Page 2 of Secrets

“It seems that’s everyone’s gift here,” he grinned. “It was a shock for me, but I can’t tell you how wonderful my conversations with them have been. Especially Franklin. As a black man in America, I never thought to be able to have a conversation with a man who was an actual slave.”

“Did it help you?” she asked.

“Yes. And it confused me a bit. Miss Martha, she was generous and kind to Franklin and all of the people on this property. They were extremely fortunate to have been brought here and not somewhere else. The relationship, friendship that Martha and Franklin have is precious, and it’s taught me a lot about human behavior and the choices we make.”

“Well, that’s a good thing,” said Irene, patting his hand. “Now, tell me why you’re feeling lonely.” Trevon smiled at her, shaking his head in disbelief. Although he wasn’t sure why, he was in disbelief. The woman knew everything.

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he smirked.

“You could try, but it wouldn’t do you any good,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I’d find out eventually, and then I’d be fussin’ at you for not comin’ to me sooner.”

Trevon smiled at her, looking around at all the buzz of activity. Leo and Tillie had just been married, and it seemed the festivities were flooding into the following days.

“Everyone seems so happy. So content and in love. I wonder if love is just something not in my future. Maybe it’s not for everyone, and I’m one of those people. I mean, I could just get a dog.”

“Trevon, listen to me, baby. Love isn’t something that just pops out at you in the grocery store. I mean, it can if you’re really lucky, but usually, it’s something that takes time. You see someone from across that room that just speaks to you.”

“Speaks to me?” he frowned.

“Yes. Someone that when you look at their face, your heart beats a little faster, your stomach gets them butterflies, and all you want to do is spend the rest of your life making them happy, making them smile.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that before,” he said quietly.

“That’s because your perfect person hasn’t come around just yet. You gotta be patient when it comes to love, honey.” He nodded at her, and she looked up, staring at the figures moving around the cafeteria. “What about Millicent? I see you talkin’ to her now and then, and she always makes a special plate just for you. She seems like she might be special.”

Trevon looked over his shoulder, seeing the woman wiping down the tables in the cafeteria. She was a puzzle to him. She was pretty, but that’s really all he knew about her, other than she could cook.

“She’s awful hard to talk to, Mama Irene. I know there’s something going on in her past, but it’s hard to get to know a woman when she won’t talk to you.”

“I can see that,” nodded Irene. “You know, the two of you aren’t so different. She’s lonely as well. Feeling like she’s out of place, but I expect she’s scared to move on, to move away from us. She’s safe here, and she knows it.”

“Does she need to be safe? I sure wish someone would tell me something,” he frowned.

“Listen to me, baby. A woman always needs to feel safe. Sometimes, it’s because she’s been through somethin’ terrible. Sometimes, it’s because she’s just never had anyone who cared. I’ll be honest. I don’t know all her secrets, but I know she’s got a mess of ‘em.”

“Secrets,” he repeated in a whisper. “Lord, how I hate secrets.”

“I know, baby. I know. Tonight, instead of just swingin’ on your front porch at midnight, why don’t you come back here to the gardens? It looks completely different at night.”

“Come to the gardens? At night? Mama Irene, what are you about?” he smirked.

“I’m about doin’ what I do,” she said, standing from her little stool. “You keep weedin’ all these beds, and I’m gonna go get some more flowers to plant over there.”

“Yes, ma’am. Mama Irene? Thank you for the talk.”

“Any time, baby. Any time.”

CHAPTER TWO

Millicent Fraser watched as her father and two brothers beat the man on the ground with a lead pipe. He was dead. He’d been dead for at least the last ten minutes, but they didn’t seem to care. She sat in the truck just staring at them, wishing she could run.

But where was a ten-year-old little girl supposed to run to? The police? No way. They knew her father and her brothers, and in spite of what everyone said about the police, they seemed to like her family. In fact, they seemed to respect them.

No, she couldn’t go anywhere. She was guilty by association. At least that’s what her father and brothers told her.

“If you tell the cops, Millie, you’ll go to jail and be beaten every day,” said her brother Tick.

“You tell anyone, and we’ll kill you,” said her brother Jay. He was the meanest. Not as mean as her father but meaner than Tick.

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