The Secrets We Kept(75)

“The real deal. Absolutely. Aren’t you glad you came out tonight?”

“What’s with the waitress?” Teddy asked. He loosened his tie. “We should’ve gone home to change. We look like a couple of feds.”

“Speak for yourself,” Henry said, dusting something invisible off his navy blue jacket. “And you know damn well that if we’d gone home first, you’d have just stayed in. What’s with you lately, Teddy boy?”

Instead of answering, Teddy rose to get another drink, returning with two martinis, an extra olive in his.

“A toast?” Henry asked.

“To what?”

“The book, of course. May our literary weapon of mass destruction make the monster squeal.”

Teddy raised his glass half-mast. “Za zdorovye.”

Kathy and Norma, still unnoticed, raised their own glasses to toast the victory.

The two men watched as Shirley dipped her head to her keys, looked up to the ceiling, then glanced over at a man wearing a black Stetson with a peacock feather sitting up front at a small round table.

“What’s the story there?” Henry asked, nodding toward the man at the table.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Come on! For old times’ sake.”

“Husband,” Teddy replied. “He sits and watches her every show. Or maybe…a lover?”

“No,” Henry said. “Ex-husband. Watching her perform is as close as she lets him get.”

“That’s good, real good.”

“Any chance of reconciliation?”

“No.”

The two friends sat for a few minutes.

“You sure you’re all right, Ted?”

Teddy finished his drink in two gulps.

“How’s Irina?”

“She’s fine.”

“Cold feet’s normal. Hell, I have cold feet now, and I’m not even dating anyone.”

“It’s not that. She just…she gets so quiet.”

“We all have our quiet moments.”

“Nah, this is different. And when I ask why she’s quiet, she gets mad.” Teddy looked around. “Where’s the goddamn waitress?”

“So…to change the subject—”

“Thank you.”

“Wanna hear a rumor?” Henry asked.

Kathy and Norma leaned back to hear better.

“Would I be in this business if I didn’t?”

“You hear about the redhead?”

“Sally Forrester?”

Norma and Kathy shot each other a look.

“Bingo,” said Henry.

“And?”

“About to be tossed. Damn shame too. I loved seeing her coming, but not as much as I liked seeing her go.”

“Why?”

“I’ve always preferred a nice ass.”

Norma rolled her eyes.

“No, why’s she going to be canned?”

“That’s the best part. You’ll never guess.”

“Just tell me.”

Henry leaned back in the booth. “Ho-mo-sexual.”

“What?” Norma let out, unable to contain herself. The men didn’t notice, but Norma and Kathy sank down in the booth a few more inches.

“What?” Teddy asked.

“Well, Ted, it means she prefers the company of other women.”

“I mean, when did this happen? I thought you two had a thing or something?”

Henry sipped his drink. “Maybe some guy dumped her and she never looked back.”

“Jesus Christ.” Teddy lowered his voice. “I mean, how did you find out?”

“You know better than to ask for my sources.”

“She’s Irina’s best friend,” Teddy said. “I mean, they haven’t been spending as much time together, but—”

“Maybe that’s it. Maybe Irina found out Sally’s little secret too.”

“She never mentioned anything to me.”

“All relationships are built on small omissions.”

Shirley ended “If I Shall Lose You” and addressed the crowd. “Y’all stay put now. Order another drink to warm your soul, and I’ll be back in a hot minute.” She rose from the piano and sat down next to the man wearing the black Stetson. He kissed her and she pushed him away but held on to his wrist, turning it over to kiss its underside.

“Definitely a lover,” Teddy said.



* * *





In late August there was a massive thunderstorm and half the District went dark. The morning commute was a mess, and the buses and streetcars ran late or not at all. Irina usually took the bus to work, but on that day, Teddy must’ve picked her up, because when we were getting our morning coffee in the break room, we noticed them still sitting in his blue and white Dodge Lancer. We tried not to watch, but that proved difficult, as the break room window overlooked the east parking lot.

It was already nine thirty, but the couple was showing no signs of hustling in. Instead, they sat, and we pressed our faces against the window until the glass fogged. By nine forty-five, we cracked the window, hoping we could hear something, but had to close it again when a gust of rain blew into our faces.