Secrets & Lies (7 page)

“How's that lovely daughter of yours doing?” Janie asked.

“When I
hear
from her, it sounds like she's doing great.”

Janie laughed. “Don't take it personally, Martin. When kids go away to college, they want to spread their wings and fly. Some cling to their parents and are afraid to let go, but others become
very
independent.”

“Oh, I know. She's definitely changing, she's—”

“Growing up?”

“I guess that's what you call it.”

Uncle Thomas opened his private office door. “I thought I heard your voice, Martin. Come on in. How are you?”

He was dressed in his usual garb—white shirt and loosened tie, trousers with suspenders, and tennis shoes. Still had a head of wavy white hair, a bushy white mustache, and glasses. My mom's attorney and friend.

“I'm fine, Uncle Thomas,” I said as we shook hands. “You look dandy.”

“I don't feel dandy. My back is acting up again.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

He waved a hand to dismiss any pity. “Come on in. Can I get you anything?”

I declined and followed him into the little office where nearly a year ago he had handed me the biggest surprise of my life. When I closed the door myself, Thomas raised his eyebrow at me. It was going to be one of
those
kinds of talks.

“What can I do for you, Martin?” he asked as I sat in front of his desk. He moved to his own chair and lowered himself slowly into it, wincing as he went.

“Have you seen a doctor?” I asked.

“Yeah. I get these every once in a while, I'm just getting old.”

“Maybe you're working too hard. Aren't you ever going to retire?”

“I'll retire on the day I die, Martin. I can't stand to do nothing.” He indicated the piles of folders and paperwork. “Look at this, Martin. It's more work than I can handle. I'm a very lucky lawyer at my age. Now what can I do for you? You look concerned. How's your mother?”

I told him the results of Mom's medical evaluation, and Thomas nodded grimly. “I was wondering when it would come to this point,” he said. He seemed truly broken up about the news and went into a spell of private grief.

“Uncle Thomas,” I began, as gently as I could, “I came to ask you about any arrangements that might have been made. You know, for her funeral.”

He snapped out of it and nodded. “Yes, Martin, she took care of all that. Once she realized she had Alzheimer's, she made all the arrangements with me. She paid for a funeral for herself. It was part of the process of eliminating her assets. You don't have to worry about it.”

I nodded and then just gazed at him.

“What?” he asked.

“I think you know a lot more about my mom than you've admitted to me.”

My statement surprised him. His eyes blinked rapidly for a second. When he didn't say anything, I continued. “I've never really asked you about it, Uncle Thomas. Last time you said you didn't know what was in that envelope and strongbox. But I have a feeling you really did know. You've been the only person I'm
aware of
that Mom trusted and was close to, and I've never ever talked to you about it. So tell me, Uncle Thomas, did you know what was in that stuff last year?”

He averted his eyes and stared at the desk for a long time. His silence was my answer. Then he said, “Martin, your mother made me promise not to let on that I knew her story until after she was gone.”

“So you know—everything?”

He nodded. “I'm sorry. I should have told you.”

“You've read the diaries?”

“No. She wouldn't let me. Those were for your eyes only.”

“Why would she not want me to know you know? It doesn't make sense.”

“All she said was that it would build character for you to deal with it on your own. I wasn't to interfere. It was up to you whether to tell the world her secret as soon as you could, or keep it under wraps as you're doing, or sell the life story after she's gone. My role has been to carry out her wishes, Martin, and that's all. And you should know that everything she did—everything she's done since the day you were born was for you. She went into hiding, as you probably know by now, to protect you. She loved you more than anything.”

“Protect me from whom?”

He wrinkled his brow. “Don't you know?”

I shook my head. “I haven't read all the diaries. It's too painful. Well, it was for a while. I couldn't do it. I'm just now reading the fourth one.”

“I see.”

“So who is it?”

“They were people who wanted to harm her. And you.”

“Who? Are they still out there?”

“I don't know. It's possible. It's been a long time, though. If they were going to find her, I think they would've by now.”

“Uncle Thomas,
who are they
? And another thing. Do you know who Richard Talbot really is? Did you know my father?”

His expression said it all. He was a man who knew that question would come someday. “No, I didn't know him.” Thomas closed his eyes as if it hurt him to tell me. “Please, Martin. Don't make me go against her wishes. I'm not to get involved. She wanted you to read her story in the diaries. All the answers are there, Martin.”

“I was never a big reader.”

He smiled. “I think that concerned her, because
she
was.”

“Jesus.” I slapped the arm of the chair in anger.

“Please don't be upset. All will be revealed, Martin. It's really not for me to tell you. I love you like a son. I've known you since you were a baby.”

I paused before asking this one. “Did you and my mom ever—?”

Uncle Thomas grinned, and the familiar sparkle in his eyes returned.

“Martin, I asked her to marry me in 1964, but she turned me down. We stayed friends, though. That's all there is to it. I went on and married Martha, we had a long marriage, God bless her soul, and two beautiful kids.”

“But?”

His eyes welled with tears. “But I always carried a torch for Judy. I never stopped loving her. She was quite a woman.”

“Still is.”

He smiled again and used a finger to wipe an eye underneath his glasses. “Yes. You're right. I'm sorry.” He looked at me with kindness and asked, “How long did the doctor say she had?”

I shrugged. “No one knows. It could be another year. It could be just weeks.”

Then he really started to cry.

1961

F
EBRUARY
8, 1961

I'm in Beverly Hills!!

I'm in the fancy Beverly Hills Hotel, and I'm so excited and can't sleep. So here I am, dear diary. Maybe writing will calm me down. I haven't written much lately, I was kind of down in the dumps after that business with the policeman.

Anyway, the big day arrived and we flew from Idlewild Airport to Los Angeles on TWA. This was a very different experience from when I flew back to Odessa in '58. The airport was much busier. It's expensive to fly. Peter's company is sending him to a lawyer convention and went all out on expenses. Peter and Lucy paid for my ticket, but they won't let me offer any payment. Our plane was full of men wearing suits, except for a handful of ladies here and there, always accompanied by a man. I think I was the only single girl, but I felt like a movie star. TWA is supposedly the “airline of the stars,” but I didn't see any celebrities on the plane. The stewardesses were cute and treated everyone like royalty. We had drinks and food. The flight lasted six and a half hours, so after a while the ride got a little old. One stewardess announced that beginning later in the year, the airline will show movies during the flight, and everyone applauded.

A taxi took us to Beverly Hills. Traffic was heavy. Peter told Lucy
and me about the freeways, the big roads with no stoplights that were being constructed to help with the traffic congestion. We didn't see any on the way to the hotel. Peter thinks only two or three freeways are in operation, but we'll see and maybe drive on one when we go to Hollywood tomorrow.

The Beverly Hills Hotel is pretty ritzy and famous. And
gorgeous
! I can't imagine what it costs. It's like a palace. I have a room to myself, and Peter and Lucy are next door. There's a lovely swimming pool outside, and that's good because the climate here in California is wonderful. I can't believe it's February. Back in New York it's cold and wet. Here it's bright and sunny and warm and
beautiful
!

For dinner we went to the Brown Derby in Hollywood! Wow, was that ever fun. A lot of movie stars are supposed to eat there, especially at lunchtime. We didn't see anyone famous, though. The building is shaped like a derby hat. I once saw an episode of
I Love Lucy
that takes place there. The Cobb Salad was supposed to be the thing to get, so that's what I ordered. It was delicious—greens with roasted chicken pieces, bacon, hard-boiled egg, tomato, chives, and Roquefort cheese.

Peter and Lucy were real tired after the long flight, so we came back to the hotel after dinner. They went to bed, and I'm wideawake. This is so much fun. Tomorrow I'm going to Disneyland! I'm like a kid waiting up for Santa Claus.

It feels good to get away from New York. I haven't been very happy lately. The policeman got out of the hospital in a couple of days after the “assault.” He'd had several broken ribs and a punctured lung. That's pretty serious, so I felt bad about that. Freddie wouldn't speak to me for a week, but I think we're past that now.

So I'm very excited to be here in California, where I've never been. I'll have fun with Lucy, but at night it's kind of lonely here in the room by myself. I almost envy Lucy for having a great marriage.
Almost
. I'm not looking to join that club.

Okay, time to try and sleep. I have to get my rest and look my best when I meet Mickey Mouse tomorrow.

F
EBRUARY
9, 1961

Oh, dear diary, magic, magic, magic! What a fabulous day. I was transported to another world, a fairyland, a place of dreams. Disneyland! It was everything I imagined it to be and more.

Lucy and I each got a “special season ticket book,” which included admission and coupons for ten rides for only
3.75. It sounds expensive, but that's a good deal. If you bought tickets for rides separately, that would cost over
6.00.

I did see Mickey Mouse and told him—I think it was really a
her
inside that get-up—that I was in love with him, and I asked if he'd take me away with him somewhere, ha ha. There were other Disney characters walking around, too, and actors in costume, like Snow White. My favorite area was Tomorrowland, where we rode the Submarine Voyage ride and saw an incredible movie called
America the Beautiful
on a huge Cinerama screen. The monorail was amazing, I felt like I was in a science-fiction movie. The Western Mine Train in Frontierland was unbelievable. There were mechanical moving animals along the way that looked very real. We rode the Matterhorn Bobsled in Fantasyland twice. Lucy screamed like a teenager, it was so funny. I was a kid again, too, all day long.