Free Journals of the Secret Keeper by Jennifer L Ray

water run down her skin. The temperature in the
room was just right. Fall was just around the
corner and the weather in Mississippi was
seasonally mild. She thought she could possibly
have most of the journals read before wintertime.
She could tolerate the hot temperatures of
summertime, but absolutely loathed being cold.
Winter was her least favorite season.
    She suddenly realized that her dry towel was
on the bed on the other side of the screen. She
would have to get out of the tub and wet the floor.
It was wood and newly waxed so she couldn't do
too much damage. But before she could lift a foot
out of the tub, the towel appeared over the top of the
screen dangling from Andrik's hand.
    Willetta reached for the towel and wrapped
herself in it hurriedly before she climbed out of the
tub with no regard for the floor and splattered her
way around the screen to face Andrik.
    "How long have you been in here?" she
asked wildly.
Andrik was stricken dumb by the sight of
Willetta in the wet towel. Her hair was plastered to
her scalp and sticking to the wetness of her neck.
The dark brown of her skin glistened and she was
the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
"I just came in. You didn't hear me," he said
quietly.
Willetta had never in her life been more
sensitive to her naked state. Her skin seemed to
take huge gulping breaths of air and she felt
skinless, raw and overly exposed. The huge towel
was little to no comfort.
"Why didn't you knock?" She wanted to
know.
"We're supposed to be lovers. Remember,"
Andrik said. He felt foolish the minute it came out
of his mouth. He had been pacing the hall and had
impulsively walked into her room to ask her
questions regarding Martha Thompson. The old
woman gave him the creeps. He couldn't
understand why she was here under the same roof
with them. He needed Willetta to remind him and
convince him they were doing the right thing. He
had no idea Willetta would be up at this hour taking
a bath.
Willetta was at a loss for words. She had
forgotten, but it served no purpose, in her mind, for
him to be in her room at the very moment, when
there was no audience. Martha had been in bed for
hours. She had refused to eat with them and had
taken herself off in a huff.
Willetta pulled the towel tighter around her
body and looked up into Andrik's face. He was
staring at her feet and looking a little loss. He
would not look into her eyes. This was not the first
time Willetta had witnessed this lack of confidence
in him. He was tall, extremely handsome, and
educated, but she often felt that he wasn't exactly
sure of himself or his abilities.
"Do you need to talk, Andrik," she asked
softly.
"I just don't know if it’s a good idea to have
that woman here," he said finally looking into her
eyes.
She understood his reticence and felt a little
of it herself, but Willetta had seen a resemblance
between herself and the old woman. It was enough
to convince her that the woman was her
grandmother. Martha Thompson's hands were
identical to hers. Willetta could see it even though
her skin was old and crinkled. The nail beds and
bone structure were the same as her own. There
were other similarities, but none as convincing as
the hands.
"Let's go sit on the back porch in that
wonderful swing of yours and talk. I'll be down to
meet you in a minute. Just let me get into my
pajamas please. And Andrik, please knock before
you come into this room," she said.
Andrik stood his full height and slowly ran
his eyes along her entire frame before grinning. He
turned away and walked to the door. Willetta
watched as he opened the door and made a big show
of locking it, before closing it. Willetta shrugged.
Yes, she should have locked it. It was an oversight
that would not be repeated in the future.
#
Andrik's hands shook as he filled two mugs
with hot water and stirred in cocoa and cream. He
pulled out some apple fritters and placed it all on a
tray. The musk-scented steam from Willetta's bath
still clung