Secrets Kept

by Allie Everhart

  He's right. I hadn't even thought about that. His mom is just like my dad, except it sounds like she hides it better.

  "And there's also the fact that I care about you. A lot. I want to be there for you, in whatever capacity you need me."

  His words warm my heart. That might be the nicest thing a guy has ever said to me.

  "What do you say?" he asks.

  "Yes. I'd like you to come with. I'm nervous. I'm afraid of what I'll find when I get there."

  "I feel the same way whenever I go home. I never know what condition I'll find her in, especially if I stop by during the day when she's alone."

  "And you've never confronted her about it?"

  "I did. Once. When I was 14."

  "And what did she do?"

  "Denied it. Told me I was being disrespectful for even suggesting she might've had too much to drink. After that she was more careful around me. If I showed up when she wasn't expecting me to be home and she was drunk, she'd say she wasn't feeling well and go hide in her room."

  "Bishop, you going with us?" I hear a guy yell.

  "I'm not sure," he yells back. "If I go, I'll meet you there."

  "Sounds good."

  I hear a door close. "Sorry about that."

  "You should go. It sounds like they're leaving."

  "Not for a few more minutes. Why don't I just pick up a pizza and come over there? I don't need to go out with those guys tonight."

  "You need to spend time with your friends. It's part of the college experience. Hanging out with the guys on your floor? Going out for pizza?"

  "I have all year to do that. Right now, I feel like I should be with you."

  "That's sweet, but really, I'm fine. Go hang out with the guys. Megan is here. We'll have a girls' night."

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah. Go have fun. We'll talk tomorrow. "

  "You free for lunch?"

  "Yeah. At noon. But I only have an hour."

  "I'll pick you up. We'll go have lunch since you're working tomorrow night."

  "Okay. See you then."

  Just talking to Gavin in that short time made me feel better about my dad. And I feel even better knowing Gavin's going with me on Wednesday. Maybe I should tell my dad I'm bringing Gavin. I don't usually bring guys home to meet my dad so I should at least give him a heads-up.

  I send him a text. Hey, Dad. Just letting you know I'm bringing a friend with on Wednesday. Hope that's okay.

  He texts right back. Sure. I haven't seen Megan forever.

  It's not Megan. It's a guy.

  There's a pause, then a text pops up. Is this your boyfriend?

  Yes. I didn't want to make the drive alone and he offered to take me. You don't mind, do you?

  No. I'd like to meet this boy.

  Oh, God. He's going to interrogate Gavin. I wasn't even thinking about that. My dad will go into P.I. mode and question Gavin about everything under the sun. It'll be so embarrassing. But if anyone can handle it, Gavin can. He's very confident and sure of himself.

  It'll be fine. Besides, we won't be there long. And who knows? Maybe my dad will like Gavin.

  Feeling better about the whole situation, I search the apartment for Megan and find her in her room, on her laptop, of course.

  "No more working tonight," I tell her as I go in her room. "We're having girls' night."

  "What are you talking about?" She continues to type.

  "A girls' night. You know. Pizza. Movies. We'll paint each other's nails."

  She laughs. "Yeah, that's funny."

  "I'm not joking." I take her laptop. "C'mon. Let's order a pizza and pick out a movie to watch."

  She stares at me. "We haven't done that in years."

  "Because you never stop working. You spend all your time glued to your laptop."

  She smiles. "You really want to paint each other's nails?"

  "Yeah. Definitely. We'll do it while we watch the movie."

  "Okay." She hops off her bed. "What made you want to do this?"

  "Gavin. He's going out with the guys tonight and I thought...you know what? We never have girls' night anymore. We should totally do that."

  She grabs her phone. "I'll order the pizza. Let's get two so we have leftovers."

  And so our girls' night begins. If Gavin hadn't called, I'd probably still be in bed, worrying about my dad. But now? I feel hopeful. Like everything will be okay. That's gotta be a sign he's the right guy for me. I hope it is, because I really want him to be that guy. The one I end up with someday.

  Chapter Fifteen

  On Wednesday, Gavin picks me up at eight in the morning and we head to my dad's house, which is about an hour away. When we arrive, my dad is sitting on the front porch, having a cup of coffee. He has a small two-story house that he bought after he and my mom divorced. He could've just got an apartment or condo but he picked this place because he wanted me to have a house to go to when I visited him. And he liked it because it has a big yard I could play in when I was a kid, along with a giant oak tree out back that he attached a swing to.

  Despite his issues with alcohol, he really is a great dad. I remember one time I asked him to braid my hair because for some reason, I went through this phase where I had to wear braids every day. He had no idea how to braid hair but he tried. It turned out terrible, which made me cry because I was only seven and at that age, not having your braids done right was a catastrophe of epic proportions. Dad ended up taking me to a salon to have it done. Thinking back on that now, I think it's so sweet. A big, tough, rough-around-the-edges former cop trying to braid his daughter's hair, then hanging out at a beauty salon to make his little girl happy. I bet all the women who were there that day were swooning over him because of that. And also because my dad's tall and muscular and has a handsome face with bright blue eyes that match mine. I've always wondered why he's never dated much over the years. He could certainly find someone if he wanted to.

  "His name's Craig," I say to Gavin as he pulls up to the house. My dad spots us and stands up. "But you should probably call him Mr. Norris until he tells you otherwise."

  "Anything else I should know?" Gavin asks, eyeing my dad.

  He looks the same as always. Same salt and pepper hair, cut short. Same strong demeanor. He holds himself like a military guy, shoulders back, head up. And he's wearing the same serious expression that's always on his face. Except just now when he saw me, he broke into a smile.

  "He's a little protective of me," I say with a laugh. "But I think you can handle him."

  "Am I the first guy you've brought home to meet him?"

  "No. He's met a couple guys I've dated." I pause. "They're no longer around."

  "What?" Gavin shuts the car off and looks at me.

  "Kidding!" I laugh. "Relax. My dad looks tough but he's really a big softie." I smile. "At least with me he is. With you? It's hard to say. He'll probably want to show you his gun collection."

  "You're joking, right?"

  "No. That actually wasn't a joke. He probably will show you his guns." I go to open my door.

  "Wait. Let me get it." Gavin hurries out of the car and goes around to open my door.

  As I get out, my dad approaches me. "Hi, honey." He holds his arms out for a hug.

  Now that I'm here hugging my dad, I realize how much I've missed him. Why did I stay away for so long? I used to tell myself I was helping him by staying away, thinking that if I didn't come see him, it would force him to stop drinking. But I don't have that kind of power. I have to keep reminding myself that he has to decide to change. Nothing I do or say will make him stop drinking if he doesn't want to.

  "Hey, Dad." I pull back. "You look good."

  He really does look good. His eyes are bright and alert. His skin has color. He's in good shape. He seems healthy. Like he hasn't been drinking, and not just for a week or two, but for a while. Maybe he's finally quit for good this time.

  "And you are?" He looks at Gavin.

  "Oh, sorry," I say. "This is Ga
vin."

  Gavin extends his hand and smiles. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Norris."

  My dad shakes his hand but his serious expression is back. "How long have you been seeing Kate?"

  "About two weeks."

  "Two weeks?" My dad looks at me. "You're bringing a boy home to meet me after only two weeks?"

  Damn. We should've lied and said we'd dated for longer. But I doubt my dad would've believed us. As a P.I, he's good at sniffing out lies.

  "We should go inside," I say, ignoring my dad's question. I loop my arm around his and start walking to the house, leaving Gavin to trail behind. Maybe bringing Gavin with was a bad idea. I forgot how crazy my dad gets when I bring a guy home.

  We go in the house to the living room. Gavin goes to sit in my dad's recliner and I quickly shake my head at him. Nobody sits in my dad's recliner. Except maybe me, but no one else is allowed.

  I take a seat on the couch and motion with my eyes for Gavin to sit next to me. He does, but keeps at least a foot between us, which is what I was hoping he would do. My dad would freak if he saw Gavin and me sitting close or holding hands or, heaven forbid, kissing. My dad doesn't like PDA, at all, but especially PDA involving his daughter and her boyfriend.

  "So..." My dad sits in his recliner but keeps his back straight, head up, his eyes bouncing between Gavin and me. "How have you been, Kate?"

  "Good. I've been busy. I work a lot."

  "Still working for the catering company?"

  "Yeah." I pause, wondering how he knew that. Last time I saw him, I was working as a waitress at a seafood restaurant. "How'd you know I work there?"

  "Your mother told me," he says.

  "You talked to Mom?"

  "A few months ago. I wanted to know how you were doing."

  "Oh." I look down, once again feeling bad that I've gone this long without talking to him. Even if I didn't come see him, I could've at least called. Then again, he could've called me too and he didn't. But I made it clear that day I left that I didn't want to hear from him.

  "Don't be mad at your mother," he says. "I told her not to mention we talked."

  I look up at him. "I'm not mad. I understand."

  But I'm a little angry at my mom for talking to Dad about me behind my back. I know he told her not to say anything but she should have anyway. My mom and I don't normally keep secrets from each other.

  The room goes silent. My dad keeps looking at Gavin like he doesn't want him here.

  "So, Gavin, how did you and my daughter meet?"

  "We met at a dinner party at my parents' house. Kate was one of the servers."

  "It was one of my catering jobs," I add.

  "Do your parents have a lot of catered dinners?" my dad asks Gavin.

  Let the interrogation begin. That one question will spark a whole series of questions meant to gather as much info as possible about Gavin; about his family, his childhood, what his parents do, their income. My dad will then use this info to decide if Gavin can be trusted or not. But whatever Gavin says, my dad still won't trust him because he trusts no one.

  "They tend to have a lot of catered events," Gavin answers. "Especially now, with the campaign."

  "What campaign?"

  "My dad is running for the Senate."

  "Niles Bishop?"

  "Yeah. He used to be governor."

  "Yes. I know who he is." My dad focuses back on me. "You didn't mention you were dating the son of a politician."

  I didn't mention it because my dad hates politicians. So I purposely didn't tell him.

  "It's not really relevant," I say, giving my dad a look, begging him not to make a big deal out of this.

  "Are you involved in his campaign?" my dad asks Gavin.

  "I help with his promotional efforts, mainly online communications. His website. Social media. That type of stuff. I'm majoring in political science so it's good experience for me."

  "Sounds like his father's job IS relevant," my dad says to me.

  "So what have you been up to, Dad?" I ask, changing the topic. "How's your business doing?"

  "Good. I have more work than I can handle. I'm thinking of bringing someone in to help out."

  "That's great. Is it still mostly the cheating spouse work?"

  "Yes. Unfortunately that seems to be more and more of an issue. People can't seem to be faithful. Both men and women."

  "What other types of cases do private investigators handle?" Gavin asks.

  It's good he's asking questions. Acting interested in my dad's work will win Gavin some bonus points.

  "Cold cases," my dad answers. "Unsolved cases the police have given up on. Murders. Missing person cases. That type of thing."

  "Do you ever get any of those?"

  "I used to but..." His eyes get distant and then he quickly shakes his head. "I don't handle those types of cases anymore. I keep plenty busy spying on cheating spouses."

  That was odd. Where did he go just now? He totally spaced out for a moment.

  "Where do you go to school?" And just like that, my dad is back to questioning Gavin.

  "I go to Moorhurst. I'm a senior. I transferred there from Princeton."

  "Moorhurst," my dad repeats, his head cocked to the side. "Why Moorhurst?"

  "I wanted to live closer to my parents so I could help with the campaign."

  "Your parents thought that was a good idea? To drop out of an Ivy League school when you only had a year left?"

  "They encouraged me to transfer. Moorhurst is an excellent school, and given the timing of the election, I had to move here now if I wanted to help my dad. I couldn't wait until after I graduated."

  "And how do you like Moorhurst?"

  "It's only been a few weeks but so far I like it."

  "You like the people there?"

  "Dad," I say, urging him to stop this line of questioning. He's trying to prove that Gavin is a rich snob because of his family and where he goes to school so that he can try to convince me later that Gavin is not my type of guy.

  "It's simply a question," he says.

  "The answer is yes," Gavin says. "I like the people there, at least the ones I've met so far, although I haven't spent much time with them because I've been spending time with your daughter." He smiles at me.

  Damn. That was the wrong thing to say.

  "How much time?" my dad asks, his jaw clenched.

  "He just means that we have lunch together almost every day, or sometimes dinner, so Gavin doesn't get to eat in the dining hall much, which is usually when you meet people."

  Gavin's looking at me, probably trying to figure out what he can and can't say. I should've prepped him better. But like I said, it's been forever since I brought a guy home to meet my dad. I should've told Gavin about the no-PDA rule and warned him about how my dad pays close attention to tone and body language to see if you're lying. Maybe I could still warn him.

  "Do you have any coffee?" I ask my dad.

  "I just made it. There's a full pot in there."

  "I think I'll have some." I get up. "Gavin, could you help?"

  "Sure." He stands up and says to my dad, "Would you like some?"

  "No. Not right now."

  Gavin and I go in the kitchen and I whisper to him, "No PDA. My dad hates it. I forgot to tell you that."

  "Did I do something wrong?"

  "No, I'm just warning you in case you get the urge to hold my hand. Or do something else, like kiss me, which could quite possibly get you killed."

  His brows rise. "You're joking, right?"

  "Um, yeah." I bite my lip. "But still, don't do it. Don't hold my hand or put your arm around me."

  "That's crazy. I can't even hold your hand?"

  "It'd just make things easier if you don't." I go around him and grab two mugs from the hooks that hang under the counter. "Did you want coffee?"

  "Not really but since he made it, I'll have some."

  I hand him the cups. "You pour it. I'm going to look around."

  "Kate, are
you sure you want to do that?"

  I don't answer him. I just start searching the cupboards. I have to know if my dad's drinking again. It doesn't seem like he is, but you never know.

  "Kate," I hear Gavin say.

  "Yeah, just a minute." I'm on my hands and knees, searching under the sink behind the garbage can.

  "There aren't any," I hear my dad say. "You can stop searching."

  I slowly back out of the cupboard and see my dad standing next to me, his arms crossed. I stand up and face him.

  "Would you give us a minute?" my dad says to Gavin.

  "Sure." He sets the coffee mugs down and goes back to the living room.

  "Is that why you came here?" my dad asks.

  "No. I came to see you."

  "And to see if I'm drinking."

  I shrug and my eyes go to his. "Can you blame me?"

  "After what happened last time, I wouldn't have let you come here if I was drinking. I wouldn't dare risk losing my daughter again."

  "You're saying you would've told me if you were drinking again?"

  "Yes. As much as I'd hate to admit it, I'd tell you. But I'm not, Kate. I'm not drinking. That's the God's honest truth. Search the whole house if you don't believe me. Search the garage. Search my truck. You won't find anything."

  For once, I actually believe him. He's never offered to let me search the house. And he's never seemed this sincere. Plus, he looks really good, not like someone who's been drinking.

  "How long's it been?" I ask. "When did you stop?"

  "The day after you left. That night I drank so much I don't even remember what happened. I woke up the next morning in the woods behind the house, half dressed, empty bottles all around me. I drank so much I'm surprised I woke up."

  "Dad." I touch his arm, knowing this is hard for him to talk about. It's hard for me to hear. I should've checked on him that night. I knew he was upset after our fight, after I walked out and told him I never wanted to see him again. I knew he'd drink that night. I just didn't know how much.

  "After that, I went cold turkey. Spent the next week throwing up, my body shaking, head pounding. Didn't sleep a wink for days. But it was what I had to go through to get it out of my system. Still, the cravings were bad. So bad I had a buddy of mine come over and stay here and keep me locked in my room so I couldn't go to the liquor store. He left a week later and then it was up to me. I had to do it alone. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But you know how I stayed on track?"