Secretly More

by Lux Zakari

  Kimber harbored no ill will toward Dane, however. She didn’t feel that he was a bad person, just one who made horrible decisions, and she could certainly emphasize with that. He never maliciously intended to hurt her. He had no master plan to break her heart, no blueprints of how to best her, no satisfaction derived from her misery. They just weren’t compatible. The answer really was that simple.

  She got off the couch and hugged him, her heart in pain as his grip around her tightened and he cried into her uncombed hair. “I’m sorry.” She rubbed soothing circles over his back. “You changed my life, too. And I really do wish you the best.”

  Dane hiccupped for air then pulled away, not looking at her. “I’m gonna go now.” He opened the door and paused, like he had something more to tell her, but all he said was, “Bye.” Then he was gone, and she knew it was for real this time.

  * * *

  Kimber arrived at Ferney’s just as her sister and Paul were in the process of breakfast-misshapen blueberry pancakes served on Star Wars dishes.

  “Paul made them himself.” Ferney, wearing a silky black Victoria’s Secret robe, cut into a pancake doused in syrup using the side of her fork and took a bite, making exaggerated mmm noises.

  “Careful there, my little waif.” Kimber nodded to Ferney’s plate. “You may actually be ingesting calories.”

  “It’s Saturday. I’m allowed to cheat a bit.”

  “Once a week, she pretends she has a tapeworm and inhales everything in the cupboards,” added Paul, who, in addition to eating his pancakes, was alternating taking bites from an apple in one hand and a block of Colby cheese in the other.

  “Paul! Quit telling my secrets and get back to what you do best-obeying my every whim.”

  “Yes, mistress.” The tiniest of wry smiles teased the corners of Paul’s mouth, and Kimber felt wistful hearing the banter. She’d love the intimacy of teasing a boyfriend about quirks learned only through loving someone.

  “Hungry?” Ferney patted Kimber’s back. “Do you want Paul to make you some pancakes?”

  “I’ll just have some coffee.”

  “Paul, be a love and pour Kimmy some caffeine.”

  He put aside his apple and cheese and heeded Ferney’s command, despite also manning the browning pancakes, and passed the coffee to Kimber in a faux-mangled mug reading I Got Smashed in New York City, along with the cream and sugar.

  “Isn’t this fun?” Ferney asked. “It’s like we’re at a diner.”

  “I bet I get stiffed like a diner waiter, too,” Paul said.

  “That will be true if the wait staff doesn’t remain seen and not heard. Now, Kimber.” Ferney wiped her mouth with her napkin and crossed her legs, resting her shoulders against the breakfast nook’s high-backed bench. “Let’s hear about your night with Dane. I want all the details.”

  Kimber summed up the events concerning Dane, lacking emotional investment in her own story. It was like partaking in an obligatory sensible dinner when all she wanted to do was skip to dessert, the whole reason she was there.

  “You really booted him out for good?” Ferney gave a polite golf clap. “Good for you. Finally.”

  “Mmm.” Kimber twirled her spoon in her coffee, chewing her lower lip.

  Ferney sighed. “I shouldn’t be so surprised though. I knew it’d be easy for you to forget Dane the moment you found someone else to make you miserable.”

  That her sister’s words stung so much shocked Kimber, and she folded forward and burst into tears.

  “Oh shit. I’m a terrible sister.” Ferney slid across the bench toward Kimber and smoothed her hair. “This is about Jay, isn’t it?”

  “Everything’s such a mess.” No matter how often Kimber wiped her eyes, tears continued to spill from them of their own accord. “I don’t know what I want to do.”

  “You want to be with him.”

  “No.” However, the idea spoken aloud by someone else sent a rush of inexplicable optimism through her.

  “Yes, you do. You just have too much pride to see past it.”

  “Speaking of pride, how much of mine do I have to swallow to be with him since I heard him fucking the neighbor last night?” Kimber snapped, wiping her eyes and trying to regain her composure. “That’s a pretty clear indicator of him not giving a shit about me, I’d think.”

  “And last night you were with Dane and pining for Jay the whole time, so apparently it’s not such a clear indicator after all.” Ferney crossed her arms and gave Kimber a patient, expectant look. “Just tell Jay what he has to do to make it up to you and get back to having amazing sex already.”

  Kimber dropped her head in her hands and groaned. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Then simplify it.” Paul’s firm tone made Kimber look up with surprise.

  “Paul, please.” Ferney sighed. “The girls are talking here.”

  “Just let yourself feel a certain way without trying to explain them or attaching stipulations on them,” Paul continued as if he hadn’t heard Ferney. “Don’t say, ‘I feel this way but I shouldn’t because of X, Y, and Z.’”

  Ferney shook her head. “Oh, Paul. How many times have I told you that if I wanted your opinion, I’d just beat it out of you?”

  To Kimber’s shock, Paul picked up the skillet he’d been cooking pancakes in and dropped it in the sink, still sizzling, atop a stack of dirty dishes. He turned to his fiancée, Lucifer blazing in his eyes as he yanked off the frilly apron and hurled it on the counter. “Fuck you, Ferney.” Then he stalked from the room.

  A gasp sounded in Kimber’s throat. She’d never seen Paul so angry. She’d never seen Paul convey any emotion, really, except total subservience. “Ferney, is he-”

  Ferney patted her sister’s forearm with a few swift slaps. “I’ll go see what his problem is.” She rose from her chair and followed Paul, and Kimber heard the bedroom door slam and them lapse into an argument.

  Uneasy, she wandered outside on the front porch, out of earshot, and sat on the top step. She watched a little girl push a stroller holding an American Girl doll around in circles in the driveway across the street, and she wished she could meet herself when she was that age. She’d tell seven-year-old Kimber to follow her heart, stay away from trans fats, and not agree to fucking strangers while wearing a blindfold. That was some wise wisdom, she felt.

  The screen door swung open behind her and she turned to see Paul exit the house and give a nod as he sat on one of the patio chairs. “You may not have noticed this,” he said, “but your sister’s one bossy bitch.”

  Kimber gave a weak chuckle, startled at Paul’s choice of words, now anything but deferential. “That’s putting it gently.”

  “Yeah. Sometimes she takes it too far though. Sometimes I think about what life would be like without her in the director’s chair, if you know what I mean.”

  She swallowed hard, the conversation taking a very uncomfortable turn. “I don’t think I should be hearing-”

  “Sometimes I think about being with someone else, someone who never cracked a whip, and sure, that’s fine and all. But then who will do all the things Ferney does that I absolutely love? I know you girls think I’m a total dweeb, always hiding behind a comic book, but truth is I’ve actually dated a lot of girls-a fact your sister gets really jealous about but refuses to admit. And I’ve come to realize that a little loss of autonomy is nothing compared to how Ferney makes me feel on the whole.

  “What I’m trying to get at in my jumbled, roundabout way is that in real life, nothing will ever be exactly as we want it to be. But it can come pretty damn close, and if we don’t recognize that, we’ll always be dissatisfied and miss out on some really amazing experiences.

  “I don’t know all the details and Ferney’s actually good about keeping confidences, but this guy you talk about… It seems like he did a terrible thing that was out of character, out of desperation, and it sounds like you’ll be a lot unhappier without him if you decide it’s right not to forgive him. Like I sa
id in the kitchen, just try feeling whatever it is you feel for him without justifying why. Go with it. See what happens.”

  “Damn, Paul.” Kimber gave a nervous giggle. “You’re like the Silent Bob to Ferney’s Jay. I feel like I’m in Chasing Amy right now.”

  He smiled. “I wish you a more resolved ending then. And I’m sure you’ll get it.”

  “Thanks.” For the first time, she felt like maybe the resolved ending could be a happy one as well. “How’d you get to be so wise?”

  “Blueberry pancakes aren’t my only specialty.”

  Ferney joined them on the porch, still clad in her bathrobe and looking sullen like a spanked child. She stalked across the gritty wooden planks to Paul, and Kimber wondered if her sister was going to ream into him within earshot of the entire block; Ferney had a voice that carried. Instead, Ferney crawled into Paul’s lap like an oversized cat, looking contrite. “I’m sorry.” She wound her arms around his neck. “I was being a bitch.”

  “A little.” Paul squeezed her back. “I forgive you.”

  “Wow.” Kimber rubbed her eyes. “Did I just see what I think I saw-Ferney apologizing?”

  “Yes, and you best forget you ever did.” Ferney’s voice was muffled in Paul’s shirt.

  “Your sister is a very proud, stubborn creature,” Paul said, as if he had to explain.

  “But I’m also fantastic in bed, so Paul can’t stay mad at me for long,” Ferney added, although her tone lacked her usual confidence, and her barb seemed to seek reassurance that everything was still okay.

  Paul looked to Kimber and shrugged as he stroked Ferney’s back. “What can I say but forgive? If you want to continue with someone, that’s just what you have to do.”

  Kimber looked down at her hands. “Even if that person doesn’t deserve it?”

  “Do you really think he doesn’t?” Paul asked. “And who are you really punishing if that’s what you decide?”

  Those two questions clung to Kimber for the rest of the day and long into the night. The sheer possibility of forgiving Jay and being with him despite their unfortunate beginning was like discovering a new window in a room she’d lived in all her life.

  Maybe he did deserve it. Maybe she did, too.

  Chapter Nine

  Kimber crossed Airy Peak’s vast parking lot the following Friday night, weaving between the cars as she made her way to her coupe and planned her weekend. Alison had invited her to see a local band that evening, and she knew it would be good for her to go out and deviate from what had become her usual routine: applying to schools for the fall semester and shopping for “grown-up furniture” with Ferney. These efforts led her to be the proud owner of an actual coffee table and lent her life the illusion of forward momentum, yet they provided little comfort and no true distraction from how lost she actually felt. All her progress during the day meant nothing during her sleepless nights, when she suffered from thoughts of Jay drifting further from her every minute, eventually finding someone new. She went out of her way at work to avoid him, anticipating, fearing, and hating that he likely did the same. Her evasion was an act of self-preservation; she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle hearing about him ever getting involved with someone else. She recalled all the things he’d told her about being in love with her that one night, and her body would stiffen with pain at the idea of someone else ever meaning the same to him like he claimed she had.

  The reminder was enough to make her decide on a quiet night in with the cat and her Netflix subscription while painting her nails mermaid-tail turquoise, but the thought dissolved at the sound of someone calling her name. She turned to see Moquest, huffing and puffing in an effort to close the distance between them. She paused, giving him the opportunity to catch up, although she was quite aware of the role Moquest had played in the mystery-lover situation and was anything but happy to see him.

  His round face rosy with exertion, he stopped next to her, breathing hard with his hands to his chest. “Way to make a fat guy run. If I have a heart attack, I’m blaming you.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She snorted and continued her trek to her car. “I forgot, it’s me who should be apologizing to you.”

  With a burst of energy, Moquest rounded a few cars and stepped in her path. “Don’t crucify me, Kim, you got no case. I sent him up to the room when you were blindfolded that night, but you guys took care of the rest. Yeah, I could’ve told you the truth, and even I think what he did was shitty, but what did you want me to do, rat Navarrete out? He’s my best friend. And we both know Jay’s a good guy. He eventually does the right thing.”

  “‘Eventually’ came a little late this time.” Kimber tried to sidestep him, but he blocked her with surprising agility.

  “Now, now, don’t be a grump. No one faults you or sees you differently or any of that, so let’s let bygones be bygones, all right?”

  “No, thanks.” She edged past him and bee-lined for her coupe.

  He jogged after her. “That hurts, Kim, that hurts real bad. But don’t worry, you can make it up to me. How, you wonder? Why, by attending my party tomorrow night, which celebrates me getting back in the saddle.”

  “I could care less if you’re in or out of any saddle. Hell to the no.” Kimber jammed her key in the car door.

  Moquest sidled up beside the lock, his back against the vehicle and his arms folded. “Look, it’s pointless to pretend you don’t care about Jay. We both know you do. I don’t understand why any of this is happening at all. Why don’t you guys say fuck the past and move forward like you both want to?”

  “Like we both want to?” She whirled on him, her anger blazing through her and heating her skin. “I heard him fucking my next-door neighbor the very day after he finally told me the truth about what a sicko he is. Do you really think that’s something I’m going to forget? Do you really think that’s someone I want to move forward with?”

  To her annoyance, Moquest laughed. “Would it help you to know he didn’t bone her? Rumor has it she was just having some fun while he was blowing chunks in the bathroom, sickened by you screwing your ex.”

  Kimber felt the color drain from her face, startled by this new information. “I didn’t sleep with Dane. He came over but then I heard… And I just-” She growled, flustered with her own ineloquence. “Never mind. The point is, it’s over between Dane and me.”

  He grinned. “I know someone who’ll think that’s good news.”

  She squared her shoulders and looked away, squinting in the sunset. “That’s over, too.”

  Moquest turned with an exasperated groan and pounded on the roof of the car. “That’s such bullshit. Just put away your pride and follow this three-step plan. Ready for it?” He spun around and ticked off the instructions on his fingers. “One, come to my party. Two, kiss and make up with Jay. Three, profit. Trust me, it really is that easy if you want it to be.” Then he gave her a pointed look and sauntered off, whistling.

  Kimber finally sank into the driver’s seat, starting the ignition and blasting the air conditioner with the door open wide to ebb the stifling heat trapped in the interior. She rested her head back, her mind turning over with myriad scenarios, only one of them bringing happiness of any sort. But how could she possibly make that one happen?

  * * *

  “God be praised!” Moquest shouted as he had every other time he sank a striped ball into one of the pockets of the bar’s pool table. “Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot.” He tipped his head back and took a triumphant, commercial-worthy swig from his beer bottle.

  Jay arched a brow as he chalked his pool stick. “Everything’s just coming up Moquest, isn’t it?”

  “It really is. Ever since I gave up ex-strippers in favor of my naughty nurse, I’m a new man.”

  “I don’t mean to split hairs here but as I recall, the ex-stripper gave you up when she caught you getting mouth to mouth from the naughty nurse.”

  “It was mouth to something, all right,” Moquest quipped, circ
ling the table.

  While his friend sought the perfect angle for the most viable shot, Jay sipped his lager draft and looked around the oddly named Targo Beach Club, a tiki bar that defied the geographical logistics of Pennsylvania’s beach-less condition in favor of inflatable palm trees and throbbing Top 40 remixes. He noted three blondes, all full of their blondness, splitting one of the bar’s twenty-dollar island-themed drinks served in paint-can-sized plastic coconuts, a multitude of straws protruding from it, kraken-style. Moquest had picked the locale, which was where he met many of the characters that put in appearances at his parties.

  Jay hadn’t minded; he’d been in the mood for a bar, and the Targo Beach Club was the perfect place to remind him why he wasn’t in the mood to go to a bar more often. Still, it beat sleeping for at least ten hours a day, which had become the norm. Between shifts at the casino and waiting for his summer classes to start, he often indulged in excessively long naps, having lost his interest in reading and feeling resentful of everyone’s happiness on TV. Even the sappy tweens on the Disney channel had relationships that made him feel lonely.

  Each of his dreams was weirder than the previous one. When Moquest roused him from his slumber an hour earlier, Jay had been in the midst of one about the duke from the Wizard of Id trying to defeat the leader of a foreign country with elaborate weapons and schemes, but the leader had already invented the same product or plan, only faster, better, and stronger. Jay had awakened, feeling as though the dream’s plot was revolutionary, but now that he thought about it, it was too Spy vs. Spy, very unoriginal indeed. Still, he enjoyed waking up, feeling like a genius. In his sleep was the only time he felt smart anymore, the only time he wasn’t out actively hurting the people he most cared about.