Southern Secrets

by Shelley Stringer

  “Chandler, I’ve told you before, quit worrying about money. This is an investment. The yard has been neglected for years, and it needs attention. Besides, we’ll get so much enjoyment out of it. I want a beautiful yard for our girls to play in.” His eyes lit up as he flashed his dimple. “Let me do this. It’s for all of us to enjoy…you, me, Everett, the SEALS, Constance…our family has grown, and I want our house to remain the place to be for everyone,” he finished.

  Constance came bounding down the back steps, followed closely by Ty and Mr. Philippe.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that one, especially with the constant threat of Orcos…”

  “Let’s don’t spoil today with talk about Orcos. This is a great day!” Banton exclaimed as he handed Ty a shovel.

  “Um, hinting I need to earn my keep?” Ty grinned. Banton motioned with his head over toward the beds where workmen were beginning to place plants.

  “Okay, Constance…you up for this?” Ty turned back to us.

  “Um, Noooo, not happening. I’m quality control. I’ll just sit back and give orders,” she commented off-handedly, pulling her jacket off, and settling down on the lawn chairs to catch some sun on her arms and shoulders.

  Banton grinned at me, apparently comparing her comment to his observation about women earlier. As Constance and I visited, the yard began to take shape. By lunchtime, it looked as though one of those TV work crews had invaded my space, and transformed it into a backyard get-away. We encouraged the guys to stop for lunch, and Constance and I fixed a large tray of sandwiches, meats, cheeses, and dips for the crew. Banton threw a couple of blankets down on the freshly installed shade-grass under the tall trees, and we had our first backyard picnic.

  “Bebe, I didn’t think I could be more pleased with your little abode here, but I was wrong. I think this is my new favorite place to be!” Everett waived a glass of wine around, taking in all of the changes which had occurred in the five short hours since we’d started.

  “So, where’s the pool going?” Constance asked. She downed her second wine cooler.

  “Diva Doll, I kind of had you pegged for a floater, drinker type,” John quipped as he finished off his sandwich.

  “Of course, Cowboy. We can’t all do manual labor. Some of us just have to sit around and look pretty,” she wrinkled her nose at him. It was the first time they’d taken jabs at each other since John had lost Brie.

  “I’m thinking over closer to the side yard. I want to put a safety fence around it, until the babies are older, but I haven’t had the chance to talk to Chandler about it,” he raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Are you serious? I thought the pool was kind of a ‘far in the future’ idea,” I commented.

  “Nope, I have a pool contractor coming out to give us some ideas next month, if it’s all right with you.” He drained his beer, and then gathered his trash up to put it in the bin.

  “Perfect! We can be swimming by the end of the summer,” Constance gushed.

  I held my hand up.

  “Wait, this is all going so fast,” I objected.

  “Fast is kind of the entire theme of your little life together, is it not, Ma Cherie?” Everett patted me on the leg and then rose, holding his hands out to help me up.

  “Yep. I can see ol’ Diva Doll now, floating in her little glitter bikini, soaking up rays and giving orders. She’s probably got plans already for five or six designer swimsuits to wow us with!” John teased her as he headed back to the greenhouse with his work belt in tow.

  “Okay, that’s it. I’m not just a spoiled-rotten little daddy’s girl. Here, give me those tools. I can plant flowers too, you know.” She stood and marched over to one of the freshly mulched beds where trays of flowers were waiting to be planted.

  It seemed planting flowers was the only work Banton would allow me to do, so I busied myself with planting a border of beautiful annuals around the edges of the freshly planted lawn. After about an hour I sat back, Indian-style, to survey our progress. I couldn’t believe my eyes…My yard had been transformed into something out of Southern Living in the span of about eight hours.

  “Um, Mrs. Chandler, you might want to rescue those poor flowers from Miss Constance over there,” a young boy who worked for the nursery commented as he pointed over to where she was mutilating several bedding plants in an attempt to get them to stay in the shallow holes she’d dug with her spade. Everett chuckled, and quickly guided her back over to where I sat, with the ruse she needed to get me back into the house before I worked myself into an early onset of labor.

  As sunset approached, the work-crew began to gather their tools and call it a day. The hot-tub crew finished their installation, and after filling it for the first time, left right after the nursery crew.

  At Everett’s insistence, I took a long, leisurely soak in my tub upstairs. After I’d dressed, Constance appeared at our bedroom doorway.

  “Everett was about to go down and check out John’s progress on his house. He wanted to invite him to supper,” she commented, watching me dry my hair.

  I flipped my hair back over my head, and brushed it out, fastening it with a clip over my shoulder.

  “Sure, I’d love to,” I answered. I grabbed a light jacket, and followed her downstairs.

  “And where are you two off to?” Banton asked us as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Down to John’s. We’re going to check out his progress on his house and invite him to eat with us,” I answered.

  He pulled me in for a kiss.

  I loved the way after all this time, he still held me behind my neck when he drew me in for a kiss. It made it seem so much more intimate somehow. He backed away slowly and flashed his dimple. “Don’t be too long. I ordered take-out, and it will be here any minute.”

  “Kay, be back in a jiff,” Constance called over her shoulder, pulling me down the hallway and out the front door. Everett was waiting for us on the front porch and fell in behind us.

  “What’s your big hurry, Darlin’? You seem to be a woman on a mission!” I exclaimed as she continued to drag me down the sidewalk.

  “Well, I’m just anxious to see what John’s been up to. He seems excited about his house, and I’m glad he’s keeping busy. I’ve been worrying about him spending so much time alone. Maybe this remodel has been therapeutic for him.”

  Everett stopped on the sidewalk midway between our house and John’s to visit with Stephan as we climbed the stairs to the wrap-around porch. Constance was the first to the door, and as she raised her hand to knock, she froze.

  “Oh, God…” she muttered.

  I craned my neck to see around her, and discovered what made her pause. John sat in the floor, his shoulders slumped in defeat and sobbing into his hands. I’d never heard a man grieve so passionately, it tore my heart into. John’s sobs were a raw convulsion, gasping for air in-between. As we watched, intruding on his private moment, he pulled his arms up over his head and lay down curled in a ball.

  I quickly glanced around the room to see what had triggered this onset of emotion, and then I spotted it. Perched on the mantel sat a large canvass portrait of Brie. The beautiful green dress from the Masque Ball draped down her slender frame as she glanced down at her feet. John stood behind her, his hand resting intimately on her bare shoulder as he glanced down at it, seeming to be in mid-decision whether to place a kiss on her delicate skin.

  The picture had obviously been taken the day we held the photo-shoot on my front porch, and John and Banton had both ordered portraits when Mr. Philippe had shown us the prints.

  Constance turned and gently guided me back down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. We walked silently back toward my house.

  Everett broke off his conversation with Stephan when he noticed our return.

  “Sweet girls, what in the name of Dixie is wrong?” he asked, alarm in his voice. “Where is John? I thought you went to get him.”

  “We did, but I don’t think he’s in the mood
for company right now,” Constance answered. Everett reached out to wipe a tear from her face.

  “Uh hum,” I cleared my throat, wiping the tears from my own cheeks. “Would you go on ahead, I need to talk to Everett,” I murmured. She glanced at me questioningly.

  “What, are you going to talk to John anyway?” she asked.

  “No, I just want to talk to Everett for a few minutes. We’ll be in soon…” I trailed off.

  Waiting until she was out of earshot, I turned to Everett.

  “That’s it! I have to know, how close are we to telling John about Gabriella?” I demanded. The irritation in my voice must have been apparent.

  “Whoa, Bebe, slow down. We aren’t anywhere near that conversation. We have miles to go with her rehabilitation before we can even consider telling John,” he replied.

  I was so angry for John, so moved by the gut-wrenching display I’d just witnessed, my emotions took over.

  “Everett, you can’t just let him continue to grieve this way. The way we just found him…he’s lost everything. He’s hurting, and he is my best friend, next to you and Constance. He’s Banton’s best friend! He’s devastated, and I’m worried about him, about what he might do. We have to tell him!” The tears were falling down my cheeks in a torrent of liquid anger. “Can’t you imagine how he will hate us, when he finds out we’ve been keeping her transformation a secret!” I flung my arm out accusingly at him.

  “Please, calm down,” he asked calmly, placing his hands on my upper arms. “We’ve been over this, and we absolutely cannot tell him now. Brie isn’t ready yet. She isn’t emotionally stable enough to handle a meeting with him, and you know he will demand to see her if we tell him.” He reached to push a strand of hair back behind my ear, and I jerked away angrily.

  “I don’t like this! I feel so guilty that I could give him some hope, could stop his grief, and we are purposefully withholding the truth. I can’t stand it, and I can’t stand keeping it from Banton! I promised him there would be no secrets between us, and I’m already breaking that promise,” I sobbed as I continued to plead with him.

  “You can’t tell Banton. He will tell John. You promised me…”

  “Chandler…Everett, is everything all right? What’s going on?” Banton’s voice behind Everett abruptly ended our argument.

  Startled at his arrival, I couldn’t answer him. I was too angry to recover enough to try to put up the “everything’s fine” front. I pushed past Banton and ran down the sidewalk back to our house.

  “Chandler!” I heard Banton call out as he followed me down the sidewalk. “Chandler, wait…”

  I ran into the house, the screen door slamming behind me. I took to the stairs in a dead run, not stopping until I was in our bedroom. Flinging myself into the chair beside the window seat, I drew my knees up and stared out the window. I had no idea what I was going to tell Banton, but I had about five seconds to decide, for I heard his footsteps on the stairs.

  The door opened quietly, and then closed. Several seconds passed, and then I felt his hand on my cheek, wiping the tears away. I turned slowly and looked up into his face.

  “Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s wrong?” he asked gently as he knelt down beside me.

  “John…he’s grieving so hard. We found him just now…”

  “I know. Constance told us, when she came in the house. When you didn’t follow right away, I looked out the window and saw you and Everett arguing,” he offered. He leaned forward. “I’ve never seen you argue with Ev. I’ve never even seen you angry.”

  “I know. I love Ev, but this…I…,” I couldn’t finish.

  “Does this have anything to do with the other night? About this secret you can’t tell me about?” he asked.

  “Yes, but I…I can’t…”

  “Chandler, I don’t know what this is between you and Everett and the Aldon, but I can’t stand to see you this upset. I’ll admit I’ve been jealous, about this secret you and Everett share, something I wasn’t a part of. I know it’s childish, and that isn’t the kind of man I want to be, but I can’t help myself. I can’t stand there is anything important in your life you would keep from me!” he finished firmly.

  “Oh Banton, it’s not like that!” I sobbed. He rose and pulled me up into his arms.

  “Talk to me, Baby,” he said firmly, tilting my head up with the tip of his finger.

  “I just can’t. Not yet,” I replied as I raised my eyes to look into his.

  “You’re going to tell me about this sooner or later, or I’m going to talk to Everett myself. I don’t like what this is doing to you.”

  I took a deep breath, hoping he wouldn’t push the issue. “I’m all right, it was just seeing John so destroyed. He hasn’t shown his grief in front of us.” I pulled him in closer.

  Banton kissed me on the top of the head, and his lips lingered there, his breath blowing in my hair “I know, Baby. But he has in front of me,” he breathed out. His voice quivered. My heart skipped a couple of beats…I’d only seen him tear up, once or twice when I’d been attacked, and over the pregnancy.

  “He won’t talk about her. He won’t talk about anything. He only talks about work or remodeling. He has shut down. I’m worried about him.” His voice was shaking as he spoke, and his tone was so disturbed it touched something inside me.

  I pulled back to look up into his eyes. “I know. I’m worried about him too. His silence and obsession with his projects – they’re defense mechanisms, when you lose someone close to you. I was that way about my parents. I couldn’t talk about them for months. It’s the reason I left Texas.”

  “I forget sometimes how much you’ve been through.” He gazed down at me, leaning down to kiss me gently. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and then held his hand out to me.

  “Come on, everyone is eating downstairs,” he urged.

  “You go ahead, I’m tired. It’s been a long day, I think I’ll just go to bed early,” I sighed.

  “Are you sure? Do you want me to stay up here with you?” he asked as he stroked my cheek. “Can I bring something up to you?”

  I knew he worried when I didn’t eat.

  “Maybe later, I just want to lie down right now.”

  He paused for several moments. “All right, I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”

  After he’d gone downstairs, I settled in for the night. As I lay in the dark, I realized what restraint it must have taken for him not to press the issue of the argument he’d witnessed between me and Ev. At that moment I grasped how much he trusted me, and it made me love him so much more. But it also made me feel tremendously guilty about lying to him.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  I lay in bed the next morning, reluctant to rise after Banton left for his morning workout. It was good school was out for spring break with everything going on. School had definitely taken a back seat to the drama in my life now. I would be lucky to even pass this semester, I mused as I pulled the covers back over my head.

  “Come on, get up, Miss Thing! You and I need to have a little talk this morning. I can’t stand to think you went to bed mad at me last night!” Everett’s voice intruded into my solitude under the covers.

  “Still angry. Go away,” my muffled voice answered him.

  I felt the side of the bed give way under his weight when he sat down. “Bebe, please, you have to understand…we have to stay the course. We can’t weaken now, we’ve come so far. Brie is at a critical point, and I don’t want to hinder her progress,” Everett reasoned. I flung the covers back to glare at him.

  “So where does that leave us? How much longer do we have to let poor John suffer, let him grieve unnecessarily?” I asked, searching his eyes.

  “I don’t know. Go with me this morning, before the boys come back. Assess for yourself where you think she is. Then we will talk again.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll go with you,” I retorted as he rose and gathered some clothes out of my closet and flung them at me. />
  Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed and off to the safe house with Mr. Philippe and Everett. I was still a little miffed at Everett, so the three of us rode along in silence, Everett and Mr. Philippe exchanging knowing glances now and again, seeming to carry on some sort of Aldon secret communication. Once we’d reached the safe house, Everett turned into the long circle driveway and parked.

  “Bebe, we are going to take you in to see her just as we did last time. We want you to sit down and have a visit, and we’ll see how she responds to you. Let’s just take the interaction cautiously. I want you to get her to talk about John.”

  “Fine,” I answered curtly.

  I followed them into the house, through the familiar hallway and down into the basement. Everett called out as usual, “Brie, honey, we’re here with Chandler. Are you all right to see her?” He paused, and turned to look at me.

  “Yes, please, come in.”

  As we entered, I sensed something different. I watched Brie sit down at the table, and it dawned on me. She was controlling her eyes. I was so excited I almost forgot and ran to her. Catching myself, I walked slowly to the table.

  “May I sit down?” I asked her timidly.

  “Yes, please. Chandler, it’s so good to see you.”

  I slid into the chair opposite her as I exclaimed, “You too! Brie, you look so much better than the last time I saw you…and your eyes! You’ve learned to control the glow!”

  She smiled timidly at me. “It’s difficult but it’s getting easier. And my fangs, that’s easier, too. I’ve learned to anticipate anger or intense emotion and hold them back. I’m just worried…” her voice trailed off.

  “What? Brie, talk to me. That’s what I’m here for,” I urged.

  She paused, searching for the right words.

  “I’m worried I might not be able to control my reflexes in response to every emotion,” she finally stated.

  “You seem to be doing so well. I’m sure it will all come with time. Is it difficult, I mean, sitting here with me? Does my…my scent bother you?”