SECRETS SPILLED #2
While it wasn’t a frequent occurrence for the two of them to see each other during the school day, it also wasn't out of the ordinary for Linda to pop up on Twyla for a midday meal, or for the two of them to have lunch together. And though Twyla likely could’ve predicted this had she really thought about it, she was more concerned with how she’d missed her mother enter the restaurant and place a whole to-go order without her realizing it.
Had she seriously been that caught up in Arturo that she’d lost all sense of her special awareness?
Actually, the answer to that was a resounding yes and she wasn’t mad about it.
What she was mad about, however, was the fact that she was now being forced to introduce the two of them despite it being the absolute last thing she wanted to do today.
Or this week. Hell, or this month. Unfortunately, it was inevitable.
She turned to look through the glass into the restaurant, smiling and waving at Arturo as they locked eyes.
Seeing his slightly turned up lips soothed the anxiety roiling inside of her at what she was about to do.
The moment he stepped outside, she grabbed his arm and turned back to her mother.
"Mama, this is—"
"Mama?!"
"Arturo?!"
Linda and Arturo's simultaneous exclamations startled Twyla and she bounced her attention back and forth between the two.
"Uh…what? You two know each other?"
Dread began to gather in the pit of her belly, and she prayed it wasn't what she was thinking.
She prayed that they'd only met in passing and that their shared incredulity was innocuous, but if it turned out that they'd slept together, Twyla was going to throw up her sandwich and all remnants from her breakfast.
The first person to speak was Arturo. His voice sounded pained and when Twyla looked at him, his expression had darkened with sadness.
That dread that had begun to form bloomed into a boulder that sank right to the bottom of her gut.
Her throat tightened and her eyes prickled with the urge to cry.
Without either of them saying more than a single word, Twyla knew that things with Arturo were about to end before they’d ever really begun.
"Yes, Twyla,” Arturo said, finally breaking the heavy silence. “I know your mother."
"How?" Twyla choked out, turning to Linda, who was eying her with a guilty expression on her face. "How do you know Arturo, Mama?"
"How do you know him?"
Twyla clenched her jaw, annoyed that her mother was trying to turn it on her instead of just answering the question. Rolling her eyes, she snapped off an angry retort. "We work together! Now answer my question, please!"
Linda sighed and her brown eyes bounced around the busy street behind them before flicking to Arturo and finally landing on Twyla.
"Arturo is…" she cleared her throat. "He's my brother."
Twyla hadn’t thought it could be worse than the two of them sleeping together, but she’d been wrong.
It was so much worse. Her stomach heaved as a wave of nausea washed over her.
One hand slapped over her mouth while the other pressed against her stomach.
Suddenly, the thought of having fucked the same man as her mother wasn't so bad.
In fact, that was preferable to what had just been revealed to her.
Snatching away from Arturo, she shook her head and took a step back from the both of them.
They stared at her, their faces conveying completely different emotions yet somehow looking the exact same to her.
Continuing to shake her head, she stepped backward until she was no longer within arm’s reach, then spun on her heels and hurried back to Bright Horizons.
Somehow, she made it into the building and to her wing without anyone stopping her with a question or casual conversation.
The way her stomach churned, it was a blessing.
She barely made it to the teacher’s bathroom on her hall before bile rose up and she expelled the contents of her gut.
Tears streamed down her face as she heaved over the toilet.
Once there was nothing left and her heaving subsided, she grabbed a few paper towels, soaked in them cold water, and wiped her face and neck.
She worked the rest of the school day on auto-pilot, grateful to be teaching such a lively and demanding age group.
Constantly corralling her students was just the distraction she needed to keep from having a breakdown.
When she pulled into the driveway of the townhome, the sight of her mother’s car instantly made her grit her teeth.
She didn’t want to see the other woman right now—needing space from everything and everyone so she can process the afternoon’s events—but she also needed to know what the actual fuck was going on and why she had never heard of Arturo from her family.
The unmistakable aroma of fried porkchops greeted Twyla as she stepped over the threshold then turned to close and lock the door behind her.
Unbidden, her mouth began to water as she toed out of her shoes, and that immediately annoyed her.
She was certain that was exactly her mother’s plan—disarm her with some food while she plays victim and seeks sympathy.
Holding on to that annoyance, she tried to go straight up to her room but her mother poked her head out of the kitchen and called her name just as she passed by.
Taking a deep breath, she turned slowly to face her mother.
“Yes?” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. Her mother didn’t know that she had a reason to be broken up about this and she had no plans to tell her. Not ever.
Linda quirked an eyebrow, and Twyla expected her to fuss, but instead she offered her a half-cooked smile and jerked her head back toward the living room.
“Can we talk? I just want to explain everything real quick.”
Real quick? Twyla’s eyebrows met. How in the world could the existence of a secret brother be a quick explanation?
“I don’t know, Mama. I think I need a min—”
Linda scoffed. “Don’t make this a bigger deal than it is, okay. Just let me tell you what happened, then you can eat dinner, go take a bath, and stop looking at me like you’re mad at me even though I ain’t do nothing.”
Exasperated, Twyla huffed a breath through her nose.
“Ain’t nobody mad at you lady! I’m just annoyed that I had a whole uncle walking around the city and I didn’t know it!” And that part is your fault, she thought bitterly.
To keep the peace, she nodded and followed the other woman to the front of the house, plopping down on the opposite side of the sectional.
Linda sighed heavily and sank onto the couch, but Twyla was too angry to be moved by the fake show of exhaustion.
Pulling her legs up, she folded them underneath herself and crossed her arms over her chest. The steady drumming of her short nails against her forearms along with the stoic expression on her face should’ve been enough to let Linda know that she wasn't in the mood for nonsense.
"Okay," the older woman began…and stopped.
"Okay…?" Twyla prompted after a full minute of silence passed. "And?"
Linda sighed again, making Twyla’s blood boil. "I don't know where to begin."
Twyla threw her hands up in frustration. Why did this crazy lady act like she wanted to talk if she was gonna do all this hemming and hawing?
"Seriously, Mama? You can start with what you meant when you said that Arturo is your brother. As far as I know, Gran and Poppy only had five kids, and you were the baby. Since Arturo is only a few years older than me, maybe start with explaining how that happened.”
Leaning back against the couch, Linda sighed once more but—thankfully—began to speak.
"Okay. Well, when I was about ten, Daddy brought a baby home and said it was his son. That baby was Arturo.” She pursed her lips and looked across the room, avoiding Twyla’s gaze.