Hushed

by Gina Robinson

  "No official T-shirt? You're not as organized and official as we are," I teased, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice.

  "Mom says you're only home part of the week of spring break. Something about a food science trip to the Methow Valley wine country for a few days? Do you have an official shirt for that, too?"

  Yes, that was the lie I'd fed my mom so I could sneak away to Seth's. The food science club was always taking trips to food companies, dairies, or wineries at the end of vacations. Wineries hired a lot of food scientists, so it was a natural. And not at all unusual or suspicious.

  "No, no shirt. But we're designing an apron to sell to raise funds for the club." I gave him a playful punch. "But you, you're going to Hawaii! No fair."

  "Life's not fair, sis. That's the way it is." He laughed. "A couple of the guys got here early and saved us a table. Want to join us?"

  I caught a glimpse of Seth heading back to the table. "Thanks," I said, thinking on my feet. "But this is one of those Let's not step on each other's toes situations. I have my club and you have your group. I was just about to leave, anyway." I went up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Let's get together before break."

  One of the guys Ian was with tapped his arm and said something to him, distracting Ian just long enough.

  "Catch you later!" I said to him, and dashed off.

  I managed to intercept Seth, grab my coat, and pull him out of the bar before he had a chance to glance back at Ian. I was so relieved, and euphoric, about having avoided a disastrous chance meeting that my knees almost gave out.

  Laughing, I caught Seth's arm and pulled him along.

  We ran laughing, tipsy, high on love, hand in hand to his apartment complex up the hill from The Night Crawler.

  His apartment was dark and empty. He shut the door and locked it as I shed my coat and shoes and pulled him toward his room. Once inside, I had my T-shirt off before he got the door closed.

  "Hey! That's my job."

  "Then get over here and do it!" I unzipped my jeans and shimmied out of them.

  He threw his arms around me and unfastened my bra. I helped him slide it off my shoulders.

  "Now this is a sight I like." He pushed my breasts together until the nipples touched, and he licked them while I moaned softly.

  "No teasing." My voice was breathless as I pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, the large twin of mine.

  He helped me pull it off and tossed it aside.

  I couldn't get him out of his clothes fast enough, kissing him as I disrobed him. Pressing my kisses to his lips, his neck, his chest.

  When he was naked and silhouetted in the light that filtered through the thin curtains, I playfully shoved him on his back on the bed. It was crazy, maybe, but the feeling of physically controlling him turned me on. It was only an illusion. He could have overpowered me at any time. But he let me have my way as I climbed on top of him and mounted him.

  "No foreplay?" He grabbed my hips as I rode him.

  "Isn't that what the whole night has been?" My eyes were adjusting to the dark. I loved looking at him as I moved with him. Loved being on top, breasts bouncing, and seeing the desire on his face. Hearing his moans.

  "Keep doing that and I won't be able to hang on long." He pushed up into me with a powerful thrust.

  "Neither will I." I leaned down and covered his mouth with mine, running my tongue along his lips.

  He tasted seductively like beer and partying. I loved him. I wanted him and no one else. And I was so afraid it would all come crashing down. That our families would fly apart and ruin this beautiful thing.

  I broke the kiss. "I love you."

  I meant it with all my heart. I loved him like I had never loved anyone.

  He caught me off guard and flipped us over, pounding into me as he pressed my arms above my head. "I love you, too. So. Damn. Much."

  I gasped with every thrust. Until the waves building in me crashed and the climax that came made me gasp with its power. He kept thrusting, and the aftershocks of pleasure kept coming until tears slid down my cheeks and he collapsed on top of me, hot and sweaty.

  His hair smelled like pub food and smoke, fresh air, and wintry nights. I held on to it, trying to memorize everything about this.

  "Wow." He took a deep breath. "Pub crawls are my new favorite thing if they always get you this hot."

  He had no idea what really drove me.

  A tear of both joy and fear slid down my cheek.

  "Hey, are you crying?" His voice was incredibly tender as he wiped it away.

  "That was so powerful."

  The look of satisfaction and love on his face was priceless. Like this had never happened to him like this before, either. So powerful it rocked the foundations of my emotions.

  He slid out of me and rolled beside me. "We're going to have to go back to The Night Crawler again. Soon."

  "No!"

  He leaned up on one elbow and frowned as he looked at me.

  "Don't go there again. Not ever. Not without me."

  His frown deepened, like he didn't understand me.

  And I couldn't explain.

  "What we had tonight is such a beautiful thing. Let's not…let's not ruin the memory." It was lame, but it was the best I could do.

  I couldn't chance Ian and Seth bumping into each other. I was going to have to do something. Come clean soon. Without ruining everything. But how?

  Chapter 12

  Maddie

  A grand deception requires a grand plan. When Mom asked if I needed money for the food science trip, I told her I'd worked off my fee by putting enough hours in at the university-run ice cream shop. Which is what we commonly did. To avoid any objections, I stressed how important it was to my future career to make contacts in all the food industries.

  I asked Zach to cover for me if Mom got suspicious. And I threw Mom under the bus by telling Seth that lying to Mom about having to go on a food science trip was the only way I was going to get away with leaving a few days early. Like she was a real bitch or something.

  "I'm not ready to tell her about you," I said truthfully. It was the only truthful part of my story, but there it was. "She'll read too much into this trip."

  Seth hugged me close. "Wow, you really are more commitment averse than I am. Should I be worried?"

  "No!" I pressed my head to his chest. "Not at all." I tried to laugh it off. "It's just, Mom will object to me going to a guy's house that she hasn't even heard about. Right now, I don't need the hassle. She's stressed about wedding stuff and…it's just better this way. Trust me."

  Friday afternoon, I loaded up my car and headed to Seth's to say goodbye. Olivia and I usually traveled together, but she had flown out earlier in the day to join her family for a week in Cabo. Ian left for Hawaii the next morning.

  Zach was driving Alexis home. The three of us were headed to Seattle. Seth was going to the Chelan area. We were going to caravan until Seth peeled off our route and headed north.

  They were waiting for me in their parking lot, loaded and ready to go.

  I clung to Seth. "I'm going to miss you."

  "Six days. And then spring break really begins." He kissed me.

  "Hey, break it up and let's roll!" Zach slapped Seth on the back.

  Seth shoved him away and looked me in the eye. "I'm going to miss you, too." He opened my car door for me. "Drive safely." He closed the door and blew me a kiss through the glass.

  And we were off. Two hundred miles into the three-hundred-mile drive, we pulled off to gas up before heading over the mountains. A quick fill up and passionate kiss and Seth and I parted ways. He headed north. Zach, Alexis, and I headed west. I drove the last hundred miles with my music blaring, trying to drown out the thoughts that kept popping up. This isn't going to work. You're going to ruin everything.

  When I arrived around eight, Mom and Ken were waiting in the living room with the lights on and the blinds open. As soon as my car was in the driveway, they were out on the front porch.
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  Mom pulled me into a hug the second I stepped out of the car, and then peppered me with questions. "How was the drive? How was the weather over the mountains? How was the traffic? How did you do on your test this morning?"

  These were the everyday questions that kept my mom worrying. In her mind, I would always be her baby. A beginner driver in a sea of dangerous traffic and frightening weather conditions.

  "I feel good about my test. An A- at worst, I think. Traffic was your usual spring break rush to get out of town, an endless stream. Some maniacs and some idiots."

  Which was one of Dad's references. Maniacs were drivers who wanted to go faster than you. Idiots wanted to go slower.

  "Weather was fine. Road conditions great."

  Which she would have known, because my mom was a consummate weather watcher and would have been checking the DOT mountain pass reports and traffic cameras about every half an hour.

  Ken had been standing back, politely watching the reunion. He came forward, gave me an awkward hug, and grabbed my bags when I popped my trunk.

  I was hyperaware of Ken. Watching him and Mom like a cat watches prey. Trying to decide how each felt about the other, as if I was some kind of relationship expert. But, corny as it sounded, for the first time ever, I felt like I knew what love was. What it really felt like. The scorch of burning passion. The pang of longing when you were apart. Two hours away from Seth and I missed him already. I texted him that I'd arrived safely.

  He texted back, Home, too, and missing you. I'm a poet and didn't know it!

  I had to suppress a smile.

  Mom caught me anyway. You know moms. They have eyes in the backs of their heads and a sixth sense for when you're hiding something from them. She raised one eyebrow. "Good message?"

  I shook my head. "Just Zach and his girlfriend saying they got home safely, too."

  She didn't look completely satisfied with my answer. "I made cake!"

  Ken nodded. "And it looks delicious! I've barely been able to keep my fork out of it."

  Ken was in his late fifties. Slender, for the most part. But paunchy in the middle. Out of shape. Average height. Thinning gray hair. Glasses that were serviceable, not stylish.

  The best way to describe Ken was bland and average, with a twist of nerd. He was an engineering technical fellow at a large airplane manufacturer. Wind tunnel studies were his specialty. Yeah, boring. And he looked the engineering part, if you know what I mean. On a scale of one to ten, even narrowing the field to guys his age, he maybe rated a four, possibly a five if I were in a super-generous mood.

  As he slid past Mom with my bags, the difference between them was startling. Although he was only a few years older than she was, he looked a good ten or fifteen years her senior.

  Even casually dressed, Mom was slender and toned, stylish in skinny jeans and an oversize sweatshirt. Her hair balayaged to a beautiful blond that fell to her shoulders, cut in an age-appropriate yet youthful style. An easy ten to his four. A mismatch that gave Ken all the prestige.

  I frowned. Ken had been one of Dad's good friends, a longtime bachelor. He was a nice guy. But as a love interest?

  "Let's eat!" Mom held the door open for Ken.

  I followed Mom and Ken inside.

  In the kitchen after he deposited my luggage, I watched Ken watching Mom while she sliced a chocolate layer cake. Their relationship had bloomed since I'd gone to college my sophomore year. I hadn't thought too much about it. Fortunately for me, they kept it private and weren't too mushy while I was around. There was no doubt, watching Ken, that he was a man besotted, in love, head over heels. Now there was a picture. Aren't our heads pretty much always over our heels?

  Mom cut him a thick slice of cake and served him first.

  He beamed, absurdly pleased. Like he was king for a day.

  The thing was, I knew Mom's cake-cutting operandi. It's much easier to get a thick first piece out of a cake than a thin one, like she and I liked. If Ian had been here instead of Ken, he would have gotten the first slice. Any guy, really, would have done.

  Mom, on the other hand, treated Ken like they were an old married couple. With consideration and attention. Friendly, but where was the heat? Not that I wanted to see a manifestation of it. But, you know, a glimpse of it would have been somewhat reassuring.

  You know how a memory can hit you out of the blue? Strike you and bring up an emotion that has no name but is as clear to you as daylight? One that puts you in another time and place.

  I remembered her serving cake to Dad on his last birthday. It was just a snatch of a memory. Nothing special. Just the way she put the cake on the plate, flipping it so the frosting was on the left side of the plate, like he preferred. The way she set the fork alongside.

  Just like she was now. With the same look on her face as she assessed the crumb of the cake, as if she was pleased with her baking efforts. The way her face changed to simple kindness as she handed it to Ken, in the way she had to Dad.

  I was struck, feeling it almost physically. She's looking at Ken the same way she used to look at Dad.

  I used to think that was the look of love, romantic love. I mean, everything your family does seems like the norm, the way it is for everyone. Because that's all you know. So that's the way two married people looked at each other in my world.

  I'd grown up since then. Now that look was upsetting, illusion shattering. Not because Ken had replaced Dad as the love of her life. But because she wasn't looking at Ken like a woman in love.

  It took me a second to breathe again. I remembered Dad on his deathbed, clutching my hand.

  "Take care of your mom, Maddie, my baby girl. She's going to need you. And Ian. She's the love of my life." He sounded almost sad.

  I had thought, at the time, it was because he was dying. And everything was sad and especially poignant.

  He squeezed my hand. "And you two are the love of hers. Hold on to each other."

  At the time, it seemed reassuring. It was clear to me now what was missing. He hadn't said he was the love of hers. He'd left himself out. Intentionally. Maybe it wasn't his to tell. Or maybe he knew he wasn't and couldn't lie about it, even with death beckoning.

  "Maddie?" Mom was holding a piece of cake out to me.

  Startled, I reached for the plate. "Sorry. I zoned out. My brain's fried. Tests. Long drive. Long day." I sighed to cover my real thoughts.

  "Completely understandable." She smiled sympathetically as she put a hand on my shoulder. "And under ordinary circumstances, I would let you sleep in tomorrow as long as you like and just catch up on your rest. But tomorrow's the bridal show!" Her exclamation point seemed forced. "We want to get there early before it gets too busy." She patted me. "Sorry. You'll have to keep your zoning out and fatigue to a minimum."

  I smiled to reassure her that I was excited for her. It was like we were playing charades. "Are you telling me to eat my cake and go to bed?"

  She laughed. "I'm saying I need you fully rested for a day on your feet!"

  Across the table from me, Ken was beaming.

  Bridal fairs are not for the faint of heart. We pulled up to the Tacoma Dome at minutes before nine. I yawned, still not fully awake even after drinking a tall mocha.

  Mom put the car in park and thumped the steering wheel. "This is it!"

  She sounded determined more than excited.

  I got out of the car and followed her into the event center. There were booths as far as the eye could see, hocking everything from cakes to venues. Flowers, groom's gifts, DJ services, catering, wedding interior design, cakes, and destination honeymoons.

  There were brides, brides, brides everywhere, with their entourages in tow.

  At the door, a bridal show employee handed us a map and a goodie bag to hold all of our brochures and samples. "Be sure to enter all the drawings! The grand prize is an all-expense paid wedding!" She looked pointedly at me.

  I turned to Mom as the crowd carried us inside. "Where do you want to start?"

/>   "Venues." She took a deep breath. "Without a venue, everything else is moot."

  I scanned the room. "The booths don't appear to be in any order. We'll have to work our way around the room. To the left or to the right?"

  She bit her lip, looking overwhelmed already. "To the right. We'll just go booth by booth."

  Walking through the event hall was like being in wedding wonderland. A kind of fantasyland where every booth was another wedding theme. Like you could just step into a booth with a groom and be done.

  Some of the booths were decorated with chandeliers and flowers, tables with elegant place settings. Any theme of wedding you wanted, you could find a sample setup of it here.

  The first booth we came to was a bakery. Four-tiered cakes covered with the most beautiful gum paste flowers sat in the center. All around them were tables filled with little plastic cups, and I mean tiny, containing bite-size pieces of cake.

  "Cake at night. Cake first thing in the morning. It seems to be the theme of my life. I can't escape it."

  "We can bypass it," Mom said.

  "Not on your life." I stepped forward and read the sign cards. "Chocolate ganache. Raspberry lemonade. Pink champagne!"

  One of the women manning the booth approached us. She smiled at me. "Try as many as you like." She handed me a brochure. "Here's our price list and a bit about us. Is this your first bridal show?"

  "Yes." I nodded, relieved at her sympathetic smile.

  "Have you set a date yet?"

  I turned to Mom.

  "Summer next year."

  "Excellent!" The woman smiled at me. "Plenty of time for planning. Have you booked the venue? Will your wedding be local?"

  "Oh!" I finally got it. I pulled Mom forward. "I'm not the bride. My mom is." I pointed to Mom.

  "So sorry!" The woman laughed. "One should never assume. But really, you two look like you could be sisters."

  And so the flattery and upsell of Mom began as the lady grilled her about what she was looking for and whether she'd picked a bakery yet.

  At booth after booth, I was mistaken for the bride and Mom for the mother of the bride. It was a natural enough assumption. There weren't that many fifty-something-year-old brides in attendance. Finally, a woman at one of the photography booths gave Mom a big sticker that said "bride" and a "maid of honor" one for me.