Three Can Keep a Secret

by Judy Clemens

  Her eyes flashed. “I should be pissed about that, shouldn’t I? Wouldn’t you be angry if your father left when you were four?”

  I swallowed painfully. Kristi had no way to know I’d lost my father before I was even that old.

  “But who cares about that, anyway?” Kristi said. “I had a better dad than Lenny ever could’ve been.” She gestured to the older couple. “Stan and Lorene took Mom and me in the day we got abandoned by this asshole.” She jerked her thumb at Lenny, who looked like he wanted to disappear. “They’d come over to the Priests with Mom when the Serpents were phased out. Mom trusted them.”

  “But why go after Lenny now?” I said. “Haven’t you known for years who was suspected in the explosion?”

  “I never knew. But when The Skull died on Saturday, Stan and Lorene decided it was time I understood why I don’t have a ‘real’ father anymore. All I knew before was that four years after the Priests took us over Lenny split. Didn’t even tell Mom where he was going.”

  I glanced at Lenny, and he looked like he wanted to be any place but there.

  “Why hadn’t your mother told you about the explosion?” I asked Kristi. “And why isn’t she here?”

  Kristi stared at me. “Mom’s dead. Lung cancer got her almost ten years ago.”

  Lenny made a strangled sound.

  “But she hated Lenny,” Kristi said. “She thought he’d killed those guys. You’d think he would’ve at least told her what happened.”

  Lenny exhaled forcefully. “It was too dangerous for you. Every day The Skull reminded me what would happen if I didn’t keep my mouth shut. Every time he saw you with me he’d make a line across his throat, or point his fingers like a gun. I finally realized I had to leave you to keep you safe.” Tears formed in his eyes, and I prayed he’d be able to keep it together in front of these folks.

  “What a hero,” Kristi said, sneering. “Giving up everything to save the girl he thought was his daughter.”

  Lenny’s eyes snapped to her.

  “What do you mean?” I said. “The girl he thought was his daughter?”

  She looked at Lenny, her eyes reflecting steel in the artificial light. “My mom wouldn’t have had a baby with a Priest. She joined with Lenny as soon as the Serpents were swallowed up because she knew she was already pregnant. She didn’t want the Priests taking her baby away because it had been fathered by a Serpent.”

  Lenny turned a harsh red and then paled so abruptly I was afraid he was going to faint. I could see a question in his eyes, but knew he wouldn’t be able to ask it. So I did.

  “And your real father?”

  She stared at me. “My real father died when Lenny’s pal The Skull blew up the clubhouse. He was the Serpents’ vice president.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Lenny sank down onto the bumper of a truck, never taking his eyes from Kristi’s face. His face went through a startling series of expressions. The one he was left with was not surprisingly a mixture of betrayal and horror.

  The silence of the Serpents was heavy and loud. I was afraid to breathe for fear I might trigger something and let loose the arsenal of hatred seething under their tattered clothes. Turns out I didn’t need to.

  Kristi’s adopted father, Stan, broke the silence.

  “I think he needs to learn a little lesson,” he said.

  “For what?” I said. “Trying to protect Kristi all these years?”

  “You heard him. He could’ve stopped the explosion if he’d been smart enough. Besides, I’ve been waiting for this a long time.” He reached into his pocket and came out with a knife, its blade about four inches long.

  Skinny Ass followed suit, taking out his own weapon. I remembered his hand snaking into his vest at the Barn when Queenie had him cornered, and now I knew what he’d been going for.

  The whole group moved of one accord toward Lenny. Lenny stood motionless, seemingly resigned to what was coming.

  I wasn’t.

  “So which one of those blades sliced Bart?” I asked.

  Half a dozen heads snapped toward me, including Lenny’s. His face hardened when his brain caught up enough to put it together that these guys really were the ones who’d attacked Bart.

  “Was it Stan’s knife or Baldy’s?” I asked.

  “It was Raymond’s,” Kristi snapped.

  I snickered. “Raymond?”

  Raymond turned the knife toward me and angled it so it would catch some light.

  “Probably still has some of his blood on it,” he said. “Want a taste?”

  Adrenaline rushed through my veins and I would’ve gone for his throat if Lenny hadn’t gotten there first, his two hundred plus pounds carrying them both backward, tumbling over a truck hood and onto the dirt. Lenny emitted a horrendous noise, and Raymond slashed at the air with his knife, handicapped by Lenny’s huge body pinning down his arms. Raymond was just as likely to be crushed as Lenny was to get the sharp end of the knife, and I watched for an opening to step on Raymond’s hand like I had Big Trey’s way back at the pig roast.

  The Serpents stood frozen, except for Kristi, who shrieked at Raymond to kill the bastard, and Stan, who was looking for a chance to bury his blade in Lenny’s back. I was getting ready to launch myself at Stan when a couple of police cars barreled into the parking lot, spilling cops in riot gear. Never had I been so happy to see a gun barrel pointed my way.

  The cops screamed at everybody to stay where they were, which wasn’t hard since Lenny and Raymond were the only ones moving. Raymond’s blade was turning toward the ground when the cops got close enough to put guns to the guys’ heads, and then the knife hung there, ready to be used in a split second of chance.

  “Blades on the ground,” one cop said, his voice shaky. “Everybody else stay still.” Raymond lay face up, and the cop above him stared into his eyes while another had Lenny and Stan under his watch. Raymond hesitated, snarling, but when he saw the officer wasn’t about to back down he mustered up enough brain power to know a knife was no match for a service revolver. With a disgusted grunt he dropped the knife onto the dirt.

  By this time more cops had hustled over, the parking lot filling up just as it had at our HOG picnic, and I breathed much easier. They soon figured out Raymond and Stan were the only ones with weapons, so with two cops to a sleazeball they got them handcuffed and pulled them away from the group.

  A small crowd had come outside the bar to see what was so exciting it needed police, and more cops arrived and asked the on-lookers to please step back. The guy with the spike through his nose caught my eye across the parking lot and nodded. I wondered if he was the one who’d made the call.

  Stan and Raymond were several steps away when Stan stopped abruptly and turned to look at Lenny. Lenny straightened and stared right back at him, some silent communication passing between them that excluded everyone else. I don’t know for sure what it was about, but I have to assume it concerned the pathetic girl they both thought of as a daughter. Stan eventually leaned toward Lenny, spat on the ground, and let the cops take him away. Raymond gave Lenny a stare, but it was nothing compared to Stan’s venom.

  Lenny made a half-motion toward Kristi, but stopped when she bucked backward into Lorene, Stan’s wife.

  “Kristi—”

  “Save it, old man. Ain’t nothing you can say that will change anything.”

  “But—”

  She shook her head, not looking at him. His eyes went dead, and he slowly sank back down to the bumper, despair present in the sagging of his shoulders. This sad spectacle of a huge man with tears running down his face should’ve softened the heart of even the hardest female, but Kristi looked at him with something approaching revulsion, and her lip turned up in a sneer.

  “You’re pathetic,” she spat, using the word I had so recently pinned to her.

  He turned his head away.

  “Pathetic and a disgrace to bikers. Go home to your fancy shop and your
faggot partner.”

  “Then—”

  “We’re through. I never want to see or hear about you ever again. As far as I’m concerned, you never even existed.”

  He raised his head to gaze at her, like he was drinking her in, never wanting to forget her. I could see in his eyes that no matter what had happened during the past week, no matter how vengeful or disgusting she was, no matter that she hated him with passion and had almost killed his best friend, he still thought of her as his daughter. Finally, he wiped his face and got to his feet.

  “Good-bye, Kristi,” he said gently.

  She spun on her heel and walked away.

  ***

  Several minutes later the crowd had dispersed, headed back inside to their booze and naked women.

  Lenny remained on the truck’s bumper, pale and shaken, not saying a word. I stood beside him, trying to ignore my throbbing ribs. I scanned the people going by to make sure none of the Serpents were coming back to finish what they’d started, and after fifteen minutes of it, I’d had enough.

  “Okay, Len, let’s go.”

  I had to say it twice to get it to register, and he finally swiveled his head toward me.

  “There’s nothing else for us here,” I said. “Come on.”

  Lenny was still in a daze. I nudged him with my knee.

  “Len?”

  Finally, he moved. But it was to look at the ground, not get up.

  “Go on home,” he said. “I might as well stay here, where I belong.”

  “What?”

  “You heard what they said. I basically killed three people by letting The Skull go back to the clubhouse. I abandoned my dau—the girl I thought was my daughter, along with her mother. It’s a good thing I’m not really her father. Dads come from a lot better line than folks like me.”

  “Give me a break, Lenny.”

  He looked at me with big, watery eyes, like a newborn calf. “Just go on. I’m not worth worrying about. Look at me. I’m just what Kristi said—pathetic. Look around you. This is what I am. I’m dirty, smelly, and violent. I fit in here. No one runs at the sight of me, keeping between me and their kids. No one sees me and assumes I’m going to steal their purse. Or their car. I should be around my own kind.”

  Every inch of my being wanted to slug him, but from somewhere deep inside me some strange, foreign thing forced itself to the surface. Maternal instinct suddenly reared its unfamiliar head. I knelt in front of my friend.

  “Lenny, those stupid moms at the ice cream place were afraid of me, too. And of the nose-ring girl who dipped our ice cream. Think about who those women are. They seclude themselves in their new developments with their two point five kids and brush their hair at five-thirty every afternoon to make sure they’re ready for hubby to get home from the office and take over. They wouldn’t know a friendly outsider if it bit them on their liposuctioned asses.”

  He looked over my head and I grabbed his hands.

  “Lenny, I don’t give a damn what ‘society’ says. Think about who you are. You’re a good man. All your neighbors say so. Your customers say so. Bart says so. You don’t produce drugs. You don’t sell porn. Just because you wear black and ride a Harley doesn’t mean you’re an outlaw. Remember what one-percenter means? It means one percent. You’re part of the ninety-nine now. You decided that twenty years ago.”

  I felt like I was talking across miles, even though I sat inches from his face. I reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me for my final plea.

  “Why would a woman like Lucy give a rat’s ass about you if you’re such a slime? Why would she trust you with her daughter?”

  I finally saw a flicker of life in his eyes, and gradually the fog seemed to clear. I let go of his face and he didn’t look away.

  “Does she really care about me?” he asked.

  “Oh, Lenny, you big dummy. Can’t you see she’s nuts about you? And her world—her Mennonite world—that’s where you belong. Violence isn’t your way. You proved that years ago when you walked away from it all.” I smiled at him. “I told Willard the truth the night at your house. You’re nothing but a big teddy bear.”

  He was showing a glimmer of a grin when a couple came barging out the bar’s door. Laughing loudly and hanging onto each other for support, the girl’s boot caught under my butt, sending her sprawling, her bottle of beer spilling all over my back and Lenny’s jeans. The guy went crashing down with her, his beer splashing onto her face and saturating the front of her shirt. After a moment of stunned silence, they looked at each other and started on a new fit of giggles. It didn’t take more than five seconds before they were pulling each other’s clothes off.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Lenny said.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  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.

  Chapter Forty

  “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 a
wkwardly 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.”