yourself," Hannah muttered.
I examined my reflection in the kitchen window. I was still attractive, my hair as titian as ever (I had recently cut my bangs),
my eyes a sparkling blue, but my perky cheeks had slackened and my eyes were lined with crow's feet. Even though I was still
slim, I must confess that I had noticed that my skirts were fitting me a little tightly around the waist. "Whatever do you
mean?"
"It seems as if you're avoiding your husband. You don't enjoy cooking. Or cleaning. You barely garden."
"Oh, Hannah," I smiled. "That's silly. You're talking about last weekend. I couldn't go to Ned's office party. I had to rescue
Ned Junior from the old well in the backyard."
"But how did he get in the well?"
"I lowered him. We were playing rescue from the old well.' "
Hannah untied her cotton apron and sat down across from me. "There's something I should have told you a long time ago."
My ears perked up and I looked at Hannah with rapt attention.
"I knew your mother."
"You did?" I exclaimed.
"She was my sister."
My head felt light as I motioned for her to continue.
"Yes," she went on. "In addition to being your faithful housekeeper, I am also your aunt. Your father and I thought it best
you never know the truth. We thought it prudent that she be pushed from your mind completely, to spare you a similar fate.
Your father suggested that I work for free as a maid in your home. I agreed. But now I see that we made a terrible mistake.
We should have been honest with you. I was the one who warned Ai Sato that you were coming to Los Angeles. If I hadn't, she
might not have vanished forever, and you might have had your tearful reunion. Then perhaps you would not be smothering your
sweet bastard son while ignoring your household chores and your devoted, hapless husband."
"You know?" I stammered.
"He is the spitting image of Frank Hardy."
I felt a crashing wave of relief flood over me. I had been so consumed with guilt over my deception that I had let my anguish
eat away at my relationship with Ned, unable to qualify my overwhelming love for my son with my affection for my youthful
sweetheart. Was it possible that, in my effort not to repeat my mother's mistakes, I had overcompensated? Then it struck me.
"You're my aunt?"
In the heat of the rippling revelations, I must admit that my detection skills were dulled. In most cases I would have heard
the anxious footsteps quickly approaching the back door. As it was, I was as surprised as Hannah when the back door fairly
flung open and eleven armed men stormed our comfortable home.
They surrounded my housekeeper/aunt, lifted her to her feet, and handcuffed her.
"Mrs. Hannah Gruen," one of them announced sternly, "you're under arrest. For being a Communist spy!"
Willing myself to remain calm, I phoned my father and told him that our housekeeper had just been taken into custody to appear
before the House Committee on Un-American Activities. I did not tell him about Hannah's revelation. Then I phoned Ned at River
Heights Mutual. Within fifteen minutes, both Ned and my father were sitting in our living room, my father still wearing his
judge's robes.
Excitedly, I relayed the shocking events that had taken place during their absence. I cannot say why I chose not to reveal
Hannah's stunning disclosure, except that at the center of my being I feared its volatility. As the keeper of my own astounding
secret, to which Hannah was privy, I knew well the noxious gas that lurked in untruths and I pledged silently to contain it.
Or maybe I was just chicken. "Well," I asked, "what should we do? We just have to prove that Hannah is innocent!"
My distinguished father looked grave. "This is serious business, Nancy," he stated. "I'm not sure that any of us should get
involved until we know what's really going on."
"But Hannah's no Commie!" I pleaded.
Dad shook his head grimly. "She never talked politics in front of you. But she was very
I examined my reflection in the kitchen window. I was still attractive, my hair as titian as ever (I had recently cut my bangs),
my eyes a sparkling blue, but my perky cheeks had slackened and my eyes were lined with crow's feet. Even though I was still
slim, I must confess that I had noticed that my skirts were fitting me a little tightly around the waist. "Whatever do you
mean?"
"It seems as if you're avoiding your husband. You don't enjoy cooking. Or cleaning. You barely garden."
"Oh, Hannah," I smiled. "That's silly. You're talking about last weekend. I couldn't go to Ned's office party. I had to rescue
Ned Junior from the old well in the backyard."
"But how did he get in the well?"
"I lowered him. We were playing rescue from the old well.' "
Hannah untied her cotton apron and sat down across from me. "There's something I should have told you a long time ago."
My ears perked up and I looked at Hannah with rapt attention.
"I knew your mother."
"You did?" I exclaimed.
"She was my sister."
My head felt light as I motioned for her to continue.
"Yes," she went on. "In addition to being your faithful housekeeper, I am also your aunt. Your father and I thought it best
you never know the truth. We thought it prudent that she be pushed from your mind completely, to spare you a similar fate.
Your father suggested that I work for free as a maid in your home. I agreed. But now I see that we made a terrible mistake.
We should have been honest with you. I was the one who warned Ai Sato that you were coming to Los Angeles. If I hadn't, she
might not have vanished forever, and you might have had your tearful reunion. Then perhaps you would not be smothering your
sweet bastard son while ignoring your household chores and your devoted, hapless husband."
"You know?" I stammered.
"He is the spitting image of Frank Hardy."
I felt a crashing wave of relief flood over me. I had been so consumed with guilt over my deception that I had let my anguish
eat away at my relationship with Ned, unable to qualify my overwhelming love for my son with my affection for my youthful
sweetheart. Was it possible that, in my effort not to repeat my mother's mistakes, I had overcompensated? Then it struck me.
"You're my aunt?"
In the heat of the rippling revelations, I must admit that my detection skills were dulled. In most cases I would have heard
the anxious footsteps quickly approaching the back door. As it was, I was as surprised as Hannah when the back door fairly
flung open and eleven armed men stormed our comfortable home.
They surrounded my housekeeper/aunt, lifted her to her feet, and handcuffed her.
"Mrs. Hannah Gruen," one of them announced sternly, "you're under arrest. For being a Communist spy!"
Willing myself to remain calm, I phoned my father and told him that our housekeeper had just been taken into custody to appear
before the House Committee on Un-American Activities. I did not tell him about Hannah's revelation. Then I phoned Ned at River
Heights Mutual. Within fifteen minutes, both Ned and my father were sitting in our living room, my father still wearing his
judge's robes.
Excitedly, I relayed the shocking events that had taken place during their absence. I cannot say why I chose not to reveal
Hannah's stunning disclosure, except that at the center of my being I feared its volatility. As the keeper of my own astounding
secret, to which Hannah was privy, I knew well the noxious gas that lurked in untruths and I pledged silently to contain it.
Or maybe I was just chicken. "Well," I asked, "what should we do? We just have to prove that Hannah is innocent!"
My distinguished father looked grave. "This is serious business, Nancy," he stated. "I'm not sure that any of us should get
involved until we know what's really going on."
"But Hannah's no Commie!" I pleaded.
Dad shook his head grimly. "She never talked politics in front of you. But she was very
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