Brenda Novak - The Secrets She Kept

That he was doing so well made her breathe easier. But that in itself concerned her. If she didn’t care about him anymore, why would she feel such relief?

“Damn you,” she muttered, but she wasn’t sure if she was talking to herself, for still being so susceptible to the attraction she’d always felt, or him, for not feeling any attraction at all.

* * *

“Nancy’s lost weight,” Keith said over a Beatles song that was playing on the radio.

The way Maisey fidgeted with her seat belt gave Keith the impression she didn’t want to discuss Nancy. “A few pounds,” she finally said.

“She looks great.”

His sister folded her arms as he came to a stop at the light. “She’ll never be model-thin.”

Her comment struck him as odd. Her weight had never bothered him before; why would it bother him now? “Who says she has to be?”

“No one. I’m just making an observation.”

“And that is...”

“She’s never been your type.”

“I have a type?”

“Yes. Skinny, blond and beautiful. More like the police chief. She’s pretty, don’t you think?”

She was pretty, but that was beside the point. “Not everyone I date is blond—or skinny,” he said. “I was with Nancy before, wasn’t I? And she was heavier than she is now.”

“You can’t use Nancy as an example.”

The light turned green. He made a left, onto the main drag. “Why not?”

“She was a divergence. Even she was surprised when you took an interest in her.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. You’re used to getting whoever you want. And when you can have anyone, you typically don’t choose someone who’s a few pounds overweight.”

“She’s not that heavy!” She thought she was, and had always been self-conscious about it. The first night they’d made love, he’d had a hell of a time getting her to trust him enough to take off her clothes. But it had been worth the battle. She’d given him intimacy and warmth, someone to cling to when he had needed it most. And once she grew comfortable, there’d been plenty of physical attraction and enjoyment. He’d liked the softness of her curves and the fact that she was exactly as nature had made her. Although he wouldn’t be vulgar enough to say it, especially to his sister, she had the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. Her legs weren’t bad, either. She just carried a little extra weight around the waist.

“Name one other woman you’ve dated who’s been overweight,” Maisey said.

“Maybe I wasn’t initially attracted to Nancy, but the more I got to know her, the prettier she became.” She just couldn’t compete with the cocaine that’d kept him going back then. No one could.

“She’s not capable of dealing with someone like you. That’s all.”

“You remember what I was like back then, Mais. I wasn’t capable of having a relationship with anyone. Even you. But I’m clean now. Things are different.”

“She’s still outgunned, doesn’t have nearly as much experience with men as those women you’ve been dating in LA. You need someone more...sophisticated.”

He turned down the radio. “You mean someone who can’t get hurt because she doesn’t know how to care in the first place? Someone more like Mom?”

“Of course not! But what you had with Nancy wasn’t a real relationship, either, so don’t try to pretend it was.”

Keith told himself to relax so this wouldn’t explode into an argument. He understood why she might be protective of Nancy, but he didn’t need Maisey piling on. He already felt like shit because of what he’d done. “How was it not a real relationship? I liked her. A lot.”

He’d never been around anyone less like his mother. She’d been exactly what he needed at the time. He still wasn’t sure what he would’ve done without her friendship and support. But she’d definitely given him the cold shoulder a few minutes ago. She hadn’t been happy to see him; he could tell.

“You’ve liked plenty of women,” Maisey said as if that was meaningless.

He shot her a scowl. “I’m not going to hurt Nancy. For your information, I just apologized to her.”

His sister’s attitude seemed to improve. “That was nice of you.”

“You don’t think I have a conscience?”

“I think you can be devastating, even when you don’t mean to be.”

He’d never live down his reputation. He’d earned it too honestly. But, in his own defense, he hadn’t been ready to settle down—with anyone—and he hadn’t presented himself in any other way.

Regardless, there wasn’t much point in continuing the conversation. They were driving to the morgue in Charleston to view the body of their dead mother. He didn’t need to make this day any worse. “That was five years ago,” he said calmly. “I’m not the same person.”

“You have the same gorgeous face. The same disarming smile. The same appeal to women,” she said. “I’d rather you didn’t rekindle your relationship with Nancy while you’re here. It’s not like you need her—or would ever take her seriously even if you did start seeing her again. There are too many other women out there who’d suit you better.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Nancy again. But it upset him to hear what Maisey had to say. He was used to having his younger sister on his side. They’d always banded together. They’d had to—to survive their childhood. “She’s an adult. I’m sure she can take care of herself and doesn’t need you to run interference for her. Anyway, stop worrying. I won’t be here long enough to start seeing anyone.”

She sighed. “It’s not like I want you to leave. I’m just asking you to stay away from Nancy. As a personal favor to me.”

Her earnest expression irritated him even more. “You’ve gotten that close to her?”

“Yes! She’s someone I trust and confide in, someone I enjoy working with.”

He turned toward the ferry, which would take them to the mainland. “Is that why you paid her the money I owed her?”

The way Maisey fiddled with her purse told him she was suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry if you’re mad that I got involved. But she’s never had much money. I made sure that what she lent you came back to her sooner rather than later, that’s all.”

“I tried to pay her myself,” he said. “Less than a year after I left.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“She didn’t mention it?”

“No.”

“So you thought I never tried.”

“I wasn’t worried. I’d already taken care of it.”

“I gave her a car, too—something to make up for how I treated her. But she wouldn’t take it.”

“You can’t be surprised she’d say no. That was an expensive present.”

“Wow. You are defensive of Nancy.”

Maisey reached out to squeeze his forearm. “Not really. I love you, too. It was very generous of you.”

He pulled into the line of cars waiting to cross over. “She didn’t mention that, either? The car?”

“We don’t talk about you. I mean, I do sometimes. But if I bring you up, she just listens. She never says anything herself.”

He adjusted his windshield wipers to handle a fresh deluge. “She hates me that much?”

“I wouldn’t call it hate. She’s...moved on.”

The ferry captain approached the car in front of them. “Who’s she dating now?”

“Some guy from Charleston.”

“Is it serious?”

When she didn’t answer, he looked over and found her glaring at him. “Does it matter?”

“No, it doesn’t,” he muttered and lowered his window to pay the fare.

* * *

Their mother was on a gurney in the back end, where the corpses were weighed and tagged. A sheet covered her from the neck down, but her arms had been taken out from under it and folded beneath her breasts—probably Dean Gillespie’s attempt to make her appear “at peace,” for their sake.