I’ve looked at the web encyclopedia page on him before, but I didn’t really read it. I was just psyched that he had one. Now I go through the little summary window at the side. It has all the information, like his date and place of birth, alma mater, etc. but there is no field for spouse.
There would be one if anyone knew about me.
I’m a secret.
Why?
My phone rings, startling me.
I look at the screen and see David’s name. I spend a few seconds debating whether I want to talk to him. With all the emotions raging within me, I’ll probably get hysterical if I try to ask him what it all means.
I take a deep breath. “Hello.” I say quietly.
“Sophie.” I try not to get lost in the warmth of his voice, at least not until I understand what’s going on.
“I hope you can go out tonight.” He says, putting a big hole in all the conclusions I’ve drawn.
I’m silent for a few moments, confused. “You want us to go out together?”
There is a short pause at his end. “Yes.” He says finally.
So apparently, I’m not going to be a secret anymore, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s had people sign a document to keep my existence quiet. “Where?” I ask.
“Just dinner.” He says, naming one of the more popular restaurants in the city.
“Oh. Okay.” I still don’t understand any of it, but I decide to wait until he comes home to ask him about the NDA.
When I finally come out of the study, Reiko has already left. I spent a few minutes putting away my sketches, still deep in thought. A few minutes ago, I was convinced that he was keeping our marriage silent because he wants to end it with as little fuss as possible, now I’m not sure of anything. It’s frustrating not to know where you stand with someone who means so much to you.
I should select something to wear from my new wardrobe, but my thoughts are in too much of a mess. I think about calling Stacey to pour out my confusions to her, but I know how worried she’ll get.
Finally, I return to the living room, still deep in thought, and find myself face to face with a stranger.
She is an older woman, in her late fifties or early sixties, tall and slender, with thick wavy black hair and sparkling blue eyes. There’s something vaguely familiar about her straight nose, determined chin and sharp cheekbones. She smiles at me, the expression on her face welcoming and warm, as if we’ve known each other for a long time, and are on the best of terms. I cast a curious glance at Mrs. Daniels, who’s standing by the foyer door, not looking happy at all. I turn back to the woman.
“You must be Sophie.” She declares, still smiling, and immediately I know who she is.
She moves towards me, determined and graceful. I’m not expecting the warm hug she gives me.
“I’m Marianne Weber,” She coos, stepping back to take a good look at me, “David’s mother.”
I’ve already guessed as much, but I still turn to Mrs. Daniel’s for confirmation, which she gives with a small nod, still looking extremely unhappy.
Briefly, I wonder at the misgivings that are so clear on the housekeeper’s face, then I turn back to my guest. “I’m pleased to meet you.” I say politely.
“I didn’t believe it when I heard,” She exclaims. She sounds playful and intimate as she leads me to a couch, “and you are so cute.” She gives me a smile that is so like her son’s. “Won’t you tell me about yourself? How did you meet David?” There’s something about her that instantly invites confidence, or maybe it’s just that I’ve gone through life desperately wanting a mother. I find myself wanting to talk to her. It makes me feel awkward.
“Well...” I notice Mrs. Daniels disappear into the kitchen. This is really odd. It’s obvious that whoever told his mother about me, it wasn’t David. I’m sure he has no idea that she’s here... and yet as she smiles at me, her sparkling eyes urging me to answer her question, I realize that I want to.
“He came into the gift shop where I was working as an assistant,” I say, “he wanted to buy a gift.” I pause, “for you actually.”
She laughs merrily, as if I’ve said something terribly funny, “and then it was love at first sight.” She states.
For me, it probably was, but I still don’t know about David, so I don’t say anything
She wants to know everything about me. As we talk, I try my best not to give away too much, and not to sound evasive either.
“You should go out,” she states finally, “make friends, meet people, and discover the city on your own.” Her voice is earnest. “I’m only here a few weeks every year these days, but whenever I’m in town we could have lunch, get to know each other better.