Secrets

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Secrets Page 7

by Robin Jones Gunn


  Ms. Mendelson strode back to her podium and called the meeting to order. Jessica didn’t turn around to check if Kyle were still at his post at the door. It bothered her that she still felt fluttery in her stomach and decided the abundance of potato salad must be the cause. It certainly couldn’t be her emotions. If she couldn’t control those at age twenty-five, well then she might as well be a—what had she called them? Little crush cadets. Of course, Jessica Fenton could not risk anyone or anything controlling her, especially her own unruly emotions.

  The meeting broke at nearly five o’clock. Jessica felt exhausted; she was eager to get home and collapse on the couch. But at the last minute she decided to return to her classroom for one of the textbooks she hadn’t finished looking over. When she opened the door, Kyle was standing on a ladder checking something in the ceiling.

  “Hi,” he said warmly as Jessica entered the room.

  “Hi. Everything okay up there?” She checked her tone of voice, expression, and body language, being careful to address Kyle as she would any random firefighter who might be lurking in her room.

  “Yep. The sprinkler system checks out fine. So this is your room, huh?” he asked, coming down the ladder. Jessica wondered if he already knew that and had been waiting for her to return.

  “Yes, this is my room.”

  “Looks as if you’re all ready for the big day.”

  “I need to look through one more of the textbooks,” she said, reaching for the book on the shelf behind Kyle. Why did she feel she had to explain to him her reason for being in her own room?

  “So you’re going to be pretty busy tonight reading your textbook?” Kyle asked.

  Jessica wasn’t sure what to say. She held the book to her chest, with her arms crossed, and looked down at her shoes. She knew what Kyle was going to ask her next, and she didn’t want to answer him until the blush had faded from her cheeks.

  Just then the door to her room opened. “Hey, Jess,” Teri called out, “do you want a ride—” She stopped mid-sentence. “Oh hi, Kyle.”

  Jessica turned to face Teri and tried to appear natural. She guessed the blushing hadn’t completely faded yet, because Teri raised her eyebrows and said, “I guess Kyle can give you a ride home. If that wouldn’t be too much of a pain for you, Kyle.” Jessica caught the hidden meaning of Teri’s emphasis on “pain.”

  “Sure,” Kyle obliged quickly. “I’d be glad to.”

  Jessica shot Teri a look that said, “What are you doing to me?”

  Teri only smiled back, nodded, and said, “Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow, Jess. And I’ll see you whenever, Kyle. Bye, you guys.” With that, she disappeared.

  “Did you need to get anything else?” Kyle asked as he folded up the ladder.

  “No, this is it.” She walked back to the door with Kyle behind her, toting the ladder with one hand. Jessica gathered up her purse, handbook, and notes from the day, along with Teri’s aloe vera plant.

  “Can I carry anything for you?” Kyle offered.

  “No, I have it all. Thanks.”

  They walked silently down the hallway. Several other teachers greeted them, calling Kyle by name and nodding at Jessica as if they recognized her but didn’t quite remember her name. She wondered if it looked as if she and Kyle were “together,” and she wished they would pass Martin Monroe. She would love to give Martin the impression she wasn’t available.

  Kyle returned the ladder to a storage closet near the front door, and they exited together. Jessica adjusted the awkward cargo in her arms and started down the front steps. On the fourth cement step, her left leg wobbled, and she nearly fell. Kyle reached for her elbow and gently held on to her, steadying her steps the rest of the way.

  “You sure I can’t hold that plant for you?” he asked.

  “Thanks, but I have it,” Jessica said stubbornly. Kyle released her elbow.

  They were almost to his white truck in the parking lot when Charlotte came sprinting up behind them, her spike heels clicking on the asphalt. She must have spotted them leaving from her office window. Maybe she saw Kyle holding Jessica’s elbow.

  “Kyle, you didn’t check out at my office.” She caught up with them and positioned herself between Jessica and Kyle, with her back to Jessica. Charlotte said sharply, “You must come back to the office so I can sign the papers.”

  Jessica couldn’t help but cough when the overwhelming scent of Charlotte’s perfume met her nostrils. Either she had just doused herself, or the jog to the parking lot had activated the fragrance at her pulse points.

  Kyle explained that he had returned the papers to the office already and that Mrs. Blair, the secretary, had put them in Charlotte’s office. As Charlotte continued to try to persuade Kyle to come back with her and show her where they were, Jessica realized that Kyle had, indeed, already completed his inspection and was waiting for her in her room. Teri might actually be right. Maybe Kyle was interested in her in more than a benevolent way.

  Jessica wanted to feel flattered, but she couldn’t allow herself the luxury. Instead, she thought she should run away, leave Charlotte and Kyle in the parking lot, and walk home, ignoring both of them and refusing to deal with the emotions either of them evoked in her. She would watch for her little squirrel friends and think up stories and feel nothing for real people. That was the only safe place for her to be.

  Before she had a chance to act on her impulse, Kyle stepped around Charlotte and gently took Jessica again by the arm. He said, “I’m sure you’ll find the papers on your desk. If not, Mrs. Blair can direct you to them.”

  “But we haven’t discussed the assembly,” Charlotte said, following them to the truck.

  “I arranged it with Mrs. Blair. Twenty-minute talk at 9:30 on Tuesday, September 28. It’s a standard career presentation.” Kyle unlocked the passenger door and assisted Jessica into the cab. He closed the door and walked around to his door. Charlotte followed him. Kyle politely said, “Good day,” got into the cab, and started the engine.

  Charlotte Mendelson’s gaze left Kyle, and she caught Jessica’s glance. She shot Jessica a venomous expression. For an instant, Jessica felt her hair bristle, but then she forced herself to look away, breaking the poisonous spell. That woman would not control her.

  Kyle drove slowly out of the parking lot, opening the glove compartment, taking out a pack of cinnamon flavored gum, and offering Jessica a stick.

  “No thanks.”

  Kyle unwrapped his piece while holding the steering wheel with his thigh. Soon the cab filled with the faint scent of cinnamon. Jessica remembered when Kyle had leaned into her car and instructed her to breathe slowly. The cinnamon scent on his breath had comforted her then, and it soothed her now.

  Kyle turned down Marigold Lane and then ventured to ask Jessica, “Are you going to be busy tonight, then?”

  “I really do have a lot I need to do.” Jessica was beginning to dislike herself and the aloof role she was playing. Whatever you do, Jess, don’t look at him. If Charlotte’s look can make your skin crawl, Kyle’s could certainly make your heart melt. Don’t let it!

  Chapter Seven

  Kyle pulled up in front of Jessica’s little cottage and turned off the truck’s engine.

  “Thanks for the ride,” Jessica said, trying to let him know she appreciated his kindness, even though she couldn’t return his interest in her. Jessica opened the truck’s door, collected her things, and began to step out. Her left leg gave way as she placed her weight on it. Reaching for the door to steady herself, she clutched the plant while half her loose papers fluttered to the ground.

  Kyle sprang from his side of the vehicle and dashed around to help Jessica regain her balance. “I’m okay,” she said, refusing his helping hand. “My leg still stiffens up. It must be from sitting all day.”

  “Let me carry these for you,” Kyle said, gathering the papers before the wind had a chance to scatter them. Jessica thought it would be ridiculous to refuse his assistance for such a small thing. S
he made it to the front door without further mishaps.

  As they walked inside, the smell of last night’s burnt zucchini greeted them. She hoped Kyle wouldn’t notice. But then, he was a firefighter.

  “Did something get burned in the kitchen recently?” Kyle asked, sniffing the air like Smoky the Bear.

  “It was only some zucchini I overcooked last night. Nothing, really.” Jessica hoped he would leave it at that.

  “Do you have a smoke detector in there?” Kyle wandered into the kitchen.

  “Yes,” Jessica said, following him. She pointed to the round ivory device above the refrigerator, but didn’t mention it had gone off last night.

  “By any chance did Ida have a safety check done on this place before you moved in?” Kyle asked. “I could do one for you real quick, if you don’t mind.”

  How could she refuse a safety check?

  Kyle began by looking under the sink and following the electrical plug in from the coffeemaker and toaster oven to the wall outlet. He effortlessly pulled out the refrigerator, checked behind it, rolled it back, and then opened the refrigerator door.

  Jessica held her breath. Would he notice it was empty? Of course he would.

  Kyle stood still a moment, the door open, studying the dial in the back of the cold box. “Everything looks good,” he said, closing the door but not asking why it was empty. “Nice and safe.”

  That’s how Jessica was beginning to involuntarily feel around Kyle, nice and safe. But she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. She wasn’t supposed to meet someone like Kyle in Glenbrooke. Something drastic needed to be done, and it needed to be done now.

  “Look, Kyle,” Jessica said, “I appreciate all the nice things you’ve done for me. Thank you. But you have to leave me alone. I can’t have you waiting for me in my classroom or carrying my books home from school or checking my kitchen for fire hazards.” Her voice was rising to a near shouting level. “I’m sorry I have to say this to you, but please leave me alone.”

  It took everything within her to hold back the tears. “I mean it. Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!” She was yelling now as she pointed to the door.

  Kyle looked stunned. He stood his ground and said, “What is it, Jessica? What’s the problem?”

  Jessica had to look away from him. The instant she did, the tears began to overflow and came crashing down her fiery red cheeks. Depleted of her burst of anger, Jessica spoke mechanically and repeated her request in a lower tone. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Not until you tell me why.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Is it another guy? Financial problems? What is it, Jessica? I can help, if you’d let me.”

  Jessica blinked hard and tried to find another compartment of anger inside herself from which to draw her response. “It’s none of your business,” she said levelly. “Leave me alone.”

  She turned her back on Kyle and limped through the kitchen and out her back door so she could be the one to slam a door behind her. Collapsing into the chaise lounge, Jessica let the tears fall—tears for how she had just treated Kyle, tears for the pain creeping up her leg, tears for all the fears she was running away from.

  The back door opened, and slow, deliberate footsteps approached her. Jessica refused to look at Kyle. She commanded her tears to halt, but they refused to obey. Kyle stopped behind her. She wouldn’t turn around.

  “Jessica, let me tell you something about secrets.” His words were firm and delivered with what sounded like deep rage. “The longer you carry them, the heavier they become.” With that, he turned and marched away. This time, it was Kyle’s turn to slam the door.

  What is that supposed to mean? What does he know about my secrets?

  Jessica rose and angrily walked to the front door. The minute she reached it, she could hear the engine of Kyle’s truck rumble to a roar and the tires squeal as they peeled away from the curb.

  She stood there for a long time. Finally her throbbing leg persuaded her to climb the stairs and soak in a long, hot bath. While she sat in the tub, Jessica tried to convince herself she had done the right thing.

  On Friday, she sat uncomfortably through the morning session of endless and, in her opinion, unnecessary meetings led by their commander in chief. Teri wisely didn’t bring up the subject of Kyle. The meetings ended at noon so there was no catered buffet. Jessica hoped the donut and orange juice she had gleaned from the snack table that morning would hold her through the rest of the day. She had finished the remainder of her sandwich, which she had smuggled into her purse at yesterday’s lunch, and she had nothing at home.

  When the teachers were dismissed, Charlotte announced over the microphone, “I need to see Ms. Fenton immediately in my office.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Teri asked. “I can come in looking for a requisition form or something.”

  “No, Charlotte doesn’t scare me. Look, she’s up there talking to that P.E. coach again. I think I’ll go on over and be waiting for her in her office.”

  “You do that,” Teri said. “Hey, are we still on for tonight? I have cheerleading practice with the girls until 5:30. I could come pick you up after that.”

  “I didn’t know you were in charge of the cheerleaders.”

  “Yeah, sort of a flashback to my old days at Kelley High School in Escondido. I was a cheerleader my senior year. I almost didn’t make it, but…” Teri and Jessica both noticed Charlotte leaving the podium and making her way out the front door toward her office. “Well, that’s a story for another day.”

  “Go ahead and tell me now. Charlotte can wait.”

  “No, it’s kind of a long story. I’ll pick you up after 5:30, okay?”

  “Okay,” Jessica agreed. Teri went her way, leaving Jessica to make the journey to the office alone.

  Charlotte wasn’t there when Jessica arrived so she went in, at the secretary’s recommendation, and took a seat facing the wide desk and full bookshelves. One of the books caught Jessica’s eye. She wanted a closer look. Checking over her shoulder to make sure Charlotte wasn’t about to walk through the open door, Jessica slid over to the bookshelf and pulled out the book.

  It was old, like the antique books that filled her own shelf. Jessica carefully opened the book and read the copyright, “London, Chapman and Hall, 1872.” The binding on the book next to it read, “Essays, First Series, Emerson.” Jessica paused. It was a book of essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson, a book she would be thrilled to add to her collection. She carefully put the book back and scanned the spines of the others on the shelf. The collection was impressive, and it belonged to Charlotte Mendelson.

  Jessica returned to her seat perplexed. She never would have guessed that Charlotte had a love for classical literature. It had been easy to write off Charlotte when she seemed to have no human side to her. Now Jessica found it difficult and painful to continue disliking a person who shared her hobby. It also seemed a pity that she would never be able to compare collections and swap stories of how the treasured volumes were acquired.

  The office door swung open, and Charlotte marched in. “We seem to have a problem with your files, Ms. Fenton. You failed to list anything under ‘nearest relative’.”

  From the look in Charlotte’s eyes, Jessica knew she was out for blood. All thoughts of common interests evaporated.

  “We need a name, address, and phone number in case of emergency.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring it in on Tuesday,” Jessica said coolly.

  “You mean you don’t know your parents’ name, address, and phone number?” Charlotte mocked.

  Jessica paused before answering. “My mother is dead. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she rose from her chair, “I’ll bring the information in for you on Tuesday, like I said.” Jessica began to walk stiffly to the door.

  As Jessica reached for the knob, she heard Charlotte say in a low voice, “I see it left a scar. Too bad.” Her voice displayed no pity.

  Jessica’s hand froze on the knob. It took everything
within her to ignore the comment and continue out the door. She succeeded. She even closed the door calmly and said hello to Mrs. Blair, the secretary. Mrs. Blair looked as if she had aged five years since Jessica had seen her on Monday. The phone was ringing, papers were everywhere, and the woman had spilled coffee or hot chocolate down the front of her white blouse. Jessica wondered how long Mrs. Blair would last in her position. Having Mr. McGregor as principal must have been quite different.

  Jessica walked home slowly, forcing all thoughts of Charlotte to flee. It was a warm afternoon, and she enjoyed the old homes in her neighborhood. Each house was different. Some of the houses had broad porches and inviting porch swings. Other homes looked colonial with white, fat columns out front, boasting that someone important lived there. Next to one such mansion was wedged a little white bungalow with green flower boxes in the front. Eighty years ago, the servants to the big house probably lived there. Or maybe it used to be the carriage house. Today, it was someone’s starter home and probably cost more than the servants who used to live there had made in their entire lifetimes.

  The hot afternoon sun made it seem as if it were the middle of summer, with many more weeks of warm nights, watermelons, and giggling children running through sprinklers. Only the sunflowers at the house on the corner of Marigold Lane gave away the truth. Their five-foot-tall stalks sagged. All of them had popped their seeds and seemed to beg for a chance to lie down in the compost pile. A few more golden days and then the cool winds would come, and with the winds, the rain.

  Everything in Glenbrooke was the way Jessica had thought it would be, as far as the houses, weather, and neighbors were concerned. She stopped on the sidewalk two doors away from her cottage and watched something she never saw in Los Angeles: white sheets flapping in the wind on a clothesline. A woman about her age clipped the last fresh, white pillowcase on the line while a tow-headed toddler waddled around the clothesline pole, contentedly singing to himself. The scene made Jessica’s heart ache. She wanted to be the woman hanging clothes on the line. She wanted a little blond boy to sing at her feet.

 

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