I Still Dream About You: A Novel (40 page)

She was, after all, her father’s daughter, and she liked the business of making money. She was smart, capable, and, having lived as a man and a woman, even more intuitive about people than old Angus Crocker had been. Since taking over, she had more than tripled the company’s assets. In 1932, she foresaw the decline of coal as a fuel source and, unlike the other stubborn coal men, she followed
her gut intuition and sold most of her coal interests and invested the money with oil prospectors in Texas.

Years later, looking back at what her life would have been as Edwina, with all the restrictions and limitations of being female, she came to believe that although it had been a terribly reckless and selfish thing that had been done, in the long run, Lettie was right; it had turned out to be for her own good.

As Edward, the son, she’d had total control of her own life. As Edwina, the daughter, she would have had money, but never control of it; she would have borne the Crocker name, but never the power that went with it. And there had been other advantages. When Edward had spoken, people had listened. When he had championed women’s causes, he had not been dismissed as just another emotional female. When Edward had ordered men about, they had not balked at receiving orders from a woman.

And her life had not been without fun. She and Lettie had laughed over the years, picturing the faces of men: if they had only known a female was running one of the largest companies in the world and had bested most of them at golf, if they had known a female was the president of three all-male clubs, it would have boggled their minds. She knew men’s real opinion of women. She’d heard it firsthand. At the time, even in a deeply racist society, the mostly uneducated black man had been given the right to vote before college-educated women, black or white. If she could do more as Edward to help the cause, then as Lettie said, it was a small price to pay.

But as the years passed, the strain of living a double life began to take its toll. And in 1939, while in London, Edwina suddenly became more tired than usual. Insisting that she needed a complete rest, Lettie took her to her family home in northern Scotland to be attended to by Lettie’s physician brother.

But after an examination, the news was not good. Edwina had an advanced case of leukemia and was dying. Devastated, Lettie never left her side for a moment. A few weeks later, Edwina Crocker died in Lettie’s arms, the same arms that had been the first to hold her at her birth.

With her beloved Edwina gone, Lettie now had to solve the problem of informing the world about what had happened to Edward. People in Birmingham would soon begin to wonder where he was.

The next morning, she sent a wire. Soon after it arrived, the
Birmingham News
carried this headline in bold letters across the front page:

Everyone in Birmingham sat waiting for news; when it came over the Teletype, it was rushed into print and broadcast on the radio.

A week later, over a thousand people came to a memorial service for a man who had never existed. Edward Crocker, the person they had known as the rich, powerful industrialist, had died quietly in an obscure little village in northern Scotland as Edwina. But before Edwina had died, she had made one last request. She wanted to be taken home and buried at Crestview. Lettie had promised her that it would be done, but in 1939, war was brewing in Europe and travel was difficult, so the trip home would have to wait. In the interim, Edwina’s body was buried in a small country cemetery outside the village in an unmarked grave until it was safe to sail again.

S
EVEN LONG YEARS LATER, WITH THE WAR IN EUROPE FINALLY OVER
, Lettie began her plans to bring her beloved Edwina home to Crestview, but under the circumstances, it would be hard to do. They couldn’t send the body out of the country through official channels; too many questions would be asked. Edwina Crocker had no record of birth. Although Edward Crocker had a birth certificate, they couldn’t risk having the body examined by the trained eye of a government official or a coroner. How could they explain the remains of a woman traveling with a male birth certificate? But Lettie was determined to get the body home and to keep the secret of Edward and Edwina. She had made a vow to Edwina to take her home to Crestview, and she was honor-bound to keep it.

With the help of her brother, the body was exhumed and taken to a family friend who was an undertaker, and the remains were prepared for the long journey home. The skeleton was cleaned, then dressed in the formal Sperry family kilt and hung in one of two steamer trunks containing the twins’ clothes. Lettie had wanted to sail with the trunks, but her brother, although he was indebted to Lettie for his education, was too frightened to travel on the same ship, in case there was trouble. And so, on his advice, the trunks were shipped ahead. When word came that the two trunks had arrived
safely, he and Lettie would follow on the next ship and arrange a private burial at Crestview.

Edward had left Crestview to his business partner, George Dalton. Lettie knew Mrs. Dalton very well. She was a delightful lady who had served as Edward’s hostess on many occasions and was one of Edward’s favorite lady friends, and she had adored him as well. They had spent many cheerful hours together planning parties. Lettie knew Mrs. Dalton could be trusted to do anything Edward wanted done, and a wire was sent to her at Crestview.

When the trunks arrived, Mrs. Dalton immediately had them taken upstairs and locked in the attic. Her children were incurably curious, and she didn’t want them to break open the locks and rummage through Edward’s things.

It was a simple plan. After she and her brother arrived in Birmingham, she would explain to Mrs. Dalton that Edward wanted certain personal items to be buried at Crestview. She knew Mrs. Dalton would understand and would respect his final wishes. Then they would make arrangements to have both unopened trunks buried in the shady gardens below the house, and afterward, she could go back to Scotland and die happy, her life’s work done.

Once Lettie received word that the trunks had arrived safely and intact, she and her brother booked passage to America. A week later, Lettie, now almost eighty, was preparing for the upcoming trip when she had a stroke. She was never able to make it to Birmingham and died a couple of years later, in 1949.

Until November 5, 2008, when Brenda banged the door open, the body had been locked up in the attic and forgotten.

S
OMETIME AFTER MAGGIE REALIZED SHE WANTED TO LIVE, SHE
began to reexamine her life and try to figure out why she had become so unhappy. Then one day, it occurred to her that although she had never purposely lied to anyone, she had been living a lie for years. Brenda thought Maggie was so good and virtuous, but she deserved to know the truth. She hoped it wouldn’t affect their friendship, but it was a chance she had to take.

She picked up the phone and called Brenda and invited her to lunch out at the old Irondale Cafe. She wanted Brenda full of good food before she told her. Brenda did not let her down. She had the chicken livers and the macaroni and cheese and lemon icebox pie. As Maggie was driving them back home, she gathered her courage, took a deep breath, and said, “Brenda, there’s something I think you should know about me … something I’ve never told you before. Something you might find quite shocking.”

Brenda said, “I doubt it.”

“Well … you might.”

“Oh, right. What are you going to tell me? That you’re really the midnight bandit who’s been robbing all the 7-Eleven stores?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that, but it’s something I’m not very proud of.”

“What?”

Maggie took another deep breath. “Well, the man I was involved with in Dallas that I told you about … Richard?”

“Yes? What about him?”

“He was married.”

“And?”

“That’s it. He was a married man. I had an affair with a married man.”

“Oh.”

“The reason I didn’t tell you before is that I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“I see.”

“Oh, Brenda, I’m sorry.” Maggie looked at her with concern. “Are you just terribly shocked?”

“Well, yes. I am shocked, but not disappointed.”

“Really? You’re not?”

“No. We all make mistakes; we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me just to make me feel better?”

“Of course not.”

Brenda was unusually quiet as they drove along, and Maggie began to wonder if she had made the wrong decision by telling her. They drove along for quite some time, Maggie getting more anxious by the minute, until Brenda said, “Maggie, do you remember the college professor I told you I had the affair with?”

“The one who broke your heart when you were a senior?”

“Yes … well, there’s a little something I never told you about, either. Or anybody else for that matter … not even Robbie or Tonya.”

“What?”

There was a long pause. Brenda said, “She was married, too.”

“Ahhh … no wonder it was so—” Maggie suddenly stopped when she realized what she had just heard and looked at Brenda.

“
She?
”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, Brenda … really?”

“Oh, yes, honey; married, white, and Jewish. What can I say? So
you see, you’re not alone. Everybody has their little secrets.” She looked over at Maggie. “Are you surprised?”

“Well, yes … I guess I am.”

“Are you disappointed? You look funny.”

“Oh, no … I’m not disappointed. How could I be? I just feel … oh, I don’t know, flattered that you trust me enough to tell me.”

Now Brenda was relieved. “Whew, I’m glad that’s over. I’m a nervous wreck. I’m all sweaty,” she said as she grabbed an emergency Hershey bar out of her purse and took a bite. When she finished, she looked over at Maggie and said, “Well, then … now that both our cats are out of the bag, like the song says, ‘ ’Tain’t nobody’s business but our own,’ right?”

“Right.”

“Life is hard enough. I say everybody deserves at least one little secret, don’t you think?”

“I do.” A few minutes later, Maggie said, “Brenda, let me ask you something. Do you think I’m too old to learn to parallel park?”

“No, I do not. I think you can do anything you set your mind to.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, Brenda … you don’t know how happy I feel—like a hundred-pound weight has been lifted off my chest.”

“Me, too.”

“I feel so much closer to you now … do you?”

“Oh, yes.”

They both smiled all the way home. It was so good to have a best friend.