Lizbet's Lie

by Brenda Maxfield

  She ran her hands over it and grinned. "I want to look my best tonight."

  "Dating is frowned upon around here."

  "So you've said."

  "You can't spend the whole evening with Ned."

  She looked at me from under her thick made-up lashes.

  I leaned forward and took her arm. "I'm serious. It's frowned upon, and Momma will have my hide."

  "Why should she have your hide if you're not the one doing anything?"

  I blew out my breath. "Right now, I'm being blamed for everything."

  "Does she know I like Ned?"

  "She knows. But even worse, she knows Ned likes you."

  Farah jumped off the bed and twirled around the room. "He does, doesn't he?"

  I never figured Farah for the twirling type. Seemed much too silly for her standards. "Yeah, he does."

  She flounced back onto the bed and grabbed both of my hands. "Is she mad?"

  "She's mad all right."

  "I'm not such a bad person."

  "To her, you are." I clapped my hand over my mouth. I hadn't intended to be quite so frank.

  She pulled my hand off my mouth and dropped it back to my lap. "Oh, don't stress yourself. I can take it. I've been a bad person most of my life, so why should now be any different?"

  "You haven't been bad to me."

  She rose, walked to the window, and looked out. "How do you know? I'm sly and evil."

  I couldn't tell if she was making a joke or not. She wasn't smiling, and she kept her eyes averted.

  I got up and stood next to her, looking out the window too. The landscape was changing. Everything was greening up, and the trees were budded out with tiny pink blossoms. Most days now, the sky was blue and clear. Birds fluttered around with long pieces of string or grass draped from their beaks.

  "We're both sly and evil then. Both of us." My voice was soft, as if speaking in church.

  Farah reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze.

  We turned away from the window and dressed for the party.

  ****

  Farah insisted I wear her black top again with my jeans. She also insisted on fixing my hair.

  "I don't understand why you won't let me cut it. You know it looks a whole lot better shorter."

  "I don't want to deal with the fallout. It would push Momma over the edge."

  "Well, I refuse to let you wear that stupid rolling pin design on top of your head. Hey, hand me my brush again."

  She yanked and pulled and braided and pinned until my head was sore. Finally, she patted my head. "Lizbet, look in the mirror."

  I took a deep breath.

  She pointed. "The mirror. Now."

  I walked to the mirror on the wall next to my closet. An involuntary gasp escaped my lips. She'd swept my hair up off my neck in a mixture of braids and swirls.

  I looked beautiful.

  I reached up to touch it.

  "You mess it up, and I'll kill you," Farah said, but her tone was pleased. She joined me at the mirror and peered at my reflection. "You look hot."

  I nudged her in the ribs. "No, I don't."

  "Then you're blind, girl, because I performed a miracle on you."

  Rarely had I taken pleasure in how I looked. In fact, I couldn't remember once, besides the time I'd cut off some of my hair at the Home. And that pleasure had been more for having the guts to cut my hair instead of pleasure in how I looked. I stared at my reflection again and felt warmth start in my stomach and crawl all over me.

  I turned and gave Farah a hug. In surprise, she backed up and fidgeted.

  "I know. You only hug guys," I said.

  She swished her hand through the air in dismissal. "Ah, whatever. I've hugged you before. We'll make another exception." She reached out and gave me a quick squeeze. "All right, Hot Lizbet. Are you ready to party?"

  I laughed. "I'd hardly call church skating a party, but it's probably as close to one as I'm going to get."

  Farah tossed her thin sweater over her shoulders and grabbed her purse. "Shall we go down?"

  I glanced at myself one last time then nodded. "We shall," I said in my best formal voice.

  We both giggled and walked out of my room and down the stairs together. Ned was standing near the door, waiting for us. His eyes lit up when he saw Farah.

  The color in her cheeks heightened, and she went over to him and punched on his arm. "You're making me blush. This is embarrassing. I think you're turning me into a modest girl."

  Ned took her elbow and steered her through the screen door. I hurried after them, shutting the locked door behind me. Dad and Momma and the kids were outside by the car. When they saw us emerge, they all climbed in.

  Except Momma.

  She stood by the passenger door and watched. She was a hawk — surveying, judging, plotting.

  "Momma, why don't I take Farah and Lizbet in the truck?" Ned called over to her. "There's not enough room in the car anyway."

  Every muscle on Momma's face tightened, and she braced her hand against the car.

  Ned didn't wait for an answer. He gave a gentle push to both Farah and me and guided us to the truck. He opened the door and helped us with the high step into the cab.

  Momma hadn't moved. I heard Regie holler at her through the window. "Get in, Momma. We're gonna be late."

  With a smooth move, Ned hoisted himself into the driver's seat. He started the truck, and we drove off.

  I assumed Momma finally got into the car.

  ****

  Eastside Skating Rink was on the border of Edgemont, but on the opposite side from where we usually drove into town. Instead of taking the highway around the perimeter, Ned went straight through Edgemont.

  "Do you want to see where I'm living right now?" Farah asked me.

  "Sure. Your dad's apartment, right?"

  Farah put her hand on Ned's arm. "Will you drive by?"

  Ned glanced at her. "Sure."

  From the level of affection in Ned's expression, I think she could have asked him to drive to Canada, and he would've turned north in a flash. But she didn't ask, so he swung the truck down Long Street.

  "The apartment isn't bad. I have my own room, of course. But I have to use the main bathroom, which is a fat pain."

  "At least you don't have to share it with four other people," I said. "Especially Susie. She primps in there for hours."

  Farah reached up and patted my hair. "You might be doing the same from now on."

  "We don't primp," Ned said. At Farah's snort, he continued. "I'm not kidding. A person's character is what matters, not their looks."

  Farah tugged on his sleeve. "So, you're saying that you don't like looking at me after I've just primped for an hour? You're saying I could be as ugly as an old boot and you wouldn't care?"

  A deep flush covered Ned's cheeks.

  Farah slapped his arm. "I'm just playing! I know your community is backwards."

  "Farah," I interrupted. "It's not that we're backwards. We're conservative."

  She looked at me and shook her head. "After everything you've been through, you're going to rush to their defense?" The look of pity and disgust in her eyes made me shut up. Her gaze held mine.

  Ned cleared his throat. "Let's talk about something else."

  Farah sighed, pressed herself against the back of the seat, and stared out the windshield. "Fine by me."

  "You can meet Winter," I said, scrambling for something to say. "She's my friend from forever."

  Farah nodded. "That'll be nice." Her voice was painfully polite.

  Ned adjusted his rearview mirror. "We're almost there," he said.

  Farah arched forward. "There." She pointed. "Over there."

  I followed her gesture and saw a small apartment building with maybe ten units. It was brick with a crisp, modern look. The gardener had to be obsessive-compulsive because every blade of grass was in place, and an array of early spring flowers tumbled precisely out of various cement containers.

  "See the
window up there?" Farah pointed again. "That's my room. Ned, you can circle around and then double back toward the skating rink."

  Ned drove around the back of the apartment into an expansive parking area. We were making a sharp right when Farah jerked forward, gasped, and grabbed Ned's arm.

  "It's her," she cried. "Stop the truck."

  Ned slammed on the brakes, and all of us jolted forward against our seatbelts.

  "Look at her."

  Ned and I scanned the lot. I didn't see anyone.

  "There, under the carport." Farah's voice was low.

  Then I saw her. She leaned inside the passenger's door of a sedan and then backed out of the car and stood tall. She hiked a large, bulky purse higher onto her shoulder and readjusted four or five shopping bags in her arms. With a smooth swish of her hip, she bumped the car door closed. Thick blond hair fell over her face, covering her right eye. She drew herself up another inch, put on a happy smile, and then walked off toward the apartment building.

  "Who is it?" I asked.

  "Her."

  "Who is her?" Ned asked.

  "My dad's girlfriend. Oh, he denies it, but the minute I'm out of his sight, there she is. I've known he has a girlfriend. He just doesn't want to admit it. That was Dad's car she was digging in." Farah craned her neck to follow the woman's progress. "And that's the entrance my dad goes in.” She flopped back against the seat. "Well, well, well. I guess he's having a fine weekend. Bet he couldn't wait to get me out of the house."

  Ned and I exchanged glances. Farah sighed. "It doesn't matter. Ned, let's go."

  Chapter Eleven

  Ned drove out of the lot and headed back through town toward the skating rink. "I'm sorry, Farah."

  "I don't blame him. My mom is a shrew. Who could blame him for looking elsewhere?"

  We were quiet the rest of the way to the rink. The lot was almost full by the time we turned in. Ned found a spot toward the back and parked.

  I looked over at Farah. "You okay?"

  She leaned over me and opened the door. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be? Let's go."

  I half slid, half jumped out of the truck. Johnny would be inside. So would Winter. I reached up and ran my hand over my hair, feeling the tight braids and twisted curls Farah had worked on so hard. I wondered what Johnny and Winter would think.

  Farah and Ned were a ways behind me. I turned to urge them to catch up, but they seemed to be in such an intense conversation, I changed my mind and went ahead on my own. The wooden door to the rink had to be at least six inches thick. I pulled with all of my weight to open it. The salty popcorn smell hit me the minute I walked in, and I heard the clink and roll of skates and the hollering of kids.

  I walked to the long counter that curved against the wall, where hundreds of framed photos of skaters hung at crazy angles.

  "My dad paid for me," I told the scrawny guy whose face was covered with blotches of fresh acne.

  "Who's your dad?"

  "Greg Morgan," I yelled over the loud disco music.

  He ran his finger down a tablet next to the cash register. "Yeah, here it is. Says there are three."

  I nodded. "The other two are right behind me. I need a size seven." I pointed to the rows of skates behind him.

  He swirled and grabbed a pair and plunked them with a clap onto the counter. "Knock yourself out."

  Ned and Farah came up behind me.

  "Dad already paid," I said close to Ned's ear. "I'll meet you on the rink."

  I glanced at Farah. Her face had a shiny glow, and her eyes flashed happily. Whatever she and Ned had talked about on the way in had erased her solemn mood.

  I found an empty low wooden bench and sat down to remove my shoes. Sprinkles of silver light flashed over and around me from the disco ball in the center of the rink, where puffs of fog poured out over the floor. There'd been no fog at last year's church party, so the fog machine must have been new.

  I pulled on my skates and laced them up.

  "Lizbet, you came." Winter rolled up and grabbed my legs to stop herself. She laughed. "Sorry, not so good on the skates. Hey, who did your hair?"

  "You like it?"

  She spun around and sank down next to me. "Who's the red-haired girl with Ned?"

  "Farah."

  Her eyes stretched wide. "The pregnant girl?" Her voice climbed at the end, giving a cartoon-like sound to her question.

  "Be quiet," I said. "She'll hear you."

  The song stopped blasting the moment I spoke, leaving only the sounds of rolling wheels echoing across the floor. There was a smattering of applause on the rink, and then the jabbering resumed.

  "Who will hear what?" Farah asked, joining us. Ned sat on the bench across from me and removed his shoes.

  "Nothing," I said, too quickly and too loud. "Farah, this is my friend Winter."

  "Hey, Winter. Nice to meet you." Farah smiled and then swished her thick hair behind her ears to get it out of the way. She bent over and put on her skates.

  Winter looked her up and down, and the muscles around her mouth tightened noticeably. "Nice to meet you, too," she said in a voice that had somehow shrunk.

  "Hurry up, Farah. They're starting a new set," Ned said. He already had his skates on and was standing. He reached over to pull Farah to her feet.

  I stared. Was he going to hold her hand in plain view of everyone from church? Momma would have a tizzy fit.

  Farah stood up and wobbled a minute on her skates. She left her hand in his, and they skated off to the rink.

  Winter's mouth dropped open. "They're holding hands?"

  My mouth was open, too. I clamped it shut and watched the two of them enter the rink. Farah's legs splayed out. Her obvious effort to control them wasn't working. Ned laughed and held her hand as if to never let go. I scanned the area for Momma and the rest of the family. I located Momma not in the rink, but back in the corner of the rest area, bending over Regie, whose legs stuck straight out while Momma laced up her skates. Judd, Dad, and Susanna were nowhere to be seen.

  I glanced to the rink and finally spotted the three of them. Judd and Dad skated side by side. Susanna was up ahead, zipping around and between the other skaters. In a minute, she'd be upon Ned and Farah. I stood and craned my neck. I didn't want to miss her reaction to them holding hands.

  Susanna whirred through the last clump of skaters behind Farah and Ned, and there it was. Even from a distance, I saw her gaze latch onto their hands, and her eyes bug out. They looped the circle, and I lost sight of them.

  I couldn't help but giggle. Winter pulled me down to the bench. "What is so funny? Are you laughing at your brother? Your mom is gonna have his skin."

  I lowered my head and continued to laugh. "I know," I said. "She sure is."

  "How is that funny?"

  I looked at Winter, my best friend since we were tiny. I pulled my expression back to seriousness. "You're right. It's not funny at all."

  But I couldn't hold it. I giggled again.

  Winter stood up with a huff. "Lizbet, I don't know what's the matter with you. I don't even know you anymore."

  She skated off, and I watched her go.

  She didn't know me anymore. How could she when I didn't even know myself?

  Momma and Regie joined everyone on the rink. Regie grabbed onto the back of Momma's blouse and hung on with a death look on her face. Momma pulled her around the rink with slow, even strides.

  I hadn't seen Johnny yet, but then I hadn't tried. I entered the rink and was swept up into a group of elementary kids.

  "Hey Lizbet," called a little guy named Robert. His brown, spiky hair stuck out like needles on a cactus. "Come on and skate with me. I'm gonna fall." And kerplunk, he did fall, right in the middle of everyone. Like dominoes, three kids toppled over him.

  "Get me up!" he yelled. "I'm squished! Get me up!"

  I peeled the kids from him one by one. I brushed them off and sent the three of them on their way. Robert sat on the polished wooden floor with a dazed look on
his face. "I almost died."

  I knelt beside him and snickered. "No, you didn't almost die, silly boy. You just got smooshed a bit. Give me your hand, and I'll help you up."

  A few adults slowed down to watch, then pushed off again, evidently satisfied both of us would survive. I yanked Robert up. He was surprisingly heavy for a little kid.

  "I'm not too good at this," he complained.

  I heard the swoosh of wheels behind me and felt two hands on my back. "Me either," Johnny said and laughed. Once he was safely stopped, he took his hands from my back. "Sorry for using you as brakes, Lizbet. Robert, you be careful now."

  "Okay, Johnny," Robert replied and took a cautious slide away from us.

  Johnny dug the toes of his skates into the floor. "Hi, Lizbet. You came."

  "Yeah, I did. The whole family is here. Farah, too."

  We skated together, slowly circling the rink. We were passed on both sides. I wondered whether Johnny wanted me to go faster so we wouldn't be side by side, or whether he wanted to talk to me. I glanced over at him and saw the familiar twitch at the corner of his mouth.

  "Lizbet…"

  "Yes?" I answered too quickly.

  "About earlier, our walk…"

  "Yes?"

  "I'm sorry. I had no right, well, I was only trying…" His words jolted out with obvious discomfort. My own echoing unease rose. Was this an apology or an excuse to keep judging me?

  I skated over to the rail and dug my skates into the floor to stop. He swished up next to me, hitting his skates on the rail wall.

  "Lizbet, please. I'm trying to apologize."

  I narrowed my eyes and studied his face. He did have a sort of pleading look, but that wasn't all. I detected bits of anger behind there somewhere. "You're sorry? For blaming me for something that wasn't my fault?" My words surprised me. I'd managed to say it out loud. It wasn't my fault.

  Anybody skating by could have heard me. For a split second, I didn't care. I had a billowing urge to repeat it a hundred times louder and louder.

  Of course, I didn't. My eyes darted through the crowd, looking for Farah. I wanted to tell her she was right. She'd been right all along.