The Secret

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The Secret

Nancy McAuley

September 2, 2022

The Secret

Memaw insisted that we celebrate her birthday at the farmhouse, where she and Pops had lived for fifty-two years of their marriage. Memaw had lived there her entire life. She received the house as a wedding gift from her parents, who moved to a smaller home.

Mom wanted to celebrate at our house. She said it would be much easier than carrying the food, cake, and gifts to the farm.

Uncle Don would be there also. He wanted to celebrate at his country club, but Memaw got her way—always.

The most exciting thing about this year’s party is Memaw promised to tell us a secret. Even Pops doesn’t know what it might be.

My name is Eddie, short for Edwina. I hate my name. I’m ten years old and wish my name was Olivia, which rolls off the tongue easily, in a dramatic way. Eddie sounds like a boy’s name, and Edwina reminds me of a wicked witch.

Anyway, I was looking forward to Mom’s excellent lasagna and the birthday cake. Memaw asked for the exact cake every year. Mom said it was a pain in the neck to make, and she would only make it for her mother once a year. It is called Italian Cream Cake, a three-layer cake that uses five eggs, separated. This year I helped her separate the eggs. I was ten on my birthday, and I helped Mom cook.

“They better have that air-conditioner turned down this year,” Dad said to Mom.

“Anthony, It’s only one day and Mom’s 75^th birthday. Wear your sleeveless shirt.”

Mom and Dad talk like that all the time, but Mom says they never disagree with one another.

Dad drove and took the curves too fast. Mom complained. “I’m trying to juggle this cake so it doesn’t get messed up. Could you take the curves a little slower?”

“Yes, ma’am, Dad answered sarcastically.

“What do you think the big secret is?” Mom asked.

“Crystal, I don’t care. Maybe she was in jail before you and Don were born.”

“I hope not,” Mom said seriously. Dad and I laughed.

We turned into the gravel driveway, another thing Dad hated, and I opened my door and started toward the house.

“Eddie, get back here and help us carry things.” Mom handed me the salad, my least favorite part of the meal.

As we approached the house, the door flew open, and Memaw sauntered down the path to the driveway. She looked great in her stylish jeans and sparkly t-shirt.

“Happy Birthday, we called.

“Thank you.”  I ran to her. “Remember not to knock me over.”

“Okay, Memaw.” I hugged her gently.

Dad and Mom hurried past us, and Pops, standing at the door, let them in.

We went straight to the kitchen, where Mom shooed Memaw away. I started to follow her. We always had so much fun together. She thought I was perfect, unlike Mom and Dad.

“Eddie, I need your help.”

“Okay, Mom,” I went back to the kitchen and waited for my assignment.

Uncle Don arrived. I looked out the window to see his newest set of wheels. He always drove cool cars, which Dad said was a waste of money. Don was single. No kids. He was a psychiatrist and made lots of money. Like always, Don brought champagne, wine, and a few more liquor bottles. He always had the ingredients to make a Shirly Temple for me. I don’t know why Don brought so much. He always toted most of it back home.

“Crystal, he said quietly, do you have any ideas about the big secret?”

“No, I’m worried. What if Mom wants to give us the farm?

Uncle Don’s face turned red. “Oh no, it’s like a white elephant.”

“I want to live here,” I said. They turned to me, shocked. I think they forgot I was in the kitchen.

Mom gave me a list of tasks while she sipped some red wine. My Shirley Temple was on the countertop.

I followed her orders, putting flowers in the middle of the table, adding the flatware, the basket of garlic bread, and the salad. Mom took the hot pasta from the oven and placed it on a trivet near Memaw and Pop’s chairs.

“Call everyone for dinner,” Mom said.

“Dinner’s ready,” I yelled.

“Can’t we wait ‘til halftime?” I know it’s only preseason, but…, “Dad said.

“I don’t think so. You can ask Mom if you want.”

Memaw had been seated at least five minutes by the time the three men occupied their seats.

Pops said the blessing for the food. Mom served the plates, and we ate like we had never seen food before.

“Okay, Susan,” Pops said. “Tell us the big secret.”

‘It’s not time yet.”

“When will it be time?”

“After dinner and before cake.”

“There goes the game,” Dad whispered to Pops and Uncle Don, who nodded.

We ate. I brought the dishes to the countertop, and Mom loaded the dishwasher, following Memaw’s directions.

It was time for the reveal of the secret, and Memaw led all of us to the back screened-in porch, where a ceiling fan, and a box fan, worked hard to keep it cool but were losing the fight.

“Ready?”

“Hurry up, Susan, we don’t have all day, Pops replied.

“I was abducted by aliens a few weeks ago.”

“When was that,” Pops asked. “Where was I.”

I was excited to hear all about it when Memaw started laughing. “Silly gooses, I wasn’t abducted by aliens.”

“You’re taking up our valuable time by joking around,” Pops said.

“Okay, this is the real secret. There is a treasure buried in the backyard.”

“You never told me about this,” Pops said.

Shaking her head, Memaw said, “It was buried before I knew you.”

Mom interrupted their exchanges and asked, “Are we supposed to dig for it? Where is it?

“I remember it was by the old stone fireplace, which fell long ago. I’m not sure.”

“Don’t go digging up the whole yard,” Pops said.

“Was it in a metal container?” Dan asked.

“Yes, it was like a real treasure chest,” Memaw said. “I asked for it for my twelfth birthday.”

“I’ll run home and get my metal detector,” Dad said, jumping to his feet.

Don stood up also, “I’ll make sure there is plenty of room to get by my car.”

“Thanks. I hate it when I damage a half-million-dollar Ferrari.”

Dad was back within 40 minutes, and Mom accused him of speeding.

The men went into the backyard. I wanted to go with them, but Memaw wanted me to wait on the porch with her and Mom. We watched as Dad and Don started digging under Pops’ supervision. It took them much longer to get the treasure out of the ground than it did to locate it.

Finally, the men came into the porch, Don carried the chest, and they all dripped with sweat. Mom had made a pitcher of ice water for them, and they greedily filled the glasses. Meanwhile, Memaw was trying to insert the key into the lock.

“Want me to help?” Mom asked. “It might be a little rusty. Do you have any WD40 or something like that?”

Pops handed it to her immediately. He had already retrieved the small container.

“There we go, as Mom turned the lock.”

Memaw opened the chest slowly. “Bunny, I have missed you so much.” She pulled out a gray rabbit with pink-lined floppy ears. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Wow,” Mom said, “I’m shocked it’s so well preserved.”

Next, Memaw brought out a Big Chief’s tablet. “My stories and poems.”

The last item out of the chest was a box with a doll. “My first Barbie. You can have this, Eddie.”

Before I could tear into the plastic, Don grabbed the package. “Mom, what year did you receive this Barbie?

“1959," she answered proudly. The first one ever made.”

He pulled out his cell phone. Mom and Dad followed suit. Dad was the first one to speak. “That doll is worth more than $25,000. Are you sure you want Eddie to have it?

“Of course, Dear. She can sell it or play with it.”

“We’ll sell it and put the proceeds in her education fund.”

“I think that’s her choice,” Memaw said.

Don stood up and started toward the door. “No one ever thinks about giving me anything,” he said. They think I have everything, but I have nothing! No one to spend my life with, no kids to love me, and parents who always put my sister first!

Everyone stared at Uncle Don, speechless. Memaw stammered, “I-I always loved you kids the same.” she managed to say.

I walked to Uncle Don and handed the Barbie to him. “I love you, Uncle Don.”

He picked me up, all seventy-four pounds of me. I love you too, Winnie.” He kissed me on the cheek.

I forgot he sometimes called me Winnie.

“I love the name Winnie; I want to be Winnie forever. Thank you, Uncle Don.”

“And thank you, Winnie, for loving me.”

He handed the doll back to me. “It’s not always about money,” he said as he stepped out the front door.