Chapter 10 - A Purse That Never Leaves Her Arm
The next morning started in the entry, with that cold daylight coming in around the front door. Selene was getting ready to step out to her car, just to the driveway, not even off the property. She had her black heels on, her satin gown traded for a dark coat, and the little light metallic clutch tucked hard under her arm.
I stood by the bench with Lily's shoes in my hand. Mr. Balanki wasn't down yet. The house was quiet except for the tick of the big clock.
Selene checked her coat pocket, then stopped. She looked down at the clutch like she'd forgotten something, then pulled it tighter against her side. It would have been easier to leave it on the table for a two-minute trip. She didn't.
"I'll be right back," she said, more to herself than to me. She took it with her out the door, zipped shut.
Lily was sitting on the bottom stair, swinging her white socks. She watched the door close. I knelt and worked her shoe on, trying to keep my hands steady.
A few minutes later Selene came back in with an envelope from her car. The clutch never left her. She carried both in, set the envelope down on the entry table, but kept the clutch in her left hand while she flipped through the mail with her right. Her shoulders stayed up until that little purse was back under her arm. Only then did she breathe normal again.
I noticed it because I was trying not to. I kept dusting the same rail and telling myself to look away.
Later I was in the living room, folding throw blankets while Selene took a call by the windows. The curtains were half open and the light hit the diamond drops at her ears. She had the clutch on her shoulder, strap twisted so the body of it sat right against her ribs.
She laughed once for whoever was on the phone, then went quiet. She turned her back to me, just a half turn, and slid the zipper open an inch. I heard the small metal sound. She tipped the clutch toward herself, eyes down, quick. Not showing anyone. Just checking.
Her hand went in, pressed something flat, then came out. She zipped it shut again and patted the outside once. Her jaw loosened. It was the first time that morning she looked comfortable.
I bent over the basket so she wouldn't catch me watching. My face felt hot. It isn't my business to stare at another woman's purse. But after last night, after what Lily said about the locked room, I couldn't unsee the way Selene held onto it.
Around noon Selene moved from the living room to the kitchen for water. It was maybe twenty steps. She took the clutch off the chair arm where she'd set it for half a second and looped it back over her wrist before she walked. In the kitchen she didn't set it on the counter like most people would. She kept it on her arm while she opened the cabinet with her free hand and filled a glass.
She drank, rinsed the glass, put it upside down on the towel. The whole time that little purse bumped against her forearm. When she headed for the staircase, she switched it to her hand and gripped it tight going up.
Lily and I were coming down the hall with laundry, and we had to step aside on the landing to let her pass. Selene looked right through us. Upstairs, I heard a door open and close.
Lily tugged my apron. "Mom," she whispered, "why is the lady mad?"
My chest pulled. She was still in her pink dress from last night because she hadn't wanted to change out of it, said it was her brave dress. Her curls were mashed on one side from sleep.
I set the basket down and crouched to her level, where the blue light from the stair window fell across us. "She's not mad at you, baby," I said. "Grown-ups get worried sometimes and their faces look stern."
"Did I be bad at the table?" she asked.
"No," I said. I tucked her hair back. "You asked polite. Mr. Balanki gave you that chair because he wanted you to have it. You did good."
She nodded, but her eyes stayed big. "I don't like when she looks at me."
"I know," I said. "You stay with me today, okay? We'll do our work together."
I didn't say anything about the purse. She was five. She didn't need to carry that.
That afternoon Selene came back downstairs changed for an outing, hair smoothed, necklace catching the light. She asked me to bring her coat from the closet. When I held it out, she slipped one arm in, then stopped to transfer the clutch from hand to hand so it was never floating. She zipped it twice to be sure, even though it was already closed.
For a second she set her phone down on the entry table and walked three feet to the mirror. The clutch went with her. She didn't leave it by the phone.
I stood there thinking how easy it would be to look. When she went to the powder room off the entry, she took it inside and hung it on the little hook on the door where she could see it. The door didn't latch all the way. I walked past with towels and saw the strap hanging there, the metal catching the light.
My hands shook. Part of me wanted to slip in, unzip it, know for sure and end this sick feeling. It would take five seconds. No one would know.
I kept walking. I folded towels in the laundry room and counted my breaths until the urge passed. I wasn't going to steal a look inside another woman's things. Not for curiosity, not even to protect Lily. If there was a card in there, I wasn't going to be the one who took it or touched it. I had my job and my daughter to think about, and I wouldn't lose both over something I couldn't put back right.
When Selene came out, the clutch was back under her arm, zipped, safe. She saw me in the hall and paused.
"Is Lily with you?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. "She's in the kitchen coloring."
May you like
"Keep her out of the way," she said, and left for the garage with that purse pressed to her side like it was part of her body.
I went to the kitchen and sat with Lily while she colored. I still hadn't seen any card. But I knew one thing now from watching all day. Whatever was in that little clutch, Selene wasn't willing to let it out of her sight.
