I didn't care. Let her gasp.
"I wish I could come every weekend and stay with you guys," Farah said. Ned leaned around her and gave me a look.
"I saw that," Farah said. "I know it could never happen, but I can wish, can't I? Besides, I haven't had time to do any magic on your mother."
"Momma is magic-less," I said. "Might as well save your energy."
Farah laughed. "A challenge, then. Even better."
Her tone was playful and excited, and I didn't have the heart to tell her Momma was beyond a challenge. Momma's soul had soured and wrinkled since the… I didn't even know what to call it. The incident. The shame. My sin.
What I called it didn't matter. The fact remained that everyone who knew about it had changed. And not for the better.
Farah cranked up the radio and groaned when country western blasted out. "You've got to be kidding." She turned the chipped knob through stations that crackled and sputtered.
Ned reached out, covered her hand with his fingers, and turned the knob back to where it had been. "It's the only station this old radio picks up."
"What a waste," she said, but she was smiling. "How can I sing along when I don't know the words?"
"You'll think of something," Ned said.
She sat back and put her hands in her lap. "I always do."
I couldn't help but smile. She was right; she always did.
Close to Edgemont, we pulled into the first fast food place we came to and piled out of the truck. Farah dawdled at the door, and I was sure she was waiting for Ned to come around. When he did, she latched onto his arm. I walked ahead.
The restaurant was crowded. Looking through the huge windows, I saw that nearly every table and booth were full. I pushed through the doors. The line at the counter wasn't too bad. I joined it and studied the menu on the wall, deciding to go for a strawberry milkshake instead of fries. The door swooshed behind me, and I heard Farah's laugh.
A quick movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I jerked around, but saw only the edge of a gray jacket as someone dashed out the opposite side of the place. A cold rush of air swirled around me and I felt faint, teetering a bit. Ned grabbed my arm. "What's wrong? You okay?"
I regained my footing. "Yeah, I got cold all of a sudden."
"Being cold doesn't make you fall over," Ned said. He squeezed my arm and looked into my eyes. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Do you want some fries?"
"I want a strawberry milkshake."
Farah stepped next to Ned. "Ohhh. That sounds wonderful. I'll have one with my fries."
Ned snickered, his attention back on Farah. Then he spoke to the girl behind the counter. "Three milkshakes and two fries." He paid her.
"I need to use the bathroom," I said to Farah and hurried off. I went inside the stall and leaned against the hollow metal divider. What had happened out there? It reminded me of when my grandma would shudder violently and say someone had walked over her grave.
Had someone walked over mine?
Stupid. Stupid. I was being ridiculous. I stayed, resting against the divider for a few more minutes. Then I pulled a long strip of toilet paper off the roll and wadded it up. I ran it over my face and then flushed it down the toilet. I needed to get back out there, or both Farah and Ned would worry.
On second thought, maybe Farah wouldn't. She seemed completely wrapped up in Ned and was probably glad I'd left so she could have him to herself.
But as I was leaving, she pushed on the other side of the door and almost knocked me flat.
"Whoa," I cried and grabbed the wall.
She nudged me back over to the sink. "Are you sick? What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Lizbet, you don't lie, remember?" She tsked her tongue against her lips. "Which is a tremendous loss if you ask me."
"I saw someone leave the restaurant, and then cold air gushed at me."
She tilted her head and scrutinized me. After a long moment she said, "I don't get how that's weird, Lizbet. First of all, people leave places like this every three minutes, and they have to go outside, so of course there'd be a gush of air."
I walked back over to the door. "Yes, you're right. Of course. It was nothing."
Chapter Ten
I walked back out to the eating area. Outside, the weather was working toward spring, and it wasn't cold. Not like the rush of air I'd felt. Something had happened before I dashed to the bathroom, and I couldn't figure out what.
Forty-five minutes later, the three of us meandered back out to Ned's truck.
"I have a brilliant idea," Farah said. "Let's go to Pete's apartment, and I'll knock on his door. When he answers, I'll turn sideways so he can see I'm no longer pregnant, and then I'll waltz off without a word."
Ned stopped walking. He looked at her, and his eyes widened. "You want to do what?"
Farah tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. "Don't be so shocked, Ned. I think I deserve to mess with him after the way he treated me."
"But Farah, why would you want to see him?" I asked.
Her back stiffened, and hardness etched lines around her mouth. She looked at Ned, then at me. "Because I'm not made like you two. I don't forgive so easy. He promised to take care of me and the baby, and he dumped us both. He doesn't even know I gave the baby to the Millers. He doesn't even know I've had the baby. I want him to sweat."
"Didn't he sign papers giving the baby away?" Ned asked.
"Name of father: Unknown," Farah answered.
I grabbed her arm. "You didn't list him as father?"
"Why should I? He gave up his rights when he dumped me. Besides the adoption people took care of all the legal stuff for me. To be honest, I don't know everything they did. All I know is I wanted the Millers to have the baby. The poor couple couldn't go through another disaster like Jasmyn's baby dying on them."
"But why would you ever want to see that jerk Pete again?" Ned asked, and his tone was low, almost a growl.
Farah's eyes darted to him, and she stared for a long moment. Then her expression softened, and contentment settled on her face. "He's a jerk, all right. But still, I wouldn't mind torturing him."
"How would him seeing you be a torture?" I asked. "Seems to me it would only torture you."
"I agree with Lizbet," Ned said. "Come on. We're going home."
"I guess Mr. Boss-Everyone-Around has spoken," Farah said. But I could tell she wasn't mad. In fact, she looked happy.
Momma was waiting for us on the porch. When we rolled into the driveway, she jumped up and fussed with the bulbs in her planters — like she'd been gardening when it was nearly dark. Who was she kidding?
Ned parked the truck and jumped down. Farah went right over to her. "Mrs. Morgan, your flowers are coming up so nicely." Farah leaned over the plants, and her hair fell over her shoulders like a veil. Ned watched her. A tender smile played on his lips. I'd never seen such an expression of yearning on his face.
If Momma noticed him now, she'd stop breathing and fall dead right there on the porch.
But she wasn't noticing. She was showing Farah the different crocuses and the daffodils coming up. Was Farah possibly working her magic on Momma?
"My mother never plants a thing," Farah said. "Lizbet is lucky to have you as her mother. We used to have a gardener when I was little. He didn't do much with flowers, but we did have some bushes. No gardener anymore. Not much of anything anymore."
Farah's voice faded into a sniffle. She was overdoing it, and Momma wasn't stupid. To my surprise, Momma put her arm around Farah's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. My eyes nearly popped from my head. Farah glanced at me and then averted her eyes, but not before I saw her tears.
I sucked in my breath. It was for real. Farah was about to cry for real.
Farah was tough. Tougher than any girl I knew. She didn't get gushy. Yet there she was, talking about flowers and ready to cry. I took a step closer, and Farah dashed through the door a
nd into the house.
Momma's hand came out of the pot she was bending over, and she watched Farah leave. She looked at me with her cold assessing eyes, all evidence of tenderness gone. She moved toward me and whispered, "I don't particularly like that girl. Sunday can't come too soon."
I recoiled as if slapped. "What are you talking about? You were just goo-gooing over her."
Momma untied her apron and pulled it from her waist, wadding it into a tight ball. "I smell trouble."
I pushed by her into the house. She smelled trouble? Why hadn't she smelled trouble when she'd left me alone in the house with that pig of a man?
I blinked as my tears threatened to come and took the stairs two at a time to my bedroom. Farah was sitting at my desk, gazing out the window.
"That was fun," she said and pulled open a drawer to peer inside. "What do you want to do?"
I sat on my bed and watched her. "Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" She laughed, but it came out like a cough.
"You almost cried down there with my mom."
She glared at me. "So, you have a nice mom. Big deal."
I drew my legs up and rested my chin on my knees. "Until lately."
"At the Home, you always talked about how nice she was. She's light-years nicer than my mother, The Evil Witch."
"You shouldn't call her a witch."
Farah shoved the drawer closed with a bang. "Yeah, I should." She walked over to my bed and joined me.
"Do you think I'm dangerous to my sisters?"
Farah gawked at me. "What does that mean? You have pregnancy germs? Or giving birth germs? Or rape germs?"
I winced and buried my head in my knees. A rolling tide of pressure built in my chest and if I moved, it would explode and I would break into a million pieces.
Farah leaned close. "I shouldn't have said that."
I didn't move.
"Lizbet, I don't know what you mean by being dangerous."
Someone down the street revved a car engine, and kids yelled out front by the road. They were probably riding by on their bikes.
"Lizbet?"
"She thinks I'll be a bad influence. That I'll taint them somehow."
Farah touched my shoulder and I cringed. Feeling stupid for my reaction, I lowered my legs and stretched them out over the side of the bed. I looked at her.
"Let's get ready for bed," I said.
"Fine. Who's sleeping on the mattress and who's sleeping on the floor?" Farah patted the mattress.
"We can squish into the bed. I've done it before with Winter."
Farah stood and ran her hands down her sides. "Now that we've got our figures back, I guess we'll fit." She widened her eyes into a dorky expression.
I laughed. "Yeah, but I never had much of a figure to start with."
She picked up a pillow and threw it at me. "Sure you did. You just buried it under those pathetic clothes of yours."
I caught the pillow and threw it back. We stared at each other for a second and then both of us cracked up laughing.
Farah, Farah, Farah, so good to see you again.
****
Farah and I managed to sleep with only a slice of mattress each. I awoke to the spicy smell of sausage and threw off the covers.
"Hey," Farah complained and yanked the blankets back over herself.
"Breakfast is already cooking, and I'm not down there helping." I scurried around the bed to my dresser.
Farah buried deeper under the covers and groaned. "Too early."
I went over and pulled the covers from her again. "You told Momma you'd help with chores. She remembers things like that. Come on."
Farah groaned again and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her tangled hair framed her face like an adorable hat. I threw her the shirt and pants she'd left in a heap on the floor the previous night.
I was fully clothed before she even had her top changed.
"Hurry up, Farah."
"Don't rush me. Ned will be down there, won't he? I can't go down looking like something dragged behind one of your tractors."
I stood still. Sometimes I was so dumb. I didn't even think about her wanting to fix up for my brother. "No, I guess you don't. I have to go, though. I'll see you downstairs."
I left her peering into the mirror and rubbing at the corners of her eyes. I flew down the stairs, but when I entered the kitchen, I saw the table was already set, the juice made, and the sausage patties balanced in a tidy stack.
Momma looked up from the stove, where she was pouring pancake batter. "You're late."
"Sorry, Momma. We overslept. Farah will be down in a second, and don't worry, we'll do all the dishes."
"I'm not worried."
At least not about the dishes.
Judd wandered in from outside. "Where's the girl?" he asked.
"Her name is Farah," Susanna said, coming in from the living room. "And she likes our Ned."
My eyes flew to Momma in time to see every muscle down her body stiffen. The pancake batter kept flowing and nearly slopped over onto the burner. Momma jerked her hand and set the bowl on the counter. The glass bottom clattered.
Susanna gave a triumphant half-smile and skirted around me to the sink.
Judd walked to the stove and pointed to the huge sloppy pancake. "I want that one."
Farah came trotting down the steps with a cheery "Good morning!"
Susanna smirked, and Judd gave Farah a shy glance. Momma turned from the stove and scrutinized her up and down. Farah wasn't wearing the clothes I'd tossed her. Instead, she had on a pair of tight black jeans and a cropped sweater over a deep navy turtleneck. Her red hair had been brushed to brilliance, and the effect was stunning.
Regie padded down the stairs behind her. "You look so pretty," she said, and Momma stiffened all over again.
Farah turned and gathered Regie up in a hug. "Thank you, little princess." She laughed. "You're a great ego boost in the morning."
Farah set her down and then looked around the room — for Ned, no doubt.
Momma noticed her searching glance and huffed. "Some help would be nice." She turned to the stove and slid the spatula under the pancakes to flip them.
"Dibs on the huge one," Judd said.
"I want the huge one, too," Regie said, walking to the stove.
"You'll both get what I serve you," Momma said. Her voice brooked no argument, and everybody shut up.
We sat down at the table, Farah on the left where Momma had pulled up an extra chair. A shiver crept up my spine. That's where she'd put the extra chair when he'd stayed with us. The exact same place. His leering face filled my mind. I jolted up so quickly my chair skittered behind me and almost fell over. Everyone stared.
"Lizbet, for heaven's sake, what's the matter with you? Sit down at once before the food gets cold."
I lowered myself back to my chair and looked around at everyone's eyes. Farah grabbed the pitcher of juice and smiled. "Anybody want some juice? I'll pour."
Judd held out his glass. "Me. I want some."
Farah and I exchanged looks, and I could tell she was protecting me. She didn't know from what. She just knew. I saw it in her eyes.
Ned and Dad walked in from the side door. "What smells so good?" Dad asked.
"Huge pancakes," Regie said. "Judd stole the biggest, but I want a big one, too."
Dad walked around the table and patted Regie's head. "Momma, will you make the little girl a big pancake?"
Momma huffed again and tromped to the stove. The batter sizzled on the pan as she poured another huge pancake. Regie gave a mile-wide grin and wiggled back in her chair to wait.
"Sleep well, Ned?" Farah asked. "Want some juice?"
Ned's eyes locked into hers, and the air around them became magnetic. I shifted in my chair and wondered if everyone else felt it, too. Susanna scowled, so I figured she did. Judd was happily inhaling his pancake, and Dad was washing his hands at the sink.
Farah's cheeks were flushed, and Ned finally tore his eyes from
her and looked at me. There was something helpless in his expression that filled me with a quick sadness. He was crazy about her. Crazy.
Momma saw it, and her lips curled her back from her teeth. Her eyes flew to mine, and the animosity toward me grabbed my gut. I blinked rapidly and dropped my gaze to my plate. The image blurred, and I willed myself not to cry.
Farah's chair screeched, and I gazed back up to watch. She rose and circled the table to pour Ned some juice. Ned nodded at her, and she smiled. She must have realized we were all staring because she quickly poured juice into Judd's glass, too.
"Anyone else?" she asked, holding out the pitcher as if serving the whole family had been her intention all along.
Dad finished washing up, sat with a contented sigh, and then picked up his glass and guzzled his juice. He offered its emptiness to Farah. "Wouldn't mind some more," he said.
Farah scurried over and refilled his glass. She glanced at Momma. Then she held the pitcher to her chest and came back around and sat down.
Regie and Judd kept the banter going through the rest of the meal. No one else made a sound except for the pained sighs that escaped Susanna's mouth every thirty seconds or so.
****
I thought it best to keep a low profile the rest of the day. Farah and I took a long walk nowhere and then spent the afternoon in my room. The skating party was to start at five o'clock. All of us planned to eat hotdogs there for dinner.
"I don't particularly like hotdogs," Farah told me as she brushed through her hair for the millionth time.
"I could make you a sandwich or something before we leave."
"Nah, but thanks anyway. Now, tell me again. Who's going to be at the skating rink?"
"Most of the people from our church. We rent the whole rink so there won't be any outsiders."
Farah's hair crackled, and a few strands floated in the air as if performing in a magic show. I laughed. "You better stop brushing your hair. You've got enough static electricity there to light up a barn."
Lizbet's Lie Page 12