Catherine looks into the shaving mirror that is in Herb’s drawer. He hadn’t used it for years.
“Leave this drawer alone.” He said. “These are my things.”
His tone is not to be argued with, but she had not dreamt his gruffness was about a secret. Beneath a couple of cuff-link boxes and his passport is a bundle of letters.
She stops. It’s Pandora’s box. A secret lover, a second set of children, a relative whose favor he tried to cultivate, his birth mother, all reasons for a secret correspondence.
The face in the shaving mirror is no one Catherine knows.