Tell Me a Secret (6 page)

Jace stripped to his boxers, threw back the cover and climbed into bed. “Yeah, maybe.”

“What are you waiting on? You need to bang that thang before big brother does. You know she wants it.”

“No, I don’t. She doesn’t flirt with me like other girls. She’s all business even with those damn nasty mnemonics. When I flirt, she ignores it. She doesn’t realize I’m doing it. She teases me, but it isn’t seductive. It’s playful.”

“Hell, you mean like a puppy?”

“No, not like a puppy, you idiot. It’s innocent, friendly, you know, two good friends trying to always one-up the other. Why do I talk to you about this stuff? It’s clear you don’t have a clue. But you’re right. I need to make a move.”

He sat up and slung his feet to the floor. “Hell, we’ve been meeting for weeks and tonight, she finally talked when I brought up dancing. It’s time I raise the ante. I’m going to ask her out.”

He reached for his cell, and she answered on the second ring. “Hey, Magpie. What? Oh God, Maggie. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do? Are you sure? I could go with you. Okay, call me if you need me. Bye.”

He clicked off and let her words sink in. “Oh my God.”

“What was that?”
 

“Maggie’s mother—she died”

Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take toward the door we never open.

~ T. S. Eliot

Her mother’s elephant collection, trunks raised in a gentle curling fashion, lined the bookcase like merchandise at Wal-Mart. How ironic those two shelves of good luck figurines hadn’t changed her mother’s run of bad luck: An unwanted child. A string of failed marriages. An untimely death at forty-six.
 

When Maggie thought of how the obituary should read, she couldn’t help but laugh.
Audra Kay Fielding Shelton Wade Perry Garrison
. No, since her mother wasn’t married at the time of her death, she listed her as Audra Kay Fielding.

Maggie stood like stone, closed her eyes and pretended the house held wonderful memories. But it didn’t. No recollections of birthday parties, sleepovers, or family Christmases. No family photos. No bean or macaroni artwork. Before she could stop them, tears spilled and she was sixteen again, filled with all the loneliness she’d kept buried for years. Sobs retched from the deepest part of her soul.

She walked to the shelves, and one by one, grabbed the figurines and hurled them at the wall, the floor, the furniture, until only shattered pieces remained. She staggered to the sofa, lay down, and curled into a ball, and as darkness closed in, one question plagued her. Why did her mother keep her? Now, she’d never know.

Her heart pounded. Her stomach churned. Time passed with no significance. She didn’t remember going into the bathroom. But now she stood at the sink, splashed cold water on her face and gazed at the reflection in the mirror. Almost the image of her mother, barely five-foot-three and a hundred pounds, but her body never developed the voluptuous curves or full rounded breasts like her mother’s. Instead, she’d gotten her hair, which most of the time looked as if an explosion had occurred on top of her head.

She dried her face and stepped into the bedroom. Opening her bag, she removed the navy blue dress, and hung it on the closet door. Exhaustion overtook her. She lay across the bed and sleep came easily.

The day of the service, after the minister told the second lie about what a good person Audra was, Maggie tuned him out. She scanned the small crowd at the graveside ceremony and thought how strange, not an ex-husband in sight. At least Sarah and Sam were with her, and to her surprise, so was Jace. By five o’clock, the service ended. Maggie told everyone goodbye then returned to her mother’s house along with her study partner.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

He reached for her hand and held it. “I came because I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“It wasn’t necessary. I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She slid her hand free. “I lost her a long time ago.”

“Come on, let’s go inside. You look tired. Are you hungry? Sam, Sarah, and I ate on the way down here, but I could order a pizza.”
 

She unlocked the door and he held it open.

“No, I ate earlier. My feet hurt, so if you don’t mind, I want to get out of these shoes.”

He spied the broken glass. “What happened here?”

“Oh, I dropped them.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah.”

“Give me a broom and I’ll sweep them up while you change.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.”

Why is he here?
Pity, she guessed. She gave him the broom, then went to her bathroom. As she rummaged through her suitcase, she realized both tee shirts she’d brought had Jace’s name and number on them. For a moment she hesitated. What would he think? Don’t be silly. They were study partners and she was a fan, so it wouldn’t be natural to wear another player’s jersey. Grabbing a pair of black sweat pants, she pulled the Texas Tech tee shirt over her head. She tucked, untucked, and then re-tucked the shirt, and finally decided to let it hang loose. When she came from the bathroom, he lounged on her bed. A lump formed in her throat.

He lurched forward. “If it makes you uncomfortable for me to sit here, I’ll move.”

“No, don’t be silly,” she said, willing her voice not to quiver. She joined him and crossed her legs Indian style, grabbed a pillow, and put it in her lap.

He piled pillows against the headboard and relaxed his back against them. “Nice shirt. I hear that guy’s pretty good.”

The way he smiled made her heart flutter and even though she couldn’t work up a spit if she tried, she managed to say, “Yeah, he is.”

“On the drive down here today, it occurred to me, you’ve met my family, but I know nothing about yours or much about you.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t. I mean, you’re smart, you dance, you’re a nurse, but I don’t know about
you
. So tell me the whole Maggie Fielding story.”

“It isn’t nearly as interesting as the Jace Sloan saga.”

“I doubt that.”

Her heart slammed against her chest. He was the first boy—man, to ever be in her room, much less her bed. She reminded herself:
I’m not his type
. First she twirled a lock of hair around her finger, then dropped her hands into her lap and clasped them. Every movement seemed more awkward. Finally, she ran her palm over one of the pillows and smoothed the fabric. Swallowing hard, she began. “Well, I don’t know my father. I have no idea how he looks. My mother married four times but none of her husbands were my dad.”

“But at dinner the other night, you said he was out of the country.”

“I lied. But I thought it would be a better answer than I have no idea who he is. I wasn’t sure how your family might respond to that bit of news. I thought it would make everyone uncomfortable.”

She didn’t want to talk about her past, but he’d come all this way and he seemed genuinely interested. The truth was, she was glad to see him and that bothered her. As hard as she tried to fight the attraction, she failed.
 

“I don’t know if they had a relationship or a one night stand or maybe he was married and it was an affair. Mom didn’t talk about him. Ever.”

Jace eyed her as if he could read every thought. But since she’d started the story, she decided to finish. “I can guess your next question. You’re wondering why I’ve not searched for him, and I’ve considered it.” She couldn’t look at him any longer. The compassion in his eyes bore into her. She couldn’t remember ever having a man look at her that way. Bowing her head, she found a loose thread on the pillow and pulled at it. “But I lived in this same house all my life and there was never a birthday card, Christmas gift, phone call, nothing from him. I figured if he wanted to contact me, he knew where I was. Honestly, I was a mistake.”

“Don’t say that.”

She glanced at him, but couldn’t hold his gaze. His expression was true kindness, so different from the cocky demeanor she usually saw. She gave up on the thread and picked at her fingernail. “Why not? It’s probably true. I’m not trying to get sympathy. That’s life. It is what it is. We have to accept things for what they are, deal with them, and move on.”

“You don’t have a father listed on your birth certificate?”

She adjusted the pillow in her lap. God, she hated this part, but knew at some point Jace would want to know about her past. “Nope. It says unknown.”

“Were you close to your mom?”

“No. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in over a year.”

“You didn’t see her last Thanksgiving or Christmas? What’d you do during the holidays?”

“I worked.”

“Why didn’t you spend the break with Sarah?”

“As crazy as it sounds, she and I have never traveled in the same circles. We’ve always been friends, but she was popular in high school and I wasn’t. She was a cheerleader. Homecoming Queen. Editor of the yearbook. I was Valedictorian. Besides, I didn’t want to intrude on her family time.”

“God, Maggie, I’m sorry.”

She went back to her fingernail. Gee, she needed a manicure. “Don’t be. It’s fine. I don’t dwell on it and neither should you. I always thought that someday I’d have a relationship with Mother. You know, when she was older and needed me.” She blinked tears away and hoped he didn’t notice.

“Sarah said it was a blood clot. Had your mom been sick?”

“No. She’d had simple day-surgery for carpal tunnel. She was at the grocery store, collapsed, and died before the ambulance got there. I didn’t even know she’d had the procedure.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Sarah’s dad called me. Her parents live a few blocks from here.”

“Your step-dads…were they…did they…you know…do anything to you?”

Her face pinched. She shook her head. “What? Abuse or molest me? No, thank God. Quite the contrary. I was invisible to them and my mom. If it hadn’t been for our next-door neighbor, Rose, I wouldn’t have mattered to anybody.”

A warm sensation washed over Maggie at the thought of her friend. “But Rose was always there. She was older than Mom, and had a boyfriend, Edward. He came over quite often and they took me to the park or the carnival or on picnics. When I was with them, I pretended they were my grandparents, because they treated me like a grandchild.”

“What about your real grandparents”

“My mom left home at eighteen and didn’t have another thing to do with them. I met them once when I was six. They tried to make nice with Mom, but she wouldn’t have it. Truth is she didn’t need them. She always had a man to take care of her, until a couple of years ago. You are so lucky to have such a great family. Don’t ever take them for granted.”

She closed her eyes and thought of happier times. “I’d curl up in Edward’s lap and he’d read to me for hours. He died when I was ten and when I was sixteen, Rose passed away.” Maggie’s chest tightened. The memory still hurt after all these years. She wondered if it would ever go away.

“So you see, even if I didn’t have typical parents, I had positive influences in my life. Rose was a dancer when she was young, so she enrolled me in dance lessons.”

Maggie attempted to read his expression. She wasn’t sure if he felt sorry for her or was struggling to find the right words of support.

“The one good thing from my mother’s marriages is the Lubbock house where Sarah and I live. Mom got it as part of a divorce settlement, I think.”

Maggie decided she’d covered all the bases of her life and needed to change the subject. She pointed to the scar on his chin. “How’d you get that? Football?”

“Bike wreck, when I was twelve.”

She yawned and slid down on the bed, hugged the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “I’m glad you’re…” She fell asleep before she finished the sentence.

 
~~*~~
 

Jace stared at her. Even in sleep, her face strained with worry. He never considered her family life. Or lack of it. Guilt settled in the pit of his stomach. He did take his family for granted. They’d always been there and he’d not given any thought to life without them. For as long as he could remember, any sport he played, his mom and dad were always in the stands. Encouraging. Cheering. Telling him what a good job he did, even when he didn’t. Sadness overcame him. Strange. He’d never been this invested in a girl before and the funny thing was he’d not even slept with her.
Maggie is a good person and everything she’s accomplished has been without a support system
. He wasn’t clear how he could help, but he wanted to. She deserved it more than anyone he’d ever known.

He reclined onto the bed and closed his eyes, aware of the beautiful, innocent woman sleeping with him and how he wanted to hold her, comfort her, ease her pain. He couldn’t help but smile. Those weren’t things he usually thought about when he lay next to a woman. He liked that she wore the tee shirt with his name and number. Plenty of girls did. But for her to wear it, meant more to him.
 

The next morning, he woke early and looked at his bed partner, her face now relaxed in deep sleep. Sliding out of bed, he eased to the bookshelves and fingered the contents.