Keeping Secrets in Seattle

by Brooke Moss

  She nodded, impressed. “You pulled out all the stops, huh?”

  I chewed my lip. “Well, it’s for Gabe.”

  His expression said it all. Appreciation, admiration, excitement, and…pity.

  Once all the guys had felt their way around and realized that I’d rented a limousine, my popularity went up a few notches. Nora waved good-bye, and we were on our way. I cranked one of Gabe’s favorite bands, letting the music thunder through the cab as I handed each of the guys a frosty beer from Gabe’s favorite microbrewery. The guys were still mildly irritated that they were blindfolded, but started chattering back and forth as we hit the I-5 highway toward Pioneer Square and downtown Seattle. Most of the ride was spent peppering me with questions and guesses about where the driver was taking us, and what we were doing.

  As soon as we came to a stop at our destination, the driver promptly came around to open my door.

  “Thank you,” I quipped, taking off my trench coat and tossing it back into the Hummer. “If you could help me bring in those boxes that are in the trunk, that would be great.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, trotting off.

  Each of Gabe’s friends emerged carefully, the breeze off the water a few blocks away ruffling their hair…or at least those who had hair.

  “I can smell the Sound. Are we at the waterfront?” Gabe asked. “I’m taking this thing off.”

  “No, you cannot take them off yet. And no, we are not at the waterfront.” I pulled the coffin cooler and yelled over my shoulder. “Put a hand on the shoulder in front of you, guys, and follow the sound of my voice.”

  “Oh, come on,” Greg whined.

  I stifled a laugh. “It will be worth it.”

  “Dude, are people watching us?” Dan asked loudly.

  I looked around; there were a few tourists standing across the parking lot taking pictures of the front of the building. “Yeah, there’s a few tourists. I think they’re from…India, maybe?”

  Gabe was grinning now. “Come on, Vi, tourists? Where are we?”

  I led the long strand of men toward a side entrance labeled Authorized Personnel Only, where a gawky man in his fifties stood waiting for us.

  As we approached, he smiled kindly at me. “I’m Dwight. We spoke on the phone.”

  I shook his hand. “Thank you for all your help.”

  “Anything for Leandra.” He let my line of blindfolded men pass, reminding each of them to watch their step. We walked across an office, then through a maze of echoing cement hallways, as Gabe called out guesses from the back of the pack.

  “Are we at the mall?”

  “No.”

  “The back entrance to a movie theater?”

  “No.”

  “A strip club?”

  “No, Dan.”

  “Dammit.”

  “Where the hell are we, then?”

  “Shut up and walk.”

  After five minutes of walking through the cement tunnels and crossing through heavy metal doorways, we came out to a tunnel lined in dark royal blue with a light at the end of it. I let Dwight lead the guys toward the source of the light and fell in step next to Guthrie.

  I touched his hand. “Take off your blindfold. I want you to see this before Gabe does.”

  He took the black cloth off his eyes and put his wire-rimmed glasses back on his face. His eyes had widened to the size of half dollars, and his face broke into the widest grin I’d ever seen him sport.

  We were at Safeco Field, home of the Mariners, walking out of the players’ tunnel onto the very field where his beloved M’s played every season. The retractable roof was open, and the late April sun was pouring onto the heavily manicured diamond, accentuating the vivid colors of the brown dirt, the white lines, and the short grass.

  I’d been to more Mariners games than most women my age, and Guthrie had been to at least three times as many as I had. Some of those games were spent in some impressive seats. But as we approached the sunlight at ground level, nothing could have compared to the beauty of being on the field itself.

  “I…what…how did you…?” Guthrie looked at me, and for a second, I thought he was going to cry. Instead, he put his arm around me and squeezed me close, kissing the top of my head. “You did really well. You are a wonderful, wonderful friend to my son.”

  Tears sprang in my eyes, and I blinked a few times. “Thanks,” I managed to choke out as we stepped onto the brown dirt and into the sunlight.

  The rows and rows of over 46,000 empty hard plastic seats stared down at us, and the deafening sound of silence filled my ears. Since the M’s were out of town for an away game, it was just us on the field. I’d never been to Safeco Field when it was so startlingly quiet. The only sound was that of Dwight, who’d cleared his throat, causing a mild echo to dance between the open-topped walls of the stadium. I waved at a delivery guy, who entered the field carrying a stack of pizza boxes and sat them down next to where I’d parked the giant cooler. I watched as several of the still-blindfolded guys sniffed the aroma of pizza.

  “Okay, guys.” I adjusted my pigtails, baseball pants, and jersey, my heart pounding in my ears. “Take off your blindfolds.”

  The blindfolds came off, and the sound of gasps and muttered approvals filled my ears. Each man was in complete and utter awe, with his mouth hanging open as he took in his surroundings. But I was only watching one face.

  Gabe peeled the dark strip of fabric off his face slowly, and one of his palms planted itself on his forehead. He turned in a circle, his feet coughing up small puffs of brown dust as he took each unhurried step. It looked like he was on the verge of passing out cold as he took in each detail. The thousands of empty seats. The empty dugouts and abandoned suites. The unlit scoreboard and JumboTron. Each of his guests wearing a personalized Mariners T-shirt with “Parker’s Last Night Of Freedom” stitched on the chest. The oversized cooler was open, revealing dozens of bottled of microbrews, sodas, and water, and the massive stack of steaming pizzas sat waiting for consumption.

  “Vi…” His voice came out barely above a whisper when his eyes finally settled on mine.

  We just stared at each other for a few minutes. Though I could sense growing awkwardness for everyone else, I didn’t dare look away. The only other thing on Gabe’s list was to play ball with his friends on the same field as his beloved Mariners.

  My grin was so wide it hurt. “Remember when you told me you wanted to play on this field?”

  He nodded, and it occurred to me that he couldn’t speak. I’d scored a home run—pun intended.

  “Well.” Dwight coughed uncomfortably. “You have three hours. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll leave you to your game, gentlemen. Oh, er, and…Violet.”

  I blinked out of my trance. “Thank you so much. Gabe, this is Dwight. My mother decorated his house on Lake Washington. Dwight is the director of the All-Star Club with the Mariners.”

  Gabe held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir. This is just…I…just…”

  Dwight nodded. “I know, son.”

  I couldn’t help but giggle. Gabe looked like a little boy again.

  Dwight waved. “I’ll be in my office working if you need anything. Have a good game.”

  I turned back to the guys, who were all looking around with open mouths. “All right, boys. You’ve got your jerseys, drinks are in the cooler, and pizza is in the boxes. Let’s make sure to get the trash into the bags I brought, so we can leave this place pristine, all right? Now let’s play some ball.”

  There was an explosion of cheers as they all flung themselves at the pizzas and began dividing themselves into teams. It was as if they’d regressed in age by decades, their eyes filled with wonder as they fondled the wooden bats I’d asked the driver to carry in, and their cheeks stretched tight as they jammed nearly whole slices of pizza into their mouths.

  I just watched from the outskirts of the group, sipping my bottle of water quietly by myself. After a few minutes, Curtis wandered over to me and bumped me with
his elbow. “Great job, kiddo.”

  I bumped him back. “It was a lot of work, but totally worth it.”

  He took a pull off his ale. “For a second, I thought that Gabe was going to cry.”

  I grinned. “I know.”

  Curtis watched me for a few beats. “I know this is hard on you. Gabe getting married and all.”

  “Yeah…it is,” I admitted.

  He tilted his head at me. “For the record, nice guys, or girls, don’t always finish last, you know.”

  I just stood there. Curtis and I had never exactly indulged in “heart to heart” conversations before. Sensing my hesitance, he went on. “Look at your mother and me. When you watch us, we don’t make sense. But in the end, you love who you love. So, nice guys, or girls, don’t always have to finish last.”

  I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Curtis.”

  He ran a hand over his balding head and blushed. “You’re welcome, kiddo. Which team you playing on tonight?”

  I realized that the group had divided themselves into two teams while shoveling pizza down their gullets, and that just Curtis, Uncle Roy, and I remained. Dan was nervously shifting his eyes between the three of us, trying to decide whom to pick. I laughed at the sight of Uncle Roy, standing there, sweating already, a sliver of paunchy white belly sticking out of the bottom hem of his jersey.

  “I’ll take Curtis,” Dan announced.

  I walked over to Roy and linked my arm through his. “I come in a group of two. Whoever gets me gets Roy here, too. And he has a mean curveball.”

  Roy patted my hand affectionately. “My favorite girl.”

  Gabe winked at me, a silent “thank you” between the two of us, then pointed his bat at us threateningly. “It’s on.”

  We played for three hours. Inning after inning after inning, nobody bothering to keep count—I’d lost count after 14. We played into the evening, and Dwight came out only when it was time for the custodial staff to clean, and to close the retractable ceilings. The floodlights covered the field in light as we ran from base to base, swung our bats as hard as we could, and slid on the sacred dirt of Safeco Field. By the time we were done, some of us were limping, Guthrie was gripping his hip as he walked with a grin on his face, Dan was sporting a swollen lip from a wayward ball I’d hit, Roy was wheezing, and every one of us were covered in dirt, grass stains, and sweat.

  Once the drinks and pizza were gone, and everyone was beaten up from the night of amateur baseball, we called it a draw. We packed up the balls and bats, cooler, and all of our garbage, then headed back to the parking lot. I brought up the rear, carrying a bag of garbage, following the men down into the dimly lit tunnels, grinning to myself. I’d done it. I’d thrown the ultimate, stripper-free bachelor party.

  Just as the group rounded a corner, a hand came out and pulled me back a few feet.

  “Gabe.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

  A flickering neon bulb overhead made it easier for us to see each other’s faces. He stared down at me with his hands on my shoulders, and I could see that the bewildered expression had returned to his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Gabe pulled me into a hug so fierce, every muscle in his chest tightened against my own. I gave in, melting against him, and wrapping my own arms around his middle. I drew in a long, deep breath, savoring in the smell of Gabe’s body—grass, dirt, sweat, pizza—knowing in my mind that smell would forever remind me of this night. He dug a hand into the back of my hair.

  “Vi.” Emotion made his voice deeper than usual. “You are so good to me.”

  “That’s why I’m your best friend.”

  “That you are. I love you.” He pressed his lips together.

  I was dizzy. “Me, too.”

  Gabe’s gaze was unreadable. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Do you remember the night you told me that you wanted to play ball on Safeco Field?”

  He nodded. “I remember.”

  Gabe looked torn. Like part of him wanted to close the space between us and press his face to mine, but the other part knew he should push me away. A brief image of Landon presenting me with train tickets to Canada for our first trip together flashed in my mind. Shoving it to the back corner of my mind, I gazed up at Gabe with anxious eyes. His grip tightened around my waist, and one of his palms came up to the back of my neck, where he grasped my hair loosely.

  “Vi, I…” His voice was hoarse with effort as he started to close the space between us.

  “We need to talk,” I croaked, my voice echoing in the cement tunnel. I needed to focus. There was still so much to tell Gabe.

  His head jerked back. “Right.”

  “You need to know about Cameron.” I swallowed the lump in my throat that appeared every time I said that name. It felt like it was made out of glass shards.

  “All right.” His eyes darkened, but his arms remained around my body.

  “And…I need to tell you some things about Alicia, too.” I cringed, waiting for his response.

  “Alicia? What?”

  “Dude. Where are you guys at?” Dan’s footsteps came too rapidly, and he skidded around the corner. His mouth dropped open when he spotted our arms around each other and Gabe’s fingers tangled in my hair. “Oh, uh, sorry.”

  Gabe’s arms dropped and he backed away from me. “No, Dan, we weren’t—”

  Dan whirled around and spoke with his back to the both of us. “Sorry. I, uh…was just looking for you. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Heat flared on my cheeks, spreading down my neck and under the collar of my shirt. “You didn’t interrupt anything.”

  Dan glanced at me as we all started hiking down the hall in awkward silence. “Sure I didn’t.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  September 7, 2003

  I heard the doorbell ring after I was out of the shower tonight. I was sitting on my bed in a towel, staring at the back of Gabe’s house while I cried, wondering when he would arrive. My mom said that I shouldn’t call Gabe to tell him what happened, but I knew that he would show up eventually. I just knew it. We’d been friends for too long, we were so in love…and I’d ditched him at Cameron’s an hour ago. It was just a matter of time.

  “Hello?”

  I closed my eyes and did a happy dance. Getting Gabe on the phone these days was a daunting task. We needed to meet. It was time for Gabe to know my secret and the dirt I had on Alicia. Of course, calling his office at work helped my chances. Score one for me.

  “Hey, it’s me. How’s it going?”

  “Vi, I was just thinking about you.”

  I pretended that my head didn’t whirl when he said that. “You were? Well, I’m calling because we didn’t really get a chance to talk after your party.”

  “No, I suppose we didn’t.” His voice had lost some of its enthusiasm.

  “Would it be all right if you took the afternoon off from wedding planning, so we could meet for some coffee?”

  “Ugh, I’m sorry. I can’t. We’ve got a menu tasting for the reception.”

  I thought for a moment. “Hmm. How about tomorrow morning? I don’t work until eleven. We could meet at Harold’s for doughnuts.”

  I heard Gabe shuffling some papers. “Crap. No can do. I’ve got a seven a.m. meeting.”

  “Okay, then.” I rubbed my eyes. “Why don’t you tell me when you have the time?”

  “I hope you aren’t upset with me. I’m just really swamped right now.”

  I leaned against my hydraulic chair and motioned for Lizzy to stop singing Lady Gaga falsetto. “I’m not upset, no. But…it’s just that a few months ago, all I had to say was Harold’s, and you’d have been in your car before we hung up.”

  He sighed. “I know.”

  “Everything is changing,” I said.

  There was a pause. A long pause in which I heard Gabe’s other lines ringing. Finally, he said, “Listen—” at the same time I blurted out, “
Well, how about Friday night?”

  “I can’t,” he said.

  “Oh, give me a break!” I groaned. “Are you avoiding me?”

  “No. Of course not. I—”

  “Gabe, I really need to talk to you. This is getting ridiculous. I don’t care if you don’t want to hear what I have to say.” I ran a hand through my hair, exasperated.

  “Whoa, okay, okay.”

  “It’s not okay!” My voice cracked, and I scooted out of the salon to the sidewalk. “I won’t relax until you sit down for ten minutes and listen to me. Friday night. Meet me at my place. Agreed?”

  He sighed. “Alicia got tickets for the Seattle Philharmonic on Friday night. I…I’m so sorry.”

  I would have laughed if I weren’t so pissed off. “The philharmonic? You told me that instrumental music gives you a stomachache.”

  “Alicia got tickets in the same private box as the mayor,” he said. “She’s really psyched about it. She says it will be good for our reputation to make friends with him.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I fought the urge to punch a hole in the window of The Funky Fox. “Who the hell cares if you’re friends with the damned mayor?”

  “Well, she wants to do charity work someday, and—”

  “I just threw up in my mouth.” My voice was low and defeated. “Fine, Gabe. Whatever.”

  “No, Vi, listen to me—”

  Lizzy tapped on the glass and motioned for me to get back onto the salon floor. “Gotta go. Have a great time at the philharmonic.”

  I hung up before he could say another word.

  …

  “I’ll miss you tonight.” Landon’s voice came through the phone and wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

  I smiled lazily. “I’ll miss you, too.”

  “Will you call me when you get in?”

  “Of course. I can’t wait until tomorrow morning.”

  He laughed. The sound was deep and crackly, and it made my heart squeeze. “I can’t, either. Victoria is beautiful in spring.”

  I sighed contentedly. “You are too good to me.”

  “Only because I love you,” he said.