“My mother passed away last week,” he said.
I’d had no idea. Before I could express my condolences, he thrust the key into my hands and rushed away. He didn’t come back.
A long finger points at the passage. “Did you read that?”
“Yes.”
“He had the key.”
There’s a silence during which I can almost hear Theo’s mind churning in the silence that follows.
“Your great-grandfather had the key,” he says. “The Swiss story from the earlier letter was about something else, something unrelated.”
“A false lead.”
“Yes!” He turns toward me, excited like a boy. “Do you know anything about it?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“No childhood memories that could provide a clue?”
“Nothing at all.”
“That’s a shame…” A deep crease forms on his forehead. “We should read the rest of the letters, and if we don’t find any other mentions of the key, then we’ll go back to your grandfather and ask him.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We finish the tea. I scurry to the stove and feed the fire.
Then I settle again to read the next letter. It’s from Elise to Simon. She answers his questions about the extent of the destruction in Chambéry and tells him about her daily life. She also reports about my grandpa’s latest grades and some mischief he’d been up to. She tells Simon how sorry she is about his unfortunate friend. And then, without any transition, she goes on about how much she misses Simon, especially at night, and which of his attentions she misses most.
While perusing that part, I’m acutely aware of Theo’s big, strong, nice-smelling body next to mine, and it affects my breathing in a way that I fear he’ll notice. Perhaps that’s why, when a thought of a less raunchy nature occurs to me, I’m all too happy to share it.
“You know,” I say, “given my great-grandparents’ refusal to let anyone read their letters, I’d concluded that Simon had lied about being in the Resistance.”
“It’s understandable why you’d think that.”
“There were other elements, too. Like, he wouldn’t seek official recognition. According to Grandpa, every time the question came up, Simon would talk about his friends that had been killed during the war.”
Theo runs a hand over his shaved skull. “I see. He blamed himself for surviving.”
“Not really, no. He just repeated he was an exceptionally lucky man to return to his wife and son. It was all the reward he needed.”
Theo cocks his head. “And you found that suspicious?”
“Yes. But now I realize Simon was no liar. The reason he didn’t want us to read his correspondence with Elise was all the naughty bits!”
“Hmm.” He looks up at the ceiling, giving my theory some thought. Then he looks at me. “It’s true that almost every letter we’ve read so far had a paragraph or more of explicit content.”
“Exactly! A farmer’s son of Simon’s generation couldn’t handle the embarrassment of having his descendants discover the erotic letters he exchanged with his wife, even after their death.”
He scoots closer and touches my screen to bring it back to life. “Come on, let’s read another one!”
It’s because of the key,I tell myself. Theo can’t wait to find out more about the key. He’s a grown man. He can’t be this excited about reading another salacious passage next to me.
…Or can he?
ELISE
