Brenda Novak - The Secrets She Kept

Regardless, Nancy was happier without Josephine. That was how anxious her employer had made her. The minute Keith’s mother would glide into the shop, enveloped in a cloud of expensive perfume, Nancy’s blood pressure would skyrocket and she’d begin to perspire—even in winter. Because there would be no peace until Josephine left. Josephine would criticize and belittle and nitpick until Nancy was almost in tears.

Attention to detail—that’s how a shop stands out, she’d say as if Nancy had never heard that before. Josephine had the power to make Nancy feel inept with a single, imperious glance—never mind that she’d been managing the business efficiently for seven years. Josephine had never even threatened to get rid of her; that, right there, proved she was doing a good job. The “Queen of Fairham” had fired every manager who’d come before her—in a matter of months. And yet Nancy had never received any thanks or gratitude, no kindness or camaraderie. She’d gotten a Christmas bonus each year, but that had more to do with how Josephine wanted to be perceived than recognition for a job well done. Josephine could see only what hadn’t been accomplished or what could’ve been handled better.

In short, her boss was—had been—the most difficult individual Nancy had ever met, the worst kind of perfectionist. And yet, Nancy couldn’t help admiring her. Josephine was everything Nancy would never be—regal, commanding, perfectly put together and never an ounce overweight. Josephine was nearly twice Nancy’s age and yet Nancy couldn’t compete with her grace or her beauty.

But then...no one could compete with Josephine. Maisey, her own daughter, gorgeous in her own right, felt as inept and unattractive around her mother as Nancy did. Nancy had become close enough to Maisey to understand that.

Climbing out of bed to confront her wall-length mirror, Nancy sucked in her stomach and turned to the side. She gave herself this critical once-over every day, even though her reflection didn’t change much. Three years ago, she’d lost thirty pounds and kept them off. So there’d been some improvement since she’d last seen Keith. She’d felt a lot better about herself since then. But she still hadn’t lost the final twenty pounds.

She wasn’t built to be a size 4, she concluded—and that was her one great regret. With thick, dark hair, which fell to her shoulders in a healthy sheen, wide, hazel eyes and smooth, clear skin, she had a pretty face. But she wanted to have more than a pretty face. She wanted to have a body to match. To bring Keith Lazarow to his knees, make him sorry he’d so casually walked away from her.

Maybe she needed to accept the truth. She wasn’t going to bring Keith to his knees. How many times had she promised herself she’d be so lean and toned when he returned to Fairham that he wouldn’t even recognize her?

Too many times to count. Yes, she’d made some strides in that direction, but he’d stayed away for so long she’d begun to think he’d never come back and her love of food had won out. Now there was no chance to compensate for procrastinating her diet. His mother was dead. He’d return to the island for the funeral, which meant Nancy would see him in a few days, at most a week.

Unless... What if she didn’t go to the funeral? Then she might be able to avoid him. If she was lucky...

She considered pretending to be sick. But the thought faded as quickly as it had burst into her mind. No, she couldn’t do that. Her conscience dictated that she show up, no matter how much she’d disliked her employer. Even if Josephine hadn’t been her boss, Nancy would attend the funeral for Maisey’s sake. She wouldn’t want Keith to think he was the reason she’d stayed away. Besides, it wasn’t as if she really wanted him back. There were other men in the world, men who were far less complicated than Keith Lazarow. She’d long since decided she was lucky he’d moved on, because it gave her the opportunity to find someone who was easier to get along with.

A knock sounded at the front door. Simba, her Chow Chow, dashed in from the back through his doggy door and immediately went into a barking frenzy.

Startled by the noise, Nancy stepped away from the mirror and hurried to grab her robe. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and had no idea who this could be. But when she pulled Simba back and opened the door, she was pleased to see Maisey Lazarow-Romero. As much as Nancy resented Maisey’s mother and brother, she adored Maisey. They’d been friends since Maisey had returned to the island just before Keith left. That was when Maisey had started working at the shop. Once she married Rafe, she’d cut back on her hours to spend time with his daughter, Laney, and then the new baby, Bryson. She was also writing her children’s books again. But she still came in and helped Nancy arrange flowers once or twice a week, and those days were always fun. The two of them chatted and laughed like high school girls.

“What are you doing here?” Nancy asked in surprise.

Maisey shook the rain from her umbrella as Nancy stepped back to admit her. “I need to talk to you.”

Nancy almost glanced around to find her purse so she could check her phone. If Maisey had tried to call, she hadn’t heard the ring. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Just trying to make sense of...of what’s happened.”

Nancy peered through her front window at Maisey’s Audi. Was it running? “Are the kids outside?”

“No. I dropped them off at Rafe’s mother’s. She’s been dying to have them, and I need the time to take care of a few things.”

“I’m glad Rafe’s mom is so supportive.” Especially since Maisey’s own mother hadn’t been the type to babysit, although she’d liked having Laney over now and then. Nancy had heard a great deal about those visits—because Josephine’s interest in Laney had been so unexpected.

“Her arthritis is getting bad enough that she can’t take Bryson very often,” Maisey was saying. “But Laney’s there to help, and I felt I really needed to be free today.”

“I can watch them for you, too,” Nancy said, “on days like today, when I’m off, or after work. So keep that in mind. I’m sorry about your mother, by the way.” They’d talked once, briefly, over the phone, but Nancy didn’t feel she’d properly expressed her condolences. She’d been too stunned to hear that Josephine had died.

A sad smile curved Maisey’s lips. “I appreciate that. Thanks for the flowers you sent home with Rafe.”

“I knew he was working over at the church, and I didn’t want to intrude on your grief, in case...in case you needed some time alone.” She’d paid for those flowers herself, and hoped Maisey would realize that but didn’t mention it.

“You’re always welcome at my house, no matter what,” Maisey said.

Guilt for feeling relief at Josephine’s passing made Nancy cringe. Here she was expressing her sympathy, and yet she was secretly glad Josephine was gone. “So...what’d you stop by to talk to me about?” she asked. “Have you decided on the date of the funeral?”

A shadow passed over Maisey’s face. “Not yet. We’re getting our own pathologist to do the autopsy, and that’ll take more time, which makes it difficult to proceed with...what normally happens when you lose a loved one.”

“Why go to the trouble? Of hiring a pathologist, I mean? Haven’t they already determined what...you know...caused her death?” Nancy hesitated to use the word suicide. That was such a painful thing for surviving family members to face. But even if Maisey hadn’t called on Tuesday morning, Nancy would’ve heard what the police had found—and what they thought. Everyone in Keys Crossing was talking about the fact that Josephine had taken her own life. Not much happened on the island that didn’t churn through the gossip mill. Josephine had been an important person, after all.