For Money or Mayhem

{24} Secrets in the Dark

By a quarter till five I was wrung out. My software chimed and I looked to see that it found more than 4,000 correlations. I groaned. I was too tired to face it now. I saved the results, shut down the computer, and lay down in my bed. I was asleep instantly.

And just as quickly awakened.

I glanced at my phone and saw that it was seven. It hadn’t felt like I’d been asleep for a minute. Then I realized there was a light knocking on my door. I groaned, but got up and went to answer it.

“I, uh… well… um… I missed you,” Andi said as soon as I opened the door. Oh yes! I wrapped her in my arms and planted a kiss on her that told her how much I’d missed her as well. Noting that we were still in the doorway, I pulled her into the apartment with my lips still locked to hers. When the door shut behind us and she heard it click she pulled away from me and looked into my eyes, then, as if just becoming aware of her surroundings, she stared around her. “It’s black!”

Andi had never seen the inside of my apartment. Well, very few people had. Even when I had girlfriends, I never brought them here. I didn’t mind sharing it with Andi, though. My apartment is always clean. That’s not a problem. I only have 350 square feet and if I didn’t keep up with cleaning, before long I wouldn’t be able to move. It’s not like I have a lot of stuff to clutter the place up. I just never started buying stuff after I moved in here. I tried to imagine what it looked like through Andi’s eyes.

“They let you do this? The apartment management, I mean?”

“I had to pay an extra month’s damage deposit and promise to restore it to pristine white before I leave,” I said. “Eric helped me choose the materials.”

She moved around the little room, touching my desk, my bed, my chair. Each time she reached out her hand, I felt like she was exploring another part of my body. It wasn’t like everything was black. The kitchen, closet, and bathroom were still white. But I had heavy black drapes hung over the closet door, the kitchen archway, and both windows. With the bathroom door closed, you couldn’t see the white room. A shower curtain that Eric picked out for me had demure nudes in black against the white curtain. The drapes across the kitchen and closet doorways kept any light leaks from those rooms and the drapes over the two windows were floor to ceiling, so no ambient light leaked in from the street lights below.

“Do you mind that I came over?”

“Not at all. I was napping, but I’m suddenly wide awake. I kind of like showing you my room.”

“Would you like to see me naked in it?” she asked. I almost swallowed my tongue, but it was hers that was suddenly in my mouth. Our lovemaking was more relaxed than it had been the night before. We laughed more as we explored each other’s bodies. She traced a scar on my back I got when I fell into a dumpster as a kid. I simply marveled at her pristine, beautiful body as I took each piece of clothing from it. We were joyful and playful in our lovemaking and I wanted to please her in every way possible.

Nearly two hours later, we hugged each other in my bed, our sweaty bodies practically glued to each other. I was spooned behind her, still teasingly nibbling on her ear and whispering to her about how happy I was.

“Is it completely dark when you turn out the lights?” she asked. I’d left two lamps on low while we made love—each of us wanting to see the other.

“It can be.”

“Show me.” I flicked off the power strip under my desk and my equipment, stereo, and desk lamp all went out. I made sure the bathroom door was closed and all the drapes were sealed before I flicked out the lamp over the painting on my wall. I slipped back into the bed from the end and crawled up her body until we were spooned together once again. Then I pulled a black sheet up over us. Not only did the room get dark, but with all my electronics turned off, it was silent as well.

Even after our eyes had time to adjust to the darkness, we really couldn’t see anything. I could hear our breathing, synchronizing together so that we inhaled and exhaled at the same time.

“I can hear your heart,” she said softly. “It’s like being in a womb.”

“I was in a womb not long ago,” I laughed softly.

“Mmm. Just the foyer. Now we’re both tucked inside and we can’t see a thing. We can only feel each other’s presence and hear each other’s heartbeat for company.”

“Yes, but I smell the fresh citrus scent of your hair,” I whispered. “I feel your soft silky skin beneath my fingers.”

“I feel you poking me in the butt,” she giggled. She rolled in my embrace and after bumping foreheads and smashing our noses together we managed to find each other’s mouth. I would never tire of kissing her. It erased everything else from my mind. She snuggled close to my chest and spoke so softly that even in the darkened room I almost missed what she said.

“Do you have any secrets, Dag?”

“Yes. I have things I don’t talk about. I deal with confidential information that I don’t share with anyone.”

“No. I mean things about you that you can’t tell anyone. Not someone else’s secret you won’t divulge.”

“Maybe. I’m not always as upstanding as I like to believe I should be. Sometimes, I do things that I think better of after the fact, but have no way to correct. I sometimes tell clients what I think they should hear rather than what they ask. I struggle with the ethics of confidential information, especially since I have an almost insatiable desire to find out everything about everything. I stick my nose into other people’s business and then regret knowing what I do. Sometimes maybe I stretch the boundaries of what is legal when I investigate.” We were quiet for a few minutes, almost dozing as we listened to the silence around us—relishing in the fact that our only sensory input was from one another.

Her face was buried against my chest and I could feel the area heating up. I was aware of the moisture between us and I wiped her tears away in the darkness.

“I have a secret,” she said. “A secret I’ve never told anyone.” I kept very still. This was not the time to ask questions. It was only a time to love unconditionally. “You know, don’t you? I knew that you would know one day. When I decided to let myself fall in love with you, I decided I would tell you, and I can’t go any longer without.” She was whispering to me as I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. I had figured out she wasn’t Andi Marx, but I didn’t care.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Yes, I do. I planned to tell Cali when she turns eighteen, but I know she suspects something and I can’t keep it from her.” I wasn’t prepared for what came next. Nothing could possibly have prepared me.

“Cali isn’t my daughter. She’s my sister.”

Once Andi started telling the story, a floodgate opened and more than seventeen years of living a secret life spilled forth.

“Our mother was stupid only in her choice of men. My father was a mean man who only showed up once every few months and never more than for a week or two at a time. From the time I can clearly remember, Mom would keep me hidden when he was there. I had a special room I went to with lots of books. She home schooled me, not because of any religious ideas, but because she didn’t trust anyone. I think she felt the authorities would try to take me away from her if they knew what a violent person my father was.

“When I was fifteen, nearly sixteen, Mom got pregnant again. Only it wasn’t my father’s child. He threw a fit the next time he came home, beat her up, and then swore he’d kill us both the next time he came home.

“I’ll never understand why she didn’t just take us and leave. She certainly knew how to do it. She knew where the shelters were and even how to change her identity. But instead, she took me away and we hid until the baby was born. She convinced me I knew more than any other girl my age, so I could be six years older and have my college diploma right now. She said I’d have to change my name, but one day she would come for Cali and me and we’d be safe again. She took Cali and me to a shelter for abused women and told them that my husband was dead, I’d just given birth, and I wasn’t safe from my father. She gave me a packet of documents that included birth certificates for Anne Doreen Sullivan and California Celeste Marx, a marriage certificate to Charles Marx, his death certificate, and an insurance policy. It also included my college diploma. I made up the whole story about Charles Marx and how he died after my college graduation. I read a story about it somewhere and just adopted it as my own. I don’t know where Mom got the name California, but Celeste was her name. I stayed in the shelter until I could find a job and then they helped me get day care for Cali while I worked and picked up more education credits to fill in the blanks of a college education that I’d never had.

“It was only a couple of months after I went to the shelter that my father killed Mom and then shot himself. Since they’d moved again recently, no one knew about me or Cali. I stayed away. It was almost a year later that I remembered the insurance policy in my packet of papers and called the agency. They said the funds were payable to a trust and they would be happy to have it signed over to me. It was for half a million dollars. I checked the policy and it was for $250,000, but since she was murdered, it paid a double indemnity.

“Once the paperwork was finished, Cali and I moved to Washington. You see, I’d never made it out of Michigan before. I’ve never even been to Florida where my diploma says I graduated. I did get my teaching certificate once I got here and I was surprised at how easy it was for me get a job teaching high school kids who were the same age I was. While my students started college, I got my Master’s in Literature and Education and then got a big break when I got a job at the Community College and could lighten my schedule. With careful investing I was able to buy the duplex and pay most of the mortgage out of the rent. Cali and I have had a comfortable life for a single parent except…”

It seemed like her story had run its course and I was so dumbfound that I couldn’t speak. I just held my precious girl in my arms and smothered her with kisses and love. Eventually she rubbed her cheek against mine.

“Except I’d never let myself get close to a man because I was so afraid he’d find out and they would take Cali away from me. Until you.”

“I love you, Andi. I will never betray your secret. It’s really nobody’s business. You are the only mother Cali has ever known and she loves you.”

“I knew you would find out. It’s who you are. But I know I can trust you. I’ve been alone so long.” She was sobbing against my chest. Tears were flowing freely from my own eyes. My poor, precious girl. We rocked each other in our arms and maybe we even fell asleep for a bit when the weeping subsided. I would never let her go.

“What’s your real name, Andi?” I asked softly, not really sure if she was awake.

“Rachel Evans. And don’t worry. I did the math. I pass the half plus seven test.”

We laughed. Our laughter turned to more kissing and the kissing to more loving. There in the dark womb of my room we couldn’t tell where one left off and the other began. We shared one body and we came as one person.

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