His Secret Heart (Crown Creek)

by Theresa Leigh

  When she finally stopped laughing, she didn't say anything. Maybe she sensed the change in me. Maybe she knew it was useless to even try to explain now. I wouldn’t hear it.

  The set of her mouth hardened into a thin, grim line. Then with a purposeful squaring of her narrow shoulders, she stood up. The light from the window spilled a broad streak of sunlight diagonally across her back. Throwing a spotlight on the perfect roundness of her ass.

  Right before it disappeared into yesterday’s jeans.

  I ached to tell her how beautiful she was. And how much I’d like to start over again and do this right.

  But I couldn’t. The walls were too high.

  "Thanks for the coffee, bourbon and oral, Finn King. And thanks for not fucking me, I guess.” she said without turning. “Have a nice life. And make sure to google how to make fires before tonight.”

  What more confirmation that I need that my very existence was poison? No one needed me. I didn't need anyone. I didn't need connection, attachment, or scandal, and I'd avoided all that with her.

  I’d done exactly what I set out to do.

  But the trailer still seemed emptier with Sky Clarence gone.

  Chapter Eight

  Sky

  And on top of everything else, today was my birthday.

  I didn’t know it when I left Finn’s trailer. It didn’t even cross my mind when I spotted my sad blue tent still sitting there waiting for me. The way I used to wait at the window for my father to come home.

  That perverse thought drew another hysterical laugh out of me. I walked over to my tent, unzipped the flap, and stepped inside, zipping it back up again to seal myself off from the world.

  The need to sleep, to let unconsciousness take over, was so overwhelming, I laid down flat on top of my sleeping bag. And I didn’t move until the buzz of my text alert jerked me awake again hours later.

  “Happy birthday!” it read.

  That’s when I remembered what today was and almost started laughing again.

  My cousin Olivia was the only family member from my mom’s side that I still kept in touch with. But even then, it was a sporadic thing. She dutifully sent me a birthday text every year. Tomorrow I’d do the same thing since we were a year and a day apart. We’d called ourselves the 'almost-twins' back when we were girls.

  But her family moved away when I was six and she was five. Then they’d moved again, and again, and again. Four times in one year.

  I’d turned seven without my birthday twin there to celebrate. And then a month later, my mother split, leaving me in Reckless Falls with my Dad and no one else.

  Olivia and I had tried, but we hadn’t seen each other in years. I knew the rough outline of her life. Mostly from liking her posts on Instagram.

  I knew that she’d landed here in Crown Creek her junior year of high school. She'd gone to community college, never finished her degree, and seemed happy to stay in her small town. I didn't blame her. From the looks of her posts, she had a ton of friends.

  Her text jolted me out of my daze and back to reality. I was homeless, jobless and my Daddy was dead. And I had a five surprise half-siblings who were seriously pissed about my existence.

  What the hell am I supposed to do now?

  One more question to add to the pile. I had quite a stack now. But I hadn't thought to go to my cousin for answers until I saw her text.

  As the phone rang in my ear, my hands shook so badly I had to lie down so I didn't drop it.

  Livvy was startled when she answered the phone, but covered it smoothly. “There's the birthday girl!”

  I could hear the smile in her voice and it tugged at me. I swallowed hard. “Hey cuz!”

  My voice sounded much smaller than usual, and Livvy picked up on it right away. "You okay?" she asked. "Not too broken up about being old, right?"

  “Hey you’re about to join me, I reminded her. Then my voice broke. “No it’s… been a weird twenty-four hours.”

  “Hey where are you?” she wondered. "I saw your post that the tour was winding down.”

  I sucked in air through my teeth. My old life felt alien to me now. Like it happened to a different person I'd only read about. But now I remembered that I'd just finished a nine month gig running wardrobe for a second string Broadway touring company. Which really meant I was a glorified laundress.

  Usually life on the road meant that the cast and crew became family. But the dynamic had been off for this one from the start. The lead actor's diva-like behavior made all of us - cast and crew alike - miserable. He seemed to take particular delight in throwing tantrums about his costume. I hadn’t been sorry about the end of this show. I’d been looking forward to coming home - back when I’d thought I had a home to come to. "Yeah we wrapped four days ago."

  "Do you miss everybody?"

  "I don't miss getting a basket of dirty socks dumped on my head by a tantrumming actor, that's for sure. "

  "No way!” my cousin squealed. “That didn't happen."

  "Oh, it did." I remembered when that seemed like the biggest problem I had.

  "What did you do?"

  "I sewed fishing line into the toe of his sock for Act III," I declared matter-of-factly. When my cousin’s silence told me she was trying to figure out what that meant, I elaborated. “You clip it after sewing the seam. It’s basically invisible, but you can feel it. And with any luck, you get so irritated that you flub your lines and end up getting booed at curtain call.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing.

  "That's absolutely diabolical," my cousin said, sounding half awed and a half scandalized.

  "Don't fuck with the people who keep you clothed, you know?"

  "I think it's better if people just don't fuck with you at all," Livvy corrected.

  "That's the whole idea."

  "So are you back at home? And what are you doing on your birthday?"

  "I'm not at home." I tapped my fingers on my knee. I’d called her hoping to get some answers, but now I wasn’t even sure I wanted to ask the question. What if she did know? Did I want to find out she’d been keeping it from me? We weren't as close as we were when we were kids, but I thought there'd be leftover loyalty.

  For what felt like the millionth time in as many minutes, shame clawed hot streaks across my face. If she was keeping a secret, she was no better than my dad. But after living a lie for so long, how could I duck the truth any longer? Wouldn’t keeping his secret for him just end up exonerating him?

  Fuck it. He didn’t deserve my protection. Not anymore. "I'm not home." The result in my voice startled me. "I'm sitting in a tent at a campground just outside of Crown Creek."

  "What? You're here?" The open happiness in her voice encouraged me.

  "I came here for my Dad’s funeral.”

  There was a long silence. "Oh, Sky. Shit. I am so sorry."

  I waited. Waited for some admission, some inkling that she knew more than she was letting on.

  But after she drew in a long breath, the next thing out of her mouth was innocent confusion. "Wait? You're here in Crown Creek for your Dad’s funeral? Why here?"

  "It was at the Lowry Funeral Home," I said.

  "Why?"

  "Because." There was no way to sugarcoat it. There was no way to explain it other then by saying the truth. "Because Olivia, my father lived here in Crown Creek with his family."

  "I don't understand,” she answered immediately.

  "Let me ask you something?" I sat up straighter.

  “Okay?” She sounded confused, but I heard no lie in her voice.

  "How long have you lived here?"

  "Since junior year in high school."

  "It's a small town right?"

  "A little smaller than Reckless Falls. We definitely don't get all the tourists you guys do."

  "So would you say you know pretty much everyone here?"

  She laughed. "I'm shit with names, that is for sure. But, if I forget somebody, I can always ask my friend Claire. She... I swear she has full g
enealogical histories memorized for every single resident of this town."

  I was getting impatient. "So, you know the Knights?”

  She hesitated. "Yeah, I know of them. But they're a little scary.”

  “Yeah.” I exhaled. I felt like I needed to rush to get all the answers, and also slow down. Before I found out something else I didn't want to know. "But, what did you know about them?"

  "Just that they live outside of town, and they work on cars, I guess.” I could hear a tapping sound and wondered if it was her nails on a table top or a pen. I didn’t know her well enough to picture either. “Um, a couple of the brothers drive motorcycles, those really custom shop jobs with the loud ass motors. I know that. Oh and the oldest guy? Rocky or Rocco or something, he likes to get in fights. Well, more like cause fights. He’s always getting thrown out of the bar. But he always manages to escape getting charged with anything. Because everyone's scared of their dad."

  My heart sank. "Their Dad?"

  "He's like this mythical figure,” she went on, innocent to the nausea her words inflicted on me. “Bill Knight, ooooh spooky right? Everybody knows a guy who knows him. But I feel like everyone's more scared of his reputation than anything he ever did. Remember The Princess Bride? How everyone talked about the Dread Pirate Roberts, but nobody knew who he actually was?"

  I rested the heel of my hand against my eye, digging in half to soothe the pain there, half to make it worse. "So you've never actually seen him?" I asked.

  "No way. I try to steer clear of those people."

  “Do you know what he looks like?”

  “I can ask Claire. Why?”

  I had to fight to keep from screaming in frustration. Livvy was my cousin. She lived here in Crown Creek. She knew the Knights. She was the only link between my past and my nightmarish present…

  And she couldn’t help me.

  “Never mind,” I said, suddenly irritated with everything. A rush of wind made the tent walls bow, closing me in. “Happy early birthday, by the way.”

  “Uh, thanks?” Livvy sounded confused. “So you want to get together? Since you’re here in town - ?”

  “Not for long,” I interrupted. “Sorry.”

  “Uh, okay then! Hey sorry about your Dad, Sky, seriously. I know it’s been a long time, but I always thought he was such a great guy.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “So did I.”

  Chapter Nine

  Finn

  Once Sky left, I tried to shrug. “Crazy bitch,” I said aloud. But the words didn’t sound right at all, and I immediately hated myself for saying them.

  She wasn’t a bitch. Whether she was crazy or not... I was in no place to judge her for it. I felt pretty close to insanity myself.

  I shrugged again, trying to shake loose the strangeness of last night. I showered. Made the bed. Fried up a couple of eggs in a ton of butter and then sat down to eat them.

  The trailer rocked gently. Outside the wind was kicking up and dark clouds were moving in, heavy with the promise of rain. I sat there at the table where, in another life, I’d sat with my brothers. The four of us ate breakfast right here as we crossed the country on tour after tour.

  Sitting here was like eating with their ghosts.

  I scraped my fork across the plate and shoved the last bite of egg into my mouth. And tried to shove those memories down with it.

  It was over. I’d done it. I’d cut them loose. I’d left a note right there on the refrigerator. It was tucked underneath a magnet stamped with the hours of the Crown Creek library. Where my mom worked.

  The actual letter itself was short. You'd never know how many drafts I went through before giving up and angrily scratching out the truth.

  Beau,

  You’re my brother. The best man I’ve ever known. And you found the best woman too. I know you want to marry her and I want you to be happy together. But you’ll never have peace as long as I’m around, so I’m leaving. Don’t worry about me. Don’t try to call me. Please believe me when I tell you that you’re better off without me. Please believe that this is the right thing for us all.

  - Finn

  Leaving was the best way I knew to be as good of a brother to Beau as he had been to me. I wasn’t cutting him off.

  I was setting him free.

  In a way, it was my engagement gift. The best one I could give him. I was the albatross around his neck. I was an anchor weighing him down. He’d never cut me loose, so I did it for him.

  I tossed my plate into the sink with a clatter. I resolved to wash it before the egg hardened onto the plate but knew that I wouldn’t.

  Then I raked my fingers through my hair and glanced at my phone charging in the outlet by my bed.

  I’d told him not to worry. I’d told him not to call.

  I knew him well enough to understand that the first part was impossible.

  Maybe it was dumb to believe the second one was as well.

  It was two full days now since I’d left the note on the fridge and changed my number. What did I expect would happen? Did I think he had superpowers? That he’d somehow know to call me here?

  No. I’d freed him of his burden and now Beau was moving on. The rest of my family... well, I could just imagine their relief.

  I looked down at the table where I’d sat with my brothers. I dragged my fingers over the shiny formica. Then pressed them down flat and braced my weight against the table top.

  Yes. Alone. Peace and solitude. That's what the clamor in my head craved. It's what the blackness in my heart required.

  I spent the rest of the morning at the table. I alternated between trying and failing to read a paperback, and staring out the window. The clouds were rolling closer.

  Late in the afternoon, my stomach complained about missing lunch. I stretched and stood up again, then went to the refrigerator.

  Unless I wanted eggs again, I was shit out of luck. I’d been surviving on a carton of eggs, and the bland, tasteless sandwiches from the camp store.

  “Fuck,” I sighed and grabbed my coat.

  The clouds were right overhead now, but the rain was holding off. I pulled up my collar and hurried out into the damp chill.

  When I’d arrived here, I handed over a fistful of cash to the owner. She'd been more than happy to give me six spaces all to myself to avoid neighbors. I figured this would be temporary. After all, since I cut myself free, there was nothing keeping me in Crown Creek.

  But instead of leaving the next day, I stayed glued here, not quite willing to leave yet. I felt stuck in the orbit of the place where I had grown up, unable to break free of the tug of home. Every morning I told myself that this was it, the day I would leave, and then I'd find a reason to stay.

  Yesterday, it had been Sky.

  Today? Well, today it looked like rain. It was a piss-poor excuse, but I grabbed on to it anyway. Who wants to drive to a new life in a rainstorm? Not me.

  I hurried along the road, waiting to feel the wet smack of raindrops on my face. That'd be a sign I’d made the right decision by staying.

  The campground was set up in a series of concentric circles. My trailer sat out on the far edge, closest to the wall of pines that formed the border. Dirt roads, like spokes on a wheel, crossed over the circles at regular intervals. They all lead to the center buildings. A lounge that, as far as I could tell, no one had used since 1972. A laundry facility. The office building. And an general store of sorts. That was where I headed now.

  The summer renters had all packed up their monstrous RVs and headed back home. I knew they’d be gone by now. It was why I chose to leave when I did. It would have been a special kind of hell to be in the middle of all happy vacationers.

  Now the mostly empty camp was home to a different kind of camper. Desperate, weird loners just passing through.

  Like me.

  I vaulted up onto the front step of the camp store. It was half stocked with useful provisions, half with tatty tourist crap. I immediately headed over to the useful p
art.

  The woman behind the counter slid off her stool as I approached. She was the owner, near as I could tell. She wore a pink sweatshirt printed with cartoon flowers. Her graying hair was scraped back from her face and tucked into her collar.

  And even though I’d been in here four separate times since moving in, I hadn't noticed she did that with her hair until just now.