Inner Secrets

by Suzie Carr

  “Of course not,” Rachel said.

  PJ rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand. “This is just temporary and we have to do it with an open heart or else it’s not going to help any of us.”

  “I can’t look her in the eye, yet. I’m just disappointed in how she handled it all.”

  This slap of truth stung, searing my face like frostbite. I slid backwards, chilled in humility. I scurried on back to my bedroom, tea-less and lonely.

  For two days, I managed to avoid the girls. I needed to sort through the new piles of disarray, organize them into something I could understand and interpret, and into something I could eventually confront.

  Until then, I couldn’t shackle them to my mistakes, too. I needed a new view, a new chance at redemption.

  I called Lucy.

  “Hey you,” I said when she picked up. “Know who this is?”

  “I know exactly who this is.” Her voice rose. “Has the place fallen apart, yet?”

  I could hear her smiling. I pictured her wearing a flowing skirt; one leg crossed over the other, bouncing to a happy beat, her twirling a piece of her hair. “It’s not the same.”

  “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I’m interested.”

  Silence.

  “In the room,” I added.

  She chuckled. “Of course. Okay. So, you’re interested.” Her voice trailed off.

  “Is it still available?”

  “Yeah, of course. At least, I’m pretty sure it is. Can I call you back in an hour and let you know for sure?”

  “Sure,” I said, beat down slightly by this flip in certainty.

  I stewed for several long minutes, fretting more on her lack of pounce than where I’d be living. She cut the agony short by fifty minutes. I answered the call on one ring. “So, what’ll it be?”

  “Come by tonight and check out the place. Everyone should be here.”

  “So,” I dragged out. “It’s still available?”

  “Yes! Yes, of course! They’re all super excited to meet you.”

  My heart bucked with renewed gusto. “I’ll be there.”

  ~

  Shortly after talking to Lucy, PJ knocked on my door. She sat me down the same way my mother did the day she asked me if I wanted to wear a training bra. She even patted my bed, urging me to take a seat next to her

  “So, Rachel and I were talking and I wanted to see if I could discuss something with you?”

  I searched her face for hate, for disgust, for pity. All I found was my best friend PJ. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I was hoping we could talk about your plans and how long you think you’ll need to stay.” She winced on her last word.

  “That won’t be necessary.” My voice shook, perpetuated by the hard notion that I had to move on with my life if I was ever going to get past this dreadful path. “I found a new place.”

  “You did?” Her entire face brightened with a hope I hadn’t seen since I trampled into their front door with my belongings in tow.

  “I did.” I lied so well. They deserved their shot at a peaceful life uncluttered and untainted by my actions. “I know you need your privacy, and you deserve it. Besides, you’re getting ready to start a family and probably want to pick out colors and furniture for this room.”

  She stared straight into my eyes. “You don’t have to go just yet.”

  “The two of you are cramping my style,” I teased.

  “We’re so sorry for getting in your way. We’re just a couple of anal girls.”

  I laughed.

  She punched my arm. “I love the shit out of you.”

  The magnitude of my actions hit me. Regardless of what she said, I was tainted in the eyes of my best friend. No doubt, she saw a selfish girl with no self-control and no respect for love. “Likewise.” I folded my lower lip into my mouth to keep my chin from wavering out of control.

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “Lucy’s.” I said this with a straight face, as though I’d already signed the papers.

  She placed her hand on my shoulder, arched her eye at me. “Lucy’s?”

  I nodded. “Yup.” I would not let her talk me out of this.

  “Well,” she shrugged. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

  The sparkle in her eye pierced my safety and deflated it in a matter of nanoseconds. Standing knee deep in the muck of uncertainty, I did my best to relay confidence. “Yes, I do. I’m ready to move on.”

  “You’re going to be fine out there. Just keep your wits.” She ran her fingers through my hair, like I deserved the rights to her heart, to her friendship, to her forgiveness for putting Rachel in a weird position through all of this.

  “Do you think Ryan will be all right?” I asked, treading with care.

  “I was wondering when you would bring him up.”

  “I’ve been afraid to,” I said. “But I really need to know.”

  “He was banged up by it. After we talked, he looked better.”

  I pictured Ryan, sitting on their leather couch, arms tightened around his shallow chest, looking much like a sick, orphaned child with big tears running down his high cheeks, dispelling my obnoxious acts.

  “I feel so guilty.”

  She looked away and fretted with her fingers. She swallowed and her jaw flexed.

  “Do you think he’ll stay in Maryland or go off somewhere else now that I’m not holding him here?”

  “He doesn’t hate Maryland. He hates his job.”

  He could’ve escaped if I’d been more decent. “I screwed that up for him.”

  She nodded. “What’s done is done. He’s not really cut out to be a Texan anyway. A cowboy hat would swallow up his scrawny body.”

  I laughed. “What a sight.”

  We sat staring at each other, our laughter coming to a halt.

  “He’ll be alright, Hope.” She cradled my hand. “By the time he left that night he already started dreaming up his future as a business owner. He’ll focus on that and be just fine.”

  Shame engulfed me. He would go on without me and thrive, fueled by his anger of how I wronged him. “Don’t ever tell Rachel about kissing Tiffany. Being honest is not worth the hurt.”

  “Oh, I actually already told her about that after we talked about it that night. I felt horrible about it all that time and in one second, she cleared up all my guilt when she told me it was not a big deal.”

  Her virtue branded my culpability deeper. “She’s one lucky girl.”

  “I’m the lucky one.” We sat staring at our entwined hands. Her hand clammed around mine, claiming her top spot in our friendship. “So, how much longer do I get to spend with you?”

  “I’ll be out of your hair really soon.” I tousled her choppy layers.

  “You can stay as long as you need.”

  “We make better friends than roommates.” I stood up and shook off the dust of our roommate status. “But thank you. I know it took a lot for you to offer that to me.”

  She nodded, and twisted into a crooked smile. “We’re going to be fine, right?”

  “Of course.” I walked out of the room and straight into the bathroom leaving her to second guess the integrity of my response.

  ~

  After PJ left my room, I turned to the one confidant that never let me down – my trusted journal. I needed to unleash. I needed to unload some of the nerves flittering around in my belly. I needed a clear mind.

  I sat perched on my bed, opened her up, and spilled my guts.

  August 26

  Dear Journal, I’m scared shitless.

  What if I screw up? What if I show up at Lucy’s and everyone hates me? What if they start asking about my new relationship status? Do I lie and tell them I have a girlfriend so I can start off upfront and honest about who I am? What if they start to ask why Ryan and I split? Do I start off lying twice? What if they absolutely flat-out refuse to give me a room? What then? Rent a room at the motel down on Rou
te One? Sure, and then, maybe I’ll even become friendly with the other homeless tenants. We can start a softball team and call ourselves The Misfits. PJ would tell me I was just being ridiculous and that I should just waltz in there with my head high and charm my way into their lives. Well, I can’t keep relying on PJ to solve my issues. So, where does that leave me now?

  An hour later, showered and dressed in casual jeans and a fitted tee, I took off to Lucy’s. As I drove, my heart raced along with the engine, each fighting for the upper hand. My heart won. It idled high, so high it took my breath away. I almost missed the turn into the gated community. I pulled up to the intercom and buzzed Lucy. Five minutes later, I pulled into the governor-style driveway circling around the front of the house and parked in front of the second garage as instructed. I wanted to throw up. Then, I thought about Ryan, and realized that if I could tell my husband I was gay, I could certainly survive and excel at meeting a bunch of strangers and winning them over. I had to convince these people I was not a creep, criminal, or weirdo.

  So, with renewed spirit, I climbed out of my car and faced the night head on. That’s when Lucy popped on the scene. She ran towards me, her hair waved behind her like a beautiful scarf, silky, soft, and flowing. She hugged me and then welcomed me up the brick steps to the double door entrance. Once inside, she smiled, and asked me to take off my shoes and pile them up with the others.

  “We’ve got a blend of cultures, and some of them insisted this be the rule. It works nicely because we hardly ever have to vacuum.”

  I looked up at the heart-shaped staircase. Peace hugged me. The scent of freshly-baked bread danced in the air.

  I wanted this to be home.

  9:30 p.m.

  Dear Journal,

  I just got back from meeting my new roomies. Well, except for Adam. I didn’t get to meet him. He was writing. Odd, yes. Minor detail, though, compared to the great experience.

  At first, I freaked out when Lucy led me into the living room where they would interrogate me. But wrapped up in her sweet spring scent, I held my head up high, approached the gang plank, and walked it like my life depended on it. I indeed charmed my way into my new home, into my new pretty, yellow room with a vaulted ceiling.

  I can’t wait to cook meals with Reina, the round, pudgy roommate from India, and Hana, the small Korean woman who spoke in a whisper and smelled like chamomile tea. Ralph, the owner, intimidated me slightly with his burly build and deep voice. He eyed me quite a bit while I fell into chuckles with the girls. Then, I asked him a pointed question about how to begin a running plan, and he softened to putty.

  I am going to love this new life, and move in day will not get here fast enough. Most of all, I can’t wait to fall into comfortable small talk with Lucy and enjoy endless coffee breaks with her in one of the three living rooms that this mini-mansion housed. When I’m around her, I am safe and happy. I’ve got this feeling we’re going to end up great friends. She spoke about Adam in just about every other sentence, which was just fine with me. Better she’s committed to someone because now I can focus on our friendship and on taking this new life to a wonderful place instead of obsessing about her pretty eyes, her white teeth, the earthy way she smells. I‘m feeling good about all of this.

  Now, as I’m lying here in PJ and Rachel’s room writing this all out, I feel more stifled than ever, and more certain vacating their lives is the best decision.

  If I wasn’t so thrilled, I’d be mad at myself for wasting so much time locked in their world.

  One week to freedom.

  I can’t wait to get this new life started.

  XO

  Chapter Four

  LUCY

  Life as a student carried perks. For instance, I now had instant ten percent off discounts at nearly every business located within a ten mile radius of campus, which included the hair salon and the café I patronized. I also loved the campus environment, the rush of energy around the main quad and the nervous jitters and newfound freedom of incoming freshmen. But most of all, I loved my flexible schedule. At what other job could’ve I rolled out of bed at eight o’clock in the morning and hung out watching the entire “Today Show” over multiple steaming cups of coffee? Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed my new life.

  And it would only get better now that Hope was going to live with us.

  You would’ve thought a celebrity was moving in the way I prepared for Hope’s arrival. For days leading up to move in day, I ignored the pile of coursework on my desk and ventured to places like Walmart, Bed Bath and Beyond, and Pier One Imports in search of the cutest and most chic décor. I combed the aisles of every department store within a ten mile radius, digging through hand towels, shower curtains, and accessories, loading countless carts with bags and bags of fun, colorful, Hope-style items.

  I wanted her to step into her new room and love it.

  When Adam and I moved into ours a few years back, we couldn’t arrange the furniture for days because the walls needed repainting and the carpet needed replacing. We spent our first nights on an air mattress in the great room sandwiched between boxes and boxes of Ralph’s ex’s stuff, each box labeled with a giant ‘FU.’

  I wanted to run from the house and its darkness back then. It took a few months and a lot of love to tidy the place up and create a home out of it. I wanted that sense of home and hearth to swaddle Hope in a hold so comforting she’d never think to run the way I did.

  I really hoped the gang liked her as much as I did. The last time we interviewed someone for the room, it didn’t go so well. Hana had suggested a graduate student from school. I had baked cookies for her arrival. Ralph even helped polish the living room furniture. Reina rearranged her work schedule and almost got fired as a result. We waited patiently for the arrival of our potential new roommate. And then, Hana walked through the front door solo, crying, telling us the girl never showed up at the college to meet her. Ralph, irked that he canceled a client for that meeting, steamed out, slamming the front door. I spent the next hour convincing Hana that shit happened.

  Since then, I’ve met a few potentials that could’ve been suitable. But I never arranged the meeting, never brought up to them that I knew of a great room for rent. I didn’t want to stir that pot of conflict into my life. None of them seemed worthy to trust. My luck, we would’ve agreed to rent it to someone I met at book club or through a friend and they would’ve turned out to be a thief or messy or loud.

  I trusted Hope was none of these things when I first told her about the room. I just couldn’t believe she actually called and took me up on the offer. I seriously wanted to set off through the house in a series of flips. Then entered the challenge to convince the others to consider her. No one warmed up easily to the idea of bonding with a new person. Everyone liked the status quo. We knew each other’s quirks, habits, likes, dislikes. We divided up chores and for the most part all worked together nicely on this. A new person meant new boundaries, new rules, new to-do lists, and shifts in the way we hung out. It was a fact that adding another personality into the mix could spell disaster and change the entire dynamic. By suggesting Hope, I was opening up a potential rift in our comfort zone, the place we all called home. But, she was so worth the risk.

  I honestly didn’t think she’d take me up on the offer. I had tossed it out to her as a flirt, as a mechanism to show her I liked her. So, when she called me and told me she wanted to come and check it out, I wasn’t prepared. I needed to gather consensus.

  They drilled me of course, and I told them the truth. She was recently separated, worked hard, oh, and she might be a lesbian.

  Ralph hesitated first asking if she’d left him for another girl. I told him she was not a cheat like his ex and that her husband kicked her out. Despite his rough exterior, Ralph did have a soft heart. He agreed to interview her, but told me if he found out she was a cheat like his ex, she’d be on the curb faster than she could blink. I jabbed his tummy playfully and told him to be nice to her when she arrived.

>   I knew they would adore Hope as much as I did.

  And, did they ever.

  When she left, Reina carried on about her sweet and playful aura and how she just knew they’d become cooking buddies. Hana thought she was kind and would be pleasant to have around. Ralph, despite the fact that he acted tough and challenged her with his questions about her lifestyle and interests, couldn’t stop talking about how sexy she was and how he could totally shape her beautiful body into a fortress with free weights. And Adam, well he missed out and would have to wait until move in day to meet the girl who stole our hearts.

  I busied myself with her arrival. I brought Hana along on some of my shopping adventures. On our way out of Walmart one day, she kept urging me to stop buying so much because she didn’t have any money to contribute.

  “No worries,” I told her. “I just picked up a couple of extra things for the bathroom.”

  “But, I already have plenty of towels and soap. I don’t mind sharing them with her.”

  Hana’s bathroom epitomized non-descript. White towels hung from a steel bar, a white liner blended into the shower, and a plain, round bath mat covered the white tiled floor. Her only “decoration” was a plastic toothbrush holder, which was—you guessed it—white.

  “Seriously.” I forced a serious tone. “No worries.”

  And that quieted her.

  When we arrived back home, she followed me into the shared bathroom. “I’ll start scrubbing the shower.”

  I wanted this to be perfect. “No. I want to do this. Let me do this for you and Hope. Call it my thank you gift for being a great roommate and a welcome gift for her.”

  She nodded, giggled like a nervous schoolgirl and wiggled off down the hall saying something about preparing for one of her elementary education classes.

  I’d never been so thrilled to clean a toilet before. I scrubbed it until I could see my reflection. I plopped one of those little blue squares into the back of it and flushed. The bowl filled up with sparkly water.