Secret Shared

20 CASSIE

AFTER MY MEETING with Matilda, I was bone-weary, but I knew Dell was probably a walking corpse by now, having closed the Café the night before and opened it today. So instead of crawling into bed, I showered, changed and took the long way to work to check up on Will.

His truck wasn’t at his place in Bywater or parked in front of or behind the Café, and he wasn’t answering his phone, so I assumed he had taken a drive somewhere to clear his head—or to cry openly, for longer than he was able to with me.

The restaurant was empty. Claire burst out of the kitchen in an artfully placed hairnet that did little to contain her blond dreadlocks, her hands coated in oil and bits of kale. I liked her open, guileless face, and how a few weeks living at Will’s had removed her sullenness, turning her into a full-blown chatty teen. She was growing on Dell too, who taught her food prep right away, something that had taken her months to show me.

“Where’s that disinfectant hand soap? The pink stuff Dell uses.”

“I’ll show you,” I said. “Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah. Dell was of no use to me after the lunch rush and went home.”

For seventeen, she was mature beyond her years, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing, I decided. Sure I was sexually stunted (well into my thirties), but Claire and her new friends from school were unsettlingly accelerated. They scared me a little when they came into the Café with their smoking and piercings, their seductive “selfies” and their casual “sexting.”

A week ago I had asked Claire how she could be a vegan and smoke.

“For the same reason you can be nosy and nice,” she teased.

I felt around on the shelf above the sink, found the bottle of pink disinfectant soap lying on its side and squirted some on her hands.

“Has Will been by?”

“Haven’t seen him,” she said, drying her hands on her legs and immediately checking her vibrating phone.

Will let her carry it around in her waitress pouch. His reasoning was that she didn’t talk on it, only checked texts, so it wasn’t as rude. I told him if she worked upstairs that wouldn’t be allowed.

“Nor the piercings,” I said to him.

“Fine, you’ll be the boss. You’ll make the rules,” he had said.

Still, Claire was a hard worker, so I didn’t complain. And she was a natural in the kitchen.

“I got a head-start on salad prep,” she said. “Kale’s done. I’ll tackle the carrots next.”

“Thanks. I can probably handle the floor on my own tonight,” I said.

“Oh good. I want to go see the baby.”

I almost blurted out everything that had happened at the hospital between her uncle and her almost-aunt, but this was officially now a family issue, something she’d have to navigate with Will.

While helping Claire prep and blanche the carrots, I thought about Dauphine and Mark, probably passed out somewhere, arms and legs entwined. I envied their seeming certainty, Dauphine’s decisiveness to just grab this man and go with it. But sometimes people just know; it’s in their nature. When that option was available to me, to test the waters with Jesse outside of S.E.C.R.E.T., I was only on my third Step. I was certain of a connection with him, but I hadn’t yet made one with myself.

Had I now? How well did I know myself: my body, my mind and my heart? Maybe the better questions were, where did these three things overlap and where did they remain separate? S.E.C.R.E.T. dealt in pleasures of the body, an area of my life I’d always ignored. I had lived so far in my head I had also let my heart atrophy. Mark and I had definitely made a physical connection. Jesse and I had too. Plus, he was making quiet inroads into my heart. But Will had long ago conquered all three. I loved his body, his mind and his heart, never more so than today, when his absence not only preoccupied me but pained me physically, as I imagined him somewhere sad and alone.

So even before I was sure about Will’s feelings for me, I took my cell phone out back into the alley while Claire manned the floor, the last favor I’d ask before sending her home.

Jesse picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, babe, you still at the hospital?”

“No, I’m at work. You?”

He told me he was about to go into a meeting with clients who wanted a five-tiered wedding cake.

“You must be exhausted,” he said. “So I take it plans tonight are out too.”

“Yeah … I have to stay here, Jesse.”

The silence that followed had mass; I could feel it actually weighing down the phone. Maybe it was the way I had said his name, like it was punctuation, with a hint of gentle finality.

“Okay … I’m getting the feeling that tomorrow’s not going to be good for you either.”

Inhale.

“Jesse, I think … no, I know … I’m in love with someone else.”

More silence, this time lighter, now that I’d injected it with a bit of truth.

“I see. Huh. Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked, a hint of sourness in his tone.

I told him it was Will, my boss and my friend of many years. I didn’t go into the details; Jesse didn’t need to hear about our eight-year mostly platonic odyssey, the pining, the fears, the insecurities, the jealousies, the betrayals, all the drama that had conspired to keep us apart.

“Does he love you back?”

“I don’t know, Jesse, but I need to find out. And I don’t want to string you along or use you as some kind of net in case he does reject me. And he might. But I need to be all in on this one. After what he’s been through, I want to be able to be honest if he asks me about you. And you deserve that too. You’re a good man, Jesse. So so good.”

“Wow. You sound so … I hate to say you sound really fucking sexy, because I’m getting my heart ripped out, but I really wish I were the other guy right now.”

What more was there to say? Tender well-wishes followed on both our parts. They felt genuine and necessary.

“I don’t like the phrase ‘I hope we can still be friends,’ Jesse. It sounds so lame. But I really do hope we can be … something to each other.”

“Cassie, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not great at being friends with women I want to sleep with.”

The silence widened; there was little left to say.

“I understand.”

We said gentle goodbyes and hung up. I kissed the screen on my phone. I’d been blessed by such good men in S.E.C.R.E.T., men who, beyond awakening me sexually, also helped me forget the not-so-good ones I’d experienced before. And then there was Will. I hoped I was letting go of something good in hopes of getting something great, but for all I knew Will was done with me.

Still, it was unusual for him to disappear like this. I looked at my watch, then up and down the quiet alley, worry setting in. The news of the baby was a devastating blow, but what if he really had been in love with Tracina? What if he was feeling this only now, now that he not only couldn’t have her but was learning she had never really been his?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a curtain flutter out from one of the open upstairs windows of the Café. Will was still waiting for the custom screens. And that’s when I knew. I burst in through the door, back through the kitchen and into the dining area, where two customers had grabbed a window table next to where Claire was bent over her phone, flanked by two new friends from school who were also looking at something on her screen.

“Claire!” They leapt like I’d interrupted delicate surgery. “Can you stick around for a little while longer? And please get those people some menus. I’ll pay you double overtime. I have to check something upstairs. I won’t be long.”

I didn’t even wait for her to answer. I would have been a crappy, bossy mother, I decided, as I quietly took the stairs. The knob for the new oak door was on back order, so I had to gently nudge it open with my shoulder. The door would eventually separate the old Café from the new space, once the stairs leading directly outside were complete, but right now Will kept it shut to keep the construction dust from wafting into Café Rose.

The space was dim for the middle of the afternoon. Then I noticed all the curtains were drawn. Newspaper trails still lined the floor to catch spatter from the ceiling paint. But the tables had finally been delivered, a cluster of twelve of them, with marble tops and wooden legs. I let a hand caress a cool, smooth surface. And then I saw them, Will’s bare feet on the floor peeking out from behind the cocktail bar, a mickey of whiskey, one quarter empty, on top. Will wasn’t much of a drinker, and he never drank during the day, so this was probably his idea of “making quite a dent in the bottle.”

“Is that you, Officer?” he asked, his voice groggy.

“Why? Are the police after you?” I went along with him, slowly rounding the bar until I stood at his feet.

He was in his jeans, no shirt, using the duvet as a pillow, the mattress bent like a loose taco to fit the narrow space, his face wrinkled from sleeping, probably unsoundly.

“They will be after me when they find my truck out on North Peters,” he said, clasping his hands behind his head, stretching awake.

I couldn’t read his tone. I couldn’t tell if he was still sad or mad or well past both and into an emotional zone even he’d never visited before.

Oh, Will. I wanted to crawl down there, wrap my arms and legs around his pain. Instead, I said, “What’s your truck doing out there?”

“Took that bend at Saint Ferdinand,” he said, using a hand to trace the truck’s path. “And there was this huge possum in the middle of the road and bam—”

He clapped and mashed his hands together.

“Poor possum.”

“Possum’s fine. My truck is wedged in the ditch, stuck between fence posts near the lumberyard. Had to smash the back window to get out. At least, I hope the truck’s still there. Actually, it might be worth more if I claim it was stolen.”

He laughed softly, but I couldn’t. Should I ask? Where have you been and what are you thinking and can you be mine now? Can we be each other’s?

“But you’re okay, right?”

“Okay? I’m fucking great. I’m a damn country-western song, Cassie. Guy loses everything he thought he had in one day. Losing my truck kinda rounds out the chorus, don’t you think?”

There it was, the sarcasm hiding the sorrow, that man I knew so well. The one I loved so much. Here is your opening, Cassie. Say it.

“You haven’t lost everything, Will.”

“That’s true. Day’s not over yet. Or is it? I can’t tell with the curtains shut. What do you think of them? They’re pretty nice, aren’t they?”

“They’re beautiful. See? You have the curtains … and …?”

His eyes moved from admiring the curtains to studying me.

“What else do I have?”

He sat up on an elbow, his gaze heavy.

Say it, Cassie.

“You have … those marble tables. They’re g-gorgeous,” I stammered.

“That’s true. They are gorgeous,” he said.

I was nervously fidgeting with the edge of the bar.

“And … what else do I have?”

For chrissake, say it.

Say it now.

“You have everything, Will, right here in this room—”

“Do I have you?”

Enough, Cassie. It’s here, all of it, right in front of you.

“Yes, Will.”

“Are you sure, Cassie? Because I really want to have you, and earlier, when that guy drove up to the hospital parking lot, and it didn’t look like I could have you either, that’s when I thought—”

“Will. You have me.”

I don’t know if I dove to meet him or if he reached up to pull me down to the mattress, but soon I was kneeling in front of him, letting him pull off my T-shirt, my stupid bra, my dumb belt, kicking off my awful jeans, both of us hating every single thing that still stood between us, even if it was just our clothes.

Now astride him, our fingers entwined, I felt lucky and so, so grateful.

“You should see your face right now,” he whispered. “So beautiful.”

I was going to say, You make me feel beautiful, but it wasn’t true. I felt beautiful before he said it, a miracle in and of itself.

“Thank you, Will.” My fingers graced his sternum. He was all I ever wanted.

He reached up, curling a firm hand around the back of my neck, pulling me down on top of him until my breasts were pressed against his warm chest. His eyes were calm, his hair a tangle of anguish and sleep. I smoothed it back.

“Kiss me, Cassie. Kiss me like you meant what you just said. That I have you. That you’re mine.”

His mouth was slightly open and I sank down on it with mine. We weren’t urgent, nor ferocious. Not yet. There was no hurry. I kissed him roundly, fully, once, then suckled his bottom lip, savoring him, kissing him again as his tongue darted hesitantly between my teeth, tasting me too.

“Will,” I said between kisses, “I missed you so much.”

He sat us both up, my legs still wrapped around him, his erection insistent between us.

“I missed you also … as you can see,” he laughed, flicking my hair away from my eyes.

My hand instinctually reached for him, and I rolled my fingers over his smooth, round head, feeling him stiffen more. His eyes took in the parts of my body he now reached to savor—my neck, my shoulder, my breasts. His tongue circled hot around my nipples, his lips gently tugging them into tense peaks slick with his kisses. Satisfied, he nudged my torso away from him so I rested on my palms behind me. Suddenly, I didn’t even like being this far away from him, but it was to allow his hand to slip beneath me, to tease out my wetness with a few feverish strokes of his fingers.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Cassie,” he whispered, sending two fingers higher still, curving up to hit a spot so sensitive, so perfect, I felt my eyes go wide. “I want to look in your face while you come. While I make you come,” he said, licking his fingers quickly and covering my clit, now aching, under the soft pad of his thumb.

“I’ve been wanting to do this to you for so long, Cassie.”

His lips curled as he increased the speed but not the pressure, hitting my perfect spot with an insistent, delicious tempo. “Come for me, Cassie. Come for me.” Oh and I did, right then, right there, throwing my head back, pressing my knees out, my whole body arching towards him. I came, releasing all the ache, all the pain, all the longing into that dusty, perfect room upstairs, the one that grew more and more beautiful each and every time we found ourselves alone and naked in it. His fingers continued thrusting, as I moaned for him, until I had to beg him to stop, desperate to catch my breath, desperate to come down, to come back to him, my Will.

My whole center heaving, I reached to stroke his sleepy, stubbly face, vowing silently to take care of this good man better, to never let him go again. His mouth found my thumb and he sucked and swirled it, bucking slightly as I reached my other hand between my legs to take him in my hand.

“I’ve missed this too,” I said, wrapping my hand around him as he rested back on his hands.

He watched my fingers flutter up and down, loosely, but quickly, my grip tightening with his obvious appreciation, my fingers moving faster, until that became too much for him, and he rolled his eyes heavenward. I quickened my pace still, leaning forward, my mouth next to his ear, my nipples grazing his upper arm.

“It’s you, Will, it’s always been you. It’ll always be you,” I whispered, as he moaned, saying my name.

He patted around for his wallet, stuffed in his jeans nearby, stopping my hand so he could slide a condom on. Then he gathered my legs around him again, arms encircling my waist tightly. “You feel so fucking good,” he said, as he eased me down onto him, all the way to the end of me, filling me up more completely than anyone ever had or ever would. We stayed still for a moment, joined like that, my hands on his cheeks, my wet lips sliding sweetly across his, breathing in his breath, my hips grinding him slowly, feeling him all the way in me, one strong arm braced behind him, the other around me, holding my hips down. He moved beneath me, lovingly at first, reverently watching my face. Then his thrusts increased in intensity, and my hands braced on his shoulders as I felt him plunging up and into me, as I drove down onto him.

“Oh god, Will.”

“Cassie … oh, I love you, I love you like this,” he said, his face twisted in sweet agony as I rode him, my whole being focused on squeezing him, my hips rocking hard enough to finally pull the ecstasy right out of him. He came. I made him come, and then he fell backwards, panting for a few seconds.

I savored my beautiful victory until his body missed mine, and he pulled me down against him, gathering me close again. We spooned, my ass tucked in his sticky lap, his hard thigh thrown over mine, quivering from what he had just done to me, from what I had done to him, from what we had done to each other.

“Promise me something,” he said.

“Anything.”

“Promise me we’ll never let anything or anyone come between us again.”

“I do,” I said, closing my eyes. “I promise.”