Tell Her No Lies

by Kelly Irvin

  She had a chance at a fresh start. Honed by the fire, like silver. No one said it would be easy, but she had God and Aaron in her life. First, she had unfinished business. Liz and her half brother and half sister. She wanted a clean slate with her biological mother. They would somehow become a family.

  Starting with a simple dinner. Nina wiped her hands on the dish towel and glanced at the table. Everything looked perfect. Sunflowers for a centerpiece. Place settings for four. Liz, Hudson, Emma, and herself. Aaron had wanted to come as moral support, but Nina preferred to do this on her own. She would welcome her mother and her half siblings into her life. Starting with homemade lasagna, garlic bread, fresh tossed salad, and Dutch apple pie, her specialty. Food made everything better. The aromas mingled in a homey scent that calmed her stomach and her spirit.

  The doorbell jangled a second time.

  “Here we go.” This she directed to Daffy and Mango, who ducked under the table, ready to attack any unwelcome intruders. Peanuts took the lead down the hallway. Runner, the big baby, headed for Brooklyn’s empty room. “Coming.”

  Nina opened the door. A six-pack of Diet Dr Pepper in one hand and a brown paper bag tucked against her chest, Liz swept past her. “Took you long enough.” She chuckled as if to underline an attempt at humor. “This is Hudson and Emma. Hudson is the shy one.” She kept walking. “I brought the drinks.”

  A brother and sister Nina never knew she had. Nothing seemed familiar in Hudson’s dark-brown hair, amber eyes, and bronze skin. He needed a haircut. Emma had a peaches-and-cream complexion. She wore thick, curly blonde hair past her shoulders. She needed a brush. Except for her blue eyes, she didn’t look much like her mother. Did they have the same father? Did Liz know who their father was? Again, the questions pursued her, giving her a strange sense of déjà vu.

  Not sure how to proceed with these newfound relatives, Nina held out her hand. Hudson shook but his gaze bounced from the floor to the ceiling. Emma ignored the hand and threw both arms around Nina in the kind of hug a person gave to her favorite aunt. “Are you really my sister?”

  “I really am.”

  “Half sister.” Hudson had that adolescent boy voice teetering on the edge of puberty.

  “Right. Come in the kitchen. I have ice for the sodas. We can sit on the patio for a few minutes while I heat the garlic bread. The lasagna has to sit for a few minutes before I cut it.”

  She was babbling. Liz didn’t seem to notice. She headed straight for the island in the middle of the kitchen. She deposited the sodas and fumbled with the paper sack. It held a bottle of red wine.

  Nina froze in the middle of the kitchen. “I thought you quit drinking.”

  Hudson snorted and Emma opened her mouth. Liz pointed one finger at them. Emma’s mouth closed. “I did. I did.” Liz’s pasty cheeks darkened. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have a glass of wine with dinner.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “You are the smart girl. I’ll leave it for Grace. She always liked a decent merlot.”

  Grace never drank anything stronger than ginger ale. Breathe. Nina pulled the lasagna from the oven. With any luck the kids would think the heat was the reason for her red face.

  Liz made a beeline for the cabinet. She found the glasses on the first try. Helped herself to the veggie tray and dip on the island. Picked up Peanuts and scratched his favorite spot behind his ears. All as if she’d lived in this house forever.

  Nina scooped up her camera and led the way out the back door. Small plates in hand, they trailed out to the deck where Grace had artfully arranged rattan chairs with palm tree-print pillows around a glass-top table. An early October breeze lifted the leaves in the live oaks and pecans. Gray and heavy, clouds scudded across the sky, making the sun play hide-and-seek as it set in the west. The air felt heavy, like rain. The kids stood stiffly until Liz ordered them to sit. They sat on either side of their mother, who seemed oblivious to their discomfort. Their silence unnerved Nina. “Have you started school?”

  “Yes.” They answered in unison.

  “Do you like it?”

  “No.” That was Hudson.

  “Yes.” Emma cracked her first smile. “I like to read. A lot.”

  Nina smiled back. “Me too.”

  Going slow like a photographer on an African savannah, she eased the camera to her face.

  “Always the photographer.” Liz frowned. “What’s up with that?”

  “It’s how I get to know people.”

  “Whatever.” Liz lit a cigarette.

  Neither child moved as the smoke drifted into their faces. Liz draped one arm around Emma. The girl coughed behind one thin hand. She was short and skinny for a ten-year-old. Pearl would want to fatten her up. She wore a faded cotton shirt and baggy khaki pants a size too big. Wrinkled but clean. Hudson, who was tall and gangly, wore a green T-shirt and jeans that were a little too tight. Like he’d suddenly outgrown them.

  “Do the cops think this Rick Zavala guy killed Geoffrey, but he won’t confess to it?”

  Nina let the camera lean against her chest. “We don’t have to talk about that right now.”

  “Don’t worry about the kids.” Liz rested the cigarette on the plate and snagged a carrot. She doused it in dill dip. The sound of crunching followed. “They know. They live in the real world.”

  She didn’t wait to swallow before talking. Geoffrey’s parents had taught them manners. Liz had attended excellent private schools. She chose her mode of existence. She chose to be this person.

  The question was why. The answer flummoxed Nina. Shock value? Sour grapes? Too many drugs? Too much alcohol? All of the above?

  “Rick confessed to killing Melanie Martinez to keep her from finding out about the firm’s involvement in bribery and corruption. His boss, Peter Coggins, is charged with hiring the man who killed Serena Cochrane and tried to kill me, but neither one of them will admit to killing Dad. They’re all charged with conspiracy to commit murder, public corruption, racketeering, and anything else the district attorney can come up with.”

  “I guess they’re trying to avoid the death penalty.”

  “Maybe.” This was a fresh start night. Not a night for discussing murder and corruption. Nina snapped a few more photos in rapid succession. “Give me a smile, you two, come on. Let’s have a nice family photo.”

  Hudson’s smirk would have to do. “How about a funny outtake? Give me your best cheesy looks.”

  This they did well. All three of them hammed it up for the camera. Tongues sticking out, cross-eyed, eyes shut, mouths open. “Good, this is good. You guys are great.”

  Feeling more relaxed for the first time in days, Nina lowered the camera. “The bread should be warm by now. Who’s ready to eat?”

  “Me!” Emma dashed for the door.

  Hudson followed at a pace more suited for a teenager in the making.

  “I hope you like lasagna.” Nina used mitten potholders to carry the main attraction into the dining room. “It’s hamburger and spicy sausage.”

  “My mouth is watering. I’m so hungry.” Emma carried the bread basket. She scooted into the first chair. “I could eat a horse.”

  “I thought you wanted to be a vegan.” Hudson snorted. “Like you can afford to be picky.”

  “Okay, you two. Eat and keep your mouths shut like civilized human beings.” Liz plopped down in the chair at the end of the table. Where her brother once sat. And before him, her father. “I get so sick of listening to them bicker.”

  “It’s okay. Jan and I did plenty of that growing up.” Liz had missed that part of their life. But that was behind them now. Now they would make up for lost time. “Emma, what grade are you in?”

  “Third.” She glanced at her mother, then at her empty plate. Her earlier effervescence dissipated. “We changed schools a few times. I got behind—”

  “I wish Jan and Brooklyn could be here. I really wanted to spend some time with my grandbaby.” The bite in Liz’s tone didn’t match
her words. “And Trevor, you never did say where he went.”

  “Brooklyn needed to spend some time with her dad after his being deployed for seven months. And it’s tough on her when her mom deploys immediately after him.” Why did she feel like she had to make excuses? Will and Brooklyn always went camping to ease the ache during Jan’s first week of deployment. Their lives had been like this long before Liz decided to return. “Trevor is moving this weekend. To Austin. He got a job teaching at a private college up there. He needed a fresh start.”

  “Good for him.” Again, her tone said the opposite. “And, of course, Gracie is off writing somewhere. They both have to recover from getting shafted in the will.”

  “Grace doesn’t feel shafted. She decided a retreat with some writing friends in Wyoming would be a good way to get her fresh start.”

  Liz dumped ranch dressing on her salad and picked up her fork.

  “Let’s say grace before we eat.”

  Hudson and Emma stared at Nina with startled expressions as if she’d just asked them to undress in public.

  “Sure. Sure. You go ahead.” Liz dropped her fork. Her gaze swiveled toward her children. “Don’t act like heathens. Bow your heads.”

  Nina prayed over the food and added a silent request for the right words to make this a fresh start for everyone in the room. “What about you, Hudson, what do you like to do for fun?”

  “Basketball, soccer, baseball. Anything that involves a ball.” The boy dug into the extra-large piece of lasagna Nina had served him. “I’ve made some friends this summer at the Y and they go to the same school so we play pickup basketball every day—”

  “You were here this summer?” Nina’s hand froze over the bread basket. Her hunger receded, replaced with faint nausea. “When did you get to San Antonio?”

  “Fourth of July weekend. We watched the fireworks at Woodlawn Lake, ’cuz they were free. Who knew there was a place in Texas hotter than Houston?”

  “I thought you came here from Baton Rouge.” A few days after Dad’s death, according to Liz.

  “What is this, the third degree?” Liz stuffed a chunk of bread in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “We were in Baton Rouge, we stopped in Houston. We were here and there. It’s not like I kept a diary. I don’t know exactly what day we got here.”

  “It was the day after my birthday.” Emma chimed in. She had sauce on her chin. “Remember, Grandpa bought me an ice cream that day we saw him in the park.”

  Grandpa could only be one person in these children’s lives. Geoffrey Fischer.

  “You said you arrived right after Dad died.” The smell of lasagna turned Nina’s stomach. Her mouth went dry. She took a sip of water and swallowed the lump of sawdust in the back of her throat. “You said you wished you had a chance to talk to him before he died.”

  “You misunderstood.” Liz took a long swallow of soda. She burped behind her hand. “You heard what you wanted to hear.”

  The aroma of bread mingled with the pie’s cinnamon and brown sugar no longer smelled enticing. “My hearing is excellent.”

  “Why are you making such a big deal about this?”

  “Because you lied.” Just like her brother. “You lied about everything. Why?”

  Liz dumped her napkin on her plate. “I don’t have to sit here and take this from my own daughter. Show some respect.”

  Another liar. Dad lied. Liz lied. She couldn’t trust this person. Grace was her mother. Would always be her only real mother. “For a person who’s a pathological liar? You have to earn respect.”

  “That’s what Mom always tells us.” Emma piped up. At least her appetite didn’t seem affected by the tension at the table. Hudson had given up any semblance of trying to eat. “Could I have some more lasagna?”

  “Sure, sweetie.” Nina reached for the spatula.

  “We gotta go.” Liz shoved back her chair. “I just remembered I got a job interview at the Hyatt tomorrow. Nothing fancy like being an art photographer but it’ll pay the rent.”

  “We haven’t had dessert yet.” Emma’s face crumpled. “It’s apple pie.”

  “Don’t punish the kids because you got caught in a lie.” Nina followed Liz to the kitchen where she picked up her bag and stuffed the bottle of wine in it. “Don’t start drinking because of this.”

  “Don’t think so highly of yourself that you think you could drive me to drink.”

  “I’m sorry if I offended you, but you did lie and you know it.” She forced herself to lower her voice. Emma and Hudson didn’t need to hear anymore. “What I can’t understand is why. Why did it matter when you arrived in San Antonio? Why lie about seeing Dad? Why not come to the house and see the rest of us—Jan and me? Why wait until the funeral? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “He’s not your dad.”

  “Then who is?”

  “Beats me, but I am your mother.”

  “Not in any way that counts.”

  Liz bulldozed past Nina. “Come on, you two, let’s go. It’s a school night. Move it.”

  “Liz! Mom!” There. She’d said it. For Hudson’s and Emma’s sakes. They needed family in their lives. They needed someone who didn’t smoke in their faces. Someone who made sure they had haircuts and toothbrushes. Someone who went with them to the library and watched those basketball games. She could swallow her pride for them. She grabbed the apple pie and a plastic bag. Along with her card. It had her cell phone number on it. Trying to slip the pie in the bag without dropping it, she strode after Liz. “At least take the pie with you.”

  Liz already had the front door open. The sauce still smeared on her chin, Emma struggled with her thin Windbreaker. Hudson grabbed the jacket’s arm and jerked it around her. “Mom said to hurry.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Easy. Take this with you.” Nina handed the pie to Hudson, who handled it as if it might explode. She tucked the card in his jeans jacket pocket. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to stay longer. I hope to see you again soon. You’re welcome here. Anytime. If you need anything, call me. I mean that. Anytime.”

  “Sure.” Hudson shook his shaggy head. “Someday.”

  “He isn’t going to need anything from you.” Liz stomped down the front steps without looking back. “Get a move on, you two. Now.”

  “Thank you for the pie.” Emma doled out another sweet hug. The words were whispered. “It was nice to meet you.”

  Good manners. She hadn’t learned those from Liz. Who had raised this little girl? And her big brother. Nina wanted to know more. She wanted to know this girl. She wanted to know Hudson. They needed help. They needed big sisters. Even if it meant putting up with Liz. “I promise to see you again,” she whispered in Emma’s ear. “Soon.”

  Emma’s wan smile reflected all the times promises had been made and broken.

  They swept out the door and were gone.

  Silence.

  “That went well.” The ticky-tackity on the tile announced that Peanuts had followed. Nina scooped him up and buried her face in his fur. “What just happened?”

  Peanuts whined and snuggled closer. “Exactly, lovie.”

  The adrenaline of an entire day of anticipation and preparation fizzled, leaving her flat and tired. The darkroom called to her. The only place where anything made any sense. The kitchen had to be cleaned first. Pearl would have a conniption fit if she saw her pristine, hallowed grounds treated in such a despicable fashion.

  Nina worked fast, driven by thoughts that went around and around. Maybe Liz really didn’t remember when she had arrived, but she couldn’t have forgotten a reunion with Dad. Why would she deny it? Why didn’t he say anything about it? Why lie?

  Despite her best efforts it took almost forty-five minutes to clean the kitchen and store the food. Aaron would be happy with the plethora of leftovers as promised. Of course, she would have to make more pie. Her own plate of food went the way of the garbage disposal. The smell made gorge rise in her throat.

  Her cell phone, pl
ugged into the charger by the cellar door, played “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen. Her ringtone for Aaron. Maybe he could make something of Liz’s erratic behavior.

  “Are they still there? How did it go? I just had to make sure you saved me a big slice of pie—”

  “They’re gone.” Unplugging the phone so she could pace, Nina launched into a description of the evening. She went to the window and stared out. The rain announced its arrival with pitter-patter on the glass. “It was a disaster of epic proportions.”

  “You exaggerate.”

  “No, really, it was.” She turned and found herself face-to-face with Liz.

  And a small black gun.

  Again.

  At least it wasn’t the cannon.

  36

  Liz held the handgun to Peanuts’s head. She shook her head and whispered, “Say a word, he dies, then you die. Politely say good night to your boyfriend.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself.” Aaron’s voice continued, husky and concerned, in Nina’s ear. “I’ll come over and we’ll work on the exhibit. You can tell me all the gory details.”

  Peanuts wiggled and whined. Liz’s fingers turned white as she clenched the dog to her chest in a one-handed grip.

  “I’m exhausted.” Nina didn’t have a problem sounding exhausted. Not sounding terrified, a little more difficult. “Can we talk about this in the morning?”

  “I thought you wanted to work tonight.”

  “It’s been a long day.”

  “No kidding. I worked a three-car accident—”

  “Can you tell me about it in the morning?”

  “Sure. Text me when you wake up. I’ll bring you a bagel and a double espresso.”

  Nina’s stomach heaved. She sidestepped toward the island. It held a wooden block filled with knives. Would she really consider stabbing her own mother?

  Grace was her mother.

  “Stop.” So much evil in one snarled syllable. Peanuts barked. “Hang up.”

  “Did you hear me? What’s wrong with Peanuts?” Aaron sounded confused. “Unless you’d rather have donuts.”