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Episode 77: The Weight of a Secret
The morning air in Cannon Beach was thick with a salty mist that clung to the windows of the men’s dorm. Ted stood before the small, cracked mirror in his room, splashing freezing water onto his face. He felt ragged. This was supposed to be his day off—a day for Shelley—but the staff manager had cornered him with a desperate look. Someone had called in sick, and the breakfast shift was a man down.
Ted scrambled to get ready, his fingers fumbling with his collar. He hadn’t even managed to get his tie on; he’d have to loop it around his neck and tighten it on the run. He swung the door open, nearly colliding with Shelley, whose hand was already raised to knock.
"Shelley!" Ted blurted out, his eyes wide with frustration. "I hate this, I really do... but somebody got sick and they’re making me serve breakfast. It’s not right. Of all the days, Shelley..."
Shelley offered a small, weary smile. She looked soft in the morning light, wearing a white lace button-down shirt. "Well, since I'm up anyway," she said softly, "I think I’ll just go back, grab my book, and head to the courtyard to read for a bit. Just take it easy, alright?"
"I’ll do my best," Ted promised, his heart sinking. "I’m only staying for the serving. I’m leaving the cleanup to the rest of the gang. Two hours, Shelley. Two hours max, and I’m done." He leaned in and gave her a friendly, respectful peck on her cheek. He wanted more, but he knew they weren't there yet.
As he rushed off, Shelley touched her cheek where his lips had grazed her skin. She wished he had stayed for a real kiss—a long, deep one like they used to share—but she whispered to the empty hallway, "I can wait." She turned back to her room to grab her copy of *The Odyssey*.
Ted burst into the dining hall’s back room, finding the manager amidst a whirlwind of prep. "I know I’m being a bit annoying," Ted said, stepping into her line of sight. "And I know I do one of the best jobs here, but today was my day off. I was supposed to be with Shelley. You know the drama—we *need* this time. So, I’ll work the breakfast, but I’m leaving when the serving is done. I’m not staying for cleanup." The manager, sensing his intensity, simply gave a silent nod of approval.
Ted flipped into "waiter mode" instantly. He rallied the slackers, went over the three breakfast choices, and memorized the names of guests with severe dietary restrictions. He was a machine, clearing plates and refilling coffees with such efficiency that the manager eventually saddled him with two extra tables. Ted groaned inwardly, but his focus was singular: *Two hours. Get back to Shelley.*
In the courtyard, Shelley settled into a lounge chair. The early sun was finally cutting through the mist. She opened her book, but her mind drifted. *What would Gage think of this story?* she wondered. She felt a pang of guilt—she’d only known him two days. *This day is for Ted,* she coached herself. *Focus.*
Suddenly, a large shadow fell over her pages. She looked up to see Gage.
"Hey," he said with a warm, easy smile. "I see you're reading *The Odyssey*. That's a good book. I’ve read that three or four times."
Shelley smiled, the guilt fading under his gaze. "Have a seat, Gage."
Gage sat, marveling at the easy friendship between them. He felt like he could tell her anything, even the secret that weighed on him. "Shelley," he said, "why don't we go and get some of those donuts? Downtown at Pietro’s. We can get them to go and walk toward North Beach. It’s beautiful out there."
Shelley checked her watch. She had two hours. It was a long walk, but she figured they could make it. "Sure," she said. "I can always use a donut, but not too many. I don't want to get fat."
Gage laughed. "No way. At most, you’re too skinny."
Shelley blushed, a heat rising in her chest that she hadn't felt in months. In her rush to leave the dorm, she hadn't put on a bra under her white lace shirt. As they walked toward the far end of North Beach, the conversation turned deep. Gage picked up shells for her. "A pretty shell for a pretty Shelley," he teased.
She felt so seen, so desired in that moment, that she did something entirely against her conservative nature. She reached up and undid two more buttons of her shirt, exposing a daring amount of cleavage. She didn't realize that in the bright coastal sun, the lace was nearly translucent, showing the clear outline of her nipples. Gage noticed, but he kept his eyes on the horizon, trying to be a gentleman.
They sat on a rock, watching the waves. Gage finally took a breath. "Shelley, I have a secret. A secret why I was asked to leave my last job." He gulped. "I once was in the gay lifestyle. I’m gay, but I’m not practicing. I’m trying to focus on other things... but if this gets out here, I’ll have to move again. Promise me you won't tell anyone. Not the girls, and definitely not Ted."
Shelley’s mind spun. "You're gay? Like... *gay* gay?" She sat back, stunned. "Of course I'll keep your secret, Gage. It's nobody's business."
Gage exhaled, pure relief on his face. "Thank you. We just have such chemistry... I had to tell you."
Shelley felt a sting of irony. The one man who made her feel "hot" and "sexy" was the one man she couldn't have. Then, she looked at her watch. "Oh, s***! Ted! I forgot about Ted!"
They were nearly an hour away on foot. They began to power-walk back, Gage reminding her again, "Remember, Shelley. Not a word to Ted."
Back at the center, Ted had finished early. He ran to the courtyard, tie messy, heart full of hope. But the chair was empty. He checked the dorm, but a girl told him Shelley had been gone since 7:00. He checked with an old landscaper, who rasped, "She went off with that new guy. Into town."
Ted’s blood turned to ice. He walked to Pietro’s, where the clerk confirmed it: "She was in here with a tall guy. They got donuts and headed to North Beach."
Ted went back and sat in that courtyard chair. He sat for forty-five minutes, his fury ripening into something hard and cold.
Finally, Shelley and Gage came into view. As they approached, Ted stood up. He didn't look at Gage; he looked through him. Gage felt the chill, muttered a quick goodbye, and vanished.
"One," Ted snapped, his voice trembling. "Why did you go to the beach instead of reading? And two... why are you not wearing a bra? With the light hitting you, I can see your nipples. I don't want to see them. And with your buttons undone... your cleavage is popping out. What was that for, Shelley? What exactly did you do out there? How far did it go?"
Shelley tried to compose herself. "We were just walking and talking! I thought I'd be back! I was in a hurry and forgot my bra... it happens!"
"And the buttons?" Ted challenged.
"I... I was trying to get his eyes," she admitted, her voice breaking. "You broke up with me! You don't know how much I cried!"
Ted’s expression went flat. "If you want to be with Gage, I’m not going to fight it. I’ve had enough big fights lately. But every time he has a spare second, he’s talking to you."
"We're just friends!" she cried. "We talk about plays and musicals! He’s not even... I’m not his type of woman!"
"Not his type?" Ted laughed bitterly. "You've known him two days and you're listening to his life story. I don't know, Shelley. I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to get hurt. Let's just call today a wash. I'll see you tomorrow."
He turned and walked away, his back a rigid wall of disappointment.
"But Ted! Wait!" she screamed, the truth about Gage clawing at her throat. But she had promised. She couldn't say it.
She watched him go, then turned and ran to her dorm. She collapsed onto her bed, the room empty and silent, and sobbed until her chest ached. She was losing the man she loved over a secret she wasn't allowed to tell.
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