The Art of Keeping Secrets

by Rachael Johns

  When Zoe had moved out the year before, Flick insisted she and Beau return at least once a week for a family meal. They’d tried Sunday lunch to begin with but that had been too hard, what with Zoe and Beau going out late most Saturday nights and Toby having rowing practice at the crack of dawn every Sunday morning. Thursday was the only evening when none of them had a regular commitment. So Thursday nights were sacred, like Friday-night ‘book club’ with her friends.

  To everyone else sitting around the table munching on homemade pasties this was just another normal family dinner but tonight Flick felt as if her world was closing in around her. First Seb’s casual comment about telling Zoe and Toby his secret and then … then the letter, which had been burning a hole in her pocket since Monday afternoon. She’d looked at it so many times, hoping she’d been wrong, that it now looked a few decades old. Unable to think about anything but the letter, she was finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation.

  ‘That was delicious, Mrs Bell,’ Beau said, leaning back in his seat and stretching an arm around Zoe’s shoulder.

  ‘Thank you.’ Flick smiled at her future son-in-law. He was tall and muscular; she could see what attracted Zoe. She couldn’t imagine him ever flitting around the marital bedroom in a frock. Then again, when she’d first met Seb, it was the last thing she’d expected of him as well.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s time you started calling her Flick, like everybody else?’ Seb suggested. ‘Or even Mum. Flick started calling my parents Mum and Dad not long after we met.’

  Beau’s cheeks flushed red, highlighting the dimple that Zoe was always waxing lyrical about.

  ‘It’s all right, Beau,’ Flick said, not even glancing at her husband. ‘You call me whatever you’re comfortable with.’ While she’d love Beau to call her Mum—she already thought of him as a second son—something irked her that Seb had been the one to suggest the idea. When had he taken it upon himself to make all their decisions without consulting her? Well, two could play at that game.

  ‘Hey Mum,’ Zoe said, looking from Flick to her father and back again as if she detected something uncomfortable in the air. ‘I heard from the bridal shop. My dress has come in earlier than they thought and they can do a fitting next Friday. You’ll come with me right?’

  Flick hesitated a moment; she’d been waiting for the right time to tell everyone. ‘Actually, sorry Zo, but I can’t. I’m going to be on my way to New York that day. Maybe your father will be able to go.’ She wanted to look at Seb and smile as she landed this announcement but found she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

  Everyone was quiet a few seconds and then, ‘New York?’ Zoe exclaimed. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Are you going with Will’s mum?’ Toby asked.

  ‘I hope you get to watch a baseball game.’ This from Beau.

  ‘Yes, with Neve,’ Flick said and then she looked to Beau. ‘I doubt we’ll have time to fit in anything like that.’ Considering she didn’t even like watching Aussie sports, a baseball game wasn’t high on her list of priorities. Besides, this trip was more about getting away for a while than seeing the sights.

  ‘They’ll be too busy shopping,’ Zoe scoffed, bouncing in her seat as if she were the one going away. ‘I’d give anything to come with you.’

  Seb sat silently across the table, while the others expressed their excitement and Toby put in orders for things he needed her to bring back.

  ‘I wish you could bring home a pizza. I’ve heard they’re better in New York than in Italy.’

  Zoe glared at her little brother. ‘How’s she going to bring you a pizza, boofhead? Even if they did let her bring it through customs, it’d be cold and gross by the time she gave it to you.’

  ‘Duh. I know that.’ Toby shrugged, his sister’s name-calling like water off a duck’s back. He’d probably be shocked if she called him by his actual name. ‘Can you get me a pair of Nikes? I hear they’re like totally cheap in New York. And I’d love a Yankees snapback.’

  ‘A Yankees what?’ Flick had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘It’s a type of baseball cap,’ Beau explained. ‘Everyone’s wearing them these days.’

  ‘Right.’ She nodded and braved a look at Seb, who raised an eyebrow at her.

  ‘What about you, honey?’ she asked, smiling sweetly. ‘Any requests?’

  Seb shook his head and stood. She’d possibly taken things a little too far.

  ‘Can you get me some earrings from Tiffany’s?’ Zoe touched her fingers to her ears as Seb left the dining room and headed into the kitchen. ‘They can be my “something new” on the wedding day.’

  ‘I think your dress is something new.’ Flick stood and picked up the near-empty baking dishes. ‘Why don’t you guys make a list and I’ll see what I can do,’ she promised. Normally she’d insist the kids do the washing up, but she could hear Seb already running the water. He cleaned whenever he was grumpy, angry or upset—tonight he might be all three. She took a deep breath and went to face the music.

  ‘New York, hey?’ Seb said as she came up beside him and put the dishes on the bench.

  ‘Yep. I’ve always wanted to go.’

  He yanked his hands out of the soapy water, dried them on his jumper and turned to look at her. ‘And it’s a done deal? You’ve booked your tickets?’

  Flick nodded, keeping her chin high as she looked him right in the eye. She’d wanted to shock him like he’d shocked her, to show him how it felt to have your spouse keep you in the dark.

  ‘An overseas trip is going to cost us a bit,’ he said, his tone dry. ‘Don’t you think it might have been a good idea to tell me before you made the decision?’

  She half-laughed at the irony of this. ‘What? Like you tell me everything, Sebastian?’

  Never in their twenty-two years together had she gone behind his back to do anything, but she’d felt no remorse as she’d handed over her credit card to Patrick Donoghue the other day. Therapeutic had been the word. But the satisfaction of spending such a large portion of their life savings had only lasted a short while, and although part of her couldn’t wait to go to New York, she’d give it up in an instant if she could turn back time. If she could go back to the way things had been before The Letter. If only…

  Seb’s brow furrowed in confusion and before he could ask her what the hell she meant, she pulled the crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket and thrust it at him. ‘This came for you the other day.’

  He took the letter and as he glanced down, all colour drained from his face. She wondered if he’d have a go at her for opening his mail but when he finally looked up, she saw no fight in his eyes.

  ‘Shall we take this into the bedroom?’

  Flick nodded—she had no idea what would occur as a result of this conversation but it was not one she wanted her offspring and soon-to-be son-in-law privy to. Leaving the dishes, they trekked down the hallway, past the moose head hanging on the wall, not a word spoken between them. All Flick could hear was the pounding of her own heart, which felt like it had relocated to between her ears.

  Was this it? The end of her relationship? The evening’s dinner churned in her stomach.

  She walked into the bedroom first and Seb closed the door behind them. What had always been like a sanctuary to her now felt confined and almost claustrophobic. The man she thought she knew better than anyone else stood before her like a stranger. Had she ever really known him at all?

  ‘Do you want to sit down?’ he asked as he gestured to their bed.

  Without replying, she walked the few steps and perched herself on the edge. It didn’t feel right to sprawl back on the pillows as she often did at night while they talked about their days.

  This wasn’t going to be one of those conversations.

  Seb leaned back against the dresser and let out a loud puff of breath. Although leaning back, his posture was rigid. Silence filled the small space between them; it appeared neither of them quite knew how to start.

  Flick
’s jaw clenched and she wished he’d just say something. But she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. The recollection of opening that envelope—the shock that had filled her so completely—had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She’d felt so stupid.

  Finally, he cleared his throat and held up the letter. ‘So this is why you’ve been a little cold the last few days.’

  Cold? She’d been cold? Heat whooshed into her body at this accusation. She’d wanted to discuss this calmly like two adults, which is why she’d put it off for so long, but now her heart had other ideas. Clenching her fists, so as not to grab the nearest thing and hurl it at him, she said, ‘This isn’t about me, Sebastian. Don’t try and make it about me. I want to know about that letter.’

  Seb nodded, his shoulders slumping as he let out another sigh. ‘I … It’s just …’ He stuttered before he finally managed a sentence. ‘All I wanted to do was get a little information. See how much it costs, what the process is, how long it takes.’

  With each word he spoke, she felt the gap between them growing wider and her heart rate picking up speed. When she spoke, her chest heaved. ‘Forgive me if I’m wrong, but that there is confirmation of an appointment with a gender reassignment clinic.’

  He nodded, but didn’t meet her gaze. ‘Yes, but only to discuss things. To talk about my options.’

  ‘Things?’ The word left a bad taste in her mouth. ‘And your options? What about my options? What happens after that? What if you decide this is something you want to do?’

  When he didn’t answer, she spat another question. ‘And when exactly were you planning on telling me, Seb?’

  He had the audacity to shrug, as if they were talking about something normal, something mundane. When were you planning on telling me you broke my favourite vase? The conversation felt surreal, almost as if she were watching it from outside her own body. She was saying the words, but she couldn’t believe them.

  ‘I didn’t want to tell you until I was absolutely certain this was something I wanted to do. I didn’t want to cause you undue stress.’ He looked close to tears but she wasn’t feeling very charitable.

  ‘How very thoughtful of you!’

  He ignored her sarcasm, wiped his eyes with his index finger, and continued. ‘Telling you I wanted to tell Zoe and Toby about the cross-dressing was me testing the waters.’

  She swallowed the bile that rose in the back of her throat. At the time that had seemed like an outrageous idea—she couldn’t understand why he would even think of doing something that could destroy his relationship with his kids—but telling them their dad sometimes liked to wear women’s clothes was nothing compared to this.

  This was a whole other level. Was she stupid never to have contemplated the possibility?

  Flick opened her mouth, but struggled to ask the big question in all of this. ‘Have you … How long … Have you always thought it might come to this?’

  Seb’s expression was pained and he couldn’t meet her gaze. ‘It’s never been far from my mind, but I guess times are changing in the world, and it suddenly feels like what was once impossible, might actually not be.’

  ‘You lied to me.’ There was so much hurt inside her right now, she didn’t know what was worse—the lies or the truth.

  ‘It’s more complicated than that, Felicity.’

  He never called her Felicity. Her stomach churned and it was all she could do to remain upright.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He took a step towards her but she held up her hand.

  ‘Don’t.’

  He stopped, as if she were a dangerous creature and he realised the need to back off. ‘I never wanted to hurt you.’

  Yet he had. A tear slipped down her cheek. He had hurt her more than anyone ever had before, more than she ever thought it was possible to be hurt.

  ‘Why don’t you come to the appointment with me?’ Seb suggested. ‘We can talk to the counsellors together. Learn more about the actual process.’

  She shook her head, unable to bear the thought of going into such a place. Did he think that talking about this would help her understand? That in turn she would accept it?

  ‘What happens to us if you go ahead with this?’ she asked, the words blurting out of her mouth before she could think them through.

  ‘I guess that would be up to you,’ Seb said, taking another tentative step towards her.

  ‘You guess?’

  ‘It’s me I want to change, not you. I’d like to think we could go through this together and come out the other side.’

  Flick couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Are you insane? Did you really think I’d just have a little panic attack and then move on? This is huge.’

  A vision of them walking down the street came into her head, both of them in women’s clothes, holding hands as they went to meet their kids for lunch or something. What if they had grandchildren? Would Seb want to be the granny as well? She grimaced at the thought. And what about Mothers’ Day? Would she have to share that with him also? Then there were the other mothers at Dayton—she could just imagine what they’d make of this.

  Who needed daytime television when her life was turning into a soap opera right before her eyes?

  ‘I know it is.’ Seb reached out and took her hand; she didn’t have the mental energy to snatch it away. ‘But I don’t want to lose you.’

  She looked into his gorgeous grey eyes. ‘This isn’t a shock to you, but I can’t even begin to describe what it is to me. It feels like the worst kind of betrayal. I think I’d prefer if you told me you were gay or had an affair behind my back. I’m not a lesbian, Seb. I didn’t sign on to have a wife.’

  Flick liked him because he had a penis—well, among other things, but the penis was definitely important. She didn’t even realise she was crying until a drop of salt water trickled over her lips and her tongue darted out to catch it.

  ‘I know this isn’t fair to you,’ he whispered again, looking as sad and confused as she felt, ‘but I’m tired of living a lie. I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. I’ve never felt right inside this body of mine.’

  ‘But you’ve never said.’ That was the kicker.

  She blamed Caitlyn Jenner for this—until she exploded onto the pages of Vanity Fair as a woman, telling the world about her transition from living as a man, this wasn’t the kind of thing normal people contemplated. Caitlyn given so many mere mortals the courage to do something they’d never have felt able to do before.

  While such a thing had only been something she’d read about in magazines or watched on the TV, she’d always been politically correct in her thinking—or so she thought. Happy for these people she didn’t know. She hated the idea that some individuals were so desperately unhappy about gender issues that they committed suicide, and she’d always supported a person’s right to be whoever they wanted to be.

  But that was before it got so incredibly close to home.

  Now she didn’t know what she thought. About anything.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Seb said, squeezing her hand.

  Flick glanced down at their adjoined hands as if hers wasn’t actually a part of her. She didn’t know her husband anymore and that meant she didn’t even know herself.

  ‘I was scared,’ he continued. ‘I love you so much, Flick—always have, always will—and I was scared that if I ever told you, it would be over. But I’m not sure I can continue living a lie.’

  Love her? How could he truly love her and do this?

  ‘Do you hate me?’

  She took her time answering as she slowly pulled her hand from his grasp. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body, her initial rage cooling as reality washed over her. This wasn’t some kind of practical joke—Seb was serious. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t hate him, but right now, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to look at him. Part of her wanted him to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but the other half—equally as strong—wanted to push him away.

  To pu
nish him in the way it felt like he was punishing her.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘This is too new. I need time. I don’t know what I think or how I feel. About you, about me, about any of this. That’s why I decided to go to New York. I need some time away.’

  She had so many questions: What did he see as her role in this? Did he expect her to give up her heterosexual identity? How long had he been contemplating this? Would he go ahead even if she didn’t want him to? But she couldn’t bring herself to ask any of them. Not just yet.

  He nodded. ‘I understand. Are you going to tell Emma and Neve?’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘Do you want me to?’

  ‘I’m not ashamed of who I am and if you need to talk to your closest friends about this then I understand; my only worry is that they might mention it to Caleb or Will. I wouldn’t want Toby or Zoe finding out about this second hand.’

  ‘I agree.’ At least he was still thinking of their children. Maybe if he thought some more, he’d realise this was all a big mistake. That them finding out at all would be a disaster and the only way to prevent that was to give up this ridiculous idea. If only there was some switch she could press to turn back time.

  The question is how far would she turn it? Knowing what she did now, would she even have married him at all?

  ‘When do you leave?’ Seb asked.

  For a moment she thought he was asking her when she was leaving the marriage, then she remembered New York. ‘A week today.’

  And right now, those seven days couldn’t go fast enough.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Emma

  The day she’d dreaded had finally arrived and Emma could barely bring herself to drag her body out of bed. The moment she opened her eyes, she squeezed them shut again, wishing the light seeping through the curtains would go away and leave her the hell alone.

  ‘Mum!’ Laura hollered down the hallway from the direction of the bathroom. ‘Have you seen our hair straightener?’