The Secrets That We Keep (3 page)

“
S
o I ended up throwing up all over his shoes.”

Jade has
her hands covering her face, and her head looking towards her lap as she tells us how her night with Jackson ended. Jackson is the new guy she met the other night and ditched me for. The three of us decided on meeting at Fridays, so here we are enjoying some good food, good drinks, and good stories like we like to do from time to time. Michelle and I can’t help but crack up at Jade’s story.

“You don’t have to laugh so hard, you look like a seal when you clap your hands like that and make t
hat ridiculous noise.” Jade says to Michelle. Then she levels her eyes at me and I know she is gonna give me hell for laughing so hard too.

“And you,” she sa
ys, pointing at me with her spoon. “It’s not that funny! It’s embarrassing, and you’re over there laughing so hard that you have tears streaming down your face. I’m glad you guys think my love life is hilarious.” She gives us her meanest looking scowl.

“I’m sorry,
” Michelle says, trying to get her laughter in order. “I’m sorry, it’s just so funny because I’m picturing it in my head. You trying to be all seductive and whatnot and then right when he’s about to lean in to kiss you, you go and throw up on his shoes!” Michelle is cracking up again, and Jade’s face is red.

I’m using the napkin from the table to dry my eyes and cheeks while trying not to laugh again. Michelle has the type of laugh that will make you laugh just by hearing it.

“Look, Jade, I’m sorry. But you gotta admit it’s pretty funny, and you know damn well that if that had happened to either one of us, you’d be laughing your ass of too.” I give her a look that says you know it’s true.

“I know I know. I’m just so embarrassed. Stop laughing at me and give me some advice! I rea
lly like him.”

“You barely kno
w him,” I interrupt.

“I know, but he’s hot and from what I remember,
he seemed pretty nice,” she says with a shrug.

“Okay
,” I say as I start digging into my salad. “What did he say after you threw up all over him?”

“I did not throw up all over him, just his shoes
,” Jade replies with a look that says there is huge difference.

“You probably got the bottom of his p
ants a little too,” Michelle quips with a grin.

Jade mak
es a face at her and then turns to me. “He stood up and helped me off the couch and into the bathroom. He asked if I was okay and if I needed anything. I was horrified and said I was fine and that he could just show himself out. I apologized like five times too.”

“You kicked him out of your house?!” M
ichelle practically yells. “Did you even offer to help clean up his shoes?”

“No! I was so embarrassed and wasn’t thinking right. I felt terrible. I felt even worse after I came out of the bathroom and went into the living room to clean up my mess, only to find a little note scribbled on a piece of paper that said,
I hope you feel better, give me a call sometime and maybe we can have dinner. No drinks.
Then his phone number was written below.” She has her face buried in her hands again.

“Well, he does seem nice
,” I say, finishing my salad. “This is why you shouldn’t drink so much when you go out. It was still fairly early too, what were you doing? Taking shots of patron?”

Jade scoffs at me
. “No.” She hesitates for a minute. “Jose,” she finishes sheepishly.

“
Psh! Still fuckin’ tequila!” Michelle shouts.

“Oh whatever, Miss
I’ve-already-downed-two-huge-frozen-margaritas.” Jade snaps.

Michelle shrug
s and flips her blond hair over her shoulder. “At least I know I won’t be throwing up on anybody tonight. Plus I got a nice juicy steak coming out soon so that will soak up some of the alcohol.” She picks up her margarita glass and finishes the last few drops of her drink and winks at Jade. They love giving each other a hard time.

“Well, give him a
call then,” I say, interrupting their little back and forth banter. “He obviously wasn’t too turned off by you. You’re lucky you’re smokin’ hot,” I say with a wink.

Jade smiles and finishes
off her bowl of soup. “I guess I can give him a call. I just don’t know what to say.”

“How about, sorry for puking my guts out on you, I promise not to do it again
.” Michelle chimes in.

“Ha
ha,” Jade says dryly. “I’m going to apologize again, but…you know what, just forget it. I’ll figure it out.” She gives me a look that lets me know she plans on calling me later so we can talk some more about this.

Jade is my best friend and I know just about every look she has. She is very expressive and has
a hard time keeping her emotions hidden from her face. You can almost always tell what she is thinking, and she really is smokin’ hot. Jade has dark brown, long, thick hair. Sometimes she will wear it straight as a board, other times it will have these amazing loose curls. She has the kind of hair women hate her for. Her eyes are almond shaped and a nice honey brown color. She has high cheekbones, a full, pouty mouth and a celestial nose. Jade could be a model if she wanted to be. At least, I think so. She’s about 5’8”, has a nice toned body, and legs anybody would kill for.

Jade
is like a sister to me. She will never replace the sister I once had, but she is a damn good friend to have on your side and I am lucky to have her.

We met around five years ago. She was
the first person I let get close to me after
the accident.
We were both freshly twenty one and apparently had the same idea to go out and get shit-faced, probably for different reasons, her to celebrate something and me to forget something. I might have forgotten briefly that night, but I will never forget what changed my life completely.

Jade and I had stayed in that one bar that night, neither of us really looking to do any club hopping. It was a cold Chicago night and nobody wanted to be walking around in that weather.
We stayed until the bar closed; we had sobered up a bit and had ended up talking and exchanging numbers. We’ve been close ever since. We have shared pretty much everything. Clothes, makeup, stories and secrets, except the one secret I won’t let anybody know about. I can’t divulge that secret to anybody, not even my husband. Scratch that, especially not my husband. That is one thing I hope to carry to my grave.

“So, where
is that hot Latin lover of yours Anna?” Michelle asks, bringing me back into the conversation.

“Yeah, I thought he just came back home, why are y’all not back at the
house getting busy?” Jade asks while waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“He had to go do something for work
,” I reply back. “But don’t you worry Jade, there will be plenty of getting busy later.” I say, hoping that that’s truly the case and that he isn’t going to be out all late working on this case and he comes back being himself, not weird, agitated Julian.

“You sure are lucky you get to sleep
next to that sexy piece of ass,” Michelle says. “If I were you, I wouldn’t let him leave my sight. You know there are women ready and willing to steal him away from you.”

Jade gives Michelle a weird look and the
n looks at me. “Don’t worry Anna, I know Julian only has eyes for you. Well you and that ass of yours,” she says with a laugh. We all know Julian is an ass man. He’s always finding a way to grab it, smack it, pinch it and grope it.

“Yeah, I’m pretty lucky
,” I say with a smile, because I know it’s the truth. Julian is amazing and any woman would be lucky to have him.

We finish our meal, pay our tab and head outside to say goodbye.
Jade and Michelle both live in the city and I have to drive about nineteen miles out to get to Highland Park where I live. Sometimes I miss living in the city, but Julian insisted on us living in the suburbs because he said it was safer. Couldn’t really argue with him there, I definitely wanted to feel safe so I agreed. The commute back and forth sucks, but I don’t go into the city near as often as Julian does, so it’s not too bad for me.

“Drive safely lady
,” Jade says as she gives me a hug. Then she whispers to where only I can hear her. “I’ll call you later so we can discuss Jackson some more.” She steps back and has the young puppy love look in her eye. I smile and nod at her.

“Thanks, you too.
There are crazy drivers in the city,” I say to her.

“Yeah, she’s one of them
,” Michelle adds as she steps in and hugs me goodbye too.

“Well, I’ll be in to
uch with you guys soon I’m sure,” I say as I walk to my car.

“Okay, bye, tell Julian we say
Hola!” Michelle yells out with a laugh.

I wave my hand without looking back.

A
s I’m driving towards my house, I’m hoping that I’ll see Julian’s grey Camaro in the driveway. I want him to be home so we can relax and spend some quality time together. I get to our house and pull into the driveway and Julian’s car isn’t here. I let out a sigh and park. I hope he’ll be home soon. I figure I can text him when I get in the house and see how much longer he’ll be.

Me:
Hey babe, just got home from dinner with the girls. How much longer do you think you’ll be? I miss you!

His r
esponse comes about ten minutes later. I pick up my phone while I take a sip of iced tea.

Julian:
Glad you made it home safely. I’ll probably be there in a half hour or so.

Me:
Okay babe, be safe, see you soon.

Julian:
I’m always safe, love you

I put the phone down on the side table and pick up the remote. I start flipping through channels trying to find something to watch. All these
frikken channels and never anything I want to watch. I scroll through my DVR list and see if I have anything recorded that I feel like watching. Nope. I end up just putting it on some reality show that I won’t pay attention to, turn the volume down and break out my e-reader and decide reading a book will pass time quickly. I am half way through the angst filled chapter when my phone starts ringing. I groan because I hate not being able to finish a chapter before having to put it down. Stopping in the middle of a chapter just seems weird to me. I glance over my right shoulder to the table next to me and see Jade’s name across the screen.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hey, Julian isn’t home is he?”

“No, he hasn’t made it back yet
,” I say sadly

“Oh, okay, I didn’t want to interrupt you if you were…busy.” I can almost hear her smile as she says that.

“No, unfortunately nobody is busy right now, and if I was, I don’t think I’d be answering your call,” I say while laughing.

“True.”

“So what’s up? You wanna talk about lover boy?” I ask.

“
Psh, I wish he was lover boy. We didn’t even get that far. Gah! I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re fine, everybody has idiot moments. He left you his number, you’re good.”

“I know. So tell me, what should I say?”

I can tell Jade really must think something
of him, because she never really asks me what she should say to guys. She’s usually pretty confident. Although, she has never puked on anybody before and I’m sure that knocks your confidence down a bit.

“How about you just apologize for being a
drunk ass and throwing up on his shoes. Say you usually don’t get that drunk and blame it on the fact that you didn’t eat anything before you started taking shots. Then offer to meet him somewhere for coffee or something, your treat. It’s the least you could do since you ruined his shoes.” I finish with a laugh.

“Ugh, I know. Okay. I guess I’ll call him tomorrow, or should I text? Texting would be less embarrassing.”

“Uh, no. Do not text him. We are adults, you can’t text him something like that. Plus his note said call, not text. Stop being a baby.”

“Fine, but if I embarrass myself…”

“You’ll be fine,” I say, interrupting her.

“Okay, love you, talk to you tomorrow. I’m about to go pass out.”

“Goodnight, love you too,” I say before hanging up.

I look at my phone to check the time. It reads 9:00pm.
Julian should be here soon so I decide to go upstairs and take a shower before he gets home. I take my phone with me upstairs so I can charge it. I sit on the bed and go to plug it in but stop when I take a look at the wallpaper on my phone. It’s a picture of me, my sister Eva, my mom Marie and my dad Vincent.

I was maybe eighteen in the
picture; Eva was a year and a half older than me. My sister was gorgeous. Long brown hair, dark brown eyes and a skin tone that most people try to achieve through tanning beds. Our partial Mexican blood helped us in that category. Our father was Mexican and our mother was French. Mom had a striking kind of beauty. She kept her dark hair fairly short, at least to her shoulders and had the most beautiful grey eyes. Our father was what you would describe as a hardworking, man’s man. He was a fixer; he could fix just about anything and loved doing it. He loved cars, sports and the occasional cigar. He was so handsome with his black hair and cleft chin that was usually covered by the beard he liked to grow, and was in good shape for his age.

They died six years ago. I was twenty years old when I lost the only family I had. I was depressed, angry, sad and full of guilt. I couldn’t believe what had happened. I couldn’t believe I was alone in the world. It took a while for me to get back on my feet and not have to drink to get through the day. It was six months after they died that the trial ended. Nobody was found
guilty; there was nobody to hold the blame and guilt, nobody to go to jail. But I knew better. I knew there was somebody who should hold blame and guilt, I knew someone should go to jail and suffer. I didn’t want to be the one to hold the guilt and to suffer, but I did; only I would not go to jail. That could not happen.

I realize I have
tears running down my face and I am still clutching the phone, staring at the picture of us in happier times. I quickly put the phone down and wipe the tears from my face. I get up and rummage through the dresser for some night clothes and head to the bathroom. I lean into the shower to turn the water on and then I strip down in front of the long rectangular mirror sitting behind our his and her sinks. I leave my clothes in a pile on the floor for now and go back to the shower. I stand under the water, hoping it will wash away my memories. Wanting it to wash away my sins. I know that’s unreasonable, but a girl can dream.

I probably spen
d twenty minutes standing under the shower head, enjoying the hot water hitting my body, enjoying all the steam it has created. Once I’m done, before I get out, I squeeze the excess water out of my hair a couple of times and then wrap the towel around my body and step out. I continue to dry off, drop the towel and rub some lotion into my skin.

I pull a brush out of the drawer and brush through my tangled mess, I hate having thick, naturally curly hair. It’s not even pretty natural
curls; it’s like wild woman, crazy poofy curls. If I don’t put gel and moose and hairspray in it, then it dries into something that looks like a rat’s nest. So I have to either braid it after getting out of the shower so it isn’t too bad when I wake up the next morning, or I have to blow dry, straighten and then use a curling iron on it. That is unless I want to wear it bone straight, then I stop at the straightening iron. It’s a hassle.

I decide
to just brush it, and give myself a little side braid. I put my little boy short underwear on and what is referred to as a “wife beater.” It’s one of my husband’s so it’s pretty long; it covers all my goodies at least. I gather my dirty clothes and walk into the room heading to our walk-in closet where we keep a hamper and toss them in there. I notice the hamper is full, but laundry will have to wait to be done tomorrow. I loathe laundry. I don’t mind so much the throwing them into the washer or even throwing them into the dryer, it’s the folding them, putting them away in drawers and closets and all that. It’s the worst.

I come out of the closet and I walk towards my cell to see if I have a text or missed call from Julian. He should have been home by now. He knows I worry about him.

The house phone rings instead. I find that odd because we rarely get calls on our house phone. People usually call our cells if they want to get a hold of us; I’m not even sure why we got a house phone.

“Hello?” I answer hesitantly.

“Hi, is Rivera there?” the deep voice on the other end asks.

“No, he isn’t home right now. May I take a message?”

“Oh really? I thought he’d be home by now.” I hear him muttering something and can’t quite hear what it is he said. “I tried calling his cell but he didn’t answer. Uh, can you let him know that Blake Bradley called please?”

Blake Bradley. I kno
w that name. I’ve heard Julian say it before. He works with this guy.

“Sure, but wasn’t Julian just th
ere? When did he leave?” I ask. Blake said he thought Julian would be home by now which meant he probably left a while ago. I was really getting worried now.

“Oh yeah, he was here earlier but didn’t stay too long, he left a
bout twenty or thirty minutes after he got here I think and I didn’t really have the chance to talk with him.”

“
Oh.” I paused for a few seconds to think. “Okay, I will be sure to let him know you called, Mr. Bradley.”

“Thank you,
” he replied, but I was already hanging the phone up.

If Julian had only been there for half an hour, where has he been the re
st of the time? My heart starts to race, my whole body feels hot and I suddenly feel the need to sit down. I had just spoken to him via text maybe a half hour ago so I take comfort in knowing he is alive and well. He has been out there, somewhere, for around four hours or so. I am trying to remember the exact time he left the house but it doesn’t matter because even if it took him thirty minutes to drive to the city, thirty minutes to do whatever he did there, and another thirty minutes to drive back, there was still a good two and half to three hours unaccounted for. Where the hell has he been?

I do
n’t have much time to dwell on it. I hear the door downstairs close. Julian is home. I feel both relieved and mad at the same time. How should I approach this? Should I ask him where he’s been? Should I ask how was work to see if he said he had left early and had a good reason as to why it took him so long to get back home? I don’t know. I decide to sit in the bed and pull the covers over my legs and grab my phone and get on Facebook.

Julian saunters
into the room just a couple minutes later. I’m not sure how to take in his appearance. He looks rough. His hair is a little messed up, his clothes look a bit wrinkled and in disarray and he looks exhausted. He was looking at his phone when he walked in and when he finally looks up at me, a weird look passes over his face, and then he smiles.

“Hey babe,” h
e says as he slips his phone into his pocket.

“Hey yourself,
” I respond.

His smile falters
for a second and then he walks towards my side of the bed and leans down to give me a quick kiss on the lips. He then walks to the dresser and starts to empty his pockets.

“So, how was work?” I ask,
trying to keep my voice as level as possible.

“Ugh, stressful, you don’t even want to know.”

He’s probably right I think to myself.

“Well, tell me something. What all did you have to
do? It took you a while.” I’m probing, hoping he’ll give me something, anything that will make sense as to why he wasn’t at the office this whole time.

“
Aww babe, did you miss me?” he asks with a playful smirk.

“I always miss y
ou when you’re gone,” I reply truthfully.

“I just got this new case and I had to do some research and dig into a few things and try to find some stuff out about this person and blah
blah blah. It’s not interesting babe, I promise. You wouldn’t want all the details.”

I have
to get more out of him. “So you were stuck inside the office this whole time? That sucks.”

His head snaps
in my direction and his eyes narrow a bit but then his face relaxes.

“Um, no.
I wasn’t in the office the whole time. I had to get out and get something to eat and I also had to do some uhh field research and stuff.”

Hmm.
I guess that’s believable. I know he has to do some sort of surveillance type work and watch people he is investigating. He just seemed like he didn’t really want to say too much.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry you had to be at wor
k so long. I’m glad you’re home,” I say with a smile and stretch my arms out so he knows I want him to come close so I can hug him.

He smiles and starts walking towards me and then stops. “
Uhh, I should get a shower first. I’m sure I’m all sweaty and gross.”

“I don’t mind your sweaty grossness.”

“I know, but I feel all dirty. Let me wash up then I’ll jump in the bed with you, okay?”

I give him a weak smile and nod my head. I’m sure I’ll fall asleep before he gets out.

“Oh, Brake Bradley called here looking for you,” I say without looking at him.

“Oh…okay. Thanks.”

He turns and walks into the bathroom and I scoot down into a laying position, put my phone back on the nightstand and pull the covers to my chin. This was not the reunion I was hoping for.