The Truth We Bury: A Novel

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The Truth We Bury: A Novel Page 28

by Barbara Taylor Sissel


  “Of course not,” she answered. “It’s your wedding.”

  “I didn’t think you would.” AJ’s grin was teasing, as if he knew.

  What? What did he know? How did he know?

  Lily’s face warmed. She glanced off, collecting her wits, her galloping heart. When her dad and Winona slipped into seats on AJ’s side of the flower-decked aisle, she joined them. Moments later, the jazz trio that had been playing as guests arrived, stopped, and the processional music Shea and AJ had chosen began: “A Thousand Years.”

  Dru was delivered to the altar by Paul. Leigh and Vanessa joined her. Then Shea appeared at the head of the aisle on her father’s arm, and as the lush strains of piano and cello music blended in the soft early-evening air, everyone rose. The collective murmur of their admiration was woven into the rising crescendo of the melody. Lily brought her hands together. Shea was a vision in her grandmother’s wedding gown, a fitted slip topped by a lace-trimmed overdress made of the finest netting. The mermaid skirt was also trimmed in yards of delicate lace and flared from her knees. Dru had styled Shea’s hair, pulling it into a French twist, and instead of a veil, she wore a comb trimmed with pale pink clematis blooms and white rosebuds, the same flowers as those she carried in her bouquet. Lily had found her mother’s jewelry in the vanity drawer while tidying her dad’s bathroom several days ago, and she’d given Shea one of her mother’s bracelets to wear, a delicate gold chain hung with a tiny heart. It glimmered on Shea’s wrist, and her eyes when they met Lily’s were filled with joy.

  But then her glance shifted to AJ, and they had eyes only for each other.

  They had written their vows, and they repeated them now, words of love that bound them, but also freed them to be who they were—separate, yet together. After Pastor Ingalls pronounced them man and wife and gave his permission, AJ took Shea’s face in his hands, and he kissed her as if she were his treasure, his gift. The two of them turned then, hands clasped, laughing out loud like children.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Pastor Ingalls called out, “may I present AJ and Shea, Mr. and Mrs. Axel Jebediah Isley.”

  Lily smiled even as her throat closed. It was the same for her dad and Winona. Many of the guests were similarly affected. The local folks, especially. They knew the tragic circumstances. Many of them would have known Kate and Becca personally. They would have attended their funerals, grieved with their families. The shock waves in a community as small as Wyatt would have touched everyone to some degree. But now, today, they rejoiced at this new beginning. How could they not?

  Paul was right. By the time they’d finished dinner, the clouds had melted to reveal the sky’s star-spangled arch. A fragile crescent moon hung in one corner. The tables, where the meal had been served, were cleared from the large platform–cum–dance floor that Shea’s dad had hammered together for the occasion. A DJ set up his equipment. Dancing had always been part of the plan for the wedding, and while Shea was worried it was too much for him, AJ was determined to have the first dance with her as his wife. They’d chosen their song months ago, “Amazed,” and when the opening notes sounded, he led her onto the floor. He’d traded his crutches for a cane, but passing Lily, he handed it to her. “I’m only going to get this chance once,” he said.

  Everyone applauded. They were moved, watching Shea and AJ, hope in motion. After a couple of minutes, the couple waved, and other guests joined them. Later in the evening, Lily danced with her dad, and with Kelvin Dermott, and once with Paul before he left to go back to Dallas. She was panicked for a moment, watching him go. She had a sudden urge to run after him and beg him to reconsider. Who was she outside her role as his wife? She’d become that person long before she could know who she might have become on her own. But something inside her was altered, and it felt immutable. She couldn’t go back to the life Paul had fashioned for her. He was her past, not her future. That was up to her to find now.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Her heart rose at the sound of Edward’s voice. “I’ve been hoping for a chance to talk to you,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  Heat flushed her cheeks at the teasing lilt in his tone. “I wanted to thank you for everything you did, looking into AJ’s situation.”

  “It wasn’t anything much, and it turned out to be a wrong turn anyway. I’m just glad you got him back.”

  “Yes. Thank you,” she said again, and she was annoyed at herself. There was so much more she wanted to say to Edward, all of it crowding her mind, trapped in her throat.

  The music seemed to swell outside the silence that contained them. Inside it, Lily was conscious of Edward’s nearness, the faint scent of his aftershave, the moonlit glimmer that outlined his jaw and skimmed the muscled contours of his forearms, which were bare below the rolled sleeves of his white oxford dress shirt.

  She glanced at him. “I wanted to tell you—”

  “I hired a private detective,” he said at the same time.

  “You did?”

  “Yes, but you first.”

  “No, you—”

  “I’m going to find Charlie and try to explain, if he’ll let me,” Edward said. “You inspired me,” he added.

  “I did?” Lily doubted she had ever inspired anyone.

  “Yes,” he said, and they fell silent again.

  They watched the dancers.

  “I guess you’ll be heading back to Dallas soon?” He was asking.

  “No, I’m staying at the ranch for the time being, until I can figure out a more permanent home for myself.”

  Lily was relieved when Edward nodded and left it at that. Her decision was so fresh, unexplored in any depth even by herself. His questions would only disconcert her.

  A new song began playing, one of her favorites, an old Garth Brooks standard, “The Dance.” The lyrics stood out—something about life being better left to chance. She felt the warmth of Edward’s gaze.

  “I don’t guess you’d care to dance?” She turned to him. “I have to warn you, it’s a risk.” He smiled at her. “I’m not very good at it.”

  “Well.” She smiled, too. “Someone once told me life is a gamble.”

  “Oh?” He slid his hand under her elbow. “Do you believe them?”

  Rather than answer, she looked across the makeshift dance floor at AJ holding Shea in his arms. There was no trace of his earlier apprehension, although Lily knew in all likelihood it would return. But at least they had reestablished a connection. However tenuous and fragile, they had a chance at a new beginning. She would be there for him, help him in whatever way she could. Lily was thinking of this, of the gift she’d been given, when it struck her—the horrible irony—that the very tragedy that had devastated three other families had in its way restored hers, although not as it had been. It hadn’t occurred to her before, and now when it did, she felt her knees weaken slightly, enough that Edward tightened his grasp on her arm.

  “Easy,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  She held his gaze. If she told him what had disturbed her, that she, like AJ, wondered why she had been spared the heartbreak of the other families, she suspected Edward would say she couldn’t change what had happened. She couldn’t give back what the other families had lost. Somehow she knew Edward would tell her all she could do was move forward. She had no real idea of how AJ would react when he learned of her past and that she had kept it secret from him the way her dad had kept Erik’s true relationship to them a secret. She couldn’t know either what lay ahead for her family, whether AJ would ever truly recover, or how they would manage if her dad was losing his mind. She didn’t want to know, she thought. The song lyrics were right. The future was better left to chance. She looked again at AJ and Shea, and AJ, catching her at it, grinned, whirling his bride. Shea’s skirt swooped, and she laughed and waved, and Lily’s happiness in their joy rose, seemingly from the ground, a warm bolus of love that swelled against her ribs.

  Edward said her name, prompting her, and smiling up at h
im, Lily slipped her hand into his. “I think we should dance,” she said.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  If you’re curious about the car accident and ensuing legal fallout that shattered the town of Wyatt that Ken and Dru refer to in The Truth We Bury, check out Faultlines (Lake Union, 2016) to learn the whole story.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  While there is only one person named as the author of this novel, it would never have been written without the help of so many others. I owe thanks always to Barbara Poelle, because without her none of the rest of this magical journey would have ever happened. I am indebted to my editor, Kelli Martin. This is the second book we’ve worked on together, and both experiences have been a true collaboration of the heart. I worked with a developmental editor, Melody Guy, for the first time for this book, and am so grateful for her astute guidance and care in the shaping of this story.

  A huge bouquet of gratitude to my copy editor, Sara Brady, and to my proofreaders, Jill Kramer and Elise Marton, for the fantastic job you both did in refining all the details: voice, clarity, consistency, and all the rest. Copy editing and proofreading aren’t just spelling and grammar, folks! There’s so much more to what Sara and Jill do! And a boatload of thanks to my cover designer, Rex Bonomelli, for his fantastic art that so completely captures in a single image the heart and spirit of this story.

  Thank you to the rest of my amazing Amazon/Lake Union team, naming just a few: Dennelle, Danielle, Gabby, Michael, and Gabe. It’s all of them and the countless others who work behind the scenes that give books their wings.

  I want to thank Spanish-language teacher Robert Wedding, of Paschal High School in the Fort Worth ISD, for his help in the translation and usage of the Spanish terminology. Any inaccuracies in that regard are my own. I never would have met Robert without my sister’s help. Thank you to Susan Harper for putting us in touch, and for a lifetime of book sharing and sister talk.

  Recently, reading a Facebook post, I was brought to tears by the beautiful words of my friend, teacher, and mentor, Guida Jackson, in which she paid tribute to my writing journey. The thing is, I might never have persevered without her influence, her encouragement, and her faith. She is a brighter light on my path than she knows.

  Thank you to David, as ever, for endlessly, patiently, listening to me think plots out loud, and for making me laugh. His comments are just enlightening, the very spark I need. This time, I don’t think I would have found the beating heart of this book without his help. Thank you to Heather Wilson for her tireless support and encouragement, and in the case of this particular novel, her help with music choices. Garth Brooks’s “The Dance” kind of says it all for this story.

  And yet again, a huge and heartfelt shout-out to my readers. So many of you have been with me since the first book, or you read one and went back and picked up all the rest. You’ve left reviews; you’ve sent me notes, and there just aren’t words to say how much your support over the long haul has meant and continues to mean to me. Sending love, joy, and gratitude to all of you, and to readers around the world. Thank you!

  BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS

  The Truth We Bury is told in alternate chapters through two points of view: a mother of the bride and a mother of the groom. Almost immediately readers learn there is friction between these two moms regarding the upcoming marriage. Neither of them believes the other one’s child is a suitable mate. Do you think parents should question their son’s or daughter’s choice of a life partner, or should they keep their thoughts to themselves? What if they feel marriage to the prospective bride or groom will be damaging or somehow endanger the life of their daughter or son? What would you do if one or both of your parents disapproved of your choice of a life mate?

  When Lily Isley is confronted by detectives at her home, she suspects they are there on some matter regarding her son, AJ, and determines initially not to tell them anything. Is she right in her decision to refuse to cooperate with police? If you were confronted in the same way, would you inform on a family member who was suspected of being involved in a crime? Would your decision, whether or not to cooperate, be based on the seriousness of the crime? On other extenuating circumstances? Would you harbor a relative who was wanted for murder if you believed they were innocent? Would you assist them in an escape?

  Lily holds on to her faith in AJ despite the evidence that appears to give overwhelming proof that her son is a murderer. In the face of such evidence against someone you love and feel you know, would you be able to keep your faith in them?

  Lily and her husband disagree on almost every aspect of how best to help their son. It’s as if the crisis exacerbates their unhappiness as a couple, driving a further wedge between them. Would you agree that a catastrophe of this proportion might bring out the worst as well as the best in a marriage? Do you feel such crises draw families closer together as a rule, or do these situations drive them farther apart?

  What would you do if you felt very strongly that a certain action must be taken to protect your grown son or daughter, and your spouse disagreed?

  What is your feeling about secret-keeping in families? Do you think the truth should come out regardless of the consequences, or in certain situations would you be willing to keep a secret, because the result, if you don’t, might shatter the family?

  Dru’s marriage and her trust in people were destroyed as the result of an armed robbery and assault on her husband when he exhibited signs of PTSD that led him to threaten her. If you found yourself in a similar situation with a loved one, would you leave, or stay and try to work it out?

  Dru, Jeb, and AJ are each gun owners for different reasons. What are your feelings about gun ownership? Before her husband’s assault, Dru had never thought of buying a gun, much less learning to shoot it. Do you think her decision to do so was the right one, given the circumstances that led her to become a gun owner? What are your feelings about keeping weapons in the home?

  AJ returns from Afghanistan, and while he was recognized as a hero after saving a fellow soldier, he is also diagnosed with PTSD. He’s prone to nightmares and emotionally volatile. Do you feel the United States and the US military do enough to help treat our combat veterans who suffer from psychological trauma?

  If someone you loved planned to become partners for life with an individual who had been diagnosed with PTSD, one who exhibited symptoms of violence, aggressive behavior, and depression, how would you feel about it? Would you do as Dru does and attempt to talk your loved one out of making such a commitment?

  Some say when we marry, we’re actually marrying our spouse’s family, too. Do you think it’s relevant to consider the family in the choice of a spouse, and how well you get along with the other family members—that is, whether you share common ground? Has friction with a spouse’s family been an issue in your marriage or in the marriage of someone you know? If so, how was it handled?

  Dru thought by leaving Houston and moving to Wyatt, she was leaving crime behind, but as Ken Carter reminds her, the current murder investigation is the second of two calamities to befall the town in a short span of time. What are your feelings regarding the relative safety of a small town or rural setting? Are these areas necessarily safer in your opinion?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2013 Shannon Stroubakis

  Barbara Taylor Sissel writes issue-driven women’s fiction threaded with elements of suspense, which particularly explores how families respond to the tragedy of crime. She is the author of seven previous novels: The Last Innocent Hour, The Ninth Step, The Volunteer, Evidence of Life, Safekeeping, Crooked Little Lies, and Faultlines.

  Born in Honolulu, Hawaii, Barbara was raised in various locations across the Midwest and once lived on the grounds of a first-offender prison facility, where she interacted with the inmates, their families, and the people who worked with them. The experience made a profound impression on her and provided her with a unique insight into the circumstances of the crimes that were committed and the often-surprising w
ays the justice system moved to deal with them.

  An avid gardener, Barbara has two sons and lives on a farm in the Texas Hill Country outside Austin. You can find her online at www.barbarataylorsissel.com.

 

 

 


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