Something Like This (Secrets) (10 page)

“I’m proud of you.”

He leaned in and kissed me.

His kiss made me feel warm all over, down to the very tips of my toes. I felt so safe with him, like I could let myself fall into his arms and never worry about anything else ever again. I didn’t feel guilty about my homeless father when I was with him. I didn’t feel inadequate or ugly or stupid. I didn’t feel abandoned.

“I love you,” he said. “I meant it.”

“I meant it, too.”

“I want you to meet my mom.”

I panicked. “I’m not ready. I’m nervous.”

“There’s nothing for you to be nervous about. I’ve told her about you. She wants to meet you. I want you to meet her.”

I couldn’t meet his mom. She would see right through me. She’d know I was deceitful, that I was carrying a secret. Moms have a way of detecting deceit.

There was another reason I didn’t want to meet Reece’s mom. I was afraid. My relationship with Reece was so different than all of my other relationships; well, if you could call them relationships. None of the guys I had dated have ever shown any interest in introducing me to their moms or fathers or sisters or brothers—or anyone from their families. The truth was that I had never allowed myself to get too close—I had never allowed anyone to get too close.

I was no different than any other girl who had been hurt or let down by someone in her life, someone who she trusted and loved with all her heart. I was no different than anyone who had ever had their heart shattered.

I kept life at an arm’s distance, too scared to run, jump, and chase after anything or anyone, because if I ever dared to take a risk, I’d end up back at the Popeyes on the day my father walked out of my life.

And here it was. An invitation to meet Reece’s mom, to take a risk, to jump and run. I wasn’t ready. Things were moving too fast. I couldn’t ignore my past, my demons, the crazy thoughts in my head that reminded me I wasn’t worthy of meeting anyone’s mom, that I belonged in the shadows, walking alone, pretending to be a part of the world.

Reece kissed me on the cheek. “So, what’s your answer? Will you come over for dinner tonight?”

“Is she all better?”

Just a few days ago, his mom had had appendicitis.

“She’s not one hundred percent, but she insists on meeting you. I’ve only mentioned you a million times. She’s very stubborn and wants to meet you. She won’t take no for an answer.”

For goodness’ sake, I felt tears coming on. I was going to lose it. Why was I getting so emotional over this? Even I could admit this wasn’t an ordinary reaction.

If I declined his invitation, I’d hurt him. He’d press me for a reason. What would I say? That I was a crazy girl with a dysfunctional past who couldn’t handle real life?

I almost wanted to tell him everything, just get everything out in the open and then let him decide whether or not he still wanted to be with me. Yes, I would tell him the truth. I had to. I wanted our relationship to work. I loved him and I couldn’t keep my past from him; I couldn’t keep my secret from him. I needed to unburden myself.

“I need to tell you something,” I said, my voice trembling.

“What is it?”

“I can’t tell you here.”

“If you don’t want to meet my mom, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

I took his hand. “It’s not about your mom. It’s me. It’s all me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s go outside and I’ll tell you.”

He started to lead me to the elevators. We didn’t speak to each other until we were standing outside of the building.

***

“T
ell me what’s going on,” Reece said.

This was it. The moment of truth had arrived yet again. I had made up my mind. I wouldn’t just tell Reece the truth, I’d show him.

“Will you walk with me?” I asked.

“Okay, but where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Please just walk with me.”

I felt like I was going to faint, like at any moment I was going to stop breathing. I could hardly bring myself to move, but I had to let it all out. I had to show Reece. He had to see what I had been keeping from him. He had to see my father. He had to see my shame, my reason for panicking when he asked me to meet his mother.

We crossed the street. So close now, so close to telling the truth, to confessing everything, and so close to possibly losing Reece.

I spotted my father. Down the sidewalk, a ways away from us, he was sitting against the wall, drinking from a water bottle.

I squeezed Reece’s hand and took a deep breath.

I was determined to go through with it. No turning back.

Letting go of Reece’s hand, I said, “You see that man up ahead, the homeless one?”

“What about him?”

Tears started rolling down my face. I couldn’t stop them from coming. I burst into tears right there. I was sobbing.

Reece threw his arms around me. “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

I pushed him away. “That man, he’s...”

“He’s what? Tell me what’s going on.”

I wiped away my tears and tried to control my breathing. “I’m not a nice person. You need to know what kind of person I am.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just listen to me. I’ve been hiding something from you. I’ve been hiding something from myself because I’m embarrassed and ashamed and afraid and I can’t bear the truth. I love you. I can’t lie to you. I’m not a good person. That man over there,” I took in a breath and slowly exhaled, “he’s my father.”

Reece simply stared at me as if he didn’t believe me.

“He’s my father,” I said, again, tears running down my face and onto my neck.

He kept silent.

“Did you hear what I said?”

He turned away from me.

I had feared losing him if I told him the truth and now here it was, he’d chosen to leave. I wished I was at home in my bedroom where I could close the curtains, hide under my covers, and force myself to sleep. I wished I had never met Reece. He had given me hope, something I had craved, something for which I had so desperately searched. Even in my most somber moments, a little part of me had always yearned for happiness. And now, I was left standing alone, crushed and humiliated.

The only way to save what little pathetic dignity I had left was to walk away, to go back to my desk and watch the clock until it was time to go home.

Before I took a step, Reece turned around. “I don’t think you get it.”

“Get what?”

He came toward me and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“How I feel about you at this moment.”

Oh, God, he hates me. He thinks I’m a disgusting human being, unworthy of anything that is good.

“I love you even more than I did yesterday, even more than I did ten minutes ago. I can’t imagine what you have been going through. I can’t imagine what you go through every day.”

I felt as if though the whole world was watching me and rooting for me. Yes, the world was on my side. It had to be. Reece didn’t hate me. He wasn’t leaving me.

“There’s something else,” I said.

“I’m in love with you. Nothing you say to me will change that.”

“I haven’t done anything to help him. I haven’t talked to him.”

“May I ask why?”

I told him everything. Every last detail about how my father left me when I was twelve years old, how I didn’t see him again until I was sixteen years old, when once again, he had abandoned me.

When I was finished telling Reece about my stupidly pathetic life, he embraced me. “I’m here. I will never leave you, I swear it. We’re going to get through this together. I will do anything you ask of me. I want to help you.”

I melted into his chest. I wasn’t alone. I wouldn’t have to face my fears alone. Reece was going to stand with me. He had come into my life just when I needed someone the most. I tightened my arms around him and whispered, “I love you, Reece Carter.”

“I will never leave you. My heart belongs to you,” he said.

***

T
hat night, I didn’t sleep in my own bed. I spent the night with Reece at his apartment. We didn’t talk about my father. We didn’t talk much at all. We ordered pizza and watched a movie and then went to bed. He held me tight and told me he loved me and I fell asleep in his arms and not once during the night did one bad thought enter my mind.

––––––––

M
orning came and I could hear the clanking of dishes in the kitchen. Still feeling groggy, I sat on the edge of the bed and blew out a weighty breath. I then ran my fingers through my hair and stretched my arms. Traveling slowly, I made my way to the bathroom.

Had I really confessed everything to Reece? Staring in the mirror, I said out loud, “What now? Where do you go from here?”

I had no answers. No plan. No way to escape my reality.

I washed my face, rinsed my mouth, and tied my hair back in a ponytail. Placing my hand on the doorknob, I hesitated opening the door and instead turned around and paced back to the sink. What was I going to do? I couldn’t stay in Reece’s bathroom forever. When I had told him about my father and how I had lacked the courage to talk to him, I hadn’t considered the consequences of my confession. And while Reece hadn’t shunned me, I remained anxious about what was ahead for us, what was ahead for me.

The truth was that I didn’t really know Reece that well, yet I had been compelled to come clean to him. Something about him instilled in me the desire to be honest, the desire to stop running away from my past. It was the way he looked at me, held me...everything he did made me feel protected, made me believe that no matter what the rest of the world thought of me, even if every single person turned away from me, I still had him and he loved and accepted me despite my imperfections.

Yet here I was, hiding in his bathroom—his very clean and shiny bathroom.

I went over to the window and pushed it open. Down below, I could see people rushing about, flagging down cabs and racing across the street, as if they were even one second late to their jobs the apocalypse would commence. I imagined Mr. Walker informing me that zombies were about to take us all down simply because I had disturbed the order of things...simply because I had spent the night with my boyfriend, holed up in his bathroom and as a result, had been late to work. Ah yes, my actions would singlehandedly destroy the Earth.

My eyes closed in on one very specific person. Reece crossed the street and sprinted into a coffee shop called
Magnolia’s Coffee, Tea, and Pastries.
I had been so engrossed in my thoughts I hadn’t heard him leave the apartment.

This was a perfect opportunity to escape. I could just leave him a note, something along the lines of, “Had to go, I’m sorry, late for work. I love you.” Lame, I know.

I was such a coward. I could hardly stand my own presence. I shut the window and exited the bathroom. Quickly, I collected my things and then dug inside my purse for a pen and piece of paper. A torn and worn envelope would have to do. I slowed down enough to write the note, making sure my words were actually legible. It would do me no good to leave him a note he couldn’t make out.

I let the envelope fall on the floor in front of the apartment door. When I was standing in front of the elevators, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Reece.

Once the elevator doors opened, I leaped into the lobby and scanned the area. No sign of Reece. I made for the exit doors and just like that I was free. I loved Reece with all my heart, but I had to go, I didn’t have the nerve to face him after everything I had told him the day before.

It wasn’t because I thought he had changed his mind and was now going to shun me...tell me to get the hell out of his life because he didn’t need baggage of the spineless kind in his life. I was afraid he would try to convince me to talk to my father...to help him, and I was afraid of his reaction if I told him I wasn’t ready...that every time I had decided to go up to him, I had chickened out and ran like a scared little girl on the playground who was about to get jumped by the mean girls who hated her pink scarf because they thought it was too girlie and wimpy....who hated her sparkly jeans because who the hell did she think she was, wearing cuter jeans than them, who hated her dragonfly earrings because she had had the audacity to get her ears pierced before them.

Except my father was not a bully. He was lost, and lost souls had no interest in the living. They made no sudden movements, they didn’t laugh or feel any emotions, they simply glided among the living, waiting for someone to find them, yank them from purgatory, and command them to breathe again. No, my father wasn’t trying to chase me down so he could beat me up and spit on me and make fun of me. Even so, that knowledge hadn’t change my circumstances; it had done nothing to give me the strength I required to let my father find me and pull me back from limbo. Yes, I acknowledged to being somewhat of a misplaced being, myself. And misplaced individuals often made irrational decisions.

Without hesitating, I whizzed down the sidewalk, fixated on the Metro escalators, about half a block away. Holding my breath, I accelerated my pace, fearful that if I dared breathe I’d freeze and have a panic attack. Mami used to have panic attacks all the time, mostly at night. She’d wake me up, telling me she thought she was dying, and that I needed to call 911, otherwise, I’d end up an orphan. I grew up thinking that at any moment, my mother was going to drop dead and I’d be on the streets on my own, because no way I was going to let anyone else parent me. If she died while I was still a kid, my plan was to run away, didn’t matter where I went or what I had to do to get away.

I pushed Mami out of my head and centered on my mission: avoiding Reece. Reaching the Metro’s opening, I flew down the escalator steps. All I had to do now was get on a train and I’d be on my way to....to...to where? Where exactly was I going? I despised both my parents for leaving me, for taking the easy way out. Yes, Mami got sick and she wasn’t to blame for her sickness, but she didn’t even try to get better. She welcomed death, asked it to come in and sit down for a cup of tea. I wanted her to fight the sickness that was destroying her body. I wanted her to slam the door in death’s face and tell it to get the hell out because she wasn’t done with life. But instead, she gave up.