The Perfect Secret

by Rob Buyea

  I stopped talking. I had accomplished what I wanted. So why was I feeling bad?

  After Kurtsman’s special report and TV interview, things changed. There was still whispering about me and Mom, and there were stares, but it was different. More people were talking about Holmes now. I appreciated that Kurtsman was trying to help, but she was no Super Bowl MVP. None of this won the game and brought Mom home. Whispers or not, my mom was all I could think about—all through school and after. And especially at night. There was no escape.

  Dad was busy working long hours ’cause now he was the only one earning money for us. We’d become what they call a single-income household. That meant it was up to me to get home after school so someone was there for Meggie when she got off the bus, which also meant missing Magenta’s program, on top of everything else—but it didn’t matter. Even talking football with Coach wasn’t gonna make me forget Mom.

  So in the afternoons it was me and Megs—and Otis. That dumb dog’s special talent was being a royal pain in the you-know-what, but by running that play he always made sure we weren’t sitting around, moping and feeling sorry for ourselves.

  If me and Megs played Monopoly, the dog would grab our money or the dice and run, so we’d have to chase him. If it was cards, he’d grab those and run. Otis was so darn big, he could grab things right off the table. Then he’d barrel his way through the house. It was a miracle that he’d only broken one lamp so far.

  Me and Megs dealt with Otis, and we played our games and counted our way around the boards, but it was the days until Mom’s court date that we were really counting. I’d thought waiting for football to start was hard. That was nothing compared to this. I’d thought losing a stupid game was something I could never smile about. That was nothing compared to what I might lose now.

  It was torture, and I’m pretty sure time did crawl, but the week of Mom’s court case finally did arrive. When Mrs. Kurtsman showed up at our house without Mom, my stomach dropped. I feared the worst. But the news she gave us was not anything we’d been expecting. Mrs. Kurtsman came to tell us that the immigration judge assigned to Mom’s case was sick, down and out with kidney stones.

  “What’s that?” Meggie asked.

  “The guy has little stones in his bladder that he has to pee out,” I grumbled.

  “Does that hurt?” Megs asked next.

  “I’ve heard it’s the closest thing a man can experience to deliverin’ a baby,” Dad answered.

  “Oh,” Meggie said.

  “What’s this mean for Carla’s case?” Dad asked Mrs. Kurtsman. “How long do you expect the judge’ll be out?”

  “I can’t say. Hopefully, it won’t be too long. But they won’t reschedule Carla’s date until he returns.”

  Meggie and Otis got up from the table and walked into the living room. I stayed with Mrs. Kurtsman and Dad, but I was done listening at that point. Was I ever getting my mom back? She’d been gone for almost four weeks now. The longer this dragged on, the more the community seemed to forget about her—everybody except for us.

  “Can me and Meggie see her?” I asked. We hadn’t seen Mom since she’d been taken. With Dad working extra-long hours and her being more than two hundred miles away, it had been too hard to figure out a visit. I knew it’d be impossible to arrange a way for me to go without Megs, so I asked for both of us. It was worth a shot.

  Mrs. Kurtsman turned to my father, but he didn’t say anything. He wore the same glossed-over look that I’d seen on Coach so many times. “Gavin, I don’t think that would be a good idea for Meggie,” she said. “She’s handling this remarkably well, and I’d hate to disrupt that by taking her to see your mother in a federal detention center. That is not a glamorous place.”

  I nodded. It was true Megs was doing great. Probably ’cause she was convinced Mom would be coming home soon. I wished I could be positive like that.

  “Hang in there, Gavin. It’ll be over soon.”

  “One way or another,” I said. I pushed my chair back and went to check on Megs. I found her sprawled out on the floor, coloring a picture she’d drawn.

  “Whatcha doing?” I asked.

  “Making a card for Mommy’s judge,” she said. “Knocking down fences by being nice. Remember, Gavvy?”

  Even with everything else that was going on, Megs made me smile. That was her superpower. Leave it to her to think of somebody else, even in a time like this. I wished all people could be as nice as my little sister.

  It was our first trip to the Senior Center since Natalie’s story had hit the news, and as you’d expect, Eddie and Agnes had plenty to say about the situation.

  “Here she is, our very own Angela Lansbury,” Eddie started in as soon as we sat down.

  Angela Lansbury? I’d heard of Nancy Drew, but who was Angela Lansbury?

  “Who’s that?” Natalie asked, beating me to it.

  “Who’s that!” Eddie shrieked, getting excited. “She’s the star on Murder, She Wrote. Agnes and I have been watching those old episodes ever since your boyfriend got us that fancy TV.”

  “Excuse me. Trevor’s not my boyfriend,” Natalie clarified. “Thank you very much.” Her neck and ears were turning red.

  “You need to play more poker,” Eddie suggested. “You’re not very good at bluffing. I saw the way you two were looking at each other. You’re not fooling fast Eddie.”

  “Ugh,” Natalie groaned, growing increasingly flustered. I’d seen Natalie keep her composure during the toughest times, but Eddie had her rattled just by mentioning Trevor. Wow, she had it worse than I’d thought.

  “Leave her alone, Eddie,” Agnes scolded. “She’s been through a lot.”

  Eddie winked at me, and I snorted.

  “How’re you feeling about things, Natalie?” Agnes asked. “You’re on quite the roll. First you help Pearl and Olivia, and then you catch Bad Man Holmes red-handed.”

  “Bad Man Holmes is innocent until proven guilty,” Natalie the lawyer reminded us, “and I’m not feeling particularly great. I’m thrilled about Mrs. Magenta and Mrs. Woods, but I haven’t done much to help Carla Davids. In fact, the only thing I’ve managed to do is create a mess for a different family.”

  “You didn’t create the mess for Mr. Holmes and his family,” Agnes said. “He did that on his own.”

  “Let’s talk about something happy,” Eddie suggested. “Agnes, go ahead and tell them what we’ve been thinking about.”

  What they’d been thinking about? These two had a plan? Uh-oh.

  “You’re right,” Agnes said. “We should tell them.” She straightened in her chair and leaned forward, placing her hands on the table. “Did you know Eddie and I have coffee with Pearl and Olivia almost every morning now? I’ve got to tell you, it’s so nice having those two together. Coach is happy as a bee in honey. That old man might get confused, but he knows.”

  Natalie and I smiled.

  “We have fun visiting,” Agnes continued. “Pearl and Olivia are good at sharing stories and keeping us in the loop.”

  “Gossip,” Eddie said, telling it like it was.

  We chuckled.

  “Well, after Christmas, Pearl and Olivia had plenty to tell us about Carla and Michael Davids getting hitched,” Agnes went on. “What a surprise that was! They thought it was beautiful.”

  “We met Mr. Magenta there,” Natalie mentioned.

  “Oh, we’ve had the pleasure of meeting him, too,” Agnes replied. “Now, he’s a fella who’s easy on the eyes. Don’t you agree?”

  I giggled. Agnes never talked like that, but she was right.

  “So we got to talking about weddings and such,” Eddie took over, too excited to wait. “And I mentioned to Agnes about how I’d seen some story about renewing vows on Good Morning America. I’m telling you, if you ever want the world to know something, put it on that show. Appar
ently, renewing vows is a popular thing to do these days.”

  “I’ve heard about it,” I said.

  Eddie leaned forward and said this next part in a hushed voice. “We’ve decided that having Coach and Pearl renew their vows would be a great thing. We think it would help Coach.”

  My eyes grew wide. I looked at Natalie, and she had the same expression.

  “That does sound like a great idea,” Natalie said.

  “We’re not just two old biddies, you know,” Agnes said, sitting back in her chair, smiling.

  “When should we do it?” Natalie asked. “Have you already talked to Mrs. Woods and Coach and Mrs. Magenta?”

  “Talked to us about what?” Mrs. Magenta asked. She was making the rounds and had come to check on our group at just the right time. Natalie had her sit down. When we got done explaining, Mrs. Magenta looked lost.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her. She was totally zoned out. “Mrs. Magenta?” I touched her arm.

  “What? Oh, sorry,” she murmured. “I was just thinking. Usually parents watch their children get married, but it’ll be nice for me to see Mom and Dad renewing their vows. It’s a splendid idea.”

  “Your parents missed your wedding, didn’t they?” Natalie said.

  “Yes, unfortunately. I invited them. It was going to be my first time seeing them since I’d left home, but they didn’t make it. Dad had suffered a stroke, which was the onset of his problems, and they didn’t want me to see him like that, not on my special day. They never told me, because Dad didn’t want me worrying. He was supposed to get better, but that’s not how these things work sometimes.”

  “I thought you came back because of him,” I said. “If you never knew, why did you?”

  Mrs. Magenta paused. Eddie and Agnes reached across the table and each took one of her hands. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t easy.

  “You don’t have to tell us,” I said. I felt bad for asking.

  “It’s okay,” Mrs. Magenta whispered. “Matthew and I moved back to town after I had a miscarriage. It was late in my pregnancy, and we were heartbroken. It was then that I began to understand how much my mother had lost and was suffering. I wanted to be near her again, to start over, but when I got here, I discovered what was going on with Dad. I was so angry with her for not telling me that our silence never stopped. I only stayed for Dad.”

  I glanced at Natalie and saw that her eyes were wet like mine. I glanced at Eddie and Agnes. They gave me a slight smile. Now I understood why they hadn’t wanted to tell Natalie and me everything. There was so much.

  “Mrs. Magenta, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Natalie said. “I’m sorry about your brother and baby and everything you’ve had to go through.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “Thank you, girls.”

  There was a brief moment of quiet, until Eddie came up with the perfect idea. “I’ve got it,” she said, slapping her hand on the table. “Olivia, you and your hubby need to renew your vows alongside your mother and father.”

  My face broke into an instant smile.

  “Matthew and me?” Mrs. Magenta asked.

  “Yes!” Eddie exclaimed.

  “Yes!” Natalie and I repeated.

  “Edna, don’t let this go to your head, but that’s about the best idea I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” Agnes said. “What do you say, Olivia?”

  Mrs. Magenta shrugged.

  “Great,” Eddie said. “It’s final, then. We’ll fill Pearl in the next time we have coffee. Now let’s get started. There’s no time to waste. We’ve got us a joint ceremony to plan.”

  And just like that, Eddie’s perfect idea was set in motion. By the time we had to leave, Natalie and I were way beyond feeling sad. We were giddy with excitement because we had something double special to look forward to.

  The cheerleaders were using the gym after school to get ready for their big February competition, so we had a later practice time. Brian picked me up at home, and then we were going to grab Mark. Before we did, and before Mark could start busting on me nonstop with his relentless jokes about how I was in love with Kurtsman, I was glad to have Brian all to myself. This was my chance. A big brother was supposed to be there to give you advice. We were still feeling our way to being brothers, but I was getting comfortable around Brian. He was no Romeo, but he knew more about girls than Mark and me combined.

  “What do you do when there’s a girl that you like?” I asked, staring straight ahead, trying to play it cool.

  “What did you just ask me?”

  “You heard me. Don’t make me say it again.”

  Brian laughed. “Well, you grab her butt and plant a big one on her lips.”

  “Shut up! I’m being serious.”

  “My little bro, in love. How about that.”

  “You know what, forget I asked. You’re a jerk.”

  “Simmer down,” Brian said. “You’ve got to let me have a little fun. Who is it? Tell me about her and what’s happened so far.”

  “It’s Natalie. You might remember her from when we went to Gavin’s house on Christmas day.”

  “Oh yeah. Hey, she’s cute. How’d you pull that off?”

  I took a breath and kept talking. I told him everything, even though it sort of felt like nothing had really happened.

  “You’re flipping out over hand holding? You’ve got to chill, Trev. Don’t go getting all crazy, trying too hard, because then you’ll be moving too fast and mess everything up. That’ll freak her out, especially this girl, by the sounds of it. So relax.”

  We were going slow, and it was already freaking me out—never mind her. But I listened and nodded.

  “Maybe you should get her a little something for Valentine’s Day,” Brian said. “That’s coming up, you know.”

  “I thought you said go slow? Now you want me to get her a present?”

  “I didn’t say buy her a ring, doofus. Something small,” he emphasized. “If you do nothing, then it looks like you don’t really care. Something small, and you’re taking it slow and you care. It’s the perfect move.”

  I shrugged. I could do that. “So, what do I get her?”

  “Jeez, Trev! Do I need to do everything for you? I don’t know. Figure it out.”

  We pulled into Mark’s driveway, and that meant we were done talking about Natalie. But I wasn’t done thinking about her.

  Mark hopped in the back. “What’s up, losers.”

  Brian chuckled. “What’s up with you, pukeface.”

  I shook my head and laughed. With our greetings out of the way, Brian put the car into reverse and backed out of Mark’s driveway.

  “I’ve got one pit stop that I need to make before we go to practice,” Brian said.

  “Where?” I asked.

  “You’ll see. It’ll be quick.”

  I didn’t like his answer. Brian and Mark were yapping away about something they’d seen on SportsCenter, but I was quiet. I worried that Brian’s pit stop could mean trouble, and I had myself thinking bad things until we pulled into the elementary school and parked.

  “This is your pit stop?” Mark asked. “Kids Klub?”

  “Yeah. I’m doing some of my community service hours here. I need to go and see the person in charge real quick, so I know when I can start.”

  “Kids Klub!” Mark exclaimed. “Yo, Trev, remember those days?”

  “Yeah,” I grumbled. Kids Klub was an after-school program where little kids could go and hang out until their parents were able to pick them up. I remembered it well. I always hated it.

  “C’mon, dude. Let’s go check it out and see if it’s changed.”

  “I don’t care what you buttheads do,” Brian said, “but we’re gonna make this quick.”

  Mark was all about seeing if any of the counselors we’d
had were still there. I didn’t really care, but I went in because it beat sitting in the car.

  “Whoa,” Mark said. “That dude is still here.”

  I saw the guy he was talking about. He was older now, less hair, but I recognized him. “That was the one guy I liked,” I said.

  “Me too. He was always so cool. I can’t believe he’s still here.”

  “Maybe he likes the job.”

  “Let’s go say hi, see if he remembers us.”

  I was down with that, but then I spotted a little boy who was sitting by himself. The kid looked sad. “You can go say hi,” I said. “I’m going over here.” I left Mark and walked over to the kid. “You okay, little man?”

  He wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve and glowered at me with duck lips.

  I almost laughed, but I held it in. I sat down across from him. “I used to come here when I was your age,” I said.

  Bigger duck lips.

  “I hated it.”

  “I like Kids Klub,” he said. “I hate the older boys who pick on me.”

  “Where are they?” I asked, looking around, ready to take care of them.

  “They’re not here today.”

  I wasn’t buying that, but I didn’t push it. “Have you told anyone? Your teacher? The counselors? Your parents?”

  “I can’t,” he said.

  I nodded. I understood way more than this little boy realized—and way less than I realized.

  “Yo, Trev, let’s go!” Mark yelled.

  I stood. “Hang in there, little man. It’ll get better.”

  He shook his head and sniffed. He didn’t believe that—not one bit. I didn’t move. I wanted to find the right words for him, something to make him feel better. But Mark yanked me away before I had the chance.

  When you’re in kindergarten, Valentine’s is a special day. It’s a big deal to decorate paper bags or tissue boxes that will collect your silly cards, and an even bigger deal to go around passing your notes out.