Invisible, as Music Read online

  She heard a knock at the back door. “Coming,” she called.

  Outside, a boy from the club held a large hamper.

  “Come in,” she said, stepping back. “Just there, in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He set the hamper on the counter and reached inside to lay out containers of food. He handed her a chit for her signature. “Is that everything, Miss Cochran?”

  “Yes,” she said, scribbling her signature and handing it back to him. She lifted the corners of each container. “This is perfect. Thank the chef for me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He reached for the hamper.

  “Wait a minute. Let me have that chit again.”

  He looked on anxiously as he handed the slip of paper back to her. His face lit up when he saw that she’d added a ten-dollar tip.

  “Thank you for bringing it all the way here.”

  His freckled face split into a wide smile. “Yes, ma’am! Any time, Miss Cochran.”

  He grabbed the hamper and let himself out the back door to trot down the drive and across the road to the club’s long entry.

  Not sure what Meryn might like, Henrietta had ordered a variety: chicken salad, fruit salad, steamed shrimp, turkey, ham. The chef had included fresh rolls to make sandwiches, or they could just dish it out onto plates and eat it that way.

  She exhaled. “Why am I so nervous? You’d think I’m the one being interviewed.”

  But she was. She now had to accept that she was on the receiving end of this arrangement, which put her in an unfamiliar—and undesirable—position. If Meryn didn’t like her, didn’t feel welcome, didn’t choose to take her up on her offer, she wasn’t sure where to turn next.

  When the battered station wagon with the radical bumper stickers pulled into the drive, she couldn’t help but smile. She noticed Meryn was wearing slacks and a dress shirt rather than the shorts or jeans she’d worn on their previous encounters—even if they were unplanned.

  So, she put some effort into this as well.

  For some reason, that made Henrietta feel a little better. When Meryn hesitated in the driveway, uncertain which door to knock on, Henrietta opened the back door to call to her.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” Meryn said.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  Henrietta led the way into the kitchen. “I didn’t know what you like to eat, so I arranged for a few different things.”

  Meryn’s eyebrows raised when she saw the table. “I’ve been living off peanut butter and Cheerios. This is a feast. Thank you.” She picked up the two empty glasses. “May I pour us something to drink?”

  “There’s a pitcher of iced tea and another of cold water. Or milk if you prefer. I’d like iced tea.”

  Henrietta sat while Meryn poured iced tea for both of them. Meryn joined her at the table, taking her cues from Henrietta, waiting for her to spoon some chicken salad onto her plate before helping herself to some of the fruit and a few shrimp. They passed the serving dishes back and forth.

  “This is really good,” Meryn said. “Did Bonnie make this?” She immediately blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume you didn’t…”

  Henrietta chucked. “I can mix a can of tuna or make a sandwich, but I can’t stand long enough to do all this. I ordered it from the country club.” She shrugged. “I have to use up my quarterly food minimum there anyhow, so this wasn’t an inconvenience.”

  She eyed Meryn, noticing her manners—napkin on lap, no elbows on the table, no unnecessary clatter of silverware against the plate—those little things that could drive her crazy on a daily basis.

  “How old are you?”

  Meryn, caught chewing some chicken salad, swallowed and dabbed her mouth with her napkin before saying, “Twenty-three.”

  Henrietta paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Twenty-three. I thought you were an instructor at St. Aloysius.”

  “I am. I graduated with my master’s in May.”

  “How can you have finished your bachelor’s and master’s at such a young age?”

  Meryn grinned. “Well, I’m not any kind of prodigy if that’s what you’re thinking. When I enrolled at Pitt—the University of Pittsburgh—they had a minimum number of hours you had to maintain to be a full-time student.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice conspiratorially. “But they didn’t have a max. I figured I could get more for my money if I took more classes. So, I enrolled for between twenty-one and twenty-four credits every semester, plus summers. I finished my undergrad degree in two and a half years, and went straight to grad school.”

  She held up both hands. “And here I am.”

  She sat back and picked up her tea. “But why am I here?”

  Henrietta reappraised her in light of this new information. “Because I require live-in help, which I have been without since the end of August.” She tilted her head. “Did Beverly tell you anything about the position?”

  Meryn set her glass down and picked up a roll. As she buttered it, she said, “Yes. A bit. She said you need someone here at night. Maybe a little light cooking and chores.”

  Henrietta nodded.

  “She also said you could be difficult.”

  Henrietta’s bite of shrimp nearly flew across the table as she coughed. Meryn half-rose from her seat, but Henrietta waved her back down.

  “Sorry to be so blunt, Miss Cochran,” Meryn said when Henrietta’s coughing stopped, “but I’m not good at beating around the bush.”

  Henrietta stalled by taking a drink. No one had ever talked to her like that. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “I don’t mind difficult,” Meryn was saying. “It means you know what you want, and you like things to be done a certain way. That’s how I got so much done so quickly. I understand that.”

  “Are you always so opinionated?” Henrietta rasped when she could speak again.

  Meryn shrugged. “I’m afraid so. So, you’re difficult and I’m an opinionated dyke.”

  Henrietta’s mind whirled. What did a floodwall have to do with anything? “A what?”

  “A lesbian.” Meryn waited a moment to see what reaction this revelation would elicit.

  Henrietta blinked at her.

  “It means—”

  “I know what it means!” Henrietta snapped. “I just never… Are you really?”

  Meryn threw her head back and laughed. “I am. Really.”

  “And… do they know this? At the college?”

  Meryn raised one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Probably not. It hasn’t come up in conversation. But I won’t hide, and I won’t lie. If we’re to live together, you might as well know what you’re in for. And I’m very political. With next year’s election, I will be getting involved. You’ll probably have to put up with my griping about Reagan at least three times a week.”

  She did a double take at the look on Henrietta’s face. “Don’t tell me you voted for him.”

  Henrietta felt herself blushing. “All of my friends… You’re living in a very conservative area.”

  Meryn popped a shrimp into her mouth. “I can see I’ll have my work cut out for me.”

  Henrietta opened her mouth but then closed it. This was not going at all the way she’d planned. “So does that mean you accept my offer?”

  “Does that mean the offer is still on the table?”

  Henrietta paused to consider. This girl was unlike any other companion she’d ever had. If it didn’t work out, they’d drive each other mad. But somehow, she had a feeling it might work out. She held out her hand.

  Meryn smiled and shook it. “Now, I have to deal with Mrs. Middleston.”

  “Oh, yes.” Henrietta sobered. “Sally Middleston does not like me.”

  Meryn snorted. “So I gathered. I got an earful this morning when I told her where I was going.”

  “She’ll expect a month’s notice. I’ll pay your next month’s rent so that the month will be covered as she advertises for another boarder.”


  Meryn looked as if she wanted to argue but then changed her mind. “That sounds fair. Thank you. When do you want me to move in?”

  “Is tomorrow too soon?”

  Meryn stared for a moment. “I can do that.” She raised her glass. “To our new adventure, Miss Cochran.”

  “I think we can be on a first-name basis, don’t you?”

  Henrietta was as shocked as Meryn to hear those words issue from her mouth. She’d never been on a first-name basis with any of her help—not the companions, not Bonnie, not her yardman.

  “That,” she would say to herself much later when she thought about it, “should have told me then and there that this would not be like it had ever been before.”

  Chapter 5

  Ryn placed a last hanger in the closet and gave the shirt on it a tweak. An entire closet and dresser to herself. A large, airy room. A bathroom all her own. And no thumping music from three different stereos! The house was blissfully quiet.

  Vanessa had been heartbroken when Ryn got back to the boarding house yesterday and began packing.

  “What’ll I do?” she’d pouted.

  “Well, until you have another roommate,” Ryn had said, stooping to gather up Pooh, Eeyore, Roo, Kanga, Owl, and Piglet, “your friends can have this bed, and you won’t have to pick up the room every day.”

  Vanessa had thrown herself down on her bed, hugging Rabbit and Tigger. “This place will be awful without you.”

  Ryn sat down beside her. “This is a great school if you take advantage of everything it has to offer you. Maybe I’ll take you to Syracuse one of these weekends.”

  Vanessa had brightened at that, impulsively hugging Ryn good-bye.

  This morning, Ryn had made a point of seeking Mrs. Middleston out—finally finding her out back, hanging towels on the line—to thank her.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Mrs. Middleston said with a dismissive sniff. “But you’ll figure that out soon enough. When you do, don’t expect I’ll have an empty bed for you.”

  “Thanks anyhow,” Ryn had said, trying to make a graceful exit. “I’ll see you around. It’s a small town.”

  When she’d arrived at the house, Henrietta was just pulling her station wagon—a Chrysler Town & Country—into the garage. She was wearing her typical skirt and blouse with a lightweight coat as she maneuvered her crutches into place.

  “Good morning,” Ryn said. “Is this an okay time?”

  “It’s fine,” Henrietta said. “I’m just coming back from Mass at St. Rita’s. Come in.”

  She left the garage door open for Ryn to follow her inside.

  “You can bring your things in here or through the front door. And I have a key for you.”

  From the feel of the key—the smooth edges and the weight of the brass—it was old.

  “When you’re done, we can have lunch if you like. There’s plenty left from yesterday.”

  Now, Ryn folded her empty duffle bag and placed it on the top shelf in the closet. With a last satisfied look around, she went to find Henrietta, who was standing at the fridge, transferring containers to the counter. She noticed that Henrietta had changed into a different skirt and blouse. She supposed slacks weren’t practical with the leg braces. Maybe these were her equivalent of everyday clothes.

  “I can do that,” Ryn said, reaching for the refrigerator door.

  “I’m not helpless.”

  Ryn pulled up short, uncertain if she’d managed to do something wrong before she’d even been here an hour. “I know you’re not.”

  Henrietta glanced at her and then shuffled away. “If you’ll pour tea and get plates down for us, I’ll put these on the table.”

  Ryn had to open a couple of cupboards before she found the right one. Henrietta pushed the containers of food, one by one, along the counter until she could stand and move them to the table. Ryn had both glasses poured and the plates set before Henrietta finished with the last of the leftovers, but busied herself at the silverware drawer.

  “This food really is good,” Ryn said as they both helped themselves to portions from each container.

  “The club’s chef does a nice job,” Henrietta agreed. “Is the room satisfactory?”

  “It’s great,” Ryn said. “A room to myself. What a treat.”

  “You shared at Sally’s?”

  Ryn nodded. “A nice girl, but… And at home, I shared with my sister.”

  Henrietta spread some chicken salad on a roll. “Tell me about your family.”

  “I’ve got a sister two and a half years younger, and twin brothers in high school. My dad is an accountant and my mom’s a stay-at-home mom, but I think she’d like to go back to work now that the boys are old enough.”

  “And you live in Pittsburgh?”

  Ryn shook her head as she chewed. “Uniontown. My sister’s attending West Virginia University now; it’s closer to home, so she can drive back and forth. I stayed in Pittsburgh. There was more going on there.”

  “Politically, you mean?”

  “Yes…” Ryn wondered how much to say. “And more social life.”

  “Oh.”

  Ryn hid a smile at the blush that colored Henrietta’s cheeks. “How about you? Any siblings?”

  “No. I was an only child. My father owned a construction business. In fact he built some of the buildings on campus. We had a big house in the village, but… after I got sick, stairs were difficult. He built this house in 1950, anticipating my needs.”

  With Henrietta’s eyes lowered, focused on her plate, Ryn had a chance to study her. In their first couple of accidental meetings, Ryn hadn’t realized how slightly built Henrietta was. Now, she noted the hollows in Henrietta’s hands between thumb and forefingers, giving her hands a claw-like grasp; her dark hair, streaked liberally with silver, was cut short with severe, straight edges. Her eyes, when they weren’t shuttered, were a steely gray. In fact the word “steel” seemed to apply to a great many things about Henrietta Cochran.

  “How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Henrietta raised her gaze. “I’m fifty-three.”

  “And how old were you when you got polio?”

  Those gray eyes flashed for a second, and Ryn had the feeling she was stepping where few dared to go.

  “Fifteen.” Henrietta nudged a bowl. “Have the last shrimp.”

  Ryn decided it was a good time to follow Henrietta’s lead and change the subject. “Would you like to go down to the pond after lunch?”

  Henrietta met her eyes again. “The pond?”

  “Yeah. My little adventure kind of got in the way of your sketching the last time. Would you like to go back? It’s a nice day.”

  Henrietta swallowed a last bite as she thought about it. “That would be nice.”

  “I’ll carry your stuff if you’d like. I can bring a book and read. You won’t even know I’m there.” Ryn paused in the midst of folding her napkin. “If you want company, that is. I don’t mean to invite myself along. I can easily occupy myself up here.”

  “You’re more than welcome. You could bring your guitar.”

  “Really? The noise wouldn’t bother you?”

  “I enjoy music.”

  “I noticed the piano in the living room. Do you play?”

  “No. It was my mother’s. It hasn’t been played in years.” Henrietta angled her head. “Do you play piano, too?”

  “Not well, but yes.”

  Henrietta started to pick up her plate, but Ryn held out her hand to take it. “I can do the dishes quickly while you pack your sketching supplies.”

  For a moment, she wasn’t sure Henrietta would let go, but she did. Ryn carried the dishes to the sink and ran some hot water while Henrietta went to the studio.

  Ryn heaved a deep sigh as she washed the lunch dishes. Living with Henrietta Cochran was going to be like navigating a minefield.

  The scene on the canvas was taking shape—a view across the pond toward that old dock. It had been a long time sin
ce Henrietta had seen it or sketched it from the landing her father had built. And she hadn’t been on that dock since… She closed her eyes.

  Una’s bright copper hair, catching the sunlight as they lay side by side, holding hands and talking…

  “When the war is over, I’ll probably have to go back to England.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” Henrietta said, squeezing Una’s hand.

  “And I don’t want to. But my aunt says my mum will need me.” Una propped up on her elbow. “But don’t let’s think about that now.”

  “No.” Henrietta stared up into Una’s beautiful eyes that were the color of the sky. She wanted to stay like this forever.

  Una leaned over her, closer and closer, until their lips met—

  Henrietta caught herself. Her eyes, when she opened them, were misted. She had to blink a few times to clear them. She touched a finger to her lips and realized her fingers were trembling.

  This was ridiculous. She hadn’t thought about that day—hadn’t allowed herself to think about it—for years. Decades. There was no point in remembering. Or dreaming. But her dreams the last few nights had been filled with memories of Una.

  It was this girl, this Meryn, with her boldness, her laughter, her defiance of the rules Henrietta had lived by her entire life, stirring things up in unwelcome ways. She glanced at the clock.

  If it’s so unwelcome, why are you waiting for her to come home?

  Frowning, she reached for her sketchbook, flipping through the pages from Sunday. She’d gotten the views she wanted of the pond, the trees, the house up on its hill—but there were also quick sketches of Meryn: sitting with her guitar in her lap; leaning over to poke a stick into the weeds at the water’s edge; lying nose to nose with a turtle.

  It had only been a few days, but it felt as if things in this house had been turned upside-down, or—what was it Bonnie had said—“she might blow some fresh air into this house.”

  What about Meryn was so different compared to her other companions? Henrietta stared at the sketch and could picture Meryn turning to her, another of her interminable questions on her lips, her dark eyes probing as they met Henrietta’s—the sketchbook slid off her lap, falling to the floor with a flutter of pages.