The Secret We Keep – Chapter 1 – We Were Young

We were young. Sounds like an excuse. It’s still true.

I was dating Jason for a few months. Three, maybe four.

Most of our relationship at that point was logistics.

Whose car. Whose place. Which roommate was working. Whether his roommate’s shift ended at ten or eleven, because if it was ten there was barely a point.

We were twenty-three and twenty-four and living like teenagers.

I still had a roommate from college who worked nights and slept days, which meant my apartment was permanently don’t slam the door, keep it down, she’s sleeping.

Jason had two roommates and a landlord one floor down who had very strong opinions about noise and apparently even stronger opinions about young people having sex.

So we got creative.

His car, twice. Never again.

A hotel once, when he got a signing bonus from a warehouse job he quit less than a month later.

Mostly it was twenty minutes here, forty-five there. Always watching the time. Always listening for a door.

So when I say Danny had a river house, you need to understand that the river wasn’t the important part.

Danny was Jason’s friend from high school. One of those friendships that survives mostly because nobody ever officially ends it.

I met him about a month after I started dating Jason.

He complimented me first.

Then he touched my arm while he did it.

Later somebody wanted a group picture, and Danny ended up beside me. His hand went around my waist and then lower, settling against my hip as he pulled me toward him.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing I could point at afterward and turn into a whole thing.

I just didn’t like it.

Jason and I were in the car afterward when he said, “He’s like that with everyone.”

I hadn’t brought it up yet.

“Like what?”

“Touchy.”

I looked at him.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

That was apparently the explanation.

And I let it be one.

I liked Jason. I really liked Jason, actually, and we’d been together for maybe a month. Starting a fight about one of his oldest friends wasn’t high on my list.

Danny didn’t suddenly become worse after that. He was just consistently Danny.

At parties, he always seemed to know which girl had had too much to drink.

He was also always the first one offering her a ride home.

Never the sober girl.

Never the one standing beside her boyfriend.

The drunk one.

His jokes were the kind that made people laugh and then look at each other afterward.

He stood too close.

Touched people when he talked.

Put his arm around women he barely knew for pictures.

Jason knew I didn’t like him.

Jason didn’t particularly defend him either. He’d call him an idiot. Tell him to fuck off when a joke went too far. Pull me closer if Danny was getting annoying.

But Danny had been around since high school.

So Danny stayed around.

And Danny had the house.

His parents had owned it before their divorce. His mother moved out of state. His father remarried and apparently stopped caring about anything that couldn’t fit into his new life.

Danny got the river house.

Three bedrooms. A dock. A proper kitchen. Water you could actually swim in.

And, most importantly to me at twenty-three, doors.

Doors that closed.

He brought it up on a Tuesday.

Jason showed me the picture Danny had sent him. Blue water, wooden dock, trees everywhere.

We should do a weekend out there before it gets cold. Bring your girl.

I stared at the picture longer than necessary.

“That’s his?”

“Basically.”

“Basically?”

“His parents’. Nobody uses it anymore.”

I zoomed in on the picture.

Jason laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“You’re already there.”

I was.

That same week, both of Jason’s roommates were supposed to be out at the same time, which almost never happened.

One was at his girlfriend’s. The other was supposed to be working a double.

Jason texted me before I’d even finished my shift.

Empty.

That was the whole message.

I knew exactly what it meant.

I got there twenty minutes later.

We didn’t even make it properly out of the kitchen at first.

Jason kissed me against the counter, one hand at my waist, the other sliding under my shirt.

There was something different about not listening.

That was the thing I noticed.

Usually some part of my brain stayed outside whatever we were doing. A car door. Footsteps. Pipes. Somebody’s key in a lock.

That afternoon there was nothing.

Just him.

His mouth moved to my neck.

“Bedroom,” I said.

He laughed against my skin.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Jason.”

“You’re bossy when you’re horny.”

“Bedroom.”

We made it there.

Barely.

My shirt ended up somewhere near the door. His was halfway off. I was on my back, pulling him down by the waistband of his jeans while he tried to get mine open without stopping kissing me.

And then the front door opened.

“Hey! I’m back early. Game got rained out.”

We froze.

Completely.

Jason’s face dropped into my shoulder.

“Fuck.”

I had one hand inside the back of his jeans and the other over my mouth because, for some reason, I was suddenly trying not to laugh.

He looked at me.

“Don’t.”

That made it worse.

Footsteps crossed the living room.

A cupboard opened.

Then the fridge.

Jason was still on top of me.

“This isn’t funny,” he whispered.

It was a little funny.

It was also incredibly frustrating.

Eventually he rolled onto his back beside me and stared at the ceiling.

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

“No, seriously.”

“I know.”

His roommate started doing something in the kitchen that involved opening every cabinet they owned.

Jason turned his head toward me.

“Two days.”

I knew what he meant.

The river house.

I pulled my shirt back on.

“Two whole days?”

“And nights.”

That sounded even better.

Two days later, Danny added the catch.

Bring somebody for me too. I’m not spending the whole weekend watching you two disappear upstairs.

Jason showed me the message.

“Charming.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to.”

But I was already thinking about who I could ask.

Because I wanted to go.

That’s the simple version.

I wanted two days with Jason. I wanted the bedroom. I wanted the dock and the water and breakfast the next morning without having to leave before somebody came home.

I wanted the weekend.

Kate worked two registers down from me.

We’d started at the store around the same time, although our lives looked pretty different by then.

I was still taking classes part-time.

Kate had stopped.

She couldn’t afford tuition and her mother had medical bills that didn’t particularly care whether Kate wanted a degree.

So she worked.

At the store during the day. Deliveries most evenings. Weekends when she could get them because people tipped better then.

She was funny when she was tired, which was almost always.

Not cheerful. Funny.

There was a difference.

One Saturday a woman spent almost ten minutes arguing with Kate about a coupon that had expired three months earlier.

Kate called the manager.

The manager told the woman exactly what Kate had already told her.

The woman thanked him.

After she left, Kate looked over at me.

“Thank God a man was available.”

I laughed so hard I had to pretend I was coughing when the manager looked over.

That was Kate.

She’d also take your Saturday shift even when she’d worked six days already.

She’d stay late because somebody’s kid was sick.

She’d cover lunch.

She’d drive across town after closing because her mother needed something from the pharmacy.

Then she’d show up the next morning with coffee and act like she’d slept eight hours.

I don’t remember her dating anyone while we worked together.

Maybe she did and just didn’t tell me.

There wasn’t much room for anyone anyway.

Work. Deliveries. Her mom.

Repeat.

When Danny said to bring somebody, I thought of Kate.

Partly because I liked her.

Partly because I thought she’d have fun.

And partly because I needed somebody to come if I wanted my weekend with Jason.

All three things can be true at once.

I asked her at work on Thursday.

“Come with us.”

“Where?”

“Jason’s friend has a house on the river.”

She kept scanning the return in front of her.

“What friend?”

“Danny.”

She looked at me.

She’d never met him.

“It’s just for the weekend. We leave Friday after work, come back Sunday. You don’t have to pay for anything.”

“I can’t.”

That fast.

“Why?”

“My mom needs me this weekend.”

“She needs you every weekend.”

“I know.”

“And you need a weekend.”

She smiled a little.

“Are you my therapist now?”

“Yes. Very expensive. This session is costing you one weekend at a river.”

“No.”

She handed me the receipt.

“I’m doing deliveries Saturday anyway. Weekends are better.”

“Kate.”

“No.”

A customer came up behind me, so that was the end of it.

Or it should have been.

I went home after work.

Ate.

Showered.

Talked to Jason.

At some point he asked if I’d found anyone.

“Maybe.”

“Who’s maybe?”

“Kate.”

“The girl from work?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

“She said no.”

“Then ask somebody else.”

I could have.

There were other people.

I didn’t.

At 9:05, I called Kate.

I knew she was home by then.

More importantly, I knew her mother was home.

Kate had complained more than once that her mom was always trying to make her go out.

You’re twenty-three. Go do something.

Kate would imitate her when she told me about it.

Stop sitting here with me. Go meet somebody. Go have fun.

Her mother worried that Kate worked too much.

Which she did.

I also knew Kate listened to her.

So I called at 9:05.

“You’re annoying,” Kate said when she answered.

“I haven’t even said anything.”

“I know why you’re calling.”

“Then this will be quick.”

“No.”

“Kate.”

“No.”

“Just listen.”

She groaned.

I could hear a television behind her.

I told her it was free.

I told her we’d bring food.

I told her she could sleep for forty-eight hours if that’s what she wanted.

I told her there was a dock and a river and nobody was asking her to deliver anything to anybody.

“Grace.”

“What?”

“I said no.”

Then I heard her mother’s voice in the background.

Couldn’t make out the words.

Kate answered her.

Her mother said something else.

“No, Mom.”

Another response.

Kate sighed.

I smiled.

I’m not proud of the smile.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing.”

“She said you should go, didn’t she?”

“You’re both annoying.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It was literally a no five seconds ago.”

Her mother said something again.

Louder this time.

I heard weekend.

Kate went quiet.

I waited.

That’s probably the part I think about most.

I didn’t push again.

I didn’t need to.

I just waited and let her mother do it for me.

Finally Kate sighed.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

I was relieved.

Happy, even.

“You’re going to have fun.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“We’ll pick you up after work tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t bring half your apartment. It’s two days.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“You absolutely were.”

That got a small laugh out of her.

Enough that I felt better.

Enough that I could tell myself I’d been right to call.

By Sunday, she’d be glad she came.

I was wrong about a lot of things that summer.