Read Three Can Keep a Secret Online
Authors: Judy Clemens
Tags: #Fiction / Mystery & Detective / General
Three Can Keep a Secret (22 page)
Lenny sped toward Perkasie, wanting to get cleaned up before talking with Lucy. I rode directly home and found my farmhand sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. She looked up anxiously.
“He’s okay,” I said. “Sad, and a bit disillusioned, but okay.”
As I sank to a chair Lucy jumped up, grabbing another mug from the cupboard and pouring some hot water from the tea kettle.
“Here,” she said. “Have some cocoa.”
I took it and breathed in the rich aroma. “Thanks.”
Lucy sat back down, across from me. “Tell me what happened?”
I shook my head. “Lenny will be here soon. He’ll tell you himself.”
She nodded, understanding. We sat quietly, sipping our drinks.
“So, Lucy,” I finally said. “There’s something I’d really like to know.”
I hesitated, and she looked down at the tablecloth.
“Go ahead,” she said. “Ask.”
“You didn’t push Brad. I know that. You don’t even have to say it. But why the secrecy? Why not tell everyone exactly what happened? You’d save yourself a lot of grief if you just told the truth.”
“Would I?” A ghost of a smile appeared on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She stared into her hot chocolate for a moment, then lifted her eyes to mine. “The truth can be worse than rumors, Stella. And it hasn’t been worth it to reveal it.”
“But—”
“Nobody pushed Brad. We loved him. I did. Tess did. His family—no matter how annoying they are—loved him like no other family could’ve.” Tears formed in her eyes, and fell. “You want to know why I can’t tell the truth? It’s because the truth would hurt the one person I love more than any other.”
“Tess?” I said. “But how?”
Tears fell even thicker down her cheeks. “It was her tractor,” she whispered. “She left it on the basement stairs. Brad didn’t see it, because he was holding that damned box.”
I took a breath through my mouth.
Oh, God.
“I knew Brad wouldn’t want her to live with that guilt,” Lucy said. “And she would’ve. She would’ve lived with it till her grave. And I couldn’t do that to my little girl.”
We sat at the table together, watching as the steam from our cocoa drifted toward the ceiling, mingling with the patterns in the plaster.
“The one on the right’s a little crooked,” Abe said.
I hammered another nail into the plaster and hung the third picture, the one of Howie and me at my birthday party. I stepped back to look at the arrangement and decided Abe was right. I slid the crooked picture to the left and it straightened out.
I didn’t turn around, but could feel Abe’s presence as well as if he’d been standing right beside me. Neither of us spoke.
It had been several days since I’d seen him. In fact, the last time we’d talked was before I went to Cloud Nine with Lenny. He hadn’t exactly been happy with me.
Now, Queenie stood up from where she was resting in the corner and walked behind me to Abe. I heard him scratching her head, and emotion clogged my throat.
We stood awkwardly in my office, speechless, and I didn’t even want to turn around to look at him. I felt too guilty about what I was going to say. The silence, punctuated with contented grunts from Queenie, dragged out for several minutes until I spoke.
“It’s ironic, isn’t it? We’ve dealt with so many fathers this week, and the only person I’ve ever considered as a father for my own children has been you.”
I heard Abe shift his feet, but he didn’t say anything.
“Somehow I don’t think that’s going to happen. Is it?” My throat closed and I looked at the floor until I had control again. I finally turned to look at him, and almost lost my nerve when I saw his face.
“You know I love you, Abe, but I just….”
He leaned over and put a finger on my lips. “Stop, Stella, please.” He took his finger off and moved away, looking out the window.
“I think we both know it,” he said. “I mean, we should’ve known before, but it wasn’t until the other night—” He cleared his throat. “It wasn’t until then I knew it just wasn’t going to work.”
“I’m sorry, Abe, I—”
He waved his hands. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s as much me as you. That kiss…it felt wrong, didn’t it?” He turned to look at me. “I think we’ve both had kisses before that felt right.”
My face burned as I remembered the two kisses I’d had from Nick Hathaway just weeks before. Kisses that still made me lightheaded, just thinking about them.
Abe smiled softly. “It’s Nick for you, isn’t it?”
I sighed and closed my eyes. “It could be. I don’t even know him that well, but he’s the one I’m picturing now.”
“As your children’s father?”
I shrugged, looking at him. “As something more than a friend.”
He nodded, looking pained.
“And for you?” I asked. “Is it Missy?”
“Maybe. But you know what else it is? It’s the city. I mean, I love coming here to visit. But I’ve realized it isn’t home anymore.”
“New York’s home?”
“I sure miss it. So it must be.”
I knelt to rub Queenie’s head. “Does Ma know?”
He squatted beside me and fingered Queenie’s silky ears. “You’re the first. I thought you deserved that.”
I let out a deep breath. “I was afraid you’d be mad.”
“That I’m not the one for you?”
“Yeah.”
“I was afraid of that, too, until I realized you were right.”
We petted Queenie some more. She was getting more than her fair share of comfort in this uncomfortable situation, I thought.
“So we’re still friends?” I asked.
He placed his hand on mine, then picked it up and kissed the back of it. “The best.”
I smiled and turned to wrap my arms around him. We knelt there on the floor, hugging, and I prayed no one would burst in on us this time.
No one did, and eventually I let go and stood up. I walked back to where I’d been hanging the pictures on the wall. The pictures Abe had been thoughtful enough to frame for me.
“You know,” I said, “Howie was everything I could ask for in a dad, and we weren’t related by a drop of blood or any piece of paper.” I put my hand out to touch the photo, then dropped it. “I found some other people this week that lost dads. Tess, even Kristi. She not only lost her biological dad, but she never even had Lenny. Not really.” I smiled. “Maybe Lenny and Tess will get another chance. Together.”
“That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Abe put his arm around my shoulders, and this time it didn’t feel awkward. It felt right.
Abe put out a hand and tilted the photo a little more to the left. “I’m going to give my two-week notice at Rockefeller tomorrow. If they’ll let me go sooner, I will. Want me to keep coming around here till I go? Get you back into the swing of your paperwork?”
I nodded, my voice gone again.
“Okay, then,” Abe said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The door opened. “I do love you.” The door shut. Abe was gone.
I stood there waiting for his car to leave and heard rumbling coming down the lane. But it didn’t sound like Lenny’s bike. It sounded like mine. My heart beat a little faster.
I looked out the window. Abe stood beside his car, watching Lenny drive in. Lenny stopped the bike—
my
bike—and sat for a moment, looking back at Abe.
Lenny nodded at Abe. Abe nodded back. Then Abe got into his Camry and drove away. When the dust had settled, I went outside.
“You brought my baby home,” I said.
Lenny didn’t ask about Abe, and I was thankful for that. Lenny stood between me and the bike, hiding the tank, which he must’ve gotten from the Grangers and painted during the past few days. He had wanted to spend every moment with Bart at Grandview, but with the demands of the Biker Barn he hadn’t been able to be there as much as he’d hoped. I guess my bike was the project he needed to keep his mind off his best friend lying in the hospital.
“Hope you don’t mind I came by and swiped the fork while you weren’t looking,” he said. “I wanted to get it on for you. It ain’t polished, but it works.”
“Looks great,” I said. “How’s it drive?”
“Like a gem.”
“Can’t wait to try it.” I took a step toward the bike, but Lenny blocked me.
“Bart said I’m supposed to give you a big kiss.” He looked at me skeptically.
“Let’s say you did.”
“Works for me. Anyhow, he’s doing good. They’ll probably let him come home in a day or two. He’s gonna stay with me till he’s feeling better.”
“And Mal?”
“Sweetheart’s doing okay, I guess. A little fried in the head, but physically nothing was hurt that can’t heal.”
Lenny glanced up, and Lucy peeked out of the house’s side door. Lenny waved. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”
She smiled and stepped back inside, closing the door.
“We’re going out for lunch,” he said to me. “Need to try out Lucy’s new Civic.”
“Great.”
We looked at each other.
“So what about you?” I finally said. “What’s going to happen about the explosion twenty years ago?”
“Nothing. Would you believe it? Crockett and I went in and told Willard everything. I even took a lie-detector test. Willard said he’ll look at things again, but seeing as how they didn’t have evidence against me back then—well, except hearsay—he doesn’t think they’ll find any now. And he seems to believe me about the threats against my…against Kristi and Vonda.” His face clouded, and I decided to change the subject.
“So why aren’t you letting me get to the bike?”
He shifted on his feet. “I did something to the tank you might not like. I thought it was perfect at the time, but now I’m not so sure.”
“So what’s the worst that can happen?” I said. “If I hate it, I’ll just make you paint it over.”
He grinned. “Forgot about that. Okay. Tell me what you think.”
He stepped aside, and I caught my breath. Tears stung my eyes and I looked away, not wanting Lenny to see them.
The design he’d painted wasn’t something I’d have wanted a week before. In fact, I would have been annoyed if he’d done it. But now it was perfect.
The tank was black, like it used to be, but the Harley emblem was gone. Blue ghost flames started bright at the front, fading out three-quarters of the way back. The flames surrounded some words painted expertly in sparkling blue script.
The words read, “Daddy’s Princess.”
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