Arthur on the other.

  He remembered my birthday. The unspeakable event that was my punishment has not recurred. In fact, Arthur has been quite the gentleman. He is insisting that while he is home he wants to read to the baby. We sit in the front room, and he reads a book. He said that he wants the baby to know his voice. Everything is starting to feel as though I could, perhaps, be happy here.

  When Arthur goes into town for several hours a day, I spend time with Emma. She doesn’t like that I am getting along so well with Arthur. What else does she think I should do? I don’t want to have him angry with me again. She nods and tells me that she understands. We sit in our secret spot, and she touches me and kisses me. She talks to the baby as well, and I feel as though I am living two separate lives.

  I have my life with my husband. We sit in the parlor and discuss different things. He takes me on walks. We never climb the hill or go near the tree. Arthur doesn’t like to walk up hills. I am secretly grateful to keep that place away from him. We walk around the pond, and he tells me of all of the business he is attending to in town, the commissions he is working to acquire. He talks of the buildings he has built and the ones that he wants to build. We talk about being parents and living our lives together until we are old. It is in those moments that I believe him. I feel almost happy to be with him and feel almost lucky to be loved by him.

  I have my life with Emma. Stolen moments and glances to one another. Sometimes her eyes burn into my soul. I crave her lips on me in those moments. We go to our spot whenever we can steal time to ourselves. It isn’t very often. If Arthur is away, her mother is asking her to help with preparation of dinner. I go about my daily household chores and help with the garden. We don’t talk about being in love or what will happen when the baby arrives. She supports me when I need it, and I give her what I can. She is anxious about when Arthur is to leave and stay in Portland. I am not so sure I want him to go. How can I tell her that my affections are growing for him? Is it possible to love two people at the same time?

  Arthur had a gentleman from town come to the house for some business. I overheard them discussing the homecoming of soldiers from overseas. Many of them are in need of work. How strange that all these months later, the end of the war seems unreal. Men are coming home in pieces. I find myself so grateful that Arthur did not have to endure such an endeavor.

  May 27, 1919

  I have not had an opportunity to write at all. Arthur has finally left to work on the commission back in Portland. He is to be gone for a few weeks. I am so very grateful for the break. He is not that man that I thought he was. He started out to be so kind and generous, but now he is very angry. I find it impossible to know what will set him off. The bruises are easier to hide, but last week he threw me across the room. I put out my arms to break the fall and protect the baby. My wrist broke on impact. I am currently unable to use my arm. The doctor asked me, many times, exactly how I fell.

  Emma has been getting restless. We have not been together since Arthur came home. She is quite terrified, having witnessed his anger on more than one occurrence. She has a hard time watching. Her mother is also growing very concerned. Never permitted to leave his side, I feel scared all the time. I have been looking forward to him leaving.

  Emma and I spent the entire day together. After dinner, her mother retired to her room. We retired to mine. Emma worshipped my entire body. She treated me tenderly, kissing each scrape and bruise. Just when I think my heart will burst with love for her, she surprises me, and my love grows even more. We made love until we were too tired to stay awake and talk. It was almost like our first time.

  Emma is sleeping in my bed right now. I wanted to write this out. Get it out. My wrist is aching. I am going to sleep in her arms tonight and awake in the morning with her. Happiness will settle back into my life.

  I wonder what being a parent will be like. Caring for a little one is such a great responsibility. I wish I knew what I was having. Emma thinks we are to have a little girl with blonde curls like my own. I have a feeling it will be a little boy. I wish he would look like her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Poor Clara. Reese walked over to her desk and exchanged the completed journal for the next in turn. She carefully placed the tattered, leather-bound book on her nightstand. She traced her finger across the edge of the binding as Julia walked in, fresh from her shower, and got into her side of the bed. “Are you moving on to the next one?” Ollie jumped up on the bed and snuggled near Reese’s feet. She thought about how good he’d been since they arrived. He was spending most of his days asleep in the sunlight near the front bay window, waiting for Zachary to come home, then Ollie would become his furry shadow.

  “No, I’ve read enough for tonight. I’m really concerned about poor Clara. Her husband was not a good man. He was beating and raping her.”

  “That’s terrible. It was a different world back then. She wouldn’t have had many options.” Julia concluded.

  “That is what makes this so emotional for me. She was trapped. As I read, I find myself rooting for her to get out of this situation. Then I realize that this happened so long ago. What about that stain we found under the living room carpet? I fear Arthur may have killed her.”

  Whenever Julia looked at her that way, Reese felt like she was being analyzed.

  “It happened so long ago. Even if he did kill her, what would we do?” Julia asked. Reese snuggled under the covers, her head resting on Julia’s chest. Snubbed by the movement, Ollie found an open spot at the foot of the bed.

  “I don’t think we could really do anything. I suppose I’ve gotten lost in the story. Clara is a kindred spirit.”

  “It’s alright.”

  Reese immediately pushed herself up on her elbow, ready to give her a kiss goodnight. Julia rolled over.

  “Are you trying to get out of kissing me?”

  Julia laughed. “Absolutely not.” Reese leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Julia had started to roll back over, when there was a knock on the door. Reese pulled back. They both sat up in the bed. Reese scooted over to her own side and straightened her hair and clothes.


  “Mom?” The voice was small and sheepish on the other side.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yes.” The door slowly opened and Zachary was standing there.

  “Hey, little man. What’s going on?”

  “Can I sleep in here with you?”

  Reese lifted the comforter. Zachary padded across the room and climbed in, settling himself between Reese and Julia. The small dog plodded over and licked Zachary’s nose. “I had a bad dream.” He pointed at Julia, “Don’t tell anyone I did this.”

  Julia chuckled. The puppy laid down between them. “Who would we tell?” Julia slid back down and got comfortable. Reese did the same and turned out the light.

  “Are you alright, sweetheart? Do you want to talk about your dream?”

  Zachary was quiet in the darkness for a few moments. “I was dreaming that our old house was on fire. Then a spaceship came down and was trying to get me, and I was running and ended up in a grocery store or something. I just…I wanted to be with you both tonight.”

  “Well, there are no fires. No one is trying to get us,” Reese said quietly, as she held her son. “I love you, Zachary, more than anything in the world. I’m sorry you had a bad dream. I’m here, my sweet boy.”

  “Mom, I love you too… Jules?”

  “Yeah, bud?”

  “I love you too.”

  “I love you bunches, little man. Get some sleep.” Soon, Julia and Zachary drifted off. Reese lay in bed, thinking about what she was going to do about Aiden. She was struggling with everything that she was feeling. Her mind wandered back to a time when Zachary was about five years old.

  †

  The desk phone rang. “Reese Iverson,” she said before her face burst into a smile. “Hello there, husband.” Aiden managed to make her laugh. In moments like this, she almost felt as if she loved him. He missed her and had lined up a babysitter for the evening. He was taking her out on a date. Just the two of them. Intrigued and excited, Reese accepted.

  Later, at the restaurant, she walked through the doors and was led to the table, where Aiden was already sitting. There were two glasses of wine on the table. She smiled at him and sat in the chair. Her eyes grazed over her glass and her eyebrows raised in question.

  “Ah, I know that you don’t care for the merlot here. Too sweet for your taste. I ordered you the 2006 Caymus Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon. I know that you like the smooth, cherry taste with that hint of dark chocolate.“ She nodded at him and swirled her glass slightly. “I didn’t let them pour until you texted that you were in the parking lot.” She smirked and put the glass to her lips. She closed her eyes, as she enjoyed the feeling of the wine on her tongue.

  “You know, we should really take another wine country trip this summer. I’m sure that Zachary is old enough now to enjoy some of what California has to offer.” Aiden seemed pleased with his own suggestion

  “His T-ball schedule ends in May. So, we could plan for early June?” She looked at him hopefully.

  “That sounds wonderful,” he said. He grabbed his own glass and took a sip. “We haven’t been on a family trip since that awful Christmas with your parents in Rome.”

  She laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. You can’t expect a two-year-old to sit still on a plane for that long without some sort of whining. He did a great job sleeping through a lot of it.”

  “It wasn’t just the plane ride. It was constantly watching him run around and almost breaking your father’s collection of antique clay work. He wouldn’t leave it alone. We brought his favorite toys, and he wanted to play with artifacts worth more than his life. Your mother wanted to banish us. I could tell that she was furious.”

  There it was. The enjoyable evening slipped away. She felt disrespected and needed to defend her son. He looked at her as if asking for her sympathy.

  “He was two, Aiden. My mother wasn’t upset about it. Those may have been my father’s possessions, but they aren’t him. I wish he were still here. He loved Zachary so much and would never have been angry at him for wanting to play. Mother was quite content to chase him around. You just don’t know how to relax. You were working the entire trip, and you were angry at our family for interrupting your job.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault that the Rogers project was in trouble. The contractor was giving us notice of delay, and the bank was threatening to take their money back. You know that. I wasn’t angry at you or Zachary. But your mother makes a better client than an in-law for sure. She treated me like I was an asshole the entire trip. I’m the one who married you. She should be more grateful.”

  “Grateful? You expect her to be grateful for doing what? Taking pity on me and marrying me? Is there anything else you’d like to criticize me about this evening? Allow me to give you a rundown of your list so far: our son is a bother; my mother is terrible toward you; and I’m lucky to have landed a man. Thanks for the ‘date’.” She stood and walked out of the restaurant. She heard him calling her name but paid no attention. It was another reminder that they couldn’t sit and enjoy a single meal together without someone getting upset.

  The little things always built up over time and ruined her relationships. Small comments that hurt her feelings went unmentioned. She’d manage her feelings and make a small note in her mind that it happened. Once she collected enough of those filed notes, she felt all those past little hurts all over again, even if what was said was not really hurtful. That had happened with her ex-girlfriend, Ava.

  She missed Ava occasionally. She knew that the relationship had ended because she never told her when she felt hurt or upset. Perhaps, she should go back in and talk to Aiden, tell him that what he said hurt her.

  She got into her car as the tears began to fall. Why was this such hard work? Why did it always seem like she was paddling up stream? Were all marriages like this? She didn’t want to go back inside to talk with him about anything. Talking wasn’t going to change anything; it would just upset her more. She wiped away her tears and started the car. She would always have Zachary. She would go home to her little man. Maybe if she hurried, he’d still be awake. She put the car in reverse to pull out of the parking space and headed home.

  †

  That “date” had been one of many attempts to put an effort into her marriage, only to have it thrown back in her face. She hated when, in therapy, Aiden always said that she was so cold and wouldn’t try to save their marriage. He often said that he could feel her anger or pain and would ask her about it. She always told him that she was fine. She was always fine. Perhaps, she got frustrated with him in therapy because he was right. She had stopped wanting to talk to him at all. She looked for things he said that were hurtful, even when she knew he didn’t mean it. She also knew that she’d never loved him. She never should have married him in the first place.

  She looked over at Julia’s sleeping form. With Julia, she saw a future. Aiden made her feel a prisoner of her past pains, regrets, and frustrations. She sighed and held Zachary a little tighter. After kissing the top of his head, she rolled over and attempted to not think about Julia kissing her or how safe it made her feel. Eventually, she allowed herself to slip into a dreamless sleep.

  †

  Aiden pulled his car alongside the long, dark building. He put the car in park and turned off the lights. He waited five minutes, as instructed, then flipped them back on and gave the signal. He looked for his sign. Soon enough, another car flashed the lights three times. That meant he was to get out of the car and walk to the door with the number 376 on it. He did as he was told. Before he reached the door, it swung open. A young man stood there with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “Whatcha here for?”

  Aiden straightened his tie. “I just wanted to get a better view of the water.” He smirked. The young man rolled his eyes and stepped aside. Aiden crossed the threshold and looked around an open warehouse. There was a modular partition in the back, with windows and a door. He looked back to the man. His eye
brows raised, Aiden nodded toward the door. “There?” he asked. The kid nodded. Aiden made his way over to the office. He looked through the window and didn’t see anyone in the room. He opened the door and sat in a chair. The room was dirty and musty. He figured that no one ever used this place for anything other than what he was doing there.

  After a few minutes the door swung open to admit an older man with grey, thinning hair. Aiden smiled and began to stand. The man held up his hand. “Don’t. Sit.”

  Aiden’s smile fell away immediately. He sat.

  “You’re putting me in an awkward position. You understand that?”

  “Niko,” Aiden’s smile returned. “I would never contact you unless it was completely necessary.”

  Nikolai Petrovich rolled his eyes. “You are the one who needed investors for this venture. That doesn’t mean that we work to your schedule.”

  “I know you don’t like me. I don’t really care. This is a business arrangement. All this cloak-and-dagger bullshit is wearing thin. It’s not necessary. I have an option on the land and the warehouse. I just need some cash for the upfront soft costs. I have a general contractor on board, ready to go, but he requires a retainer and I’ve got permits to pull. The bank needs one more letter from one of the retailers, whose legal team is holding everything up.”

  Petrovich crossed his arms and laughed. “You’re a bigger moron than I thought. You think that if I invest in this that you can come to me, insult me, and then tell me to cough up cash? I need to see the contracts and confirmation that the city is buying off on this plan of yours. Then, I’ll provide payment.”

  “The permits are ready. I’ll send that over in the morning. But my cash flow has dried up. I only have enough cash to pay for the option on the property and for the architect fees. I can’t pick up the permit without another eighty thousand. The retainer for the contractor is three quarters of a million.”