THE HALF-TRUTH
BY
CLAIRE SVENDSEN
Copyright © 2013 Claire Svendsen
All rights reserved
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, places or events is purely coincidental.
PROLOGUE
The day was sunny, in a way that good memories usually are. There was a picnic and food, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for us and ham and cheese for Mom and Dad. It wasn’t much, just a blanket on the fresh grass and the sound of our laughter as it filled the air. The sun bright but shade cool as we lay on our backs and picked animal shapes out of the clouds. There were tickle fights and jokes told before the lazy post lunch haze took over and bored, we wandered away.
It’s the last time I truly remember being happy. A place I can only go back to in my dreams. I clutch at it with shaking hands as it slips through my fingers, quicksand that always falls away as soon as I wake.
If I could I would live in that dream forever, at the happy picnic. But there is a part of me that knows the picnic was the catalyst. It was the beginning of something very bad. A bright light shining strong before total darkness and I hold onto it because without the light, I won’t see the lie anymore. I’ll see the truth and deep down I know that it will break me.
1.
“Do you like it?”
Noah stands back and examines his finished product proudly. He’s been working on the nursery all week and I’ve been banned from coming anywhere near. It’s been awful, hearing noises and not being able to peek but I’ve been good despite the baby’s protests.
“It’s so cool!” I say. “I can’t believe you did all this.”
“All the other babies will be jealous of our little Julia.”
He laughs and grabs me, placing his hands on my growing belly. In response she kicks hard.
“Ouch. Cut it out,” I tell her.
“She’s just excited, that’s all.”
Noah pulls me into him and plants soft kisses on my lips. I inhale his musky scent as he wraps his arms around me. His arms still the only place I really feel safe. The baby kicks against him. I know she isn’t happy about the nursery. She just likes to hurt me. Noah’s been so excited about the whole thing that I haven’t been able to tell him the truth. But I can’t sleep, I barely eat and in six months I’ll give birth to something I pray every night won’t be a monster.
“Do you like the color?” Noah steps back to look at the walls.
“It’s perfect. Honestly. I love it.”
Noah has painted the nursery a soft blue but spreading up out of the floor he’s brought to life these amazing trees. An enchanted brush stroke forest full of tiny animals hiding in the branches. Giant colorful birds swoop and circle above them, looking down with wings spread.
“It’s so real,” I whisper, reaching out to touch it.
As my fingers graze the painted leaves I feel it happening. Texture beneath my hand, the hard wood of a hidden branch. The warm rush of a gentle breeze. I pull my hand back quickly.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
But it’s not the first time this has happened. Fantasy blending with reality. Since the baby, it’s happened more and more. Puddles reflecting the sky that I could jump and splash in if I wanted to. Paintings that come to life when I touch them. It’s Julia, working her cruel magic from inside me and the bigger she grows, the stronger she gets.
“I’m just tired. I think I’ll lie down for a while.”
“You should,” he says. “You look exhausted. I’ll make you some tea.”
He kisses me again and leaves the room. I linger, looking at the beautiful world he’s created for our daughter.
“I’m not going to let you hurt him,” I whisper, pressing my hand hard against her so she knows I mean it.
She kicks back in retaliation. I know she’s not going to listen to a word I say.
2.
The early morning sun peeks weakly over the horizon as I get in my car. I wave goodbye to Noah who’s standing in the window with a mug of steaming coffee, smiling and blowing kisses. My own coffee is beside me in the cup with the yellow smiley face. He makes it for me every morning and I don’t have the heart to tell him the baby won’t let me drink it. One sip and I’ll spend the whole morning vomiting into the toilet. Not exactly a productive way to start the day.
It only takes ten minutes to drive to the college, which is why Noah lets me go. I know he really wants me at home where he can keep an eye on me but I can’t take being in the house day after day. Watching the pile of baby clothes and toys grow. It’s too much.
I pull up next to a battered blue car. The girl leaning against it looks bored. She’s twirling a braid between her fingers and staring off into space. No matter what I do, I can’t get her to ditch those stupid braids.
“You got my coffee?” she says.
“Don’t I always?”
I give it to her and she drapes a hand across my shoulder.
“And how is the evil one this morning?”
“So far so good. I think she’s sleeping.”
“Maybe she’s dead.”
“Hey,” I elbow her in the ribs. “That’s not nice.”
But I can’t deny that sometimes I’ve wished the same. Norma smiles apologetically at me. She knows more than anyone what I’ve been through. After all, she went through most of it with me. You see before Julia was a baby growing inside me, she was a ghost who tried to kill me and before that she was my twin sister.
“After the summer of hell?” she pauses to sip her coffee. “She owes me.”
“She owes all of us,” I say quietly. “But I don’t think that’s quite what she has in mind.”
Too early for class, we sit on a bench in the sun. I close my eyes and feel the warmth on my skin. Even with the horrible hand I’ve been dealt, it feels good to be alive. I have someone who loves me. I couldn’t say that before.
Norma finishes the coffee and puts it down with an exaggerated sigh.
“What?” I ask, even though I know what she’s going to say.
“You didn’t tell him yet did you.” She crosses her arms, making a statement not a question.
“I can’t, he’s so happy. You should see the nursery. It’s so cute.”
“No. Don’t start that again. You know it’s not cute at all. None of this is and you have to tell him.”
“I did. I tried to tell him but the words wouldn’t come out.”
I lean my head on Norma’s broad shoulder, wishing things were simpler.
“Well, what are you going to do if the baby comes out with horns and a pitchfork?”
“Shut up. You’ve seen the sonograms. You know she’s normal, at least on the outside.”
Norma takes my hand. Her large fingers wrap around mine and squeeze tight.
“You know I love you. And I’d do anything for you. I’ll support you whatever you decide,” she looks at me sadly. “But I still think you should have got rid of it.”
“I know,” I put my hand on my belly. “But I couldn’t.”
3.
It was three weeks after I found out I was pregnant that the trouble started. The morning sickness, only it wasn’t just in the morning, it was all the time. I couldn’t keep anything down and grew weaker by the day. I
couldn’t sleep and at night a searing pain would spread up from my belly and shoot electric shocks into my brain. I felt like I was losing my mind. I’d sneak from the bed leaving Noah fast asleep. Then lock myself in the bathroom where I’d curl up in a ball and stuff a sock into my mouth so I could scream the pain out without waking him. Finally, in desperation, I called Norma to come and get me.
“Where are we going?” she asked as I got into her car.
“To get an abortion.”
She looked at me and didn’t judge. The girl who was once born a boy, now my best friend because she’s always accepted me for who I am.
“Okay then,” she said and started to drive.
She had to pull over five times so I could throw up on the way to the clinic and when we got there I sat in the car, unable to move. Norma took my hand in hers and held on tight but never said a word. Eventually I started to cry. It wasn’t just the fact that the baby was killing me. It was the thought that even though I knew without a shadow of a doubt she was my dead sister, I also knew Noah was not her real father. Part of her was all I had left of Mark.
“What if she looks like him?” I sobbed.
I saw his face in my dreams. His hands grazed across my naked flesh, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Sometimes I’d wake with my hands exploring Noah’s flesh instead and he would stir with a smile and then slip inside me, mistaking my arousal for wanting him. And it’s not that I don’t love Noah, I do. But Mark stole a piece of my heart I’ll never get back.
“What if she looks nothing like him?” Norma said. “What if she looks exactly like you? Like your twin? I mean sure, she’s going to be all sweet and cute when she’s a baby but what’s going to happen when she’s ten or twelve? When she’s the same age that Julia buried your pets alive or planned to kill your whole family? What then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she isn’t Julia. Maybe she’s just normal.”
But I knew even then, it was a lie. Julia clawed her way inside me while I lay drowning in that lake and in nine months’ time, she’ll claw her way back out. Reborn.
I sat in the car for an hour and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I got out and walked across the parking lot. I was going to do it. I’d made up my mind. Mark’s baby or not this was Julia we were talking about. The Julia who would stop at nothing to kill me, Noah and anyone else who got in her way when she was old enough. This wasn’t an easy choice but it was the only one I had left.
But as my hand reached for the door and I pulled the glass towards me, I saw him. Not a fleeting glance but I actually saw him, walking on the other side of the road. Norma said afterward that I couldn't really be sure it was him and it was impossible anyway because Mark was dead. But I know what I saw and felt. My heart skipped a beat and then started pumping wildly. The baby moved for the first time that morning. She pushed gently against me but this time not in an aggressive, angry way. Instead it was sweet and loving. For the first time I felt what a normal mother should feel, happy about the baby inside her.
I spun around, ready to chase down the man I loved more than anything but he was gone. I ran across the parking lot anyway, Norma shouting after me as I dashed into the road. Tires squealed and cars honked their horns but I didn't care. I had to stop him before it was too late. But as I stood on the sidewalk and watched the people swarm around me, I knew his blond head wasn't there. I ran up and down the street, desperately grabbing anyone who showed any resemblance to Mark and in the end Norma had to physically drag me back to the car.
I didn't go back to the clinic. It was a sign.
4.
Since the day at the abortion clinic, I've been looking for Mark everywhere. Norma doesn't know and Noah definitely doesn’t know but the baby knows. When I'm out in a crowd, searching for his crooked smile or at home on the computer searching for his name, I feel warmth spreading out from my belly. It makes up for all the times she makes me want to stab a knitting needle into my stomach. It's almost like she wants me to find him.
I spend the morning in sculpting class. It's the one place I actually forget I’m pregnant. To be honest sculpting was never my thing, it was Mark's. The night he sculpted the statue of my naked body was the most erotically thrilling moment of my life. When the college burned down and we only just escaped with our lives, we were given full scholarships to any college of our choosing. Norma and I picked the same, West Bloom Art and Technical. It's not the fanciest place in the world but here no one knows our names or any of the horrible things that happened to us and that is worth a lot.
I'm working on a tree for the nursery. I didn't know about Noah’s murals when I started, I just figured it would be cute to have in the corner. Hang her toys on. But now the tree has taken on a life of its own, growing bigger and more twisted by the day.
"Where did you say this thing was going again?" Brett asks.
"In my baby's nursery, I think," I say.
"Well, I hope that's a damn big nursery you've got at home."
He smiles and moves on, a middle aged hippie who lives out of his RV on a rented field. But he’s a good teacher, he really knows what he's talking about. I couldn't sculpt shit before I started his class but now I’m making giant trees that actually look real. And he's not cute. Not by any stretch of the imagination which makes Noah happy. Even though he doesn’t know everything, he knows I had a thing for Mark. Sculptors make him nervous.
Lunch is sandwiches out on the grassy knoll, our special spot where no one will bother us. I stretch out on the grass and look up at the sky. Bright blue with white clouds that race along like sailing ships.
"So I suppose you'll want a shower or something?" Norma says.
"A what?" I choke on my bread.
"You know, a party for the baby that you're keeping now. The kind where people buy you lots of crap like diaper bags and changing tables so you don't have to fork out a bunch of cash for stuff you’ll only use for a year."
"No," I say firmly. "Absolutely not. No baby shower."
“Why not? It will be fun. You get to play games like bottle chugging and bobbing for nipples.”
“Oh my God, Norma! It’s a baby shower not a bondage party, besides I said no. Noah doesn’t like charity.”
It’s one of the things I find annoying about him. His southern roots and cowboy logic always getting in the way of things I want to do. It’s also part of why I love him so much but it’s still frustrating. Sometimes with Noah there is no middle ground.
“Everyone has baby showers. It’s not charity.” Norma sounds defeated.
“I know,” I pat her hand sadly. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
But when I get home Noah's truck is sitting in the driveway. I find him slumped over the kitchen table, head buried in his hands. He's never home before me. The construction site always keeps him there until dusk. Something must be wrong.
"What's happened?" I ask, putting a hand on his shoulder.
He bolts away from my touch like I just stabbed him with a knife, turning bleary eyed to face me.
"I lost my job," he says.
"What do you mean, you lost your job?" I slide weakly into a chair.
"I lost it, okay? I got fired."
He gets up, the chair slamming into the floor as it tips over. He goes to the fridge and gets out a beer, popping the top and downing half of it without taking a breath.
"How the hell did you get fired?"
"I don't want to talk about it," he snaps.
I watch him drain the last of the beer and grab another bottle. I don't know this Noah, this man before me. All I’ve ever known from him is love and compassion and caring. He's never raised a finger to hurt me, never even raised his voice at me and now this? It's like he's been abducted by aliens and replaced with a dark Noah, one who wants to hurt me with his words and actions.
"Well we have to talk about it," I say calmly. "Why won't you let me help you?"
"You want to help?" he says, his words already slurring. "Then just leave me the fu
ck alone."
5.
"Leave me the fuck alone? He really said that?"
I'm lying at one end of Norma's couch and she's sprawled at the other, our legs entangled.
"I know. It's not like him. Right?" I say.
I left the house after Noah told me to leave him alone. I didn't really have much choice. Our trailer only has two bedrooms and one is already set up with the crib. We found our couch by the side of the road and the rusty springs don’t bother you that much while watching TV but there was no way I was sleeping on it. Noah had already passed out on the bed so I left and sought refuge with the only friend I had.
"How on earth could he have been fired?" Norma says. "He's the nicest guy I know. And telling you to fuck off? He survived a burning building and jumped into a lake to save you. Don't take this the wrong way but he thinks the sun shines out of your ass. I just don't get what would make him talk to you like that."
"Something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong."
Norma looks at me seriously then points to my belly. "Maybe he found out the truth about that."
"Found out what? That she’s a demon baby? I don't think that's on the medical records," I say.
"Or that he's not the father," she says gently.
"That's not on the medical records either. And besides, I don't know for sure who her father is."
"Don't lie," Norma kicks me gently. "You know exactly who that baby's father is and that's the only reason why you couldn't get rid of it."
"I know. I know," I say.
Tears burn behind my eyes but they don't fall. I can't cry, not anymore. It's like Julia has hardened me somehow. Dried up the emotions I want to feel only I can't.
"He'll come around, don't worry. When he sobers up I'm sure he'll come over here with a box of chocolates and giant bouquet of red roses. He’ll tell you how sorry he is and beg you to come back. It will be disgusting," Norma laughs.
"Yeah. Right," I grin.
The Half-Truth (Drowning Book 2) Page 1