Public Secrets

in the home, Drew thought viciously. But she’d left soon enough, like the whore she was, leaving him with his wreck of a father. If the stupid old man had given her a few licks now and again, she wouldn’t have taken off.
He smiled at Emma. No, like Emma his mother would have sat with her hands folded in her lap and done just what she was told. All a woman needed was a man to set the rules, and enforce them.
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to go.”
He enjoyed seeing her eyes widen. It was a great game to dangle the funeral in front of her nose like a carrot on a stick.
Her hands sprang wet with sweat, but she fought to keep them steady in her lap. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to, Drew.”

He stroked her face then, gently, so that she could almost remember what it had been like in the beginning. It made it worse somehow, to remember. “No, you go ahead, Emma. You look so good in black. You’re sure that bitch Marianne isn’t going?”
“No. Johnno said she couldn’t make it.”
Another lie, and one she prayed Johnno wouldn’t reveal. Drew had done all he could to separate her from Marianne. And done it well enough, Emma thought wearily, that her old friend no longer called or bothered to drop by.
“That’s fine, then. If I found out she was going, you’d have to skip this little jaunt. She’s a bad influence on you, Emma. She’s a slut. Only pretended to be your friend so that she could get closer to your father. And then to me. I told you that she came on to me. Remember?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, that’s Johnno. Come on now, put on that sad sweet smile we all know and love.” Her lips curved automatically. “That’s a good girl. Now don’t forget to mention the benefit to any reporters,” he instructed as they walked downstairs. “Make sure you tell them how committed I am to raising money to research a cure for this horrible disease.”
“I will, Drew. I won’t forget.” She was terrified her knees would buckle. Maybe it was best if she didn’t go. Drew had told her again and again how helpless she was without him. “Drew, I—” But he was opening the door, and Johnno was standing there.
“Hello, baby.” He put his arms around her, as much to comfort as for comfort. “I’m so glad you’re going.”
“Yes.” She looked dully over his shoulder at Drew’s face. “I want to go.”
She fought demons during the flight. He was going to come after her. He had found out she’d taken the fifteen dollars and would come to punish her. He’d read her mind. He knew she wasn’t going back.
So great was her fear that she clung to Johnno’s arm as they deplaned and searched the crowd at the gate for Drew. She was sweating by the time they reached the limo, and shaking, and struggling just to breathe.
“Emma, are you sick?”
“No.” She moistened her dry lips. There was a man by the curb, lean, blond. What was left of her color drained. But he turned and it wasn’t Drew. “I’m just upset. Can I—can I have a cigarette?”

Drew wouldn’t let her smoke. He’d dislocated her finger the last time he’d caught her. But he wasn’t here now, she reminded herself as she pulled on the cigarette. She was alone in the limo with Johnno.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have come. I had no idea it would upset you this badly.” He was dealing with his own grief, great, stunning waves of it, and could only wrap an arm around her shoulders.
“I’ll be all right,” she told him. Then repeated the words over and over in her head like a prayer.
She hardly noticed the service—what words were said, what tears were shed in the warm, moist heat of noontime. In her heart she hoped Luke would forgive her for caring so little that he was being mourned. She felt dead herself, emotionally dead.
As people walked away from the quiet gravesite, away from the white and pink marble stones and lush flowers, she wondered if she would have the strength to follow through.
“Johnno.” Marianne stopped him, a gentle hand on his arm. Then instead of condolences, she kissed him. “I wish he could have taught me to cook,” she said, and made Johnno smile.
“You were his only complete failure.” He turned to Emma. “The driver will take you back to the airport. I need to go over to Luke’s apartment. Take care of a few things.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “You’ll be all right?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Though she hated herself, Marianne couldn’t make her