The Secret
Third Wednesday, Gravity Press
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He stares at his ratty sneakers and kicks the gravel, stirring up dust. A shoelace has come untied and several burrs cling to it; small prickly hitchhikers. He considers pulling them off but they’re nasty little buggers. Best to leave them be.
Jean emerges from the Stop & Shop with two sweaty Cokes and a big smile. “Hi, honey. Ready to get going?” She says as she approaches.
He can’t stop staring at the burrs on his laces.
“John, what is it?”
Forcing himself to look up, he meets her brown eyes now filled with concern. “I need to tell you something.” He says.
She sets the Cokes on the hood of the truck. “Okay, tell me then.” She puts her arms around him, moving her hips into a familiar alignment.
God, I love her. I shouldn’t tell her. Why does she need to know anyway? What’s done is done. He pulls her close, whispering in her ear. “I need to put more air in the tires.”
With both hands on his chest she pushes away. But his wide smile and flashing blue eyes soften her and she laughs loudly; a gust of sound that ruffles his heart. She bounces back a step and turns, swatting him on the butt.
“You jerk. You had me worried!”
“No worries baby. It will only take a few minutes and we’ll be out of here.”
She slides behind the wheel and waits on him. She knows something’s wrong, knows it’s not a new something. They’ve kicked it into corners for years, and when they were ready to move they packed it up and brought it with them. The Rocky Mountains looming ahead seem a reflection of this unspoken thing. The closer they get to Denver, to the new life they’ve planned together, the further apart they seem to be. John hops in and leaning over, kisses her softly on the lips. It’s the only thing he ever does in a leisurely way.
“Let’s hit these mountains!”
She smiles at his enthusiasm even though it’s a little forced and pulls out of the station and onto the I25 ramp. John thumbs through the music on his phone, chooses some classic jazz, and turns up the volume.
Looking out the side window, the landscape passes in a blur of browns and beiges. With his focus turned inward John only sees his fears, only hears the endless rationalizations running in his head. Some secrets are best left unshared. If Jean hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s a good chance she never will. People are allowed to have a previous life, right? The woman is sick now, the cancer, now a stage four, will probably take her before the year is out. He was only nineteen—so long ago. She was so sexy, he was so flattered by her interest.
“John?”
His eyes refocus. Clouds are gathering. He turns towards Jean. “Yeah?”
“Is this about my mother?”