Page 81 of Luck of the Devil
“For me?”
She nodded, then got up from the table and walked into the living room. A few seconds later, she came back in with her purse and sat down again. She reached inside and pulled out a cream-colored envelope, which she handed to me. “I’ve been carryin’ it around in my purse, scared I was gonna lose it.”
The first thing I noticed was it was heavier than a standard letter. It was addressed to my aunt, and my mother’s name and address were handwritten in the upper left corner. I went to lift the envelope flap but realized it was still sealed. “You didn’t open it?”
Her face stretched with indignation. “It may have my name on it, but it wasn’t mine to open. Your mother made it clear it was yours.”
I picked up my unused butter knife and slid the top open, then pulled out a cream stationary card with gold foil initials—SJA. While the card was thick, it didn’t account for the weight of the envelope. I opened the card and found a small silver key attached to the inside with clear tape. Box 172 was handwritten underneath it.
Perplexed, I turned the card so Malcolm could read it.
“Safe deposit box?” he murmured.
“That’s what I’m thinking. It’s the right shape and the number fits.”
Malcolm turned to my aunt. “Did she say why she was sending this?”
“No. I asked her why she couldn’t just give it to you herself, but she claimed she had her reasons. She said not to give it to you unless you came to see me.”
I shot Malcolm a look of confusion. How could she have known I’d come see her sister?
“I confess,” she said, “when I saw that she’d died, I nearly came to the funeral, but I wasn’t sure your father would want me there. The last time he and I spoke, we didn’t end on good terms.” She grimaced. “In fact, it got pretty heated.”
“You and my father argued?” I asked in surprise. I could understand why she’d argue with my mother, but my father made it his business to be agreeable. I could count on one hand the number of people I’d heard him raise his voice to.
She hesitated, glancing at my grandmother before turning back to me. “Your mother’s the only person I told about this, and she definitely didn’t appreciate what I had to say.” She grimaced again. “The saying don’t shoot the messenger obviously came from truth.”
She told my mother something bad about my father? Had she discovered my father was up to something shady?
After she drew in a deep breath, she shook out her hands, then set them on the table. “After your mother and I had our argument at Andi’s party, I knew I needed to cool down, so I headed to your father’s office to hide until everyone left.” She shrugged with a resigned look. “I mean, let’s be honest. I didn’t fit in with your mother’s friends. I was only there because I loved you girls, and I came with Mom and Dad. I figured the best thing I could do was to get out of her hair.”
“My father was mad you were in his office?” That seemed strange given his office had never been off-limits.
“Not exactly.” Her cheeks flushed. “Like I said, I’d planned to hide out, so I brought a bottle of wine with me, and I drank quite a bit of it. I sat in the chair in the corner and fell asleep.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “When I woke up, I heard sounds that could have come from a porno movie.” She made a face at my grandparents. “Sorry.”
My grandmother looked too mesmerized by the story to be offended that her daughter had obviously watched porn. “Don’t stop there,” she said. “What happened?”
“It had gotten dark outside, so the room was really dark. When I opened my eyes, I could see two people hovering over the desk. It took me all of two seconds to realize your dad was screwing Sarah Jane from behind on the desk. Only…” Her cheeks pinkened. “It wasn’t Sarah Jane.”
“My father was having an affair,” I said, my heart sinking. If he had a history of affairs, then he very well could have been having one with the woman who showed up at my mother’s door.
She nodded with an apologetic look. “I wasn’t sure what to do. They obviously didn’t know I was there, and I hated to interrupt them. Anyway, by the time I had sorted out how to let them know I was there, they’d already finished—she wasn’t very quiet, by the way. I almost think she wanted your mother to find them, but your father slapped his hand over her mouth to quiet her, not that it slowed them down any.”
“Hannah Nicole,” my grandmother admonished.
“What?” Her eyes widened with feigned innocence. “It’s all true.”
“Did they ever see you?” Malcolm asked.
She turned to him. “When they finished, they lingered for a few seconds before Paul slapped her ass?—”
“Hannah!” my grandmother cried out. “We don’t need all the details!”
“And then pulled her skirt down. They kissed and they agreed they needed to go out separately. So she left first and your father cleaned himself off with some tissues. It was while he had his dick hanging out of his pants?—”
“Hannah!”
She ignored her mother. “—I said, ‘Not bad, although the conclusion seemed a little rushed. Four out of five.’ He spun around, shoving himself back into his pants, and accused me of being a voyeur. I told him I was there first, and it wasn’t my fault they were so horny they hadn’t noticed the drunk woman sleeping in the corner.”
