Nolan Trilogy (31 page)

She pulled back, looking at him, brow knitted.  “My mother’s dress?  That wasn’t hers.  That was—”

“It was Patty’s,” he assured her.  “I remember it well.” 

“No, it—”

Rob kissed her into silence, making her knees weak and her insides tense with excitement.  How could this man have such an effect on her?  She still didn’t understand it.

“I’ve got to go.  Save my spot up there.”  He grinned, nodding toward the loft.

“Okay.”  She sighed and accepted one more quick kiss goodbye before he headed off, through the living room and down the hall.  She leaned thoughtfully against the ladder, looking at his desk, remembering the first night she’d sat on it while he bandaged her knee.  The night he’d watched her feverish dance, and later, she’d discovered something deeper hidden in the room under Mr. Nolan’s bed.

Had she known she was in love with him, or did it happen right then, when he touched her knee and she met his eyes, still breathless with the mystery she’d uncovered just a few feet away?  Every moment they’d spent since was stored in her memory, etchings on glass she traced her fingers over and over in the darkness of her mind, like a blind woman reading Braille. 

The secret they’d found in that room had changed the course of her entire life. 

Never in a million years could she have imagined the man she’d known as “Mr. Nolan” her whole life would be the one she’d fall in love with and marry and live with in her happily ever after.  Had it been that moment, the Band-Aid moment?  Or had it been later, the first time they’d made love, or maybe the morning they’d woken up to the sound of angels—which had turned out just to be the New Bethel Baptist Church choir, after all. 

Leah smiled, remembering the look on his face when she’d walked down the hall in that dress, the one they’d found in Erica’s mother’s things.  How bewitched he’d been.  Something had been familiar about that dress to her, even then.  Had that been the moment that cinched it for him? 

Frowning, she moved around the ladder, under the loft, opening the center desk drawer.  There were a million keys.  How in the world had Erica found the one that opened the door?  Had she tried every single one? 

Leah took out the key, the one on the leather fob, pulling aside the tapestry and unlocking the padlock.  She pulled the bolt, opening the darkroom, breathing in the thick smell of chemicals, the familiar scent of freshly developed photographs.  The fluorescents flickered overhead and she glanced up at the pictures on the line above the table.  They had changed since the last time she was in here.  How long had it been?  Months? 

Stepping forward, she studied each photograph in the light, black and white beauties every one, in various states of undress with coy smiles in coquettish poses.  She stared with wide eyes when she got to the last one on the line, recognizing it immediately.  This had been the roll of film in the camera on the desk that day.

It was the picture he had taken of her sitting on the desk, the quick snapshot to check the camera was still in working order, and it was a perfection of light and shadow, a lovely composition all the same—Leah laughing, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

And yes, it was there.  Already, it was there.  She could see the expression on her face, the light that came from the inside whenever she looked at him.  She’d been in love with him all along.  It was clear enough in the photograph. 

But had he been in love with her? 

She didn’t know why she’d asked him that question, where it had come from, bubbling up to the surface from depths unknown. 

When you came down the hall, wearing your mother’s dress…

That dress.  Why that dress? 

Leah went around the developing table and opened the door, the one with the hidden latch, turning on the little lamp on the table as she stepped inside.  The cabinet was open, the metal boxes inside lined up, each of them containing reels of film.  Kneeling down, she looked through them for the one she’d found by accident, finding it near the back, like she had before.

Inside, she found family pictures and slides.  There was Erica, blonde, blue-eyed little girl perfection, standing on a beach in a pink bikini and mugging for the camera.  Leah flipped through, smiling as her fingers sifted through holidays, birthdays, and trips up north, looking for the one she vaguely remembered seeing. 

They were in no particular order, and Erica changed in age from newborn to teenager and back to toddler.  Mr. Nolan grew a beard, a mustache, sideburns, gained a few pounds and lost them.  There were a few photos of Erica’s mother when she was sick, her face so gaunt it made Leah sad to look at them. 

There it was.  The dress had been familiar because she’d seen it before.  Her memory had assured her it was Erica’s mother, the pretty blonde woman, who had been wearing it, sitting on a porch and holding a small dog in her lap, and she was right.  Susan Nolan was much younger in the photograph, sitting with a beer in her hand and, behind her, in shadow, was Leah’s mom, head thrown back, laughing. 

She’d been right, and this proved it—it wasn’t her mother’s dress she’d been wearing. 

So why did Rob remember differently? 

For some reason, the fact bothered her and she didn’t know why.

Because he’s hiding something.

This photograph was nothing, lumped in with a bunch of innocuous family photos.  So why were they in here, hidden away with things far more illicit? 

Of course he was hiding something. 

That was obvious, with the locks, the secret doors, the contraband photographs.  He’d said he would explain it to her some day, but Leah knew she was going to have to demand answers before long, because now that he was hers, she couldn’t reconcile the man she loved standing behind a camera and taking photographs like the ones pinned to the clothes line, and the look on his face when she’d asked him about it told her he knew that. 

She was about to close up the box when she noticed an envelope stuck all the way at the bottom.  It was sealed, and she frowned, hesitating, but then she shrugged and opened it, expecting to find baby teeth or locks of hair.  It was more photographs. 

Mother? 

Patty Wendy was much younger in the picture, and she was wearing the dress, the same dress Leah had worn to
The Bronze Door
that night, the one he had pulled up when he bent Leah over in the bathroom and fucked her. 

And then she wasn’t wearing it. 

In the next photograph, Leah’s mother wasn’t wearing anything at all and Erica’s mother wasn’t wearing anything either, and the two women were kissing and touching.

Leah closed her eyes and closed the envelope, not looking at the rest, although there were plenty more.  She couldn’t bear to look through them, the only thought on her mind not the two women captured on film, by the man who took the photographs. 

Because there was really no question.

Leah knew exactly who had been holding the camera. 

She put the box back, turned out the light, and went back into the darkroom.  To think she’d believed her mother would be shocked by what she’d discovered under Mr. Nolan’s bed! Leah was careful to slide the bolt and lock the padlock, putting the tapestry back in place before starting to get dressed.  She was tying a pair of Keds when Erica came down the hall, still wet from her shower and wearing a robe, hair wrapped in a towel. 

“Where are you going?”  Erica asked with a frown. 

“I’m going to my house.”  Leah pulled her hair out from under her collar.  “I need to get some things.” 

Erica’s eyes widened.  “What about your mom?” 

“I’m invisible.”  Leah smiled and Erica gave her a knowing look.  Leah’s room was on the bottom floor of their split-level, and she couldn’t count how many times she’d snuck in and out of her room after her mother was asleep, or when she was supposed to be grounded. 

Leah put an arm around her friend’s neck, giving her a long hug.

“She’s not going to kill you!”  Erica pulled away, laughing.  “I’m sure you’ll be right back.” 

The walk to Leah’s house was short, and she came to the house from the back, through Mr. and Mrs. Kohut’s yard, so as not to be seen.  She checked all the windows to make sure she didn’t see anyone before sliding her screen and window open.  Her room was untouched—clothes still all over the floor, books strewn on her desk.  She shoved those into her book bag and then grabbed a duffel out of the closet, quietly emptying her drawers into it. 

Kneeling to get her skirts, she heard her mother’s voice drifting through the heating grate.  Leah’s room was right on the other side of the kitchen, and she realized her mother must have company.

“You can’t do this,” her mother said.

It was a man’s voice responding to her, too soft for Leah to hear. 

“I know you care about her,” her mother went on.  “But you’re making a huge mistake.  This is just some mid-life crisis drama.  You’ll get over this.” 

Leah froze, heart leaping in her chest.  Who was she talking to? 

“Rob, you have to stop this!”  her mother cried.  “You can’t be with Leah, you just can’t.  Just think—what would Susan say if she knew?  She’s rolling over in her grave!” 

Oh my God. 

She remembered the phone ringing at the Nolans’ that morning and realized it must have been her mother.  He’d come here to tell her, and now her mother was pulling out Erica’s dead mother as ammunition?  Leah stared at the heating grate as if she could see them, and this time she heard his voice, raised enough for her to make out his words.

“Patty, I love her,” he said, his tone firm. 

“It’s impossible!”  Her mother’s voice rose to almost a screech.  Leah winced, wanting to cover her ears, but she didn’t.  “It’s illegal!” 

“It’s not impossible,” he replied calmly.  “And it’s not illegal.  She’s an adult and this is what she wants.” 

“Rob, no!”  Her mother’s voice, pleading.  Was she crying?  “You just can’t do this!” 

“Give me a good reason why?”  he demanded and Leah’s heart swelled, hearing the determination in his voice.  He really did love her!

“Because Leah’s just a child—she’s a baby.  She never had a father in her life, and that’s all this is.  She doesn’t love you—she loves the idea of having a man in her life.” 

Leah stiffened at her words.  It wasn’t true.  Of course it wasn’t true—but would Rob believe her mother’s words?  She heard his silence and wondered at it.  Was he considering it?  Leah clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms.

“Rob, you know I love you.”  Her mother’s words were softer now, hard to hear, and Leah leaned in, horrified, to hear her.  “I’ve loved you for years.  After Susan died, you told me you couldn’t…we couldn’t…because you didn’t want to dishonor her or hurt Erica.  What do you think you’re doing now?” 

This isn’t happening.  My mother is in love with Rob? 

Leah knew she’d always had a little teasing crush on him, but…

Then she remembered the pictures under his bed, the ones tucked way at the back of the cabinet, in the bottom of the box.  Hidden. 

“The past is past, Patty.”  Rob spoke clearly.  “I can’t help how I feel.  I love Leah and she loves me.” 

“But she’s my daughter!”  my mother choked.  “Please! Don’t do this!” 

Leah’s heart should have broken, hearing her mother’s sobs, but it didn’t.  Instead, it floated in her chest, beating thick and hard with so much love and pride as she heard Rob tell her, “She may be your daughter, Patty, but she’s her own woman, and she knows what she wants.” 

I do,
Leah thought. 
I do, I do.