Liar

by Lia Fairchild

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Can we not go tonight? I don’t feel like seeing her.”

  It was a no-brainer for me, but I had to ensure we made the right decision for mother and daughter. So I mustered a weak attempt. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. Plus, that way we won’t be late to Henry’s tonight.”

  The excitement in her voice over my dad caused my eyes to roll. I pushed away from the counter. “I didn’t say for sure we’d go. It’s a school night.” My dad had recently moved from my childhood home into a new house. He’d invited us along with Becca over for dinner to christen the place.

  “Come on. Tomorrow’s Friday anyway.”

  Picturing us around the table like one big happy family put a knot in my stomach. Alyssa must have caught something in my expression because she continued. “I know you guys have issues, but he seems cool…and he brought us food to the hospital.”

  Her naïveté wasn’t her fault. She’d caught a few off-handed comments about my dad, but I hadn’t shared all that had happened with him growing up. I turned away from her to straighten the living room. “Issues is being extremely generous.”

  “At least he stuck around...and he’s here now. That’s more than my old man did.”

  I couldn’t help but think we might have been better off if he had taken off. Grandma had always kept such a tight eye on us. “Come sit down for a minute.”

  We both sat on the couch, and I turned to face her.

  “Things with my dad are…complicated.”

  “Adults always say that.”

  I struggled with how much I really needed to tell her. “I know. The thing is, my dad had a drinking problem when I was a kid. After my mom died, he struggled, and life became too hard for him. He didn’t take care of us like he should have.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” Her sweet eyes turned down; she placed her hand over mine. “I guess we both had crappy upbringings, huh?”

  I nodded and patted her hand. Then she gaped at me with a curious smile.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Well, we have something in common now. Like a kinship.”

  “That’s true.” I pulled her in for a hug and decided it was pointless to tell her that Henry’s negligence had led to Noah’s death. She knew enough, and this connection appeared to comfort her.

  She pulled back and gave me a determined look. “It seems like your dad is trying to make up for things now.”

  “He is, I guess.”

  “So? Why don’t we go then?”

  “We do have to eat.”

  “Awesome!” She beamed and popped up from the couch. Then she looked down at her clothes: dark gray motocross T-shirt and jeans ripped at the knees. “Should I change?”

  “That’s up to you. I’m not going to.” My outfit lacked any fashion flair, since I’d spent the day working from home.

  An hour later, we sat on a new coffee-colored couch. Every piece of furniture around us, from the end tables and lamps to the wall hangings and knickknacks, displayed like he’d just won the showcase showdown on The Price is Right. Perhaps a slightly more middleclass version, but still, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to all the crap from our old house. Was it because of me? I’d zoned out a few minutes earlier thinking about it. Then I stood, wandering around, taking inventory until I found something both old and new—a baffling photograph tucked away on a bookshelf that seized my heart for several seconds. Dad, Noah, and I sat on a blanket somewhere in a grassy park. I’d never seen the image before; I racked my brain for the memory. We looked happy. Normal. Something I’d never pictured our broken little trio as. My legs weakened as Noah’s glowing eyes drew me in. A frightening heat filled my head, a panic similar to that day in the shower when Daniel had found me. God, please spare me those horrific images. I sucked in a few deep breaths, focusing on Noah’s smile. I closed my eyes and saw flashes of his face, giggling, talking. Then he climbed up a metal ladder. Ran across bright green grass. And there, just beyond him, my dad giving chase with the same carefree smile. Where had these images come from? I opened my eyes, focusing on calming my heart rate, when Becca’s voice bled into my head.

  “…and Barb thinks once they’re living together, a proposal will follow. I got all the brains when that egg split.”

  “Won’t you hate living with some strange guy?” Alyssa had no problem carrying the conversation without me. I’m sure she thought of Teddy with her question.

  I walked back into the living room to attempt to join the conversation. I heard Dad behind me setting the table; I briefly considered offering my help, but I didn’t want to miss what Becca had to say.

  “Yeah, I’m not too excited about being a third wheel in my own home, but I might have another option.” Her gaze drifted beyond me as her smile turned up like the Cheshire Cat’s.

  Shit. I’d already reached the carry-on limit for emotional baggage, so I wasn’t thrilled about where this headed. I turned to find my dad with narrowed eyes and an almost imperceptible headshake. When he saw me, he turned up an awkward grin.

  “It’s about time to eat, ladies.” The gray highlights at his temples showed more prominently under the dining room light. Seeing him as aging may have been easier to handle if I’d observed it happening gradually. Even though I had caused the long separation, I’d given myself plenty of justification.

  As I watched him set down a bowl of salad, I wondered if there would be a day when I could look at him without the set of conflicting emotions playing tug-of-war inside me. I wasn’t without empathy or forgiveness, but those had only won battles. The war had yet to be decided.

  He peered at me with a smile I didn’t recognize, soft and relaxed, like a man behind the wheel of a convertible. Like the man in the picture. Instinctively, I returned it. A slow sigh left me as I not only accepted his happiness but embraced it.

  “Well, don’t be shy. Spaghetti’s getting sticky.”

  Alyssa skipped over. She grabbed a plate before taking the first seat. We all loaded our dishes with pasta, salad, and bread while Dad asked Alyssa about her mother and school. With one uninteresting topic and one she hoped to avoid, she eventually found a way to turn the tables on him by grilling him about his plans for a pet.

  “Your yard is kinda small, so you could get a little inside dog.”

  “To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about a pet.”

  “What about just a cat then?”

  “You really love animals, don’t you?” he said.

  “Yep. Lots of people think I want to be a vet just because I love animals. But I couldn’t stand hurting them, even if it’s to make them well, ya know? I’d rather run a shelter or do some kind of animal rights shit or something.” Her shoulders shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Henry ignored the slip-up and continued. “I think that’s a good plan, young lady.”

  “And if you got a cat, it could sit on your lap and keep you company while you watch TV.”

  Henry chuckled and nodded as he chewed. Before he could swallow and respond, Becca chimed in.

  “I’m allergic to cats…so it might not be the best idea.”

  I set my fork down on my plate and reached for the tea I wished was wine. “Can we just rip the freaking Band-Aid off already?” If I hadn’t been so annoyed at all Becca’s hints, I might have applauded myself for curtailing my use of the F-word, which seemed to be called for there.

  Becca’s mouth flew open as her eyes shot across the table to my dad. He tilted his head as he stared back; his expression scolded her. A long pause rolled across the table; Becca and Alyssa turned to their plates like admonished children. Dad faced forward, that same blank look his face transformed into during some of our sessions.

  I sighed with excess. “Figures.” I wiped my mouth with my napkin, about to get up. Then he turned to me.

  “You’re right, Gray. I’m sorry. Becca and I were obviously not on the same page about this, but yes, she’s going to be moving in here.” />
  “Awesome,” Alyssa said.

  Who knew why she had any feelings about the subject at all, but I chalked it up to illogical teen impulse.

  “When will you two stop treating me like I’m made of glass?” My pulse sped, but I kept it from my tone for Alyssa’s sake.

  “That’s exactly what I told Henry. Dr. Rothberg says we have to stop protecting you at some point.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Ladies,” my dad said, but the two of us kept our gazes locked and loaded.

  Becca pulled her eyes away, seeming to finally consider his words. “This isn’t the time to get into this.”

  “Get into what?” I said, confused. “The fact that you were afraid to tell me you were moving in here, or that you’ve obviously been seeing Dr. Rothberg on your own?”

  “Who’s ready for dessert?” Dad said, looking around the table as if nothing happened.

  “I am,” Alyssa said. “What is it?”

  “Nothin’ fancy, little lady. Just some ice cream.”

  As if I had no control over my mouth, I started spewing questions with rapid fire. “Why is this place stripped of anything from my childhood? Where’s my mother’s stuff? Where are the pictures of Noah?”

  Alyssa narrowed her eyes at me. Dad retreated as expected while Becca shook her head. “I told you,” she said under her breath as she rose from the table. She proceeded to the kitchen with her plate. Dad pushed his chair back.

  “Are you going to say anything?” My tone grew louder and more insistent. Warning signals set off an unnerving pulse through my system. Becca set her plate next to the sink and turned to watch for my dad’s answer.

  “It’s a new house, Gray. I just wanted to get some new things.”

  “Bullshit.” I immediately glanced to Alyssa, wondering if we should leave and end this before it got ugly.

  She rose from her chair, her lips pulled straight, eyes sympathetic. “I forgot to text my mom. I think I’ll go do that outside.”

  I folded my arms and stared at the two of them as Alyssa’s steps sounded behind me. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on here, but let me be clear: I don’t care if you guys live together. Do whatever you want. We don’t have to be so involved in each other’s lives.” I stood and pushed in my chair. “I think this was a mistake. Thanks for dinner, but we should go.”

  Dad took a step in my direction. “Gray, honey, wait.” He drew in a breath. “I’m trying.” His voice came out soft but insistent. “I want to be a part of your life again. I want to leave the past behind and focus on the future. I wish you could do that with me.”

  “Yeah, I bet you do.” All the progress we’d made in sessions fell away as I spoke. Something about that stupid house had set off my defenses. “I’m trying to get on with my own life, too. I wanted to forgive you. I tried to forgive you. But—”

  “Forgive him?” Becca came up behind him with knotted brows directed at me.

  “Becca, stay out of this!” Dad’s clipped tone startled us both, but Becca stood her ground.

  “I won’t, Henry. I’m in this now, too, and I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep letting her treat you this way and blame everything on you.”

  “Becca…I’m going to ask you to leave now. This is between my daughter and me.”

  The mess steamrolled too quickly to stop now. “No, I want to hear what she has to say,” I said. It’s obviously something important. Something I need to know.” As bad as it sounded, an overwhelming desire for answers trampled my fear into submission. I’d decided right then that I wasn’t leaving that house until I had some answers.

  Becca and Henry held an intense conversation with their eyes.

  “I love you, Henry, but this has gone on far too long.”

  His head wagged back and forth, eyes pleaded with hers. “Don’t do this.”

  “Please. It’s for the best. You have to tell her…or I will.”

  CHAPTER 16

  --------------------------

  Gray

  Dad scrubbed a jittery hand across his jaw as he decided his next move. Clearly, whatever came next would hurt one or both of us. A small part of me felt for him in that moment, but the selfish, defensive Gray he’d helped to create prepared for a fight.

  “I want to be alone with Gray,” he said, his tone defeated.

  The door opened. A pair of curious young eyes scanned our faces. “So, no dessert?”

  Becca strode over to her, holding the door open so she couldn’t close it. “Henry and Gray need to talk. Why don’t I give you a ride back to the apartment?”

  Alyssa checked me and I nodded. “I won’t be long behind you. Get your backpack ready for tomorrow.” I managed a slim smile, but I could tell she didn’t buy it.

  “Okay. I’ll see you at home. Thank you for dinner, Henry,” she said and then turned to leave.

  “You’re welcome, darlin’.” The soft sweetness of his tone crumbled a tiny piece of my defenses.

  Becca sent one last determined gaze in Dad’s direction and then followed Alyssa out.

  The house wasn’t my home. The surroundings were completely unfamiliar. Yet I stood a lost and confused child again. Confused by the man whose job description included making everything clear. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, waiting for the door to close. Waiting for him to tell me what to do or where to go. I folded my arms and noticed my leg jiggling.

  Dad pointed to the couch as he sat. “Please, have a seat.”

  I complied without a word, afraid to change the course of fate, giving him the reins to lead this wherever it needed to go.

  He leaned his forearms on his knees and clasped his fingers together, staring at them. “A lot of what I’m about to tell you is not going to make sense to you.” He examined my tangled expression. “At least I don’t expect it to. You were so young…”

  The knot in my stomach grew at seeing the fear in his eyes. Something told me the distress plagued him for my sake and not his own. He didn’t want to hurt me, but I felt it barreling down on me like a runaway train. “Just tell me. Whatever it is.” If there was anything I’d learned in the past few months, it was that the past would catch up to you. The flashes of memory I’d been experiencing lately evidenced that.

  “When your mama died…” His hesitant gaze waited on a harsh reaction from me. I couldn’t blame him for that. “We all grieved in our own way. But you…you somehow wouldn’t even accept it.”

  “You mean I didn’t believe she was gone?”

  “No, not exactly. More like you seemed totally unaffected. Like all the sadness and pain just skipped right over you and landed on the rest of us. Kids are resilient, but for you it was like it never happened. You turned all your focus and attention on Noah. He became your baby boy after that day.”

  My lips curled up for a moment. He was my baby boy. And then a bolt of sadness hit my heart.

  “I’m not sayin’ I wasn’t grateful you stepped up at such a young age, Gray, but you weren’t easy to deal with either.”

  I straightened and fixed a glare on him for his nerve.

  “You had a possessiveness about Noah. You were controlling. Even with the few sitters we managed to keep.”

  “Well, someone had to take care of him.”

  He tilted his head as if my comment had no place there. “You were a good girl, Gray. You didn’t deserve what you had to deal with…none of us did.” He paused, seemingly searching for the right words. “So it’s understandable that it affected you.”

  “What do you mean affected? Like the way I acted with Noah?”

  “That, yes. But also…”

  Growing frustrated, I stood and paced across the room. “What? What did I do? Taking care of a baby after losing my mother, even though I was a child myself?” My tone intensified with each word. I turned and faced the window, only the street lamp visible out front. “Changing Noah’s diapers, feeding him, playing with him because you weren’t around or hungo
ver or passed out somewhere?”

  Dad jumped to his feet. “No!”

  I turned and saw his pained expression.

  “I wasn’t.”

  “What?”

  “Gray, I wasn’t drinking back then.”

  My mouth flew open; my eyes widened. “How dare you say that to me.”

  His mouth straightened, his head nodded slowly. “It’s true.”

  “You were in AA around the same time I was.”

  “That’s true. But I didn’t start drinking until years after Noah died. You were about eleven by that time.”

  I spun and paced back toward the couch, my heart racing. “That’s impossible. I took care of my brother because I had to. Because you couldn’t.”

  “You’re remembering what you want to remember. Yes, we had our issues, and you took on a lot of responsibility. After your mama died, I took on another job. I worked two construction jobs. You remember that?”

  I shrugged. His work had always seemed like just another thing that took him from us.

  “One at night and one in the morning. I used to come home in between to take naps or just rest.” He took a step in my direction and looked me straight in the eye. “I was exhausted, Gray. And devastated from losing the love of my life, not knowing what would happen to us or how to take care of a baby. I was overwhelmed, distraught, killing myself to make a living for you two. But I never abused alcohol.”

  I gaped at him as he spoke. My world spun, taking in his impossible words. All I could do was fight it and shake my head. He extended his hand to touch mine, and I pulled away.

  “I know this is difficult to hear, but it’s true. You were going through things in your own way. You began to lash out at me for not being around for you and Noah.”

  All the painful memories, the feeling of abandonment, came crashing back down on me. I turned my back to him as he continued to speak.

  “You had every right. You deserved better. But I did the best I could. You have to understand that I don’t blame you for being upset. For being disappointed in me and blaming me. It was an unfair situation.” He rested a hand on my shoulder. “But it was unfair for both of us.”