Something Like This (Secrets) (2 page)

My previous job had been as a nanny, and although the kids  were great, their father—and yes I admitted to the cliché—had pulled me close to him one night after I had put the kids to bed and his wife had announced that she was exhausted and turning in herself.

Sitting in his recliner in the family room, a glass of red wine on the table next to him, he didn’t hesitate to reach for my body when I handed him the TV clicker. Stupid clicker found a way to hide itself in the most random places, which almost always ended with me performing an exhaustive search of the family room. I was convinced the kids would hide it from me. Harmless pranks, nothing more. Except that on that particular night, I had grabbed the clicker and kept it with me. And so it was that Mr. Jacobson, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome, Mr. Very Successful and Powerful asked me if I knew where the clicker was. And just like that, not a minute later, my life changed again. I brought it to him and he responded by putting his arm around my waist.

“Want to watch a movie with me?” he asked with a wink.

My back stiffened. “Thank you, no, I’m going to call it a night.” I yawned.

He removed his arm. “Perhaps tomorrow night, then?”

“Perhaps.”

The next morning, I was gone.

I stayed with my aunt Conchita, Mami’s sister, who was visiting from El Salvador. This was the second time she had come to the States. The first time was when Mami got sick. She only stayed a few days because Mami made her leave. She didn’t want her sister to watch her waste away.

For years, my aunt had saved nearly every penny she had made waitressing at a restaurant in one of El Salvador’s fanciest beach resorts and after Mami died, she promised me she would come back and stay for a few months. And she kept her promise.

The day I met her at Reagan National Airport, she said, “I rented an apartment for three months. Come stay with me, if you want. We can tour the city together.”

I was ecstatic. I wasn’t alone anymore. I had family. But, even so, standing in the baggage claim area, as she kept her eyes on the conveyer belt, I declined her invitation because I had landed what I had thought was a perfect nanny job, one with good pay and room and board.

So when Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome put his arm around my waist and ruined my not-so- perfect-after-all job, I packed up my stuff and showed up on Aunt Conchita’s doorstep.

“There you are,” she had said, after opening her apartment door.

“Can I stay with you?” I held up my small suitcase.

“I’m leaving in three months. What will you do after that?”

“I have some money saved. I’ll find another job.”

“And if you can’t find a job?”

“I will. I don’t have a choice.”

“Good. Then come on in.”

And three months later, I was walking down the sidewalk, big smile on my face, on my way to the first day of my new life. An office job, like Mami always wanted me to have. Not taking care of other people’s children, cleaning toilets, walking dogs, or waiting for my turn at the unemployment office. I had what she’d consider a respectable job, one that could lead to bigger and better things for me. After all, I had spent two years studying history at a community college and that qualified me for an office job.

You see me down here, Mami? I’m still giving it my all. I’m still here. I miss you.
My poor mami. Misguided, complicated, hurtful, yet beautiful; she never stopped trying to succeed...to escape her past...to instill in me a passion for life.

I walked past him, didn’t pay much attention to him. He was just another homeless person in DC. We had our share of them. It was July and it was supposed to be a really hot day. We were all supposed to limit our time outdoors and, of course, drink plenty of water. I had brought with me a bottle of water. Funny, but I’m almost convinced Mami made me do it.

I turned around and went back to the homeless man. He was lying on a blanket, his face toward the concrete wall. I couldn’t tell if he was asleep.

I took the bottle from my purse and set it down on the pavement next to him, the back of his head facing me. I paused to smile at my own good deed. Indeed, today was the first day of a new life for me. And despite her many, many flaws, Mami had been a true believer in showing kindness to those less fortunate.

Just then, he turned his head and looked at me. I couldn’t breathe; I couldn’t see; I couldn’t move. My chest hurt, my throat closed, I wanted to cry, no, I wanted to weep.

Here was this homeless man staring right at me. Here was this man who I knew...who had once told me he would never leave me...who had once held me in his arms and read me stories. Here was this man who abandoned me. Here was this man whose eyes, I was sure, didn’t recognize me. Here was this man whose face had scars that weren’t there the last time I saw him. Here was my father.
Oh, Papi, what happened to you?

I didn’t say a word to him. He didn’t say a word to me. Before I could collapse, I took off running.

I knew two things that day. One, he needed me. Two, I needed him.

***

I
t was 8:30 in the morning and I was settling into my chair, coffee in hand, when the phone rang. I picked it up. “All Write Literary Agency, how may I help you?”

“I have an appointment with Mr. Walker. I’m sorry, I’m running late. I’m stuck in traffic,” the person, a man, on the other line said.

I hadn’t turned on my computer yet so I couldn’t check Mr. Walker’s calendar.

“What time is your appointment?”

“It’s now. Can you let him know I’ll be there as soon as possible?”

I didn’t remember scheduling an appointment so early.
Come on stupid computer, boot up already.
On my second day of work, Mr. Walker had promised to get me a new computer and a tablet. Today was my twenty-fifth day on the job. My new computer and fancy tablet were on order, the office manager had told me.

“What’s your name?”

“Reece Carter.”

“I’ll let him know, don’t worry.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up.

My computer finally started. I looked up Mr. Walker’s calendar. Nope, nothing scheduled for that morning at 8:30. In fact, his calendar was wide open until lunch, when he was meeting a new editor for lunch at the Old Ebbitt Grill.

Biting my nails, I got up and walked to Mr. Walker’s door. Turning the knob, I pushed the door open a little bit. I could hear the TV in the background so I knew he wouldn’t hear me knock.

“Mr. Walker?”

“Yes, come in.”

I stepped in and said, “Your 8:30 appointment is running late.”

He was sitting behind his desk, staring at his computer, his curly hair curlier than usual. “Of course he is,” he said, letting out a long sigh. “I’m surprised he’s actually coming.”

“I didn’t know you had an appointment this morning.”

He picked up the clicker and pointed it to the TV, turning it off. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. He’s my sister’s kid. She called me last night and begged me to meet with him. Seems he’s written the next great American novel and wants to tell me all about it.”

“Have you read it?”

“God, no,” he said, rubbing his chin.

“Are you going to read it?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have a choice, him being my nephew and all. My sister is quite persistent. Don’t tell anyone, but she scares the hell out of me sometimes. She used to boss me around when we were kids and for some reason, I let her. Still do.”

“I understand,” I said, noticing that my skirt was much too short. When I put it on this morning, it seemed longer, but then, I had forgotten to set my alarm and woke up frantic. No time to make sure my skirt was appropriate for work.

“Send him in when he gets here,
if
he ever gets here.”

“Will do.” I turned and exited his office.

Sitting down at my desk, I took a sip of my coffee. It was cold. No matter, I’d drink it down just the same. Something told me I was going to need all the caffeine I could swallow today.

I was so into my coffee, I didn’t notice the person standing in front of me.

“Hello, I’m Reece. I talked to you on the phone.”

I looked up and nearly dropped my coffee cup. “Yes, you’re Mr. Walker’s nephew.”

Dark hair, blue eyes, and quite tall. And drop dead gorgeous.

“I was hoping he wouldn’t tell you I was his nephew,” he said, grinning.

I ignored his comment. “He’s waiting for you, although I’m not sure he’s happy you’re late.”

“He’s never happy. I’m used to it. So, can I go in or do you need to announce me?”

“Go right in.”

He took a few steps and then turned around. “What’s your name?”

“Jadie...Jadie Santiago.”

“I’m sorry I made things hard for you this morning. After I hung up, I realized you probably had no idea I was meeting with him.”

“It’s okay, but, can I ask you for a favor?”

“I guess, sure, okay.”

“Please don’t make him any grumpier than he already is.”

He laughed, revealing dimples on both sides of his face. “I promise I’ll do my best.”

***

T
wenty minutes later, Reece came out of Mr. Walker’s office.

“That was quick,” I said, immediately realizing I was being rude.

He wrinkled his brow. “He entertained me longer than I thought he would.”

“So, it was a good meeting, then?”

“He agreed to read my novel.”

“That’s great,” I said, smiling.

He cleared his throat. “I know he only agreed to it because he’s afraid of my mom. Everyone’s afraid of my mom. She doesn’t take no for an answer and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry.”

“You never know, he may end up really liking it.” I wrinkled my nose.

“We’ll see.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

He half-smiled. “Thanks. Oh, and I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“He’s...
really
grumpy.”

“Hmm, well that will set the mood for my day, thank you very much.”

“Let me make it up to you. How about having lunch with me?”

My heart jumped. One second I was having a casual, yes okay, somewhat flirty conversation with a stranger and the next second, I was being invited out on a date—yes, lunch counted as a date. I couldn’t possible accept, could I? After all, he was Mr. Walker’s nephew and I...well, I was damaged goods, a damaged creature. While I could pretend all was well and that my father wasn’t homeless, the reality of my life always came rushing back.

“Your answer is...”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Because he’s my uncle?” He glanced at Mr. Walker’s office door.

“No, I...have plans.” I lied.

“I see, well, no worries, then. It was nice to meet you. Good luck with Mr. Grumpy.”

“I’ll live.”

“I better go. See you around, Jadie Santiago.”

After he left, I sat still in my chair for what seemed like forever. I had missed an opportunity to have fun...to let go of my burdens, if only for a brief moment. Something about Reece made me feel I could forget my worries. I had only just met him, but right at that moment, I knew I wanted to see him again. I couldn’t deny it.

––––––––

I
left work at 7 p.m., an hour later than my usual time. Truth be told, I didn’t want to see my father; I simply couldn’t bring myself to walk by him tonight. Seeing my father reminded me that despite my desperate attempt to be normal, I was not. I carried with me baggage, lots of it. But then, I sometimes wondered how much baggage those around me carried. If I took a moment to stop and stare at the people walking past me, if I gawked long enough, would I see their truth? Would I see the pain hidden behind their smiles? I took slight comfort in knowing that maybe, maybe, I wasn’t alone. Part of me wanted to call a meeting right then and there on the sidewalk, at the top of the Metro’s escalators, among the folks screaming that the apocalypse was near and that we all needed to repent or die a slow and agonizing death, among the old ladies selling rose bouquets, among the musicians who were hoping to earn a few more dollars before the last of the commuters disappeared down the escalators.

I wanted to holler, “All right, listen up everyone let’s stop pretending! Let’s get it all out so we can be free and start healing!”

Yes, I spent a lot of time thinking about all the things I wanted to do, but never did. Like go on dates. I had been asked out to lunch by a gorgeous guy who was a writer, well, at least he was aspiring to be one, and I had flat-out turned him down all because I didn’t think I deserved even a single moment of happiness.

I’d drown my sorrows with a bottle of wine tonight. I needed the fogginess that wine would bring.

Down the escalators I went.

Ten minutes later, I resurfaced.

As I hiked the three blocks to my apartment building, I couldn’t help noticing a young couple walking in my direction. The girl, not much younger than me, was clinging to her boyfriend—I assumed he was her boyfriend. She whispered something in his ear and he immediately started laughing. He then kissed her on the cheek and pulled her closer.

Clearly, they were really into each other. At twenty-three, I had never been in love with anyone.

When I made it to my building, I opened the door and darted to the staircase. I usually took the stairs. Our apartment was on the third floor of a six-story, fifty-year-old building, and since I wasn’t dedicated enough to maintain a consistent exercise routine, taking the stairs made me feel less guilty about my lack of commitment.

I crossed my fingers that my roommates had decided to go out for dinner. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with their chirpy, happy selves.

First, there was Grace. Graduated with a political science degree from George Washington University, worked on Capitol Hill for a senator whose name I always forgot. She was always smiling and always happy and recently underwent cosmetic surgery, got a boob job. No one is supposed to know that. Her downfall: she was always looking for love. She fell in love with every man she met, but so far not a single one had reciprocated.