Secrets in the Attic (Secrets 1)

"Your father is determined to spoil himself by spoiling you," my mother declared.

They kidded each other about it until we stopped for lunch. I did have a better appetite, which pleased them both. Just after we got the waitress to give us the check, my father looked at his watch and said, "We can get home early enough for us to go see Karen's mother first. I think that will be better than going there after dinner, don't you, Eileen?"

My mother glanced at me and nodded.

Moments later, we were off again, and I sat in the rear, looking out the window but seeing nothing. I hated the idea of going to Karen's house and seeing her mother like this, but now, after what I had,,done on the phone, I hated it even more. Was I capable of putting on the act Karen had told me to put on? Would I simply fall apart and confess everything right then and there? Was there still time for me to rescue myself? Was I terrible for thinking only of myself?

I couldn't help but also imagine Karen sitting up in the attic, gazing out the window, waiting anxiously for my return, and then waiting with frustration for the opportunity for us to communicate. All my emotions were twisting around inside me. My whole body felt as if it had been turned into a knot. I might not be able to get out of the car and walk to the Pearson front door. I might just faint or something the moment I stepped out.

"Don't worry, honey. Everything will be fine," my mother said.

She had been looking back at me periodically.

"Sure. This will go really fast," my father said. "We'll do what's right and go home. You'll feel better about it, Zipporah, believe me."

"I'm okay," I said, or thought I said. I wasn't sure if I just thought it.

As soon as we drove into Sandburg, I felt the blood drain from my face. I took a few deep breaths and then pressed my lips together as if I wanted to keep words from spilling out, just the way Karen often did. My father drove right up to the Pearson house and stopped. There was a police car in the driveway.

"Hey, something's happening," he said.

"Maybe we shouldn't go in, then, Michael," my mother said.

He nodded, thoughtful. My hopes rose. I might be able to avoid this now, after all

"Let me see," he said, disappointing me, and got out. My mother and I waited in the car while he went to the front door and rang the doorbell. Karen's mother opened it. They spoke for a few moments, and then he turned and beckoned to us to come.

"Ready?" my mother asked.

I didn't answer. I just opened the door. I felt as if I were floating down to the sidewalk to stand. My mother reached for my hand. I kept my head down as we walked to the Pearsons' front entrance. Karen's mother had gone back into the living room, where Chief Keiser and the two detectives who had questioned me were also sitting.

"Karen called her mother yesterday," my father told us. He looked at me. "The police were going to call you anyway, Zipporah, to ask you about it."

"Me? Why?" I asked, my heart thumping. My lungs felt as if they would explode.

"Just to see what you know about her travels," he said.

I released some air and shook my head. "I already told them what I knew."

"Tell them again. Let's go," my father said, stepping aside for my mother and me to enter.

This wasn't fair, I thought. I was supposed to meet only her mother. I wasn't supposed to meet her in front of the police. This was different. Karen and I didn't plan for this. I'll make a mistake. The tears I was supposed to force were now coming to my eyes willingly. There was no need even to think about putting on any act.

To me and, I was sure, my mother, Darlene Pearson looked even more beautiful in the role of a mourning wife. She had her hair pinned back, but she had a face attractive enough not to fear its being emphasized. Her eyes, although unadorned with eye shadow and eye liner, somehow looked larger, more stunning in their sadness. In fact, I thought she held herself elegantly, her lips firm, her chin without quiver, and her posture as correct as ever.

She wore a short-sleeved black blouse and a black skirt. The blouse was opened at her throat, and her thin gold necklace glittered in the late-afternoon sunshine streaming through the living-room windows. The blouse looked just a little tight around her full bosom. Two small diamonds in gold settings filled her pierced earlobes. She wore a pair of black flats with no stockings.

She turned to me and held out her hands. "Zipporah, dear," she said.

I took her hands, and she pulled me to her to hug me. I hugged back, but without any enthusiasm. She kissed me on the cheek and held me a moment longer.

"What you must be going through, too," she said, holding me at arm's length and looking into my eyes. I shifted my gaze to the floor quickly, and she let go of me. Instantly, I stepped back. "Please, everyone, sit," she told my parents.

Chief Keiser rose to give his seat to my mother. The two detectives were on the sofa. I saw that Karen's mother had given them all coffee. There was a small plate of cookies on the table as well.

"Michael, Eileen, would you like some coffee?" Darlene Pearson asked.

"No, thank you, Darlene. We're fine. We've just driven back from New York City."