Keeping Secrets

by Treasure Hernandez

  “Thanks for everything,” Secret told Shawndiece as Lucky opened her door for her.

  “Have fun.” Shawndiece kissed Secret on the cheek and then hopped out of the car.

  Shawndiece headed up the steps where she was greeted by all the people on the porch with high fives, hugs, and “what up’s.”

  “So you ready to ride?” Lucky asked Secret as he parked himself back in the driver’s seat and closed the door.

  “Yep, all ready,” Secret lied. She was far from ready. She was as nervous as all get-out. She really wanted for him to let her out of the car so she could run and get some last minute advice from Shawndiece. But it was too late. Lucky pulled off. Now she was all on her own.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Wow! This place is soooooo cute,” Secret said as she stepped into the dining area. When they’d first pulled up to what looked like a house, a big house, almost mansion-like, she was a little skeptical. Shawndiece had pounded it in her head that she was only to go to a public place with him. No stopping off over one of his boys’ house so he could pick up something; none of that okey-doke. Shawndiece had warned her and given her scenarios to so much bad stuff that could happen.

  “It’s this li’l bed and breakfast–type spot I stumbled on once upon a time,” Lucky had told Secret, which had relaxed her and enabled her to allow Lucky to escort her from the car into the facility.

  Secret found the décor to be exquisite.

  “Yeah, I figured you’d like it,” Lucky said, all but patting himself on the back. “It takes a special kind of girl to appreciate this type of thing.” He looked around, admiring the not-too-fancy, but classy décor. The room could seat about twenty parties. It had a high ceiling with a chandelier hanging over each table that one might find in a middle-class home dining room. The tables were draped in white linen. The tables alternated with having a candle as a centerpiece or a flower in a crystal vase. The chairs were high back with a white cushion seat. The floors were hardwood, but each table was set upon a round white and gold rug that from a distance made it look as though each table was floating on a lily pad in a pond. It was darling and sophisticated; something Lucky figured a regular hood chick would think was corny and whack. He figured they’d prefer some expensive steak and lobster joint with a crowd for them to be seen.

  “So, I’m special?” Secret asked.

  “Huh,” Lucky stammered.

  “You said it takes a special kind of girl to appreciate this type of thing. So does that mean I’m special?” Secret stood there with her hands clasped in front of her, blushing and looking pure and innocent.

  “Girl, you know you’re special,” Lucky answered. “You don’t need me to tell you that. You’re not like any of the other girls from these parts. As a matter of fact, are you from here?”

  Before Secret could answer, a little blond-haired white woman, who appeared to be around her mid-forties, approached the couple. “Ahhhh, you must be our Lucky couple,” the woman greeted.

  “Yep, that’s us, the Lucky couple,” Lucky replied.

  “I thought it was just way too cute when our receptionist told us someone had called and reserved the entire dining room for tonight for just two people. And when I asked her the lucky couple’s name, she replied, ‘Lucky.’” The woman was cracking herself up as she held her stomach with laughter. “‘What a lucky couple,’ I told her . . . no pun intended.” The woman lightly elbowed Lucky on the arm and bent over laughing.

  Secret looked at Lucky and couldn’t help but be amused by the woman’s antics.

  “Ahhh, anyway,” the woman said, getting herself together. “I’m Brook, part owner. My partner, Casey, who happens to be my real-life partner, and I have been running this place for the past three years now. We’d like to say it’s one of Michigan’s best kept secrets.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Secret admitted, “but it is indeed a beautiful place you have here.”

  “Well, thank you. But tonight, this place belongs to you. Just you. Now let me show you to your table.” Brook escorted Lucky and Secret to a table that was smack in the center of the room that donned a flower in a vase as its centerpiece. “My cousin Dustin, who is your own personal chef, will be out momentarily with your parade of delicacies. I do hope you will enjoy.” Brook did a slight bow and exited the room.

  The table was round and large enough to seat six. Lucky pulled out a chair for Secret and assisted her in sitting. He then sat in the chair directly to her right.

  “How are they going to begin bringing our food out when they haven’t even shown us a menu and taken our orders?” Secret leaned in and whispered to Lucky as if the room had other patrons and she didn’t want anyone to hear her.

  “Because I took the liberty of ordering all the chef’s specials in advance,” Lucky informed her. “I know how chicks be acting on first dates, just trying to order salads and not eat. Well, I beat you to the punch. So much food is about to start coming to this table, you’re not going to be able to resist eating.”

  “The sir is correct,” a man wearing a white chef suit and hat said as he wheeled a cart of food over to their table. “But first allow your palate to be whetted by our best house wine.” The chef set a wineglass in front of each of them. He then pulled a bottle out of a glass ice-filled bucket and filled their glasses halfway. He then placed the ice bucket next to the vase.

  Next the chef laid out four different appetizers that he named and described. “I’ll give you two a few moments to indulge before I return with round two.” He winked and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Lucky picked up his glass. “Shall we toast?”

  Secret stared at her glass, not bothering to pick it up.

  “What’s wrong? You don’t like red wine. I can have him bring out white.” Lucky immediately began calling for the chef. “Hey—”

  “No, no, Lucky, it’s not that.” Secret stopped him.

  “Then what is it?”

  “Uh, I’m not old enough to drink. I’m only eighteen.”

  Lucky let out air between his lips and shooed his hand. “Oh, is that it?” Most people he knew had been drinking since middle school, so that wasn’t a big deal to Lucky. “These mutherfuckers don’t care how old you are as long as I pay the bill. They ain’t trying to card nobody or nothing.” He raised his glass again.

  Secret was still resistant.

  “What?”

  “I . . . I don’t drink.” Not only didn’t Secret drink, but she didn’t want to start now that she was with child.

  “Oh, snaps. I didn’t know. I didn’t even ask. My bad.” Lucky wasn’t used to this. All the girls he knew had been drinking since before half of them had even started their periods. He put his glass down.

  “Please, you go ahead and drink up. Don’t mind me. I’ll just have—”

  “Water. I forgot to bring your water out,” the chef said. He was right on time as he held out two glasses of ice water with a slice of lemon and lime in each. “Please don’t hold that against me.”

  “Thank you,” Lucky said. “You’re right on time actually.”

  The chef bowed and then once again disappeared.

  “Okay, so now we can toast.” Lucky once again lifted his glass of wine.

  Secret lifted her glass of ice water. “So what do you want to toast to?”

  Lucky thought for a moment. “To getting to know you better.”

  “Ditto,” Secret said as the two clinked their glasses and then took sips of their drinks.

  “So, uhhh, like I was saying before, are you from here?” Lucky asked Secret.

  “Yep, born and raised,” she told him, picking up one of the appetizers. She couldn’t remember exactly what the chef had said it was, but to her, it was like an oval piece of mini garlic toast with tomato, cheese and some other herbs. She took a bite. She chewed and swallowed then added, “But I didn’t always live in Flint.”

  Secret proceeded to tell Lucky about herself, how she’d lived with he
r grandmother, her grandmother passing, et cetera. She found herself going on and on. The chef had come and gone about two or three more time with different choices of entrees each time. They’d sampled salads, soups, seafood, beef, chicken, and pastas. The chef had even whipped up a couple of nonalcoholic delights for Secret to indulge in upon Lucky’s request.

  By the time the chef brought out an array of desserts, three hours had passed and Secret had done most of the talking. She’d shared about her estranged relationship with her father, of course leaving out the details of her last visit with him. By the time they walked out of the bed and breakfast, they’d worked up a $1,500 tab, and that was on top of the fee he had to pay for reserving the dining room. They each felt like they’d gained five pounds. In addition, Lucky felt like he’d known Secret for the better part of her life, seeing she’d shared so much about herself with him.

  “So did you enjoy yourself?” Lucky asked Secret as they walked down the walkway of the bed and breakfast and approached his truck.

  “Oh, my God, did I ever.” Secret’s eyes lit up. “For a first date ever, what more could a girl ask for?”

  Lucky was about to open the door for Secret but then he paused. “You mean your first date with me.”

  Uh-oh, Secret thought. Shawndiece had spent so much time working with her so that she didn’t come across as the rookie she was, and now here she’d gone off and spat the truth in spite of it all. “Uh, well.”

  Lucky turned Secret to face him. “You mean, no guy has ever taken you out on a date before?” He waited for a response that he never got. “Niggas can be such lames. All they wanna do is sit up with a chick but don’t ever wanna spend money and take her out some place nice. Don’t worry, sweetheart. You used to them young and dumb high school niggas who don’t know how to date. You got you a real man now, so get prepared for more nights like this,” Lucky told her, opening the door for her.

  Secret only hoped he hadn’t heard the huge gust of air she’d exhaled. He didn’t think that she was some inexperienced pushover. He just thought she’d been with some lame, immature dudes who didn’t know how to take a woman out. Shawdiece’s efforts and teachings were not in vain after all.

  Secret climbed up into her seat. She got nice and settled then realized Lucky was standing there just holding the door, staring at her. “What?” she asked.

  He just shook his head. “I have no idea. I just got this feeling about you, girl.”

  “Oh yeah,” Secret said in a sassy manner, bobbing her head on her shoulders. “Well, I got a feeling about you too, Mr. Lucky.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what’s that feeling?” he asked.

  Secret thought for a moment. “That you really are going to be the right one.” Secret didn’t know much about Lucky. She didn’t even have other guys to compare him with. But her instincts told her that he would be an excellent provider for her unborn baby.

  “I feel that,” Lucky said as he went to close the door.

  Secret held her hand out. “Wait, you didn’t tell me what feeling you have about me.” Secret waited while Lucky stared into her eyes.

  “I’m feeling like you the one I been trying to avoid.”

  That wasn’t remotely close to what Secret was trying to hear. A frown covered her face to reflect her reaction to his response.

  “No, no, I don’t mean it like that,” Lucky said. “I mean, keeping it real; I’ve kicked it with quite a few females. I love the female species. But I like to sample a lot of different flavors, as you can see by the menu I had arranged for us.”

  Secret nodded, still waiting for Lucky to make his point.

  “I never wanted to be that dude who finds this one flavor he really likes, get hooked on it, and then lose his appetite for all the other tasty flavors out there. You know what I’m saying?”

  “Yeah, I think I do.” Secret turned her legs out of the car then used her index finger to signal Lucky to come in close.

  He quickly looked to the side, licked his lips, smiled, then moved in close to Secret.

  She immediately planted a soft, gentle kiss on his lips. She slowly slipped her tongue into his mouth. Before he could get into it and put his tongue to work, Secret pulled away. She then turned herself completely back in the vehicle, rested her hands on her knees, and looked straight ahead.

  Lucky just stood there in a daze almost. It was almost like the roles were reversed. He was Snow White and had bitten the poisoned apple. Now here Secret had come along to kiss him on the lips and bring him back to life.

  “What are you waiting for?” she turned and asked him. “You can take me home now.”

  “Are you serious? You just gon’ pretend like you didn’t just . . . I mean, what was all that for?”

  “What? Oh, you mean the kiss?” Secret played dumb. “Well that was just in case after tonight you decide you want to go dip your spoon into some other scoops of ice cream. I at least wanted you to have the aftertaste of my flavor to reminisce about.” Secret faced forward again and waited for Lucky to close the door.

  He ultimately did, but before he did he said, “You know what, Secret? Something tells me you’re the cure to my sweet tooth.” He closed the door and then did a light jog around the car to the driver side.

  Secret looked down at her stomach, then said to her unborn child, “Looks like Mommy has found you a daddy.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You think just ’cause you eighteen and about to be a mama that you can come up in this motherfucker any time of night?” Yolanda spat as she sat on the couch watching television and smoking a cigarette.

  “Ma, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was this late,” Secret said as she entered the house, closing the door behind her. It was almost two in the morning. Secret had never officially had a curfew because she never really went anywhere. She didn’t even think about how her mother would react to her coming in at this kind of hour.

  After Lucky had dropped Secret back off over Shawdiece’s house, Shawndiece insisted Secret tell her every single detail about their date. Before Secret knew it, it was quarter to two in the morning. Shawdiece’s mother had allowed her to borrow her car to take Secret home. Secret knew it was late but figured since she almost never went anywhere and never came in late, her mother wouldn’t trip too much harder. On top of that, she was eighteen.

  “Shawndiece and I went to the movies and then we went back to her house to talk about it and just got caught up.” Secret couldn’t believe how quickly that lie made its way between her lips. But more so, she couldn’t believe how easy it came out. Being pregnant, forced into full-fledged adulthood, left Secret with little choice but to change. She not only had herself to look out for, but in a few months she’d have a little one to look out for as well.

  As Secret stood there, she literally prayed to God that her mother would not ask her what movie the two had gone to see. She was quick on her feet, but not that quick.

  “So you went to the movies with Shawndiece, huh?” her mother asked, slicing every inch of her with her eyes. “Shoulda known you was with that whore of a friend of yours. Now she even got you dressing like a whore. And since when can yo’ ass walk in heels?”

  Secret looked down at her shoes. “They’re wedges.”

  “Heels, wedges, bitch, you know what the fuck I’m talking about. You always trying to prove to somebody how smart you are. Well, obviously there’s somebody smarter than you: the motherfucker who got that scholarship over yo’ ass.” Yolanda burst out laughing so hard she began to choke on her cigarette smoke.

  “Fuck you.”

  Surely her mother had said those words because there is no way Secret had said them. She was thinking them, but no way under the sun could she have ever allowed them to slither from her brain, from her throat, and out of her mouth into her mother’s ears. But by the way the world stopped spinning and her mother stared at her, it was obvious the words had somehow managed to escape into the un
iverse.

  “What the fuck you say?” Yolanda stood, adjusting her bra strap.

  “I, uh, didn’t mean to say it,” Secret said, her heart beating so loud she was surprised she could hear her mother’s voice over the continuous thump.

  “Oh, don’t be no punk now. Sure you meant to say the shit, else it wouldn’t have come out your muthafuckin’ throat.” Yolanda began walking toward Secret. “You done got some dick up in you and think you the shit now. Dressed like you the shit. Talking like you the shit. Oh you just a bad, grown-ass bitch now, huh?” Yolanda dipped back and then stood erect again.

  “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it.” As Yolanda closed in on Secret, she knew her mother was right. Being a punk wasn’t about to get her anywhere. She’d said it and now she needed to own it. “I mean it; I just didn’t mean to say it out loud because I never want to disrespect you.”

  “Bitch, you done already disrespected me by galanting in my house any time of night like you pay the bills.”

  “Gallivanting,” Secret said under her breath.

  “What?” Yolanda did a double take at her daughter.

  “I think you meant to say the word ‘gallivanting.’ But I know what you meant,” Secret tried to clean it up.

  “I guess you saying to yourself, ‘I know she ’bout to come bust me in my muthafuckin’ mouth, so I might as well talk shit and give her something to really fuck me up over.’” Yolanda punched Secret in her mouth so fast that the blood from Secret’s lip had already dripped to the floor before Secret even realized what happened.

  “Mommy!” Secret yelled out in complete shock. She placed her hands over her mouth as her eyes filled with tears from the pain. Secret had become used to Yolanda’s verbal abuse and being knocked upside the head every now and then. But her mother going to extremes and getting physical with her like some stranger on the street stunned her heart.