Something Like This (Secrets) (19 page)

I was in no freaking mood.

“Okay, okay, sorry, I over stepped. No need for threats of the perfume kind.”

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone you saw me in here.”

She crossed her fingers. “I promise.”

“Thanks,” I said and flew out the door.

I had five minutes to sneak into the first-floor bathroom, change, and get to my desk. I was risking being seen and if I had actually used my brain, I would have changed in the store and walked out, ready to go. But in my haste, I wasn’t thinking and made a stupid decision.

When I entered the building lobby, I searched for anyone from my office. I didn’t see anyone so I speedily made for the bathroom. In a flash, my new size eight skirt, blouse, and I joined the other office workers at the elevators. My size six skirt was tucked in my purse, awaiting a day when I didn’t feel so bloated. With my period only a few days away, a size six wasn’t going to cut it.

At exactly 8:29, my butt hit my desk chair.
Phew
, I was pretty sure I had beat Mr. Walker and Tom.

Two minutes later, in came Tom.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning.”

He scraped his neck with his fingers. “Did you talk to Grace?”

“No.”

More scratching of the neck. “Oh, I thought Mr. Walker wanted you to help her finish her novel?”

“She was just in here yesterday. What did you think was going to happen? Did you think we were going to stay up all night working on her novel, and that I’d be delivering a complete and shiny manuscript to you today?”

“It’s really hard to talk to you. You’re a very restless person.”

“What? And what’s wrong with your neck? You’re going at it like you have chicken pox.”

“You’re not easy. You’re always on guard. I simply asked you a question. I wasn’t trying to start a war with you.”

I let out a big sigh. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I got defensive. I have a lot on my mind and I guess...”

“You took it out on me.”

“Yeah, looks that way.”

“I have shit I’m dealing with, too. And maybe I come on too strong. But I’m not an asshole. And I don’t know what’s wrong with my neck. It just itches, that okay with you?”

“I never said you were an asshole. I only called you a jerk.”

He grinned. “Grace has serious talent. I’m really excited about working with her.”

“And you want my help to make sure she finishes the manuscript?”

“I’m taking a risk with her. We’re all taking a risk. So many writers don’t finish, and she’s good, really good.”

“I get it. I’ll do what I can, but I didn’t sign up to babysit her. I’ll encourage her, but it’s up to her.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

“So, what happened after you walked her out yesterday?”

“She said she would have the manuscript ready in a couple of weeks.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I have to believe her.”

“I’ll call her in a few minutes.”

Rubbing his neck, he said, “Thanks.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what you did at your other agency?” I asked, remembering what Celeste had told me earlier.

I had gone from a truth hider to a truth seeker.

“I was hoping you had forgotten about that.”

“Nope. Secrets can’t stay hidden forever.”

“I live with that knowledge every day.”

“Oh, and get some aloe for your neck.”

Scratching his neck, he said, “Okay, maybe.”

***

M
r. Walker sauntered in a few minutes later. He plunked his worn suitcase on my desk. “How’s Reece?”

Holy hell, why was he asking me about Reece?

I licked my front teeth. “He’s good.”

Gliding his hand across his brow, he said, “I mean how is he,
really
? Mary told me about last night.”

Crash, boom
, worlds colliding, yet again. It was almost as if I lived in a small town where everyone knew every detail about everyone. Oh, and also the town was cursed.

“He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“He’s a stubborn kid, like his mom,” he pulled his lower lip. “He’s my nephew and I love him. He’s been through a lot. Maybe you can help him? Maybe he can help
you
.”

“I’m okay.”

Heels clicked along in the hallway.

“That sound drives me crazy. We need to put down carpeting, or ban heels altogether.”

I peeked at my feet. Yep, they were still there, loud and pointy heels.

“I’m teasing, I won’t ban heels.” He picked up his briefcase. “I’m sorry I butted in. I’ll try to stay out of it. It’s just that Mary, she’s worried and she’s my kid sister,” he paused, “And, well, she’s been through hell lately.”

“I understand.”

“When you talk to Reece, remind him I want to talk to him about his manuscript. He still hasn’t called me.”

“Are you going to rep him?”

I may have overstepped.

“Just tell him to call me, will you?”

“Got it, sure thing.”

“Appreciate it,” he said, and went into his office.

Seconds later, he reappeared. “I forgot to tell you, I’m going to be gone most of the afternoon.”

“There’s nothing on your calendar,” I said.

He crossed his arms. “I have some personal things to take care of.”

“Okay, understood.”

“Thank you,” he said walking back into his office.

I wondered what Mr. Walker was up to. Whatever it was, he didn’t want me to know, nor did he want it on his calendar.

I picked up the phone and called Grace.

“Hey, what’s up?” she said.

“I’m calling to see how you’re doing with the manuscript.”

“Oh, God, are you in charge of babysitting me?”

“Sort of, kind of.”

“I’m at home. I called in sick so I could write.”

“And?”

“Two thousand words so far.”

“That’s great.”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s crap. I’m probably going to have to trash it all.”

More loud heels in the hallway. Maybe Mr. Walker was right about banning them.

“At least you’re writing.”

“I guess. Hey, so you and Reece okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Lisa wants you to bring him over for dinner. She’ll cook, of course.”

“Did she say when?”

“Tonight or tomorrow. She said she texted you, but seeing as you never answer us anymore, she wanted me to pass along the message if I talked to you.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to let Lisa and Grace in on what was happening with me. We were becoming closer, very damn near friends, and I wanted to build our relationships on light, not darkness. Telling them about my father would strip any chance at friendship we had. If I told them and they turned from me...it would hurt a lot. I’d never really had friends, not real friends anyway, the kind who asked you about your life, who gave a damn, who cheered you up with ice cream and girlie movies. No, the kind of friends I’d had couldn’t have cared less if I had picked up and moved to another country without notice.

“I got her texts. I’ll text her back.”

“Have you seen Tom?” she asked.

“Yeah, why do you think I’m calling you?”

“He’s hot.”

“Grace?”

“Jadie?”

“Keep it professional, okay?”

“It might be too late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Nope.”

“We went out to dinner last night.”

“And? You’re scaring me. What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m not a slut, you know.”

I sighed in relief.

“We had a great time. He’s a really nice guy. I think he likes me.”

“He likes your writing.”

“Yeah, but I think he also likes me. I can tell. It’s the way he was looking at me. He wanted me.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Tell him I said hi, if you see him. Tell him I’m hard at work. Oh, and text Lisa back.”

“Roger that.”

“See you at home tonight? Or are you moving in with Reece?”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, you spend more time with him these days than you do with us.”

“I’ll be home tonight.”

“Bring him with you.”

“We’ll see.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

––––––––

I
t was a little past noon and my stomach growled, it didn’t care who heard it. I hadn’t eaten anything yet and I was beginning to get lightheaded.

Reece had texted me a couple of times to tell me he missed me and loved me and couldn’t wait to see me.

He and I were quite the pair. A challenging journey ahead of us, we accepted it. I was finally beginning to figure out my life. I was finally tackling...no, slaying my demons. And Reece was going to need my help slaying his. I was up for it.

When I was seven years old, Mami took me to visit Aunt Conchita in El Salvador. My father didn’t go because Mami said we could only afford two plane tickets and she thought it was important that I meet some of her family members whom she had left behind when she came to the States.

Most of my memories from that trip were distant and fading, but there was one that always remained with me.

Aunt Conchita put me on the handle bars of her bike and off we rode to the fair. She asked me if I wanted to get on the Ferris wheel. I had never been on one before and its height scared me. As we walked through the line she kept on saying, “You’re going to love it. You can see the whole town.”

My knees wobbled; I held her hand tight and didn’t confess my utter fear. No one else around me seemed afraid. All of the other kids in line beamed with excitement. “We’re almost to the front of the line. I can’t wait to get on. You can see the whole town, the whole town!” they screamed, cotton candy and chocolate bars in their hands.

The sun had set minutes earlier, which only helped to raise my anxiety. It was one thing to get on the Ferris wheel during the day, a whole other to get on at night. The night had always made me feel uneasy. I never trusted it. Mami was convinced that the devil himself concocted darkness so that he could hide his crimes and bury his secrets deep within the earth.

“Daylight only reveals what’s on the surface. If you want to see the truth, wait until darkness falls. That’s when humanity removes its mask, steps in front of the mirror, and shows its true self,” Mami would say.

I looked at the many faces surrounding me and wondered which ones would remove their masks and unveil their truths.

When we got to the front of the line, I froze, tears gushing. “No,
por favor,
please, don’t make me get on. I’m scared.”

Aunt Conchita gave me a hug. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, but make sure you’re making that decision for the right reasons. Don’t ever choose not to do something simply because you’re afraid.
En la vida
there are going to be things that are going to scare you. Hold your head high and walk on, no matter how scared you are.
Mata tus demonios,
kill your demons, the first moment you can.”

I was more than afraid to get on that ride. I almost peed my pants, but I got on anyway, and Conchita was right, you could see the entire town from the highest point of the wheel. And the town was lit up and it was breathtaking. When the ride ended, I asked my aunt if we could get on again.

She nodded. “Remember, your fear may never go away. The key is to not let it stop you from living.”

Quietly, I stood from my chair, grabbed my purse and headed to the elevators. I didn’t know what jarred that memory, but it was exactly what I needed to remember at that precise moment.

Once outside, I didn’t run, nor walk at a fast pace. I simply strolled. And I was afraid. Yet I walked on until I reached him.

He was lying on the sidewalk, his eyes closed. I sat next to him and touched his head.

“Papi, wake up. It’s Jadie. Wake up.”

He lifted his head.

“Jadie, why are you here?”

“Papi, I need answers. I’m not demanding them from you. I’m not going to yell at you. I’m not going to try and save you. But I’m also not going to forget about you. And I’m not going to let you forget about me. We found each other, and that means something.”

Sitting up, he said, “I’m glad you’re here. I haven’t moved from this spot because I wanted you to come back. I was hoping you would come back. What do you want to know?”

A guy on a bike sped by, nearly hitting a woman and her child.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to ride on the sidewalk!” she yelled.

The biker offered his middle finger in response.

She increased her pace, dragging her child behind her and went up to a cop car which was parked in front of one of the Federal government buildings.

“That same biker comes by here every day. People always yell at him, and he always responds the same way,” my father said.

What other things did my father see? He spent his days watching people. How many secrets was he keeping for strangers?

“What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“First, I want you to know how afraid I am of being here, of finding out the truth. I’m scared to get on the Ferris wheel. But, I’m here, I’m getting on.”

His eyes watered. “I’m scared, too.”

“No tears, Papi. We’ve already cried enough. Tell me the truth. Tell me why you left.”

He coughed. “Do you remember the night I beat on our door until the cops came?”

I was eleven years old and Mami had hidden me under the bed.

Coughing again, he said, “That was the night she found out about what I had been trying to keep from her—the night she found out about my other daughter. She had only just been born. And your mother had suspected I was hiding something from her for a very long time. She had accused me of cheating and I’d denied it. I was a coward.”

His words paralyzed me, rendering me unable to think, or digest what I had heard. But I remained on the Ferris wheel and imagined I could see the entire city. As long as I stayed on it, I would be able to listen to the truth.

“But she was right. I no longer loved your mother. And I’m not sure she ever truly loved me. What I did was wrong. I accept it. On the night my other daughter, your sister, was born, your mother followed me to the hospital. She confronted me and I could no longer hide my secret. She threatened to take you away—to El Salvador. And I lost it. You were my baby girl and there was no way I was going to let anyone take you away from me. Your mother’s pride was hurt. I didn’t blame her.”