Keeping Secrets Read Online Free Page A

downtown. He preferred convenience to his office over living farther out in the newer suburbs. On the way he explained that the neighborhood was fairly old but exclusive—merchants and professional people lived there—and so full of German families and traditions that some called it “Sauerkraut Bend.”
    I was excited at the prospect of inspecting the house, though the blinding rain ruined my chance of seeing the neighborhood. As it turned out the realtor’s car flooded out and therefore he failed to meet us with a key. All I could learn was that the house stood on a large lot backing up to the river, at the corner of Beauregard and Washington streets.
    One look at the tall structure convinced me I was going to like it, so I asked Emory, “How soon can we move in?”
    A little hesitantly, he said, “I’m pretty sure they’ll take my offer, but there’s just one thing. I want Nathan to move in with us. He can remodel so that his quarters seem almost completely apart from ours.”
    â€œBut why? I’d rather have total privacy—”
    â€œI travel some, and I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone while I’m away.”
    â€œBut you don’t mind leaving me with another man?”
    â€œNathan’s different. You can trust him implicitly. He’ll do anything you ask. I’ve already made that clear to him.”
    â€œI see … well, I suppose we can give it a try.”
    â€œIt’s important to me,” he said, then changed the subject.
    Emory drove a Cole Six automobile, with wide comfortable seats and armrests that must have made it a special luxury for a man of his build. When I remarked on this as we rode to the wedding, he replied, “I get enough horseback riding in Mexico. When I’m in town I want to ride around in something that keeps the rain off and doesn’t rub blisters.”
    â€œMexico?” I repeated, beset with visions of a barbaric country crawling with bloodthirsty bandits. “Surely you don’t go down there often … do you?”
    â€œOnly three or four times a year at this point. But I’ll explain more about that later.”
    I slumped in my seat. Following a few moments of silence, Emory asked, “Something wrong?”
    â€œYou might have mentioned earlier your travels included Mexico.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Electra. There hasn’t been a lot of time to give you all the details of my life, and remember, I didn’t flinch when you spoke your mind about conditions important to you.”
    â€œYes, but I gave you some forewarning.”
    â€œYou can still back out. We haven’t reached the church yet.”
    I watched him for a while then, as he faced the street ahead, frowning and puffing on a big cigar. How little I knew about the molding of the character and personality of the man sitting next to me. In a way Emory was like an old picture puzzle you find in a forgotten place one rainy day, and though some pieces have been lost, enough remains for you to complete most of the picture, and fill in the empty, oddly shaped contours with your imagination. The missing pieces may turn up someday, but are of no concern at the moment.…
    Nathan was the sole witness to our brief ceremony, and proved the biggest surprise thus far. From the time Emory mentioned his name, I had pictured him as someone about the same age, big and burly, maybe a bit crude and boisterous—a good companion for a single man who led an impetuous, adventurous life, matching Emory drink for drink on lonely nights, and keeping secrets when called upon.
    He proved instead a slight young man—four or five inches shorter than Emory—with closely cropped auburn hair and light brown eyes, big and round, behind spectacles. He peered down the aisle as we entered, ther uttered something to the minister. I didn’t intend to stare at him, yet he was so different from my expectations I