As I sat down at my dressing table in my nightgown, I heard low voices at the front door, and the sound of Frank and Annie departing with Robert. I heard Jesse go into Tim and Mary’s room to check on them as he did every night, and then he came into the bedroom.
I had my back to him, vigorously brushing my hair, taking out my frustration on it. He didn’t say anything. Through the mirror I saw him slip a large stack of money into the top drawer of our bureau.
Suddenly I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Was it a train, Jesse? Or a stage?” My voice sounded choked. I set down my brush, and its silver back rattled against the wood as I did so, for my hands were shaking.
I looked up into the mirror and saw him staring at me, the weak light afforded by the coal-oil lamp on the bureau casting strange shadows over his handsome face. His eyes glinted but the rest of his face seemed to lose all expression. He sighed and put his watch down near the lamp, then began undoing the buttons of his vest as if he hadn’t heard me.
This made my fury grow hotter, and I turned on my stool to face him. “Well?” I snapped. “Which was it?”
He raised his eyes to mine and I saw his jaw clench. Anger flickered in his eyes then, though I could tell he was trying to hold it back, and his posture changed. “Don’t act like you’re surprised, Zee,” he said. “You knew. You’ve always known, from the beginning. Just like Annie knew before she married Frank, you knew before you married me. But you still married me.” He took one of his guns out of its holster and set it on the dresser with a thud. The lamplight caught on the gold ring he wore on his right hand.
My breath came fast then, and tears were welling in my eyes. I sat on my stool and stared at him as he kept talking.
“I always knew it pained you; that’s why I never have said anything, all these years. I thought it would be better if you didn’t know the details. But you knew going in, what I was.” His voice was hard. “Haven’t I been a good husband, Zee? Haven’t I been a good father? I always thought that was enough for you.”
A sob caught in my throat and all of my anger seemed to seep out of me with my tears. I couldn’t deny the truth in his words—I had known. And, knowing, I had chosen to make my life with him, to bear his children, and to keep his secrets. I was just as much at fault as he was. And I knew that I would be lying if I told myself that I had thought I could change him; men like him can’t be changed by anybody but themselves.
