Lies and Lullabies

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Lies and Lullabies Page 19

by Sarina Bowen


  She capped her lip gloss and turned around. “I thought you were going to say that the difference was Vivi. That’s my only real hesitation—it’s not just me who could get hurt.”

  “Just be careful.”

  She sighed. “What does that even mean? You and I are the most careful people we know. We also spend a lot of time watching movies on our couch. Coincidence?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, hoping to bail out of this conversation before I put any more feet in my mouth. “It’s really none of my business.”

  Kira’s eyes got wide. “Adam, that’s just code for, ‘I would like to disagree in a humble-sounding way.’”

  “No,” I argued, “I’m just doing everything in a hungover way. God, don’t even listen to me today, okay? I retract everything I said. Can you just do me one small favor?”

  Kira crossed her arms. “Does it involve keeping a closer grip on my panties?”

  “No. Don’t tell anyone about my surgery.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, her expression softening.

  “It’s embarrassing to me.”

  “Fine.”

  I took a step forward and hugged her carefully, mindful of that pink stuff on her lips. “Kiki? Let’s not fight. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. Me too. It will be all right.”

  I sure hoped that was true. And I hoped that “all right” did not mean that Jonas Smith would steal my family away to some mansion on the West Coast. I could only imagine how he lived. Would Vivi go to preschool in a limo? How repulsive.

  My head gave a stab of pain.

  * * *

  In the elevator, I noticed that Jonas had donned sunglasses and a baseball cap. And when we reached the hotel restaurant in the lobby, he asked the hostess for a table in the corner, and then sat himself on the side of the booth that faced away from the other tables. Only then did he remove his shades, tucking them into his shirt pocket.

  It almost worked. But when the young waitress came over to our table, her jaw dropped comically. “Oh my God!” she squealed, putting her hands up to her cheeks. “Will you sign my order pad?”

  Jonas gave her a tight smile. “Only if you can do me a little favor,” he said. He put a finger to his lips.

  The waitress looked to her left and then to her right, like a badly trained secret agent. “Sure.” She thrust her pad and pen into his hands, and he signed. Then she ran off to get the coffee pot.

  “Does that always happen?” Kira asked, her voice wary.

  “Nope,” Jonas said, opening the menu. “But there’s a forty-five-foot purple bus with my face on it right outside. That raises the odds considerably.”

  Good save, I thought, and my estimation of Jonas notched one millimeter higher. At least the guy knew my sister well enough to understand that his fame was a strike against him.

  Vivi opened her menu. She didn’t read yet, but this menu was the kind with pictures in it. “Can I have pancakes?” she asked, hope in her voice. “And strawberries. And bacon.”

  “Let’s see,” Kira said, scanning the offerings. “Those things don’t come all together. It says no substitutions.”

  “Oh, sure they do,” Jonas said as the waitress came back. He raised his coffee mug toward her. “The little skeeter would like pancakes, bacon, and strawberries,” he said. “Can you make that happen?”

  “Sure!” the waitress practically yelled, pouring coffee into our mugs. “Let me get rid of this pot before I take the rest of your order.”

  “Take your time.”

  When she went away, Kira gave him a smile. “I guess you can get whatever you want from Miss Perky.”

  Jonas only shrugged. “The recognition thing is mostly a pain in the backside. So I have to take the good with the bad.”

  The waitress came back with crayons for Vivi. She took our order and scampered off. I had no doubt that all her other tables would suffer while we received excellent service.

  A big shadow fell over our table, and I tried to keep my face impassive when I saw who it was.

  “Morning, all,” Ethan said. “Everybody doing well?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Jonas said.

  “Don’t sass me, boy. I’ve done a lot of work for you already today.” He set two envelopes down on the table along with an itinerary that was marked up in green pen. “I found three dates when you can get away for two days or more. The first one is this Sunday night.”

  Jonas picked up the sheet. “Awesome.”

  “But you have to charter the return trips. Because I will not pace around a venue praying for your flight delays to resolve themselves.”

  “Fine.”

  “Ben has his panties in a wad about the European tour dates. You need to call him from the bus. We have to make our load-in time, because the New York guys are always cranky, and they’ll fine you if we’re late. The bus leaves in…” He looked at his watch. “An hour and fifteen.”

  Jonas flinched. “Okay. Got it.”

  Ethan swept his eyes over the entire table, noting Vivi hard at work with her crayons. Then he ducked his big body down quickly and kissed me on the neck, before turning around and walking away.

  As I watched, Kira’s eyes bugged out of her head. But Jonas only snickered into his coffee cup.

  “Interesting,” my sister squeaked.

  I just shrugged, my face burning.

  “So…” Jonas cleared his throat. “Can we talk about money for a second? I know it’s not your favorite topic.”

  “Now is not a great time,” Kira said quietly, tipping her chin to indicate that they shouldn’t talk money in front of Vivi, even if she was busy with her crayons.

  “I can help with that,” I offered. Kira wouldn’t like this maneuver, but I didn’t want her to duck the money discussion forever. “Hey, Vivster?” My niece looked up. “Want to see Elmo on my phone?” Vivi gave a squeal of happiness as I pulled up the video I had squirreled away for just such emergencies. I dug my earphones out of my pocket and handed them to Vivi.

  “Really, Adam?” Kira asked.

  “Emergencies only,” I said, handing the phone to Vivi, who inserted the ear buds with more familiarity than was optimal. “Okay.” I nodded at Jonas. “You have six minutes.”

  “That will do.” Jonas picked up one envelope and passed it to Kira.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Four years of back child support.”

  With a wary glance at him, she opened the envelope. Her eyes grew large when she looked inside. “Jeez! That’s almost a hundred thousand dollars! I can’t—”

  “Take the money, Kira,” Jonas pressed. “It’s yours. In fact, your lawyer here will probably explain to you that this is just the state’s figure. A judge might give you a lot more.”

  “Dude,” I objected. “Your new lawyer would piss himself to hear you say that. In fact, what lawyer would let you write that check without a paternity test? I can’t believe he’d do that.”

  Jonas laughed. “He hated the idea. He might even regret that you referred me to him. But I don’t need a paternity test. I don’t mean to brag, but look at her.”

  “The eyes,” I admitted. “It’s uncanny.”

  “She has my hands,” Jonas whispered, his voice raw. “Guitar fingers. It’s the craziest thing I ever saw.”

  “Here,” Kira said, thrusting the envelope toward me. “This money really belongs to you.”

  “Wait,” Jonas said. “I thought you might do that. So I did this.” He picked up the second envelope and handed it to me.

  The hair stood up on the back of my neck. “What?”

  “I asked Ethan to write the check twice.”

  “Damn.” I just stared at the envelope in my hand. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I wanted to. Adam, thank you for raising my kid for four years.”

  I didn’t know what to say. And what’s worse, I didn’t like how suspicious it made me feel. On the one hand, it was an incredibly generous offering.
Jonas was saying, not in so many words, that my care was valuable.

  But I also felt as if Jonas might be trying to buy me off. And I was not for sale.

  “I don’t think I can cash this,” I admitted even as I privately recalculated my law school loans down to zero.

  “Just consider it,” Jonas said, with a nudge to the hand that held my check. “If it really makes you that uncomfortable, put it in a college fund for Vivi.”

  The perky waitress chose that moment to arrive with our plates. Vivi was still staring at the video on my phone, and ignoring her breakfast plate. So I cut a bite of Vivi’s pancakes with her fork, then held it up to her mouth, which opened like a little bird’s.

  “Thank you,” Kira said quietly after the waitress had left. “I should use this money to finish my degree next semester. If I don’t have to work for minimum wage in that library, it won’t take me so long to graduate and get a better paying job.”

  At that, Jonas raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You use it however makes sense to you,” he said. “That’s just what I owe you for past years. We can work out the details going forward whenever you’re ready.”

  I took a bite of my omelet and tried to squash my uncharitable thoughts. It had been a while since I’d experienced this kind of big-brother angst. And I didn’t know how to make it go away.

  Taking a strawberry from Vivi’s plate, I put it in her hand. Then I watched as Vivi slowly raised her hand to her mouth, eating the berry while staring at the tiny screen.

  “She’s really anesthetized by that thing,” Jonas said.

  “Yeah. Elmo is more effective than morphine.” I watched Jonas watching Vivi. And the man’s eyes were soft, his expression full of wonder and quiet joy. One of his arms was looped around Kira, holding her in a casual, comfortable way. The way that Kira deserved to be held.

  Well, fuck. Either the guy was exactly what Kira and Vivi needed, or he was a slick devil who would break both their hearts.

  I fed Vivi another bite of pancakes, and tried to keep an open mind. Not that it was easy for a guy with cancer in one of his nuts and a once-a-year hangover.

  I picked up my mug and took another hit of that life-giving force known as coffee. Maybe that would help. It would have to.

  Nineteen

  Kira

  Back in the hotel room, I had only a couple of minutes to throw our things into the duffel bag. “Where is Purple Kitty?”

  “Here!” Vivi yelled, running over to me.

  I tucked the stuffy into my bag and then looked around to make sure that we hadn’t left anything else behind. Purple cat? Check. Toothbrushes? Check. Envelope with a hundred grand inside? Check.

  “I’m taking Vivi down with me to get the car,” Adam said, snapping off the TV. “Can we meet you out front?”

  My brother seemed to be trying to give me a moment alone with Jonas. That was nice of him. “All right. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Come on, princess. Say goodbye to your…” He stopped short of finishing that sentence. I wasn’t the only one who found the transition strange.

  “Bye, Daddy!” Vivi said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

  Jonas jogged across the stupidly large suite and scooped her up. “Bye, Vivi. I’ll see you soon.”

  “When?” she asked.

  “Well, your mom and I have to figure that out.” He set her down, pulling the itinerary out of his back pocket. “Looks like the first opportunity is in just five days. What are you all doing on Monday?”

  I glanced at Adam, who was standing by the door. His surgery wasn’t scheduled yet, and wouldn’t be until later today or tomorrow. “Can we talk tomorrow?” I asked Jonas.

  “Sure.” He put a hand on Vivi’s head and sifted through her curls one more time. Then he bent over and kissed her head. “Bye, baby girl,” he said, his voice thick.

  “Bye, my daddy.”

  Vivi followed Adam out of the room, leaving Jonas in a crouch on the floor. When the door clicked shut, Jonas hung his head. “Shit.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “How do people do this?”

  “Do what?” I zipped my duffel closed.

  “Leave.” He got to his feet and disappeared into the other room.

  He seemed to need a moment to himself, so I just let him go. A minute later, I heard him arguing with someone on the phone. “Ben, I said we’d talk about this later. I’m going to call you from the bus in an hour, okay?” He paused. “No. No more dates in Europe at all, and nothing in Asia. I’m taking time off after the North American tour. I’ve got a family crisis, okay? We’ll talk later.” Then Jonas laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong, Ben. I actually do have a family. Got to go! Ethan’s waiting for me downstairs.”

  Jonas stuck his head around the door frame. “This is it, Kira. Can you walk me out?”

  “Of course.” I grabbed my bag and tried to look calmer than I felt. Because it was weird. I didn’t know where I stood with this man, and I didn’t know when that might become more clear.

  Jonas took my hand in his as the elevator descended, but neither of us seemed to know what to say. The elevator doors parted at the lobby, and I stepped out, but in the ten minutes since we’d gone upstairs, the lobby had transformed into a madhouse.

  “Fuck,” Jonas whispered under his breath, his hand tightening on mine. Instead of stepping forward, he pulled me back into the elevator. He slapped at a button on the control panel, and the doors began to ease closed again, even as people began to run in our direction.

  It took me a second to figure out that the surging crowd was aimed at Jonas.

  A shriek rose up, and I had a moment of true fear that I couldn’t really explain. Mercifully, the doors closed before any of the people charging our elevator reached it.

  “Fuck!” he repeated. “I’m so sorry.”

  The car descended again. “Where are we going?”

  “There’s always a way out to the back from the basement of a hotel. Always.” The doors opened again into a cement hallway lit by fluorescent lighting. We stepped out, and he looked left and right. “This way.”

  “How do you know?” The only signs read Laundry and Maintenance.

  “The loading dock has to be near the laundry.” He squeezed my hand once. “Stick with me, babe. I know things.” His smile was sad.

  Sure enough, after we walked twenty yards or so, the laundry appeared, and beyond it yawned the open doors of a loading dock. Jonas stopped, pulling me into his arms. “Kira,” he whispered. “I hate leaving you right now.”

  I pulled back far enough to look him in the eye. “You have no choice.”

  He kissed me quickly. “I know. But it feels too much like the last time. One night together and…” He broke off, pinching the skin at the top of his nose. “I need to know when I’m going to see you again. Both of you.”

  “Soon,” I whispered. I reached up to run my fingers along his jaw. “We’ll figure out a date.” He felt so good under my hand. But I understood his emotions. No matter how beautiful our night together had been, walking away made everything feel strange.

  Jonas’s phone began to vibrate in his pocket. He yanked it out and answered it. “Yeah. I’m in the basement, just inside the loading dock. Can you swing by for me? When I see the bus, I’ll come out there.”

  He pocketed his phone and put his hands on my shoulders. “I wish I weren’t touring right now. It’s not always like this.”

  “Isn’t it?” I asked, my heart contracting.

  “No, sweetness.”

  But even as he said it, the bus’s hydraulic brakes shrieked nearby and voices yelled, “It stopped!”

  Beyond the loading dock, the bus doors opened. Ethan appeared, beckoning to Jonas. “Right now, dude. We need to get out of here before…” He pointed toward the alley, where there was the sound of pounding feet.

  Jonas gave me the world’s fastest kiss then ran for the bus. A bunch of fans got there at the s
ame time, and Ethan jumped down to put his big frame between their outstretched hands and Jonas. A second later, Jonas disappeared inside. Ethan hopped back in, and the doors swung shut.

  Disappointed, the fans dissipated, not sparing me a glance.

  The bus pulled away, leaving nothing but a slice of June morning visible through the doors. It was as if Jonas had never been there at all.

  The next week wasn’t easy.

  Connecting with Jonas on the phone proved difficult. When I tried to call, he was usually sleeping, because he kept such late hours on the road. The texts we exchanged were of the sorry-I-missed-you variety.

  And then Adam’s surgery was scheduled, and that became my primary focus. We had only a few days to wait, but they were long ones. My usually upbeat brother became quiet and withdrawn.

  I didn’t know what to do for him, except to keep my unconvincing smile pasted on. Helpless in all the important ways, I did the only thing I could think of. I baked several dozen cookies.

  “These are amazing,” Adam said after eating his fourth one. “But I need you to hide them from me now. I don’t want to get a gut.”

  It was supposed to be a joke, I think, because Adam was thin as a rail. Running half marathons was his only hobby.

  I put the cookies away and tiptoed through the darkened apartment toward my room. Climbing into bed, the words wouldn’t stop rolling around in my brain. Adam has cancer.

  Checking my phone, I saw that Jonas had tried to call me earlier. I listened to the voicemail. “Sweetness—please call me when you can. I should be available after ten. It’s been too many days, and I want to hear your voice.”

  I redialed his number and listened to his phone ring. And ring.

  I was about to give up when he finally answered. “Kira!” In the background, many voices were talking at once. “Wait—let me find a quiet corner.” A moment later, the roar in the background dulled. “There. How are you?”

  “Okay,” I hedged. “It’s been a busy week.”

  “Has it?” he asked, his voice concerned.

 

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