All the Lies We Tell (Quarry Road Book 1)

by Megan Hart

  “How about we pick out some old creature feature, make some popcorn, and spend the day on the couch. We’re not going anywhere, not until the roads are plowed. And there’s not much point in shoveling while it’s still snowing.” He spun her slowly to face him.

  “I’m sure you could make it across the street if you really had to.”

  He smiled. “But I don’t want to.”

  “You sure about that?” She eyed him. “It’s right across the street.”

  He moved closer, one step. “But, all that snow, Alicia. So much snow. It’s really, really deep.”

  “You’re a big, strong man. You lived in Antarctica,” she said, remembering.

  Nikolai shook his head, those gray-green eyes wide and falsely innocent. “We didn’t go outside.”

  “You didn’t—” He was on her then, his arms around her, and she let him kiss her. “You’re so full of bull, Nikolai. You know that?”

  “I’ve heard that once or twice.” He nibbled at her jaw and tickled her sides until she squealed and tried to get away, only to have him draw her back close to him. He looked into her eyes. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do and no place I’d rather be than on that couch with you today. Okay?”

  She nodded after a second or so. She could wait for him to give her pretty words, but how could she really expect them? She knew him—didn’t she?—even after all these years. Some things about him had changed, but not all things.

  “Fine, but I get to pick the movie,” she said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Then

  There were no days when Alicia woke up without remembering what happened, but there had to be one someday, right? One morning when she would open her eyes without looking at her sister’s empty bed and being hit all over again with the reminder that Jennilynn was not out late. Jennilynn was never coming home.

  Her mother waited barely a week after the funeral before she came in the room with a box of plastic garbage bags and started throwing things away. Clothes, makeup, sheets, old stuffed animals. She tore down the posters of Jennilynn’s favorite bands and cleared out the closet. There were things Alicia would’ve kept, not because she’d coveted her sister’s faded jeans or her Doc Martens, though she always had. She would’ve clung to them as a way of making herself feel as though Jennilynn wasn’t totally gone.

  The house was quiet in the gray dawn, and Alicia could no longer sleep. She listened for the sounds of her parents getting up, moving around. Getting ready for work. Moving forward with their lives one day at a time in a way that seemed impossible to her, even now, almost a year later. She’d lost a sister, but they’d lost their daughter, and she couldn’t begin to imagine how they could function. All she knew was that they seemed to.

  All she knew was that nobody talked about Jennilynn at all.

  They took down the photos that hung in the hallway. The framed school pictures lined up on top of the cabinets. The magnetic cheerleading-team photos on the fridge. There were empty spaces where the pictures used to hang. Dust outlines on the walls. If something happened to her, Alicia thought, they would erase her just as easily as they’d done to Jennilynn.

  If she hadn’t died, Jennilynn would still be gone. Off to college, home only for holidays and vacations. Her seat at the table would still be empty. Her side of the room, relentlessly clean. The bathroom, always free.

  It was Alicia’s turn to be the one to go away, but how could she? She was the only one left. If Jennilynn hadn’t died, if she’d just gone off to college, and it was now Alicia’s turn, it would’ve been the natural order of things, but everything was a mess and had been for a year, so even though the college acceptance letters had been piling up, the scholarship awards coming in one by one, there was no way Alicia could possibly leave home.

  “It wasn’t until much later—recently, even—that I figured out a few things,” Alicia said. “First, that my parents had not gotten over losing Jenni. They just got through it. I hadn’t realized that was a thing, you know? That sometimes you don’t get over something. You just get through it. And second, that my decision to stay home and go to business college instead of leaving them made no difference, in the end. They didn’t need me to stay for them. They were ready for me to leave, to get on to the next phase of their lives as parents of children who’d grown up. And third, that they did me no favors by not insisting I go away to school, get a four-year degree. I just think they were so numbed by what had happened, so focused on their grief, that even though it was a year later, they couldn’t really make the right choices. And I . . . didn’t want to go away. I’ve held on to the idea for a long time that somehow I wasn’t able to go, but the truth is, I made my choices back then because it was easier to stay than try to figure out what I wanted to be. So here I am.”

  Nikolai tucked his arm behind his head as he stretched out his legs to prop his feet on the coffee table. “Is that such a bad thing? Being here?”

  “You tell me.” She pulled the crocheted afghan over her knees, against the house’s chill. “You’re the one who couldn’t wait to get away from here. You were out of here right after you graduated, and you never came back.”

  “Of course I came back. I’m back right now.”

  She shrugged. “Not really. Not without waiting every second to leave again.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?” He twisted to look at her, the movie they’d put on about half an hour ago forgotten.

  “Isn’t it?” Alicia shrugged again.

  Nikolai frowned. “I’m not going anywhere right now.”

  “Right.” She looked toward the television but couldn’t remember what they were even watching. “What happened? I missed something.”

  “We don’t have to watch this.” He pressed the remote to pause the movie.

  She wanted to curl up against him with her head on his chest and listen to the sound of his heart beating. She wanted to cover them both with this ugly blanket and keep the world away. She did not want him to leave—that was the stupid truth of everything—and since there was no way she was going to ask him to stay, all she could do was bite her tongue until the pain was enough to choke her into silence.

  “Again, already?” She made her tone light. Teasing. “You’re going to wear me out.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  She frowned, looking at him. “Oh. You don’t want to?”

  “I always want to,” Nikolai said. “That’s not it.”

  “So, what, then?” This tasted like the beginning of an argument, a flavor Alicia knew well when talking with Nikolai.

  “Do you really feel like I’m just waiting to leave?”

  She withdrew, putting some space between them. “Yes. I do.”

  “Alicia . . .”

  “Aren’t you?” she asked, not sure what she expected him to say. Or even what she wanted him to say. “Just hanging around here counting the days until you’re off to someplace far more exciting?”

  She watched his expression and waited for him to answer, but he didn’t.

  “It’s what we knew from the beginning. It’s the only reason why we’re doing any of this at all,” she added quietly. “Isn’t it?”

  Nikolai frowned, then scrubbed a hand across the top of his head. “Yeah. It’s what we agreed on. For sure.”

  There was a certain relief in hearing him say it, so she didn’t have to wonder anymore. “So . . . when?”

  “I haven’t decided. There’s a lot to do around the house. And something’s up with Galina. I’m not sure what.”

  “So you’re staying until you’re finished with the house repairs. For your mom.” She couldn’t fault him for that. Not really. It wasn’t the reason she wanted to hear, though.

  Nikolai didn’t answer at first. “You know how she is. She could decide tomorrow that she doesn’t want to bother with anything new, or that she’s going to head back to South Carolina. Or Arkansas, or, hell, the moon for all I know.”

 
“Gee, I wonder where you get it, then.” She meant to sound light and teasing but failed. She cleared her throat and took up the remote to start the movie again.

  When he stretched an arm out along the back of the couch, she let him pull her closer. When she put her head on his shoulder and he stroked his hand along her hair, she let him do that, too. When he turned to tip her face to his to kiss her, she gave him her mouth as eagerly as she ever had, without hesitation or reservation, because this time could be the last, and she knew it the way she’d known it every other time he’d ever kissed her.

  “You don’t have to stay here, you know.” Nikolai traced her bottom lip with his finger.

  She pulled away from the tickling touch, irritated. “Sure. I know. I just have a business to run and debt to handle. And besides, where would I go, and what would I do?”

  “Anything you wanted. Anywhere you wanted. You could work on a cruise ship,” he said. “You could teach English in China.”

  Alicia gave him a look.

  “You could do anything you wanted,” he repeated.

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  Nikolai smiled and shrugged. “It can be, if you want it to be.”

  “I can’t just up and leave. I have the business. I have responsibilities.” She thought of the offer Theresa had made her. How tempting it would be to take it. How free she would be to do exactly what Niko was describing. She almost told him about it but at the last minute held her tongue, wanting him to ask her to go with him. To be with him. To give her that choice, at least. “I lost my chance for those options.”

  “There are always options, Alicia.”

  His phone buzzed. Alicia took the chance to get up and use the bathroom while he talked. By the time she got back, Nikolai was off the couch.

  “Galina got a ride home.”

  “How’d she manage that?” Alicia went to the window to look out. No sign of the street being plowed, though the snow at least had stopped. She wasn’t looking forward to hauling out the snowblower.

  “Her ‘friend’ has a four-wheel drive.” Nikolai made air quotes. “Maybe he got so sick of her that he had to get her out of his house.”

  Alicia feigned a disapproving look. “Maybe she wanted to get home, make sure you’re okay.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. She’s over there now and wanted to know where I was. I didn’t tell her I’ve been here for the past two days.”

  “Of course not.” Alicia took off the afghan and folded it over the back of the couch. “You should get home.”

  “Yeah.” He stretched. Cracked his neck in the way that made her cringe and wince, then laughed when he saw her. “Sorry.”

  There was more to be said in that moment, but she wasn’t about to start up that conversation now. She’d left it open for him to ask her to go with him, and he had not. She wasn’t going to pursue it. She walked him to the front door. They didn’t kiss there, suddenly awkward as though Galina could see them from all the way across the street, through a closed door.

  “Thanks for putting up with me while we were snowed in,” Nikolai said.

  She smiled a little. “You can pay me back by fixing my faucet.”

  “Right. The faucet.” He made no move to leave. His phone buzzed again with a text.

  “You should go.”

  “This was fun,” Nikolai said.

  Fun.

  Nothing more than that. Fun. Casual. Fleeting. Not meant to last.

  “It always is, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Always.”

  “How will you feel this time,” she said suddenly, no longer able to hold it back, “when you leave?”

  Something in his eyes gave her hope, for the barest second. A faint spark. The barest twist of a smile. At the last second, everything went blank, and he cut his gaze from hers.

  “I don’t know,” Nikolai said.

  A thin and fruitless fury overtook her. “Can’t you even just once tell me how you feel? Can’t you even tell me you’ll miss me?”

  “I will. I will miss you.”

  She nodded stiffly, not satisfied, not with having to put the words in his mouth. Not surprised, after all this time and knowing him so well, but what had she expected? What was it, exactly, that she even wanted him to say or do that would make her happy? There was probably nothing, she thought as she searched his expression for something, anything at all that would give her reason not to close the door behind him and never open it for him again.

  She stepped aside to let him pass and held the door open. She cleared her throat. In the absence of any further words from him, the sound of it was very loud. “Good.”

  Nikolai paused to brush a kiss over her lips as he moved past her. The snow came up to his knees, and it took him a long time to push through it, across the yard and the street, marked by the path of the truck that had brought Galina home. Alicia watched, shivering in the chilly air, until he made it all the way to his house. He didn’t look back at her before he went inside his own front door, but then she supposed he didn’t need to do that, either.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Being snowbound hadn’t bothered Galina at all. Since getting home yesterday, she’d been baking. Piles of cookies. Bread. A pie. It hadn’t seemed to matter that the freezer, both in the kitchen and the ancient chest unit in the basement, were both still stuffed to overflowing with leftovers from the generosity of the neighbors after Babulya’s death. She’d covered all the kitchen countertops with pans and plates and platters.

  “What are you going to do with all of this?” Niko set the toolbox on the table, which so far remained free of the burden of baked goods.

  “Feed you with it.” She leaned against the countertop with one arm crossed over her belly to cup a hand beneath her elbow, the posture lacking only a cigarette that she clearly was missing.

  Niko laughed as he sorted through the mishmash of tools in the box, looking for a wrench and some plumber’s tape. He’d been trying to sort the plethora of junk from the basement workbench, pulling out what he needed.

  “I can’t possibly even make a dent in that.”

  “Fine. You don’t want this? I’ll donate it to the home.”

  He glanced up at the flat tone of her voice. “Do they let the residents eat stuff like that?”

  “The nurses and the staff will eat it. They’ll appreciate it, if you won’t.” Galina waved her fingers in front of her face. “Where are you off to, Kolya, with all of those tools?”

  “I’m going over to Alicia’s to fix her kitchen faucet.” He held up the wrench.

  Galina snorted lightly. “How nice of you. Will she pay you?”

  “Sure, the same rate I’ve been charging you.” He meant to tease her, but his mother didn’t smile.

  “I’m your mother. I feed you. Give you a roof over your head. What I ask of you shouldn’t be anything to complain about, especially since it’s all going to benefit you in the end.”

  Niko turned his attention back to the toolbox, feeling his shoulders hunch and forcing himself to straighten. Here it came. The sour comments. Maybe the rage, if he couldn’t defuse it.

  “Not complaining, Mom. I’m happy to help out around the house.”

  She muttered a reply that he didn’t catch, then said, louder, “Where is your brother?”

  “He’s in Jamaica.” Niko shut the lid of the toolbox with a click. “Remember? He’ll be back at the end of the week. He’s leading a dive trip.”

  Galina frowned. “I like it when you boys are home, where I can keep an eye on you. So I don’t have to worry about you.”

  “You don’t have to worry about us. We’re grown men.”

  She hacked out one of her standard harsh cackles. “You think that means I don’t have to worry about you? Mothers never stop worrying. Where you are, what you’re doing, if you’re happy, if you’re going to ever be happy . . .”

  With an inward sigh, Niko went to her and took her by the shoulders. “I’m just goin
g across the street to fix a faucet. Ilya will be back in a few days, after his trip. We’re okay, Mom.”

  Galina frowned. “You and your brother are not very okay, I don’t think. What did I do wrong, Kolya? Was I really so bad of a mother?”

  The words, barbed, hooked him in a tender spot and stung. He knew there’d be no sufficient answer for her. Nothing he could say would be good enough.

  “Of course not,” he said.

  She looked at him with narrowed eyes, head tilted. In the past, Galina had often played the martyr. There was something different in her expression this time. A kind of blankness that unsettled him.

  “We all make mistakes. If you ever had children, you’d know. It’s not too late.”

  Niko shook his head. “I already told you that I don’t plan on having kids, Mom.”

  “Well,” Galina said briskly, “I didn’t plan on having any, either, and look what happened.”

  She was also fond of rewriting history, so he shouldn’t be too surprised, but this was the first time he’d ever heard her mention anything like that. Galina’s story about meeting her first husband and starting a family had been mostly consistent through the years. She’d met Steven Stern at the hospital where she’d been working as a registered nurse. He’d been an orderly. They’d fallen in love. Gotten pregnant.

  “Children take so much out of you,” she continued. “You could ask your Babulya about that. What a trial I was as a child. How she told me all the time that she wished upon me the same tribulations I’d put her through.”

  “If children are such a pain in the ass,” he said finally, not pointing out that he couldn’t ask Babulya anything, “why do you keep wishing Ilya and I would have some?”

  Galina smiled. “So I can be the granny who wishes the tribulations you put me through to come back to you through your kids. Of course.”

  He laughed, though it wasn’t that funny. “Well, I don’t think you need to worry about it.”

  “No. Maybe not.” She looked oddly sad and gestured at the baked goods. “I learned to cook, finally. Your Babulya would be proud of that, at least.”