The Things We Don't Say

CHAPTER TWO

Secrets. It always starts with "Promise not to tell anyone....." , but the moment it goes from one ear to another it becomes a danger of being the next big gossip in town.
As usual my eyes flew open as if in a shock at two in the morning. I remembered about Adam Gilbert, the stranger that we just met last night. He said he was looking for an Amy Gilbert, the same name that Elaine kept saying before she died. It was unusual for someone to just pop up late at night and look for a missing person.
I got up and get my laptop from my drawer near the door and stepped downstairs. I put my laptop in the counter and turn it on, it takes time to boot so I'm making cofee. I put the coffee powder in the machine and it gives off a whirring sound. Moments like this - quiet and my brain is to early to be paranoid- are rare so I enjoyed it as much as I can. I stared at the black liquid flowing, filling the glass pot of the coffe maker. When the coffee is done brewing, I filled my mug with the coffee and added two teaspoons of sugar. The trifling task of making coffee had relaxed me that by the time I sit infront of myt laptop, I forgot what I'm going to do.
I stared at my desktop, it's a picture of Nana, me, and Elaine. "Ah Amy Gilbert." I said to no one in particular.
Amy Gilbert is not a common name, the search engine return with at least three pages of search results. I peeked at the kitchen clock, 2:45. I have almost one hour of stalking before Nana wakes up and look over my shoulder. She doesn't like it when I snoop around, she says that it is no better than gossiping.
I click and scroll through not really knowing what I'm searching for. Maybe the girl I'm looking for is within my age range, maybe younger or a bit older. A city girl, with perfectly blown out hair. I sip and browse through profiles of strangers drinking their favorite macchiato in some hippie coffee shop, picture of shoes in a pavement, a stolen shot that looks more scripted than stolen. A picture of a wine glass. A post about feelings. A post about checking into a posh place. Many people put their lives online so much that one click is all it takes to judge someone, one click is all it took to love someone, and one click is all it took to cut relationships with people. The likes, the love, the care, angry, or sad they become validations of existence. What about the laughter and the tears that were not captured on camera? What about the thoughtfulness of a simple text message that was not shared? Life, online, seemed to weigh more than the real connections made offline.
"Hey, good morning. Mind if I make my own coffee?" I turned around to see that it was Adam. I look at the kitchen clock 3:30.
"You're up early." Is all I can say. He caught me off guard. Had he seen my screen, I better hope not. I closed my laptop and sip the last of my coffee.
"I'm used to waking up early. You want a refill ?" He moved in the kitchen like he knows his way around. I watched his every movement looking for secrets that might be hiding behind every gesture, or in the sleeves of his shirt. He look for a mug in the cupboard, swish it with water and pour the still hot coffee, he gets my cup and fill it with coffee too. "Sugar? Creamer?" No creamer, just two teaspoons of sugar I told him, my speech clipped.
He sat in front of me and put the cups in front of us. We both watched the thin smoke of the coffee. I cast furtive glances his way, trying not to make him notice that I'm studying his profile. He looks better, rested. Nana offered him our couch for two weeks because we don't have any vacancy. It was irresponsible of us, because we don't know who he really is, but Nana believes that sometimes we have to learn to trust people. If this guy really needed help then we would feel bad for not helping him.
" Is Amy your sister?" I said breaking the silence.
He sips his coffee before answering " She's my fiancee and we both share the same last name."
I was just about to ask that. "Why would you look for her here? Did someone tipped you off?"
"I don't really know where she is. I was driving to the city thinking that she might be there, but I had a flat tire last night I bumped into the pinetree along the highway. The mechanic says he needs at least three weeks to fix my car. I figured I could rest for three weeks and try my luck to find Amy here." His eyes shift between looking into my eyes and looking into the black pool of liquid in his mug. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a picture and showed me a picture of him and Amy. They looked really happy. Adam has his arms around Amy's shoulder, Amy's hands holding Adam. I can see why Adam would go through every city searching for her, she looked like Amber Heard with red hair.
"You look good together." I say with sincerity, I rarely do compliments.
Adam is smiling but his eyes could never hide his sadness. "We do. " He looked thoughtfully into his cup as if he could search for answers.
"How did you meet her?" My voice a little excited to hear their story.