Something Like This (Secrets) (25 page)

I grabbed his arm. “Talk to me.”

“I can’t call him back.”

“I thought you wanted him to rep you. I thought you wanted to get published.”

“I did. I do. Just not now. Not with this novel.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not right. It’s not fair.”

“What’s not right?”

He moved over to my dresser and leaned against it. “That my dad died. He was the only one who really cared about my writing. He was the only one who didn’t think my novel was stupid.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Your mom cares.”

“Only after he died.”

“Do it for him. I’m sure he would have wanted you to keep writing.”

His eyes far away, he said, “How do you know what he would have wanted me to do? You never met him.”

“You’re hurting. I get it. But don’t hurt me because you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You are. You just won’t admit it.”

“And you’re not? You’re not afraid of anything anymore?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He wasn’t ready to talk to me and I didn’t want the evening to end with us in a fight.

“Let’s go back to the party,” I said.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Maybe I
am
afraid.”

“It’s okay to be afraid. But, don’t let it stop you from getting on the Ferris wheel.”

“What?”

“What I said. You have to get on, despite your fear.”

“Why are you so smart?” he asked.

“I’m not. I’ve just grown wiser now that I’m twenty-four.”

“What’s my excuse?”

“You’re a late bloomer.”

“Think I’ll ever catch up?”

“If you let me help you.”

“You’re not going to stop trying, are you?”

“Nope.”

“How about you hit pause for tonight?”

“Fair enough. After all, it is my birthday.”

“Shall we get back to the party?”

“We better before all the cake is gone.”

***

W
hen we entered the living room, everyone was eating cake and drinking wine or beer. Grace and Mr. Walker were engaged in what looked like a serious conversation. They were standing in a corner by the window, somewhat separate from everyone else.

I walked over to them. “Discussing business at a birthday party is a big no-no.”

“Grace just told me she’s going to finish her novel on her own without input from me or Tom,” Mr. Walker said.

“You’re not pleased?” I said to Mr. Walker.

“No.”

“I think I need to go help Lisa with something,” Grace said and slipped away.

“You put her up to this?” Mr. Walker asked.

“Of course not.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Thank you for coming to my party,” I said, attempting to change the conversation.

“Are you having a good time?”

“Lovely time.”

“Reece asked me to come. How’s he doing?”

“He’s getting there.”

“He still hasn’t called me back.”

“I’m sure he will when he’s ready. How’s his mom?”

“She’s better.” He sipped his wine. “It’s not appendicitis.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked away for a moment. “Reece doesn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“She has ovarian cancer.”

“What?” I immediately felt dizzy.

Mr. Walker put his wine glass on the window sill. “Please don’t tell Reece. She doesn’t want him to know. He won’t be able to handle it.”

My insides felt as if someone had reached inside and was pulling me down to hell. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s my kid sister. She’s strong. I thought you should know, but please swear you won’t tell him. I’ve taken her to all her appointments. I see how strong she is. She’ll beat this.”

This explained his mysterious absences from work; why he wouldn’t tell me where he was going. I felt so incredibly sad for him, but how could he ask me not to tell Reece? It was too much to ask. I couldn’t keep this from Reece.

“I can’t swear,” I said.

“Jadie, please.”

“You shouldn’t have told me.”

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do.”

“That’s why I told you.”

“But, you don’t want me to tell him?”

“When he finds out, and he will, he’s going to need you.”

“Are you going to tell him?” I asked.

He looked out the window. “I don’t think I can.”

It occurred to me that Mr. Walker was suffering. His little sister was sick and possibly dying. He probably chose to tell me because he had to tell someone.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He sighed deeply. “She’s bossy, always has been. She’ll boss the cancer right out of her.”

“I hope so.”

“She will. Bet on it.” He picked up his wine glass and swallowed a sip. “Do you remember the day I asked you to pick up the editors at the train station?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, I remember.” How could I forget?

“They weren’t editors. They were acquisition people coming to look over the agency.”

“For what?”

“To decide whether or not they wanted to buy it. I panicked and called it off.”

“You’re selling the agency?”

“We’re not selling as many books anymore. And the ones we do sell don’t go for much. That’s why I stole Tom away from his other agency. I was hoping he could help save us. Maybe bring in some big name authors, or find a new author with a big idea. Someone New York would go nuts for.”

My birthday party had become a night of revelations.

“Could Grace do that?”

“Maybe. She has a unique storytelling voice. She has a great story to tell. Will that be enough? Who knows?”

“How much time do we have?”

“Until after Christmas. I still believe in miracles,” he said.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“What can you do?”

“I can work my ass off. I can read manuscripts all day, all night, until we find a gem, until we find the one. I can do it. I know I can. Let me bring you manuscripts directly, without going through Tom. Let me decide which ones have a chance. Give me a chance to bring in a new author.”

He drew in a breath and then released it. “I need you to focus. Can you focus?”

“Day and night. I won’t stop. I swear it.”

And I meant it. I would not let Mr. Walker sell the agency. I belonged there. Mr. Walker had given me a chance from the first day I set foot in the office. He had cared, and he had pushed me to strive for more. I was not going to let him down. I was not going to let myself down.

“I brought you a piece of cake,” Reece said, holding a plate in front of me.

I could barely make eye contact with him.

My hand shaking, I took the plate.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to get sick,” Reece said.

“I don’t think I’ve eaten enough today. I’m feeling a little lightheaded.”

“Maybe you should sit down,” Mr. Walker said.

I swallowed a small piece of cake. “I’m okay. My brain just needs some sugar.”

“There’s plenty of it in the cake,” Reece said.

He was right. By far, it was the sweetest cake I had ever tasted.

“Yum,” I forced myself to say.

“I guess Lisa substituted butter for lots more sugar,” Mr. Walker said.

“You sure you don’t want to sit?” Reece asked.

I thought I was going to faint. If I didn’t sit soon, I knew I would break and tell Reece what I had just learned about his mom. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t know.

“Okay, yeah, maybe I should sit,” I said, walking to the couch. “Scooch over,” I said to Grace.

“Just in time,” she said.

“For what?”

“Presents.”

I had learned that my boyfriend’s mom was sick, really sick. Opening presents seemed trivial. A birthday party seemed trivial.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit there and pretend that everything was okay.

“Sweetie,” I said to Grace. “Don’t hate me, but I’m not feeling well.”

“You okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. I just need to lie down for a minute.”

“Okay, go,” she said.

Reece walked me to my room.

“What happened to the birthday girl?” I heard Celeste ask as we walked down the hall.

“She went to lie down for a bit,” Grace said.

“Before presents?” Celeste said.

“Yes, before presents. That okay with you?” Grace said.

“I was just saying.”

***

R
eece closed the door behind us.

I went straight for my bed and collapsed in it.

Reece got in beside me. “What can I do? Can I get you something?”

“Hold me close.”

“Do you want me to stay the night?” he asked, spooning me.

“Yes.”

––––––––

A
week passed and the secret I was keeping from Reece was tearing me up inside. It was all I could do not to break down in tears when we were together. He had lost his father and now he was potentially going to lose his mother as well, leaving him and his little brother orphaned.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t really eat. It was too much.

How could I keep this secret from Reece? How could Mr. Walker not tell him? I understood why his mom was keeping her illness from him. She loved him and wanted to spare him pain. But what she was doing was stealing time she could be spending with him. He lost his father without warning. It wasn’t right. I had to tell him. I just had to.

Going up the Metro escalators on my way to work, I couldn’t help staring at a little boy and his mom who were holding hands and laughing as they made their way down. I texted Reece.

Hey, need to see u.

He texted back.
I was just thinking of u.

Can u come over to my work?

Now?

Yes

something wrong?

Just need to see u. Meet me outside my building on the benches?

I’m calling u.

No, just come, ok?

ok. be there in a few minutes

love u

me too

come

I’m coming

I had decided I would no longer keep any secrets in my life. I wanted to live honestly. And the secret I was now harboring wasn’t mine to keep. Reece deserved to know the truth. I loved him with all my heart and I didn’t want to be the one responsible for keeping him away from his mom. He needed to be there for her. And she needed to be there for him.

Mr. Walker had said she was strong and that she would beat her sickness. But what if she didn’t? What if she was sicker than Mr. Walker knew, and she had lied to him as well, because she knew he was going through a difficult time with his agency and she didn’t want to further burden him?

I walked past the spot which my dad had made his home for a while, under the train tracks on a dirty sidewalk.
Where are you, now? Are you safe?

My chest tightened. My stomach clenched.
I need you, Mami. I need you to give me strength.

Mami. When she had been alive, my relationship with her had been one of love and hate. I loved her for all the things she had done right. I hated her just as much for all the things she had done wrong. Yet despite it all, if I could have seen her just one more time, I would have hugged her with all my strength and told her I was okay, that I knew she had done her best, that she had tried.

When I got to the benches just outside my building I texted Reece.

i’m here, sitting on a bench.

five minutes,
he texted back.

I watched people going about the start of their day, coffee cups and briefcases in their hands, dressed in their nicest clothes, ready to prove they had what it took, they had what it took to make it.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Reece standing in front of me.

“I’m here,” he said.

Looking up at him, my heart threatening to rupture, I said, “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sit.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on.”

I put my hands on my stomach and breathed out. “Your mom.”

“What about her?”

“She’s sick. She’s really sick.”

“She’s not. Why would you say that?”

“She doesn’t want you to know. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He rubbed his face with his hands. “Are you messing with me right now?”

“I wish it wasn’t true.”

He slumped down next to me. “Why are you doing this?”

Sliding my hand in his, I said, “Mr. Walker told me.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. He told me during my birthday party.” I squeezed his hand and whispered, “She has cancer.”

He stood. “I don’t believe you. You’re lying. My uncle is lying.”

I could see his eyes beginning to water. “I should have told you the minute I found out.”

“How could you keep this from me?”

I stood. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. Your uncle didn’t want me to tell you.”

“My mom has cancer. You knew about it. And you kept it from me.”

I tried to hug him, but he pushed me away. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do.”

“I can’t trust you anymore. I can’t be with you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m saying it.”

He had just crushed my soul. As I stood there, looking into his eyes, I knew he meant what he was saying. He didn’t want me anymore. He felt betrayed. I
had
betrayed him. And now, my fairy tale was ending.

“You’re breaking up with me?”

He looked away.

“Look at me,” I said.

“I can’t look at you.”

Crying, I said, “What now? Has this made you stop loving me? Do you hate me?”

Slowly, he returned his gaze to me. “I never want to see you again.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I need to go. I need to be with my mom. It means I can’t be with you anymore.”

“Reece, please, I love you. I love you more than anything in the whole world.”

“If you really loved me, you would have told me the second you found out.”

“She doesn’t want you to know.”

“Leave her out of it. This is about you not telling me.”

“I’m telling you now.”

“Too late.”

He turned from me and started walking to his car.