The Lingering Past

I knocked on Lizzie's door and let myself in. She was in her dressing gown, sitting by the window in a floral-patterned armchair. Her elbows were on the small, round wooden table as she smoked. Her hair was confined in metal wave clips, and brown had begun showing on her roots. On the table was a stack of paper in disarray, which I presumed to be the script for her new role.

"What is it?" She sounded bothered by my presence. "I'm busy."

I sat in front of her and said quietly: "I need to know why you said Thomas sold Laurie just like how he sold you."

"What?"

I leaned in and laced my fingers, telling her in a low whisper that I had met Neil. I told her that I worried there'd be trouble, that I needed to know who Victoria was, what she had to do with Neil and the family.

"Why don't you just go and ask Thomas?" She crossed her arms.

"I plan to," I said, "but not after I have irrefutable evidence. I wouldn't want to hear his lies."

Lizzie looked down, pursed her lips as if she was straightening her thoughts, then looked up again: "I know nothing of Victoria and Neil. However, if you didn't know, Victoria's maiden name is Lebedeva."

My heart dropped. Struggling to find words, I rapidly tapped my fingertips on the table: "Is she related to Mikhail Lebedev?"

"She's his daughter," Lizzie answered broodingly. "He never wanted her to be in this business. I met her on a set. And wouldn't you know it, Thomas saw an opportunity in it."

"Opportunity?" I was confused for only a second. Snickering, the tapping continued. "I can't believe he traded Laurie for Wesley."

"What's there not to believe?" Lizzie sighed. "After all, you must admit that Wesley is more useful for business than Laurie."

-----

On Sunday I decided to see Neil. Thomas wasn't in the house when I left. No one said a thing to me about Thomas' whereabouts. It wasn't hard to guess. He was either in Angelino Heights seeking solace from his dead wife or had gone to Mildred Brown. I didn't bother to ask.

I knocked on the door, concerned I'd encounter someone who could recognize me. At first, there was no sound, and I wondered if he had already left or moved to another hotel to avoid being seen in the county. Though that would be out of character for him since his reappearance had to serve a purpose, and he wasn't a man who'd be afraid to be seen.

Then the door opened, and Neil greeted me with an insincere smile. Victoria was sitting sideways on the couch with a drink next to her.

"We've been waiting for you," she said without moving an inch.

"Should I act surprised?" I asked as Neil closed the door behind me.

"You need to learn to smile more," she poured another glass of whiskey and extended her hand to me. "This will help."

I stood tense and still.

"Well, what a pity," she put down the glass. A clink was heard when the bottom touched the table. 

"How do you know each other?" I asked the man next to me slowly while fixating on her.

"Victoria is a friend," he stated.

"I don't doubt it," I said tauntingly and repeated my question. "But how do you know each other?"

"Following that tragic series of events, she got in touch and had helped me quite generously," he lied without batting an eye. "Without her, I wouldn't be alive."

I wouldn't be alive, not he, not anyone else. It had always been 'I' for him.

"What do you want?" I asked irritably. In hindsight, I shouldn't have entertained them and should've kept calm. "What do both of you want?"

The raising of brows was the answer.

-----

On the same evening, Thomas took me to dinner. Not in The Woodpeckers, but in a place where the family held no connection. There was no explanation for this unforeseen invitation, at least not from what I could gather. The last time he and I sat alone in a public place was long ago when I had yet to take his last name.

Being alone with him bewildered me; I'd rather be anywhere else. It made my nerves tingle. Nothing of value was exchanged. He said nothing about the children, the business, or tomorrow's work. Nothing, as if he and I were strangers forced to be at the same table.

In truth, we never knew each other to start with. He was my husband, but all the loving memories I had and cherished were made with his younger brother.

Like yesterday I was in my blue chiffon dress, large-brimmed white straw hat, lashes tinted, and lips painted red, running along the shore under the star-dazzled, pink-colored sky in the cold, spring breeze in Santa Monica. He was standing bare feet in the sand that was still warm from the daytime sun. His sleeves were rolled up, and he laughed like an ordinary man.

He held me from behind. His arms were around my waist, and he slowly spun me around before picking me up and carrying me. He jokingly threatened to throw me into the ocean. I protested, and he smiled. I even dared to think he'd say he loved me at that moment.

Life was bearable when I was with Laurie.

"Someday we'll put it all behind," he claimed daringly, "someday we'll leave for afar."

That someday never came. I turned him down and married Thomas. I tried to stay away from him and care for his brother. At first, it was all right, for I admired Thomas, and he used to be kind to me.

But as time went on, it became difficult. His already scarce smile was seen less. The business grew, and he turned to solitude, to that lifeless house in Angelino Heights. In my ignorant days, I tried to console him, wanted to get him to open up and be close.

I wasn't sure when he stopped trusting me fully. Occasionally, I failed to conceal my genuine emotions, and he saw right through my fragile façade. He was gifted in that sort of thing. I wasn't born to act. I wasn't born to be grand or to be anything special. And I indeed wasn't born to be Mrs. Thomas Murphy.

Perhaps his trust started slipping when it didn't take long before I found myself in Laurie's arms again. I begged pathetically for Laurie's forgiveness and love. And I was undeservingly forgiven, even though I had promised Thomas to leave him for good, even though he was due to marry Victoria.

Laurie asked to annul his engagement. It was denied. He married her in 1933 and was subjected to another layer of eternal unhappiness.

Yet, regardless of his sins, Thomas was a man of magnificence. Without him, there would be no family.

When I started seeing Laurie again, he began going to Mildred Brown. Though she and the last Mrs. Murphy shared an uncanny resemblance, or so I heard, my position wasn't threatened. He needed me. He chose me to be his wife. He was the county's most eligible bachelor, with the looks and the money. Especially the money. The diamonds always spoke louder than love. He could've gotten anyone he wanted. A glamorous starlet, a daughter of the elite, a widow with a sizeable fortune, anyone. Ultimately, he chose me, an already married scrawny Mongol orphan who was undeniably a whore.

Wasn't I lucky?

"Charles McGrath is his name, isn't it?" He was indifferent.

"What?"

"Don't lie," he said coldly, "I know."

"Do you want an explanation?" I asked.

"No," he shrugged, "I just want to tell you that Clarence won't be loyal to you. And I will only stop him if the secrets he sells affect this family."

"Doesn't my reputation count?" I finished the last bite of my food.

"Your reputation?" He laughed as if I had just told the funniest joke. "What reputation do you have?"

"Is this why we are here?" I decided not to engage further with that question and changed the conversation. "To talk about Charlie?"

"No," he said dismissively. "Emma keeps pestering me, saying we are acting like strangers and should spend more time together. Therefore, here we are. Here I am. I'm trying to make my sister happy. She's been through quite a lot recently."

"All right," I said. The waiter came to ask if any dessert was wanted, and I told him I'd like to have some cheesecake.

-----

"What now?" I said melancholically, staring into the dim-lit streets through the car window.

His hand was on the ignition: "Are you going back to the Hills?"

"That's not what I meant," I attempted not to sound upset. "I mean, what do we do now?"

He smacked his lips: "I think we've done enough together tonight. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Thomas," I turned to him and said blandly as if those words meant nothing, "we can't go on like this."

I didn't know what I wanted to accomplish by speaking up.

"If you have the slightest thought of a divorce, I suggest you let it go," he turned his head and looked deep into my eyes. In a menacing yet composed tone, he said: "I don't care if you're fucking my brother. You can even say you love him, and I wouldn't give a damn. But remember, you are staying in this family as my wife."