The Secret Keeping Read Online Free PDF Page B

details of that tortuous romance, which were easy to guess at anyway, judging from its long lasting effects. On Delilah’s part, she had shared everything. One night stands, kinky interludes, pathetic lovers, even the unwanted pregnancy. The only thing that Lydia didn’t know about Delilah was that she had to color her hair.
    Delilah was now of the opinion that Lydia had not only become secretive, but morose and morbidly self reflective, dwelling, undoubtedly, on some supposed personal defects instead of admitting the obvious, that it had simply been an unlucky event, becoming involved with a man who was just a pathological misogynist. It could happen to anyone if you’re not careful. Which Ms. Beaumont hadn’t been.
    The new Lydia Beaumont was troubling to Delilah. It was unhealthy to be so elusive and joyless. It was unhealthy not to date. And there were certain moments when Lydia even appeared tentative, undecided, dangerously suspended in a state of second guessing. This might happen even if she was only buying bread or ordering something in a restaurant. And now speaking in broken sentences. The voice trailing off effect was absolutely maddening. And that perpetually quizzical expression, as if all of life had instantly become curious and overwhelming. She pictured the sudden paralysis that overcame her friend whenever she happened to lay her eyes on that miserable, miserable man. Delilah wanted to see her cured of this and she constantly encouraged Lydia to at least say hi to him, in the hope that being able to do so would break the spell. But no.
    Last week in Frank’s Place–it was a spell her friend was under and Delilah was sure that she was falling deeper into it. To her way of thinking, Lydia just needed to get laid, that’s all, and there were plenty of one-night-easy-overs standing at the bar. You don’t throw yourself into the fire to escape a hot pan. Go for the easy conquests. That’s how you get yourself back into the game. She’d work on this theme all through Wednesday if necessary. Both of them had taken the day off to go shopping together and to grab some nourishment along the way.

    _____

    “I ask only that you be articulate and clever. I don’t care if you talk with your mouth full, as long as you talk, Liddy.” She glanced at her watch. “Go!”
    “Okay, Del. Only four more years till I retire.”
    Delilah counted the words out on her fingers. “Give me at least ten more.”
    “I hate my fucking job. I hate my fucking job.”
    “That’s lovely, dear, just lovely. Have some water. You must be exhausted.”
    Lydia grinned. “Del, have you ever…?” her voice trailed off as she set the glass down without drinking anything.
    “Try again, Liddy. I probably have.”
    Probably not, thought Lydia. Or she’d know about it.
    “I’m going to be frank with you, Liddy. Ever since that creep dumped–”
    “No, no! Please, Del. Not dumped. Come on, Del. Dumped?”
    Delilah took a deep breath. “Walked all over you?”
    Lydia sucked in her air, too. She stared out the window. “Walked is…well…a little harsh.” She paused and looked away. “Okay, I’ll admit to walked.”
    After awhile Delilah said, “Have I ever what?”
    Lydia considered the question. She couldn’t ask it now.
    “Okay, whatever it is, if I haven’t I would have. Especially if I were you, okay?”
    Lydia laughed and feigned to be counting her words. “How am I doing?”
    Delilah rolled her eyes, “I’d really like to know.”
    _____

    It wasn’t a huge office, but it had a floor-to-ceiling window which looked down onto the street. If she stood at the far right end of it, she could peer out toward the harbor, midtown if she stood left of center, although there was another office building directly across the street. She liked to stand at the glass sometimes and watch the people below. They never noticed her.
    It was a teaser. Sixty-five degrees by three o’clock. The end of the week and Lydia was