Pen & Ink Writer's Group of Norridge

(Psst!) It's a Golden Secret

Elvira K. Castillo

Several weeks ago, my friend Helen's daughter Tess called to make sure I'd keep the date of June 26th open. The reason -- She was going to give a "surprise" 50th Wedding Anniversary Party for her parents, Helen and Gene Warta.

I've known Helen since 1973 when she accepted a secretarial position at Stewart-Warner Electronics, just one year after I had joined the company. We became instant friends as we were almost the same age (she's one year younger than me), and her daughter and son are one year older and one year younger than my son, Scott. We worked together about 20 years, and shared our life's ups and downs, confiding in each other as we walked the long hallway through the plant to the company cafeteria. We have continued our friendship, and I feel like Scott and I are really part of her family, being invited to many of the family's important celebrations.

Now, back to the "secret" anniversary event. Tess emphasized that she wanted her parents to be completely surprised, so it was imperative to "keep the plan" an absolute secret. Helen and Gene's actual anniversary date is July 4th, so Tess chose a week ahead of this date for the surprise. How was she going to do this? Well, she made up a story about a friend of hers getting married on June 26th and had a fake wedding invitation sent to her parents. Then she told them that the family would be celebrating their 50th Anniversary at Maggiano's in Schaumburg on July 4th.

Keeping all of this a "secret" was quite a challenge, especially since there was another huge secret and surprise in store for Helen and Gene. Tess had planned to take her parents and her brother's family to Hawaii, and planned a renewal of wedding vows in Hawaii on their real wedding date, July 4th. Helen, not knowing this, invited us to attend St. Priscilla's church for a special acknowledgment of their anniversary and she also invited their priest to attend the dinner at Maggiano's, which, of course, would not be happening! Believe me, Tess was very, very busy making phone calls to make sure no one went to St. Priscilla's, etc.

Finally, June 26th arrived, and Scott and I were very excited to be part of this big "secret" surprise. The Anniversary Party was held at the beautiful Ritz Carlton Hotel downtown. It was a large lovely room with windows all along two walls, where you could look out and see Lake Michigan, Navy Pier, and many tall buildings. There were crystal chandeliers everywhere, even in the elevators. Chicago is truly a great city.

After cocktails and several hors d'oeuvres, we all stood on one side of the room, waiting for Helen and Gene's arrival. As they walked in, we shouted, "Surprise, Happy Anniversary," and they were stunned! It was a lovely evening where we learned how Helen and Gene met and about Helen's close relationship with her brothers and sister. It was interesting to learn that Helen originally was interested in writing as a career before becoming a secretary--one thing more we have in common.

When Helen and Gene were given the additional secret surprise of the trip to Hawaii, they were truly overwhelmed and couldn't believe what was happening. I walked over to Helen later and whispered in her ear that I didn't think I'd be attending St. Priscilla's on July 4th. We both laughed and she was still in shock.

We had a delicious meal, served in great style, and then danced the night away to all of Helen and Gene's favorite songs. It couldn't have been a better evening and a well kept "secret" perfectly accomplished and accepted with great gratitude and deep love by Helen and Gene. HAPPY 50TH ANNIVERSARY!


A Secret Between Friends

N. Stewart

Two friends are sitting outside of Starbucks, having a cup early on a pleasant summer day. After taking a sip, Sarah raised her head and directed her eyes at Terri's face, and held the pause without speaking. "You can stare all you want," said Terri, "But I won't tell you."

"Oh? Since when? Come on, please," pleaded Sarah.

"No, if I did then he would be angry, really angry."

"No, he won't."

"Yes, he will."

"No, he won't. Come on. Tell me."

"This isn't getting us any where. I'm not telling. Let's change the subject."

"I don't see why you can't tell. I'm your best friend, your BFF as it were, aren't I? I tell you everything."

"Everything? I doubt that! No one tells everything. There are just some things that you don't want any one to know -- ever, and I'm not telling you this. It's a secret."

"Well, I tell you almost everything then. Look, I told you about your anniversary present from Jake, didn't I? At least you were prepared ahead of time and didn't look all frumpy. You had time to buy all those new clothes and to look gorgeous."

Terri said, "I still can't tell you. It would spoil the surp...see what you almost made me do."

"Aha, you were going to say a surprise. A surprise party...for my birthday? It's a big one comin' up. That's it, isn't it? When's the party? I'll need a new outfit and I'll need to get my hair and nails done."

Terri's face turned many shades of red. "There's no party. I wasn't going to say surprise."

"Yes, you were," Sarah taunted.

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you were."

"Forget it. It's a secret. We could sit here all day long, and you can ask all the questions you want, and you're still not going to get it out of me."

Sarah heard the words as they circled around in her mind saying; Oh, but I will. You're easy.

Terri continued on, "Please stop trying. I'm not telling."

As a sheepish grin stated to cross her face and sparkles lit up her eyes, Sarah said, "Ok. How 'bout I get us each another cup and we stay for a while longer? It's such a beautiful day."


It's a Secret

Jamey Damert

The subject of this month's assignment is "It's a secret," which is fine, I guess. However, on account of the nature of the topic, it behooves me not to write the story, for then the secret will no longer be a secret and the entire exercise will be a sham and a lie. I cannot countenance this, of course, being a person with an upright nature in a downright sort of way.


A Promise is a Promise

J. P. Scianna

Tomorrow was to be my first day of school. At five years of age it was a frightening thought. Frightening, that is until my mother had a talk with me. She called our talks a 'conference.' Some times these talks were of trivial things. Some times of a more serious nature. Mostly they were 'confidential.' She had a way of talking to me and not at me.

This particular day it was a 'just between you and me' talk. Even though it was over fifty years ago, I still remember every word as if it were yesterday. I didn't know it then, but the words of encouragement and advice were to influence my life's choices and decisions. Many times from childhood, through the teen years, to adulthood and even now in my senior years, I recall our talk. When difficulties arose I drew upon the wisdom of her words.

I have often been asked why I made this or that decision. Was I to answer, 'because my mother told me so?' To this day, I have kept my promise not to reveal what she said to me during our 'conference.'

What were these words that I have endeavored to live by, you ask? What kind of encouragement? What sort of advice? I promised long ago not to tell. Since I have kept my promise throughout the years and see no reason why I should break it now, these words shall remain a secret.


Too Much Information

Phyllis Babbs

When I was young and people talked about reincarnation, my standard line was I would be coming back as a tall, thin, sexy blond. They were the ones wearing designer clothes, in those days the fur coats, and driving flashy cars. I never encountered one of them wearing last year's fashion, pushing a grocery cart or making an emergency trip to the Laundromat.

I have now lived long enough to realize those same blonds will sag and spread the same as the general population, complete with wrinkles and age spots.

At this point in my life, if I were to have a discussion about reincarnation, I would say that I am coming back as a gossip. Nobody has long conversations with gossips for fear of being misquoted or heaven forbid being quoted accurately.

For some reason, people tell me things, secrets. I think it all started when I was a child and the question was asked "who took the cookies from the cookie jar?" and I didn't rat anybody out. It grew from there.

The older I got, the more it intensified. My husband came home from work one day to find all the shades down and me in bed. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"

I told him I had to get away from everybody for awhile. I had heard way too many stories that started with "I know you won't repeat what I'm about to tell you" -- and then out would flow the story, the secret. I knew so many things, I was afraid to talk for fear of what I might say. I feared that if I opened my mouth it would be like opening Pandora's Box. I needed time to collect my thoughts and sort out the information, remembering which secret went with which woman.

In my recent history, when the security guard at the church I attended would lower his voice, I knew I would be hearing things I wished I didn't know. I would mentally put my hands over my ears and chant la, la, la, la to myself.

This secret keeping has become a curse. There are times when I wonder if I should go to my grave with all this secret knowledge or if I should write a book. But I am not famous and the other people are not famous, my "tell all" book would be a failure. So the many secrets will remain in my memory.

But back to reincarnation. If we do come back and you are interested in saying hello, you will easily recognize me. I'll be the one everybody calls "Blabbermouth."


It's a Secret Unless...

David Rumer

Amy and Lil, two high school seniors, were on the corner waiting for the school bus to take them to their northwest neighborhood. Amy said, "Betty has a secret."

"I wonder what it is? She and Jack have been really close lately...I hope they don't have 'the' big secret."

Joan, who just joined them and overheard the conversation, said "It has nothing to do with Jack. Betty's mother called my mother and told her Betty has a small hidden mole. The doctor said they should remove it because later it could become malignant and the surgery would be more complicated. Betty doesn't want to talk about it."

"I don't blame her for that," said Amy. "If that happened to me, I sure wouldn't want to blab it around. Any way, her secret is safe with us; it will be well kept now."

"Yes," said Lil, "unless her mother calls someone else and tells them about it."


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This page was last updated by nes on August 3, 2010
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