Want to Know a Secret? (10)

I wince. I’m really glad Bobby has made friends with Owen from next door, because Julie’s son isn’t the best influence.

Bobby trudges off to pack the lunch I made for him. It’s only when he’s back in the kitchen that I take one last look at the final comment on my YouTube video:



April’s secret is that she is a terrible cook and a worse person. Trust me—I know.



I log into my account, and one by one, I delete all the mean comments. There. Now it’s like it never happened.





Chapter 5


Bobby has never once been tardy for school, and today is no exception. Despite what felt like an insurmountable number of tasks to complete before getting out the door, I manage to park my car outside the school with a comfortable five minutes left until the early bell rings. It’s only a two-minute drive from our house to Bobby’s school, which is why school bus service is not provided. Potentially, it is walkable. But we never manage to walk it.

Before I’ve even locked the door to my white SUV, I hear Bobby scream, “Leo!” And then he propels himself in the direction of his best friend.

I have to appreciate Bobby’s enthusiasm. He always seems so excited to see Leo, even though they see each other essentially every single day. I can barely manage a smile for my own best friend, Julie, who is chatting with some other women as they wait for the bell to ring.

Julie used to be a lawyer before she gave up her job and moved to Long Island, and she still dresses the part. She’s wearing a pristine white blouse and a gray pencil skirt. Her hair is swept back from her face in an elaborate twist—she has the sort of classic beauty where she will look beautiful even when she’s eighty. I had her on my show a couple of times demonstrating an upscale recipe, and those episodes always get lots of views.

Julie took over the reins as president of the PTA this year, and by all accounts, she’s taking it very seriously. I’ve already received at least a dozen emails from her about it and we’ve yet to have our first meeting. I’m sure she’ll do an amazing job. She’s a great leader. I’m so lucky she’s my best friend.

As I get closer, I notice Julie is chatting with Kathy Tanner. I freeze in my tracks. Kathy doesn’t like me, for some reason. I don’t want to talk to her, but I also don’t want to stand alone. And God forbid I snub Julie. So I’ve got to go over there.

“April.” Julie smiles at me. “We were worried… it isn’t like you to be so late.”

“Yes, well… Bobby was so slow in the morning. You know what I mean.”

I don’t want to tell these two women about the slew of horrible comments on my latest video. They would just laugh it off. You have to have thick skin if you’re going to be on the Internet, April. But it isn’t just about having thick skin. There was something incredibly disturbing about that final comment. Like it could have come from someone close to me.

April’s secret is that she is a terrible cook and a worse person. Trust me—I know.

Who would write something like that?

“Bella makes her own breakfast every morning and is ready to go when I get downstairs,” Kathy volunteers. “She is such an angel.”

“Mmm,” I say. “Bobby isn’t quite there, I guess.”

“Good thing your show is about cooking secrets and not child behavior secrets!” Kathy laughs.

I shoot Kathy a look. She smiles at me, but her eyes are cold. If I ever call her on her nonstop jabs, she insists she’s just teasing me and I’m too sensitive. It’s exhausting.

Is it possible Kathy could have been the one who left those nasty comments? I wouldn’t put it past her.

“By the way,” Julie says, “we wanted to get your opinion on something, April. Don’t you think there should be a dress code for drop off and pick up?”

Kathy nods eagerly. “Look at all these mothers standing around in pajamas! It’s such a disgrace. Honestly, it’s embarrassing.”

I look around at the scattered mothers gathered around the school entrance for drop off. I do see one woman carrying an infant in her arms and a toddler is attached to her left hand, and she does appear to be wearing pajama pants and slippers.

I look down at my own outfit. Yoga pants. A tank top. A hoodie sweatshirt. Ballet flats again. I wonder if they’re trying to tell me something.

“I mean,” Julie goes on, “it’s a terrible example for the children. We wouldn’t allow them to go to school in pajamas, would we?”

“No,” I say. “Well, except on pajama day.”

“I’m going to bring it up at the PTA meeting tomorrow,” Julie says. “Would you add that to the agenda, April? You’re coming, right?”

Before I can answer in the affirmative, the early bell sounds off. The kids all pile into the front entrance. I wave to Bobby, but I’m not sure he notices. When he’s around his friends, I might as well not exist.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Maria Cooper and her son Owen hurrying toward the entrance. After Maria shared her concerns about Owen not having any friends at the new school, I had a talk with Bobby about being kind to him. Hopefully, Bobby will listen. Sometimes he does things without thinking and he’s slow as molasses in the morning, but my son has a good heart.