White Lies (A Twisted Fate Series) (Volume 1)

by Kristin Mayer

  A smile spread across my face. A baby. Carson was going to be a daddy. Children were so innocent; I knew Carson would be a wonderful dad even if the timing was less than perfect. “How do you feel about it?”

  “I’m scared shitless, but this baby will be always be a miracle… never a mistake or accident.” I loved his words and gave him a hug before sitting back down. Carson took hold of his fork and motioned for me. “We can’t let these crepes go to waste.”

  I took another bite and leaned against him. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you as a best friend.”

  “I feel the same way, angel.”

  We took a few more bites before Carson spoke. “Francesca and I have a lot to figure out.”

  I went to the freezer and pulled out the homemade vanilla gelato. “I think celebratory ice cream is in order. Congratulations, Carson. You’re going to be a magnificent dad.”

  He chuckled. “I was wondering how long it was going to take before you got some. Give me a big scoop.”

  Easily, I scooped the yummy goodness on our plates. “Admit it. You were two seconds away from getting it yourself.”

  In response, I got a wink before the conversation turned serious again. “Thank you, Willow, for being here for me. I want you to know I’m still here for you. Whatever you need.”

  “I know that, Carson. And I love you for it. The same goes for you. Regardless of what’s going on, I’m here for you.” It was an emotional morning. I took a bite of ice cream to stave off the tears.

  “Francesca is worried what you’ll think. She hoped maybe she could talk to you.”

  Babies were so pure and innocent. They represented happiness. “Tell her not to worry at all. After she gets here, I’ll plan something simple for us to do.” I sighed. “I’m going to spoil that baby so much. I can’t wait to be an aunt. Do you know how far along she is?”

  “No, she wanted me to be there with her at the doctor to get the due date if I wanted to be.”

  I liked the response. “Your mom is going to be excited. She’s been mentioning grandbabies since you graduated from college.”

  Carson shook his head. “Poor Francesca.” We laughed. “So what’s next?”

  “See what else Trent finds. Do my show in three days. And then see where it all leads.”

  Three days had passed since returning early from Italy. It was hard to believe it had been a month since Alex died. So much had changed since then—I had changed as a person. To go through what I had… I believed it was impossible to not be scarred from the tragedies. But I was determined to wear those scars proudly.

  At my insistence, Carson was at his house with Francesca. He’d offered to bring her here to stay with me, but they needed this time to figure things out. He checked on me regularly. However, I was more than protected with all the security measures Trent had in place.

  The fingerprints from the documents I had provided took longer than expected. Trying to find oil smear patterns was a tedious job, apparently. To my knowledge, Trent’s team hadn’t found a match. Things were further complicated since Mildred, Carson, and I had touched them.

  Tack and I talked frequently now that I was alone, though I was still surrounded by people. Last night, I’d sat in my studio watching the sunset while we spoke. We’d talked about nothing at all but everything at the same time.

  I told him stories from my childhood.

  Tack told me dreams of his future.

  I was too scared to admit my dreams. So he avoided his childhood, and I avoided my dreams. It had worked. The past and the present collided into harmony.

  Maybe it was a foreshadowing of things to come.

  There was something to be said about getting to know the soul of a person before you saw them. It was hard to not feel something for him. Tack had been there in a way no one else had. But I was ready to not have any secrets and see the man behind the voice that stole my thoughts more often than not.

  The next song played on my phone. “Unsteady” by the X Ambassadors. I paused while cleaning in my bedroom. The lyrics spoke to me. I wanted to be held on to and loved.

  My phone paused the song when a reminder popped up.

  The air left me as I sat on the bed, staring at the reminder. Having been focused on what I discovered from Trent, as well as Carson’s situation, I’d forgot about my own.

  My period still wasn’t here.

  I was never late.

  Never.

  Things became more real as I thought about that last night I shared with Alex. Sometimes the images came to me in my dreams, though I wanted to forget them. That last night between us had been magnificently beautiful, but then I woke up remembering the lies, which turned my reality into a nightmare.

  The notification buzzed again since I hadn’t hit dismiss. I’d set the reminder and forced it out of my mind, refusing to worry about something that wasn’t confirmed with everything else going on.

  A suspicion would either be confirmed or denied. I wasn’t sure what I wanted or how I felt. To wish I wasn’t pregnant felt wrong. There might be an innocent child growing inside me that had nothing to do with what happened.

  Regardless of my feelings for Alex, I made a vow to love this child unconditionally. Alex was dead—not able to affect him or her if I was pregnant.

  My feet were heavy as I trudged to my bathroom where I had several tests. I’d bought them on a whim while in the drug store a few days after Alex died when my head was a mess. I pulled three out of the cabinet and stared at them.

  My heart beat faster.

  My palms were sweaty.

  I needed a minute.

  Never in my life had I felt lonelier. I was scared. Terrified, actually.

  Sitting on the steps to the Jacuzzi, I stared down at one of the tests I’d grabbed. In a matter of minutes, I was going to have an answer one way or another. The test was easy enough. Pee on the stick. Wait. Either the words pregnant or not pregnant appeared on the digital display.

  I gripped the test lighter. Why? Why had Alex done all this? Why had he targeted me? If I was pregnant, my child would have a half-brother they could never know about. I knew what it felt like to have something monumental kept from you. That was the last thing I wanted to do. It also gave me a little insight as to how Dad might have felt keeping the truth away from me.

  Sometimes we receive understanding in the most unexpected way.

  The phone in my pocket vibrated. It was Tack. “Hey, can I call you back?” I knew I sounded off, though I tried to keep my tone even.

  “You sound stressed.” It was a statement. Not an answer. Like so many times before, it confirmed Tack knew me.

  I heaved a sigh, happy to have someone to talk to. “I am stressed.”

  “Why?” Before I said anything else, he continued, “I know none of this makes sense. I know my remaining a secret is frustrating. Please don’t shut me out. It will all make sense. I am here for you, Willow.”

  I cleared my throat. “How much longer?”

  “Regardless of whether I find everything I need to or not, I’ll tell you everything within a month.”

  A month.

  That felt like an eternity, but it was an answer. Something drew me to Tack, and it was near impossible to resist.

  “A month. I can live with that.”

  I heard him blow out a breath. “Why are you stressed?”

  “I’m about to take a pregnancy test.” Silence. “I’m scared to do this alone.” There I put it out there. My true feelings.

  He cleared his throat. “Do you want me to be on the phone with you? We can do this together. You’re not alone.”

  “Yes.” My one worded answer hung out there. “What if I’m not ready for this?”

  “You’re one of the strongest people I know, having endured what you have. And if you happen to be pregnant, you’ll be the best mom. I know it.”

  This was why I had not thought about avoiding his phone call. Tack always knew the words I needed to hear t
o stay the course. I stood and headed to the toilet. “I’ll be right back. I’m not peeing with you on the phone.”

  “Sounds good.” The accented chuckle brought a longing to my heart… to have a man who truly loved me for me.

  Quickly, I hastened to get my business done and returned the stick to the counter while the timer on my phone ticked down. “I’m back. I set the alarm on my other phone.”

  “Don’t worry. What’s meant to be will be.”

  Pace five steps to the left.

  Turn.

  Pace five steps to the right.

  Turn.

  Pace five steps to the left.

  Turn.

  “What are you doing? Are you counting?”

  I huffed. “I’m pacing. It’s helping.”

  “Willow, what scares you the most?”

  I stopped pacing. “Not being enough.”

  “You are more than enough.”

  Ding.

  Ding.

  Ding.

  Terrified, I stood frozen, my feet rooted to the ground. I’d always wanted to be a mother. To give a child something I lost far too early.

  But this was real.

  And the situation wasn’t ideal since the child would be fatherless.

  It was hard to wrap my head around it all. Still not moving I stared at the test on the counter.

  “Willow?”

  My voice was barely above a whisper. “Yes?”

  “Go check the test, sweetheart. I’m here.”

  “Okay.” With trepidation, I walked forward and looked at the stick.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Congratulations, Willow. You will be an incredible mother.”

  Tears spilled down my face as I touched my stomach.

  Mom.

  I’m pregnant.

  A nervous giggle left me. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Yes, sweetheart. You’re pregnant. You’re going to be a mom.”

  Staring at the test, I smiled. “Thank you for being here, Tack. I needed it more than you know.”

  “I will always try to be there if I can.”

  His words were like a vow, and I sensed they meant more than I gave them credit for. I hoped my intuition was right.

  A list of to-dos spiraled through my mind. This baby was going to bring me only joy. I was determined to not let the past mar this experience.

  Through all the pain, I was getting something beautiful.

  A gift from heaven.

  On my tippy toes, I reached for a box on the top shelf of my closet. All afternoon I’d been reading on dos and don’ts for pregnancy. My head swam with information. On Monday, I had a doctor’s appointment. After I confirmed the pregnancy, I would tell Nonno.

  The baby was the size of a poppy seed. So tiny.

  Carson had called and asked if he and Francesca could come over. They would arrive soon. I’d already made my mind up to tell him. We were going to have children together. They were going to be the best of friends. I knew it.

  Some adjustments needed to be made to my painting for a bit, which was fine. I had nearly compiled the list of what I needed to order. I was anxious to paint again as I felt a sense of new inspiration unraveling.

  “Willow, are you in here?” Carson called from the hallway.

  “Yes! In my closet.”

  The box was lighter than expected when I finally reached it and pulled it down. Francesca and Carson were at the door.

  “Hey guys.” After setting the box down, I hugged Francesca. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you guys. I’m totally going to spoil this baby. Do you mind?”

  I held my hands out from her stomach and she laughed. “No, not at all.”

  When Francesca had first arrived, she was super nervous and I had remained reserved. There was an ease about her today. Being totally obnoxious, I spoke to the baby. “This is Auntie Willow. I can’t wait to meet you.”

  Carson shook his head at my silly antics.

  “What? I need to make sure this baby knows who I am.”

  Francesca beamed and touched her stomach. “This baby is going to be lucky with all the love he or she has.”

  Picking up the box, I headed to the bedroom to give us all a little more space.

  Carson motioned to the box. “What’s in there?”

  “My baby stuff.”

  His eyes grew wide—he probably remembered my confession at the beach house. Glancing at Francesca, he remained quiet, but I knew he wanted to know. I wanted her to know, too.

  “We’re going to be parents together. I’m pregnant.”

  Francesca gasped and then squealed before she took me in a hug. “This is going to be the best pregnancy. Our children will be the best of friends.”

  As more time passed, the initial shock gave way to elation. I was going to be a mom. “It is. I’m glad you’re here, Francesca. It’s going to be amazing to have children the same age. We’ll be able to do so much together.”

  Carson busted out laughing. “And get into a lot of trouble together. Heaven help us.”

  I closed my eyes. “Payback is going to be a bitch, Carson. We were so naughty.” Glancing at Francesca, I added, “I’m so sorry for what you’re about to endure.”

  “Oh, dear.” Francesca’s eyes widened. “I’m an innocent bystander in all this.”

  Laying my hand on her shoulder, I concurred. “I’m so sorry. Word to the wise, we can never leave them alone. Or we’ll come back to a house filled with ants and children smelling like skunks.”

  Francesca’s only words were, “Oh, double dear.”

  Laughter erupted. We were in so much trouble.

  Carson and Francesca left to see Marie and Bennett to tell them about the baby. They’d asked me to come along, but I wanted them to have this special time. Francesca needed to bond with his parents. It was smart waiting a couple of days to tell them until they understood a little more about what they wanted to do.

  For now, Francesca had chosen to stay in the states. If and when she was ready to go back to Florence, they would work out a bicontinental arrangement. With Carson’s financial situation, traveling would be easy for them.

  I hated that her father refused to talk to her. It had only been Francesca and Bernardo since her mother died when she was four years old. In a way, we were kindred spirits. We knew what it was like to be without. Having each other to lean on through motherhood was a blessing.

  With my mango water, I came back to my bedroom to look through the boxes. Carson helped get the other two down from the shelf before he left, giving me strict instructions to not lift anything heavy.

  Sitting on the floor, I took off the lid from the box with the label Willow’s Baby Memorabilia. The ancestral blanket was on top. This yellow knitted blanket had been in Mom’s family for eight generations. It passed to the firstborn daughter when her parents were done having children. So far, there had been a girl in each generation. I ran my fingers over the soft fabric. It was tradition to have the baby’s picture taken at one month of age while swaddled in the blanket and place it in the family book.

  Soon, I would be adding to the picture book on the shelf in the office. Mom would be beside herself with excitement. She always wanted to have a house full of children, but she and Dad were never able to get pregnant again after me. Dad always said, “You were the only blessing we needed.”

  Next were two series of paintings, each with three paintings to complete a willow tree. I paused and looked up at the ceiling to rein in the onslaught of emotions I felt—so many good memories of these paintings. At night, Mom and Dad would read to me on my bed across from the paintings. They were the last thing I saw when I went to bed and the first thing I woke up to.

  It was hard doing this alone. I always thought I’d do this with my husband and parents still here. These would be perfect in the baby’s room. It was a piece of my parents for the baby to feel and see.

  Thinking of the time I tried to recreate the pictures with crayon on the wall
, I laughed.

  Mildred walked in at that moment. “What are you doing?”

  I held up the middle painting that had Dad’s, Mom’s, and my initials intricately painted in the tree. “Taking a walk down memory lane.”

  “Sometimes it’s good to be connected to those we loved.”

  Mildred sat beside me. Picking up the painting that went to the left, Mildred held it in the proper place next to mine. “I remember these paintings. Your dad painted them as soon as he and your mom decided on a name, right?”

  The acrylic felt bumpy as I ran my hands over it while I retold a story Mom always told me on my birthday. “Nonno was shocked they didn’t pick something a little more… Italian. Willow was Mom’s idea. Dad took her on a picnic under a willow tree for their first date. It was the memory of where they first fell in love—love at first sight.”

  She shook her head. “I remember. For the first two months, Nonno would randomly drop hints for other names. Like, ‘Wow isn’t Marcella a beautiful name.’—Or—‘I had a dream last night I had a grandchild named Alessandra.’ Your mother thought it was funny and gave him as good as she got.”

  It felt good to bring the memories to life, and remembering a simpler time, I picked up where Mildred left off. “When I was born, Nonno agreed with Mom that I was most definitely a Willow. In fact, I was the prettiest baby girl he’d ever seen. The nickname baby girl stuck ever since then.”

  We stared at the paintings for a bit longer as I let the memories fill me with happiness.

  Later, I sat on the beach eating a sandwich Mildred had packed in a small picnic basket for dinner. The tide had come in and a couple of dolphins played in the distance. It was peaceful.

  Breathing in, I filled my lungs with the smell of the sea.

  Trent approached from the side. “Is this seat taken?”

  I sat up straighter. “No, go ahead. The ocean always relaxes me. There’s plenty to eat if you’d like something.”