SECRET Revealed (6 page)

The next morning, I dressed carefully for my regular breakfast shift at the Café Rose. I wanted to look pulled together, calm, adult, not like I’d been crying all night. Not that Dell would notice. She hadn’t paid much attention to Will and me kissing in the corners of the Café this past month, so I figured she’d barely register that we’d broken up.

Then I was slammed by another memory from the night before! Yesterday, in the throes of deep affection for me, Will had not only asked me to manage his new, fancier restaurant upstairs, but also had said he was naming it
Cassie’s
, after me, a gesture that had moved me to tears. Now, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to work there anymore.

Maybe what I needed to do was walk in and quit. This time for good. Maybe a long break from seeing each other, being around each other, hurting each other, was what we both needed. Then cold dread snaked up my legs:
Will could fire me
. I’d have a wrongful dismissal case of some kind, but I wouldn’t spend my savings on lawyers. Knowing me, I’d just leave, tail between my legs, taking Angela Rejean up on that hostess job at Maison.

When I got to Frenchmen Street, I made a right. The autumn sun felt comforting on my shoulders. I began to walk a little taller. If only I could make Will understand all that S.E.C.R.E.T. had done for me, not just sexually. But I could also stand up for myself. I could go after what I wanted. I was bolder, surer, no longer clingy and afraid. I wasn’t one of those women who would rather be with anyone than alone. Alone was not scary anymore. Alone was challenging, but it was also deeply satisfying. Alone was not lonely.

By the time I reached the Café Rose, I was certain today was the last day I’d work for Will Foret. And I was also certain I’d be okay. I looked upstairs to the new restaurant, its freshly installed windows still sporting the manufacturer’s
stickers. I would be sad, but I would survive. Resilience was one of the many things S.E.C.R.E.T. had given me, and today it was the only thing I needed.

Breakfast was a blur. Dell and I passed each other going through the swinging doors, her emerging with platters of eggs, me punching in with dirty dishes piled in two arms, both of us at various times tapping our fingers while waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. It wasn’t until the late-morning lull that Will snuck in through the kitchen while my back was to him. I was grating lime rinds while Dell was prepping crust for one of her famous pies. When I turned around, my heart took a second to catch up to what I saw: Will’s handsome face now drawn, his dark eyes bloodshot, his lids heavy with grief.

“Hey,” he said, eyeing both of us as he deposited a crate of oranges on the metal prep table.

Dell ignored him, knowing that greeting was for me.

“Hey,” I said, mimicking his deadpan delivery.

“You got home okay?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“I did,” I replied curtly, not turning fully around to face him, refraining from telling him that Jesse drove me home,
but nothing happened
.

“Good. Good,” he said. “I’m sorry I stormed out of there. But I figured you were in good hands.”

There it was, a dig about Jesse
.

“Will, I—”

Dell wasn’t interested in overhearing any more of what wasn’t really being said.

“If you kids need me, I’ll be at my job, working,” she said, heading through the swinging doors back into the Café.

Will turned to finish unloading the fruit and vegetables. I went to follow him out back, to help, like I always did.

“No!” he said, turning around. I took a step back. “I mean, I can unload myself. Just take care of the customers.”

Claire, Will’s niece, who must have accompanied him to work that morning, came bounding into the kitchen, her blond dreads piled on her head in a tight nest. I’d begged her to contain her hair, as too many customers were finding her strands in their omelettes. Finally she relented when her uncle jokingly threatened to send her back to live with her folks in Slidell, something I knew he’d never really do. He was thrilled to have her live with him while she went to art school. And I was becoming as smitten with her as he was.

“Hey, lovebirds, get a room,” she singsonged, shrugging off her jacket.

It was a phrase she’d been overusing over these past few weeks, because we could barely keep our hands off each other. She plucked a fat strawberry from a pile in the strainer and shoved it in her mouth. Our flat expressions, our dense silence must have given off a palpable tension. She glanced at me, then Will.

“O-
kay
then. I’ll just … go find Dell,” she said, slinking
out to the dining room, rightly afraid of the storm brewing over our heads.

I looked into Will’s haunted eyes.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” I whispered. “Everyone tippy-toeing around us. Because if so, I’m happy to hand in my resignation. Today. Now.”

I was astonished at my own resolve. But I meant it. And he knew it. He raked his fingers through his sleep-flattened hair. Was he grayer than yesterday?

“Please don’t do that,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, Will? For
everything
?”

“No. Not for everything, but definitely for the way I behaved last night. I know I left you feeling bad about yourself. I’m so sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

I took a step toward him as though it were the most natural thing in the world to throw my arms around him, to accept his apology. He put up his hand as a barrier, keeping his voice even, calm, as though talking to a scared animal.

“Wait. No. The thing is, Cassie … I’ve been thinking … I’ve been up all night thinking … and I realize that I probably rushed into things with you. Clearly you still have some loose strings to tie up, maybe with that guy, maybe with that … 
group
you’re in.”

“There are no loose strings, Will. There is no guy. Jesse is a friend. And there is no group. I left that … group once I realized you and I were … that we could—”

“That we could what? Finally be together? Right. As if you were pining away for me.”

Indignation flooded in. “Is that what you wanted me to be doing?”

“No, I mean … I
meant
 … that’s what
I
was doing.”

“Ha. Wait. You’re telling me you were
pining away
for me while living with and sleeping with a beautiful young woman who was about to have what you thought was
your
baby. Meanwhile, I was supposed to stay celibate, not date, not have sex with anyone else, but instead sit around waiting for your relationship to die so that I could finally have you?”

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his face furiously, trying to dig out a better answer. “I’m an asshole.”

“No argument from me on that,” I said. “Because yeah, you’re right, Will, I
wasn’t
waiting around. And frankly, now that it’s looking like it’s over
again
between us, I’m
still
not waiting around.”

We were a foot apart now, both incredulous at the things that were coming out of each other’s mouths. We seemed to be marinating in speechlessness and shock.

“Seriously. Tell me now, Will. Should I hand in my resignation?”

He straightened up, and when he spoke his voice was gentle, insistent.

“Cassie, as I tried to say last night, but couldn’t, you are one of the best employees I’ve ever had. I don’t want that to change. I want you to continue working here and training your replacements at the Café so you can manage the restaurant upstairs. It
is
going to be named Cassie’s, since that’s the name I registered, that’s the name on the liquor
license, that’s the name that’s going to be on all the invoices and menus I’ve printed, and on a sign that’s going to be delivered any minute now,” he said, checking his watch. “I haven’t changed my mind about that.”

I’d been staring at his lips the whole time he spoke, wanting to kiss him, wanting to slap him for the words issuing from them, willing myself not to cry, not to stammer. I placed one hand over my stomach and with the other I braced myself on the counter.

“Will, tell me something.”

“What?” His shoulders dropped. He knew what was coming.

“Did you ever love me?”

He looked down as though the answer were scribbled on a piece of paper balled up in one of his fists.

“I … did. And I still … think the world of you, Cassie. I do.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers before continuing.

“I still feel … very deeply for you, Cassie. But I can’t be in love with you. I won’t be. I won’t let myself. Because I want—no, I
need
, I seriously
need
my life to be more uncomplicated from now on. I’ve got Claire to look after now, and she’s going through some shit at school, and I’ve got a new business to run. Tracina and the baby are behind me now. And I just have to focus on having a quieter, simpler life. I need that. For my sanity.”

The silence that followed said everything.

It was over between us. Completely.

“I see.”

“But we
can
work together, Cassie. We’re not children. And good jobs aren’t easy to come by. Don’t punish yourself out of pride. Stay. I need you.”

What do you say to that? What do you do? Do you beat on the person’s chest, demanding that the heart let you in because the heart knows better than the brain? Or do you just nod and say,
Okay. Fine. I will stay. For now
.

That’s what I said, while a rivulet of liquid mercury entered my veins, solidifying and steeling me against any further rejection, or from ever opening my heart again. It happened so automatically it would have been almost awe-inspiring if it didn’t signal doom. This man had doomed me for love. I had shown him some of my true self, the parts I felt safe showing. But when my deeper secrets were revealed, he rejected me. And it wasn’t just rejection, it was denial, of everything I was and of everything I had been through.

“So that’s it then?” I asked.

“I think so,” he said. “We were friends for a long time. I hope we can be friends again. I can be yours, I think, with time.”

He held out his hand. He wanted me to
shake
his hand? I looked at it like it was on fire.
Don’t cry right now. Cry later
.

And that’s what I did. I worked like a dog for the rest of my shift, training both Claire and our new hire, Maureen, a
bartender we stole from the Spotted Cat across the street and who’d eventually replace me downstairs. I hoped, despite their style clash (Claire was a hippie, Maureen a punk) and slight age difference (Claire was almost eighteen, Maureen, twenty-three) that they’d eventually get along.

I cashed out and left just as a truck pulled up in front of the store and parked. A huge canvas-covered sign jutted out of the cab, casting a shadow over the car behind it. I could make out the top of the big red
C
of
Cassie’s
, and that’s when it became all too much. I fled down Frenchmen, past the bike shop, past the Praline Connection and Maison, cutting a hard left at Chartres to the Spinster Hotel, marveling at how much life can change in twenty-four hours. Yesterday at this time, Will and I were heading to Latrobe’s dressed to the nines and looking forward to a future together. Today, I was in sneakers and a stained T-shirt, unlocking my door and running up the stairs leading to my third-floor apartment, barely holding back my tears.