Page 59 of One More Secret

I lock my purse and street clothes in the spare locker in the staff room. My hair’s pulled up in a ponytail, and I cover it with the hairnet.

My first task is chopping the onions. Keshia shows me how fine they need to be. While I work on them, she makes a batch of muffins.

Memories of Saturday night, of when I hugged Troy, seep in as I chop. I can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t stop thinking about how good it felt to hug him and to be hugged. Granny had raised me to show I care about a person through an embracing touch. She told me love and hugs made the world a better place, and if more people embraced, there’d be fewer wars.

“What time do you start?” I ask Keshia without pausing a beat from my onion chopping. Showtunes from her playlist pipe through the Bluetooth speaker, loud enough to be a distraction, but not too loud we can’t talk if we want.

“Four-thirty.”

“This morning?” The pitch of my voice rises in a disbelieving squeak.

Keshia’s laughter fills the room. “It’s not all that bad. I’m used to getting up early. And it just means my day will be finished that much sooner, and I have time to do more fun things in life. That’s the best thing about this job. While everyone else is working, we won’t be. We’ll be done for the day.”

She’s right. My shift finishes at two, which leaves me with the rest of the afternoon to clear the mess of dead plants in my front yard.

Keshia sings, her Jennifer Hudson voice echoing off the walls. By the second song, she has me singing along with her. I can sing. But nothing like Keshia.

When Zara enters the kitchen an hour later, I’ve already finished chopping the massive pile of onions, and I’m working my way through the huge bag of carrots. It’s a mindless task, but Keshia’s playlist makes it more fun than it was when I worked in the prison kitchen.

“How’s it going so far?” Zara’s voice isn’t cold. Her tone isn’t demanding. Her words are spoken with a casual, friendly ease I never experienced in Beckley.

“Good,” I tell her, the hint of a relieved smile on my face.

“Have you recovered from the hike?”

“I have. But I haven’t gotten over how incredible the view was from the top.” It made up for the lack of the ocean I miss.

“Does that mean you’ll come with us the next time we go?”

I grin, joy bubbling inside me at how different my life has become since I left Beckley. So different than how I’d imagined it would be when Florence drove from the prison gates. “I would like that. I had fun.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Zara leans back on the counter. “And are you joining us for Game Night on Friday?”

The bubbles fizzle and burst. I had fun on Friday, but sitting in the same room as a man who wears an identical uniform to my dead husband is too much. “I’m…I’m not sure yet.”

Zara picks up one of the uncut carrots and fiddles with it. “Troy seems to like you.” Her casually friendly tone has turned curious, her words almost a question. Keshia is working on the other side of the kitchen and can’t hear us.

“He seems like a nice guy.” I focus on chopping the carrot so I don’t have to see her reaction to my reply.

“Troy’s wonderful. You can’t have a better male friend than him. I mean, other than Garrett. Troy’s like a brother to me. I’ve known him most of my life. And I can’t remember the last time he dated anyone. Well, not since his girlfriend two years ago.”

I have no idea where she’s going with this. I keep chopping.

She puts the carrot she was playing with on the cutting board. “Do you like him?”

“Sure. Like I said, he seems like a nice guy.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” Her voice is caramel smooth and just as sweet. “I know you recently got out of a bad relationship, Jess. But just so you know, it wouldn’t be a bad relationship if you were with Troy.”

An unexpected laugh erupts from my lungs. This is not a conversation I ever imagined having with Zara or any of Troy’s friends. I look up from the cutting board. “Are you trying to set me up with him?”

She chuckles, maybe at the disbelief on my face. “No. Not at all. I’m no Cupid. Just ask Em. She learned that lesson the hard way last year. But do you know how many women Troy has invited to join us for Game Night or to come hiking with us?”

“Five?”

“Zero.”

Not even his girlfriend when they were dating? “And you’re telling me this because…?”

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