“I’m sorry, but I really must go. We’ll return soon,” Ruth promised, though I knew she wouldn’t come back if Alice was in the house.
“Goodbye,” Mother said, a bit forlorn.
“Come, John,” Ruth said to her son, who was standing by his grandmother’s side.
John frowned and shook his head. “I want to stay at Grandmother’s.”
For the first time, I saw Ruth lose her temper. “Obey me this instant,” she said to her son in a sharp voice.
John’s brown eyes grew wide, and he scurried across the foyer to his mother’s side.
Ruth didn’t apologize to us, and she didn’t say goodbye as she turned and fled the house.
Mother stood at the door, staring at Ruth’s retreating form, her brow troubled. “I wonder what could be bothering her?”
I felt sick to my stomach as I turned toward Alice.
She simply looked away.
I tried calling Ruth several times that morning, but she didn’t answer her phone. No doubt she felt betrayed by me, and perhaps even my parents, though they didn’t know Alice’s identity.
Before lunch, Alice went up to her room for a nap, and I followed her a few minutes later. Father had left the house to meet with the mayor regarding Lindbergh’s visit, and my mother was in the kitchen with our hired girl, Ingrid, planning the week’s menu.
I tapped on Alice’s bedroom door and waited, trying to steady my nerves. Anger had radiated through me since Ruth left. My dear, sweet sister-in-law didn’t deserve this. Not from Andrew, not from Alice, and not from me.
Alice opened the door, only partway, and said, “Yes?”
“I know who you are.”
“Of course you do. I knew that from the moment I met you. No doubt the mousy little Ruth warned you about me.”
“Don’t speak about my sister-in-law that way.” I was trying to keep my voice low, but it rose with anger. “I want you to leave this house immediately.”
“How will you make me?” Alice asked, putting her hands on her hips. “By telling your parents who I am? It’ll only hurt them to know the truth.”
“I don’t even know what the truth is. You’re probably not even pregnant.”
A glimmer of fear or unease filled Alice’s eyes, and she said, “I am pregnant.”
I paused. It was the first time I had seen anything real or authentic in her. She was afraid of being single and pregnant. But who did she have to blame? Surely my brother hadn’t tricked herinto this. They were both at fault. Unless ... “Is my brother even the father?”
Alice’s chin lifted as she glowered at me. “If I say he is, then he is. Now beat it, Miss High and Mighty. I’m sure you have a few skeletons in your closet that you don’t want aired. It wouldn’t take me long to find them, either. So, you stay on your side of the house, and I’ll stay on mine, and we’ll get along just fine.”
“I don’t know what you want from my parents, but I’m begging you not to hurt them.” I didn’t care if I had to grovel in front of her. “And don’t hurt Ruth, either. She’s the sweetest person in the world. Andrew doesn’t deserve her. It’s not her fault that her husband—”
“You just leave my affairs to me, you understand?” Her gaze was filled with ice. “Then I can leave yours to you, and we all get what we want.”
I wasn’t even going to pretend like I wasn’t hiding anything. It would be a lie to defend myself. “What do you want?”
Again her defenses slipped, and I saw behind her mask, if only for a moment. “I want, for once in my life, to not be the victim. To have control of my own destiny.”
And with that, she closed the door in my face.
I stared at the wood panel for a heartbeat, wondering at her comment.
The rest of the afternoon dragged on as I tried getting ahold of Ruth. I called a few of my music students to let them know I was resuming lessons, and then I spent an hour practicing on the piano in our parlor. It had been months since I’d played, and my fingers ached, but my heart was strengthened. When I played for myself, music was a healing balm.
My mind returned to Mr. Hemingway’s letter, tucked safely away in my correspondence box, and the joy I had felt singing in the Dingo Bar in Paris. His idea was ludicrous. I couldn’t sing at a speakeasy in Saint Paul. But I couldn’t bring myself to destroy the name and address of the proprietor, either.
