Keeping Secrets in Seattle - By Brooke Moss Page 0,2
at recess and sneak flowers from his mom’s garden into my desk. One time he even gave me all of his lunch when my mom forgot to send money. All of it. Every bite.
Holy hell, my hands were sweating. I crossed the busy dining room carrying a bowl of sweet potatoes, my mother chattering away beside me. I watched Gabe pull a chair out for Alicia, and my fingers curled against the side of the bowl.
Why was she even here? Had they gotten back together? Gabe usually told me everything, but somehow he’d managed to forget to mention this little nugget. He must have brought her because she didn’t have family in Seattle. Yeah, that was it. She’d taken their breakup hard, and Gabe—ever the golden boy—invited her so that she wouldn’t be alone. What a guy.
When I saw him, every nerve ending in my body hummed with excitement. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and my chest tightened painfully when he looked at me across a room. Nearly ten years after we’d tried unsuccessfully to date, my feelings for Gabe hadn’t waned. He was just…the one.
As if the fact that she was unbearably nice wasn’t enough, Alicia was a waif with long legs and visible collarbones. I was shaped like an old-fashioned Coke bottle with boobs, hips, and thighs. Where she had long russet hair and bright green eyes, I had hazel eyes and hair that was once blond but was now streaked with pink. When I was around Alicia, I felt chubby and cumbersome, and not at all like the confident woman I usually was. And it drove me crazy how enamored Gabe was with her waifish beauty.
Just a month or so before the holidays, he’d said that he wasn’t ready to settle down. And they’d broken up just a few days ago. Sure, he’d brought her to Christmas dinner with him, but as soon as the meal was over, I was going to sequester him in a different room and profess my feelings. That would get rid of the beautiful and lovable Alicia once and for all, wouldn’t it? Just because she was willowy, had gorgeous auburn hair, and volunteered at a soup kitchen, it didn’t mean I couldn’t scare the skinny cow away if I needed to.
“Put that bowl right there, Violet.” Gabe’s dad patted me on the shoulder as he passed me carrying a stack of Christmas CDs, jolting me out of my thoughts. When I looked up at him, my skin warmed at the sight of his light aqua blue eyes, the same shade as his son’s, though Gabe’s cocoa skin differed from Guthrie’s pale Caucasian.
I nodded at him, and watched Gabe through the corner of my eye. He was such an exquisite mix of his Caucasian father and African-American mother. He was tall and muscular like Guthrie had always been, and had his mother’s full lips and toothy grin that filled her face with joy. And his blue eyes had been my weakness since I was six years old.
“Let’s sit down, dear. They’re ready to serve.” My mom tugged on my hand and pulled me into a chair next to her at the table, making a centerpiece of gold balls and fresh holly jiggle. When I scooted up to the table, she gave me a sideways glance. “What’s wrong? You’re all sweaty.”
“It’s just the eggnog, Ma.” I watched one of Gabe’s aunts plaster his cheeks with kisses and enjoyed the sounds of laughter and conversation.
Giggling, my mom nudged my stepfather Curtis. “I thought I saw Guthrie adding a nip to the bowl.”
Christmas music began to play softly on the nearby stereo, which was the Parker family’s way of telling the crowd to make their way to their seats. On my mother’s other side, Curtis poured a glass of wine, then passed the bottle my way, whispering, “Fill your glass. Someone’s giving a toast.”
I peeled my eyes from Gabe’s face and took the wine. Toasts were a big tradition at Parker family Christmas dinners. We’d joined them for countless celebrations over the years, and I loved every moment of the holidays with them—from the way their restored Victorian home was decorated from the floor to the rafters, to the homemade goodies set up on every surface, to the guest list of loved ones who treated my family like their own.
“Why does Nora look so anxious?” my mom whispered.
I craned my neck to spot Gabe’s mother at the opposite end of