The Lies I've Told

by J. L. Berg

  He’d even said that, hadn’t he?

  And there was that Friends episode where Rachel’s license expired, wasn’t there? So, I mean, if it happened on Friends…

  Searching for a date didn’t take long, and when I found it, my heart sank. It was current.

  Why had he lied to me?

  “Millie, what do you really know about this guy?”

  Jake’s words came crashing back at that moment as I folded the wallet and set it on the dresser. Swallowing my doubt, I listened to Aiden move about the bathroom, and I closed my eyes.

  I know enough, I said to myself.

  And I trust him.

  “Millie?”

  My eyelids parted, and I found him staring at me with concern.

  “Everything all right?”

  Giving him a warm smile, I nodded. “Yes. Perfect.”

  “Good,” he said, leaning into the doorframe, his dark hair still wet from our long shower together “Because I want to take you out to dinner.”

  “Out?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “What’s odd about that?”

  I just smiled, continuing my task of reorganizing my clothes. He watched my effort, and I couldn’t help but laugh as his eyes seemed to follow every undergarment I touched.

  “Going out to dinner in Ocracoke isn’t quite the same as it is in New York.”

  “Oh? Do I need to ask permission from your father? Send you a written invitation first? Or should I arrive at your house in a horse and buggy?”

  I pressed my lips together and gave him an exasperated look. “You’re in a small town in the South, not 1864.”

  “Well then, explain the difference please. I’m afraid my Orphan Annie upbringing hasn’t adequately prepared me on how to properly date a Southern Belle.” For the last few words, he did his best impression of a Southern accent. It was horrible.

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Have I mentioned that I worked outside all day? I’m famished, love.”

  “You know, that’s the first time you’ve called me that when it hasn’t directly related to sex.” I grinned.

  “Is not,” he said.

  My head bobbed up and down. “Is too.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Well, you are almost naked. Are you trying to get out of having a lovely meal with me?”

  “What if we pack a picnic and head to the beach?”

  His face sobered slightly.

  “At night?” he asked.

  I looked to the window and the sun that would soon be setting behind it. “Um, yes. That would be the intention. There’s this great local spot I can take you. It’s a little bit of a hike, but if we leave now, we can get there before it gets dark.”

  “And how will we get back?”

  I shrugged. “There should be enough moonlight.”

  He quickly shook his head. “No.” I could see the wheels in his head working. Thinking. Calculating. “You know, we’ve done things kind of backward.”

  “Backward?”

  “Backward,” he confirmed, stepping forward. I could see determination locked in his gaze. “We slept together. Then, we took a trip together, and I met your family. All that, and we haven’t had a decent meal together.”

  “We had that lovely meal at that barbecue joint in North Carolina,” I replied. “And several meals in New York.”

  He shook his head. “We barely touched our food at that dive in North Carolina. We were too amped up on the sexual tension building between us.”

  “Mmm,” was all I could say.

  “And I’ll admit, the food we ate in New York was excellent, but I was trying to be showy and took you to some of the most well-known places I could think of, which is why I couldn’t hear anything you said the entire time.”

  “Oh good, I thought that was just me!” I laughed.

  He took my hands. “So, please, can I just take my girl out for a nice, quiet meal, where we can enjoy each other’s company over a bottle of wine? And maybe, if that girl is lucky, I’ll buy her an ice cream cone on the way home.”

  “Well”—I grinned—“since you threw ice cream in the deal.”

  He squeezed my hands, leaning forward to place a kiss on my lips. The rough hair along his chin scraped against my cheek; a small price to pay to have his mouth on mine.

  “But I’m warning you, you and I will be the talk of the town tomorrow.”

  “The whole town?”

  I lifted my brow as I nodded. “Welcome to Ocracoke.”

  He smiled, kissing me once more. “As long as everyone knows you’re taken, I’m okay with a little talk.” He put a little more emphasis on the word okay and threw in a wink before heading back to the bathroom.

  I was full of grins, on a high of love…

  Until I saw his wallet dangling on the edge of the dresser.

  “Millie, what do you really know about this guy?”

  Now that I’d seen that valid and very current license in his wallet, a seed of doubt had been planted and I wasn’t sure how I could stop it from growing without confronting him.

  Did I want to know the truth?

  And would things change once I did?

  That was the real question.

  “Are you certain your father isn’t cross with me?” I asked as Millie dragged me to the patio, which had been drenched in red, white, and blue streamers for today’s festivities.

  “For what? Bailing in the middle of dinner before you two could be properly introduced? Or shacking up with his daughter for the past two weeks and not bothering to say hello since?”

  I gulped. “Either. Either will do. But we’ve been introduced. Remember that morning when I cooked them breakfast? That counts, right?”

  “Ah, yes. But you weren’t screwing me then.”

  I grimaced. “Could you not say screwing, so close to him?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he has superpowers or anything. He can’t hear us, Aiden. And, besides, he offered his shed, didn’t he?”

  I glanced out the window, feeling guilty for not going to him sooner, but I didn’t know how to interact with fathers. Or mothers.

  Or families for that matter.

  “He hasn’t been around,” I replied defensively, feeling like the ultimate failure in front of the woman I cared for most in this world. “I would have gladly introduced myself if I’d seen him—”

  Millie turned and stopped, a warm smile on her face as I tried to ignore the patio full of people who had gathered for the Fourth of July celebration the inn put on each year. “I’m messing with you. Honestly, he hasn’t been around much because, unlike my mother, he isn’t enjoying this little respite in their retirement. He’d much rather be watching golf or reading or basically be anywhere but here.”

  “And your mother is just happy to be back in that kitchen again?”

  “Now, you’re getting it.” Her arms wrapped around my waist. “Why are you so nervous? It’s a family cookout with a few extras thrown in.”

  My eyes darted to the window just over her shoulder.

  Where I was from, family cookout consisted of my brothers and me huddled in a circle in the yard, making mud pies.

  “Yes, exactly.”

  A comforting hand reached up to cup my face. “I’m sorry, Aiden. Forgive my insensitivity. Of course you’d be nervous. But don’t worry; it’s going to be great. The food supply will never end; Mom and Molly will make sure of that. Neither will the booze for that matter, thanks to Billy,” she said, giving a nod in the direction of the familiar restaurant owner, who was busy tapping a keg outside. “And I’ll be here to kiss you when the fireworks begin.”

  “You promise?”

  She leaned in, her smile turning to a series of tiny kisses against my lips. “Yes.”

  “Then, that’s all the motivation I need. Let’s go before we make your family vomit,” I said, raising an eyebrow toward the patio.

  She turned to see several members of her family desperately tr
ying to avoid her gaze.

  “Nosy little jerks,” she muttered, making me laugh. “You know we could always spend the evening indoors.”

  “I don’t think so,” I countered. “Besides, this is my adopted homeland. I must pay my respects and wish it a happy birthday like a true American.”

  “With beer and copious amounts of explosives?” She laughed, grabbing my arm as we headed for the patio.

  “Exactly.”

  The moment we walked out into the blazing heat, I took a look around and was immediately amazed by the sheer number of people.

  “It looks like the whole town is here,” I said to Millie.

  “Damn near close,” she replied, waving to several people.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lovell!” Millie exclaimed, leaving my side to greet an elderly couple. She wrapped her arms around them with a warm familiarity before turning to me. “This is Aiden,” she said, pulling me into the small circle.

  “Oh, we’ve already heard so much about you,” Mr. Lovell said, a genuine smile on his worn face.

  That surprised me a bit. Surely, they were just trying to keep me part of the conversation, so I didn’t feel left out.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lovell have been coming to the inn since I was a kid,” Millie informed me.

  “Oh, before that, I’d wager,” Mrs. Lovell said.

  “But you don’t usually come in the middle of the summer, do you?”

  Mr. Lovell, a laid-back sort of fellow dressed in khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, shook his head. “No, not since the kids were young anyway. We try to avoid the rush and come in the late spring or later in the summer, but when we heard your parents were coming out of retirement?” He lifted his arms and shrugged. “Well, we couldn’t pass that up.”

  “Plus, you get to see the newest addition to the McIntyre and Jameson clans,” Millie said, motioning to her sister, who was gently rocking her newborn to sleep inside.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Lovell said, following Millie’s lead. “She’s beautiful. We just became grandparents for the ninth time last month. It never gets old.”

  We continued to make small talk for a few more minutes. Mr. Lovell, like most, took an interest in my work.

  “It’s a shame about the memorial,” he said. “That sort of thing never happens in Ocracoke. Do the police have any leads?”

  Millie shook her head, fiddling with her necklace as she spoke, “No. Macon Greene, one of the police officers in town, said the cameras down there were all pointed toward the ferry and not the memorial—something they’re working on rectifying. But it’s just awful; Aiden’s sculpture was breathtaking.”

  The Lovells agreed.

  “We were here shortly after the dedication last year. The way you captured grief.” He paused. “You must have lost someone very close to you.”

  My chin lifted as I tried not to avert my gaze. “Haven’t we all?” I said.

  He patted me on the shoulder before they excused themselves to refill their drinks. “We look forward to seeing the new one on our next trip in the spring, son.”

  I simply nodded as I watched them walk away.

  “Do you think it will be ready by then?” Millie asked.

  “What? The memorial?”

  Her eyes went to the back of the yard where I’d covered the granite in a large gray tarp.

  “Of course,” I answered, knowing it was a complete lie.

  The first one had taken me nine months, and that hadn’t been dedicated time. Because I’d chosen to work only with primitive tools and not saws or electric blades, everything had moved extra slow, but it was how I had been taught, both by Ben and my mentor. On the original memorial, I’d worked on it intermittently with many other projects sandwiched in between because I needed the steady income.

  Now that I had the money from my gallery showing, I could afford to dedicate one hundred percent of my time to this one project, but even then, I couldn’t guarantee it would be done in a year. My gut churned.

  Or at all.

  Not when my—

  “Hey,” Millie called out, interrupting my thoughts. “You have that faraway look in your eyes.”

  I smiled warmly, tearing my gaze away from the granite pillar in the back of the yard and back to the beautiful woman in front of me.

  “I believe I was promised never-ending liquor and food today,” I said, making her grin almost immediately.

  “Yes, I believe you were.” She tugged on my hand and dragged me to the large card tables decked out in checkered tablecloths. “Right this way,” she said.

  Every inch of the table was covered in food.

  “Please tell me your sister didn’t cook all of this.”

  “Not all, no,” she answered. “But a lot of it. Some was brought by guests because who shows up to a cookout without bringing a side dish?”

  “No one?” I answered, unsure of the right answer since I’d never attended a cookout, nor had I ever heard of the word cookout before this morning.

  “Exactly.”

  We grabbed plates and began picking and choosing what went on them. I mostly just mimicked Millie because I didn’t recognize half of what was being offered. Three-quarters of it was some sort of casserole, and the rest was some sort of meat.

  But it all smelled delicious, which was more than I could say for the majority of the food I had been raised on, so I was happy to try just about anything.

  “Hey,” Millie whined as I scooped up a helping of fresh green salad and dropped it on her plate.

  “You don’t have a single vegetable on your plate,” I protested.

  She looked down. “Sure I do. See?” She was pointing to a casserole with a scattering of corn covered in cheese.

  “That does not count.”

  “I don’t like salad!”

  “What will it take for a small one? Just a serving?” I asked, grabbing the tongs and snapping them shut like alligator teeth in front of her.

  She simply rolled her eyes but gave in to my games. “You so owe me. The things I’m going to make you do to me tonight…” Letting out an exasperated sigh, she continued, “Fine, but know this salad is about to be covered in a considerable amount of ranch dressing.”

  I tried not to laugh. “It’s a start.”

  We made our way to a grouping of tables that had been set out for today’s event. Seated across from us were Dean, Cora, and Jake.

  “Hey, guys!” Dean greeted us. “Happy Fourth!”

  “Hey Dean, Cora!” Millie said, giving a double wave after she set down her heavy plate.

  I noticed she specifically hadn’t said hi to her brother-in-law, and I wondered if there was something going on there that I didn’t know about. But, before I even had the chance to think it through, she was already shifting gears.

  “I’m going to go get drinks. Please don’t embarrass Aiden too much before I get back!”

  I settled into my seat, giving a polite nod as they looked on. “I wonder if she knows that, by calling me out, I actually feel more embarrassed.”

  They all looked at each other and grinned.

  “Oh, she knows.” Jake laughed.

  I nodded my head. “I should have known. Little minx. So, what were you talking about before I sat down and made things awkward?”

  “Oh, you didn’t make things awkward, but we were actually discussing our wedding plans,” Dean said.

  “Oh, lovely. When is the big day?” I asked, happy to discuss anything that didn’t revolve around me.

  “The day after Christmas,” Dean answered confidently.

  His bride though didn’t look so sure.

  “Why do I feel like I walked into the middle of an argument?”

  Dean chuckled. “It’s not an argument. Cora wants a winter wedding and with her daughter—”

  “Our daughter,” Cora corrected him.

  “Our daughter’s”—he smiled warmly—“school schedule, Christmas time is the perfect time to do it. Everyone is already gathered together.”

/>   I nodded. “Plus the added bonus of built-in decorations.”

  His eyes fell to his fiancée, whose face scrunched. “You would think that, huh?”

  “Not into Christmas decor?” I asked,

  “Remember how I geeked out over your accent at the restaurant that one day over lunch?”

  I chuckled. “How could I forget? Who do I sound like again? Was it The Doctor, Harry Potter, or someone from Sherlock Holmes?”

  “Sherlock Holmes! I didn’t even think of that one!” she exclaimed.

  Dean wrapped an arm around his soon-to-be wife as Jake just chuckled in the background. I wondered what was taking Millie so long but immediately caught a glimpse of her at the drink table, chatting it up with Billy. She’d once told me during one of our late-night chats that you couldn’t go anywhere in this town without being derailed by someone.

  Apparently, that also included getting drinks at a cookout.

  “I’m going to just stop right here and apologize for my fiancée. What’s she’s trying to say is, our wedding isn’t going to be a normal one.”

  “So, like a comic-book wedding dress and a lightsaber cake?”

  Jake’s laugh grew, and from the yelp he let out, I was guessing his mate Dean had kicked him under the table.

  “Just ask him how he proposed,” Jake managed to say before Dean replied to my question, “I’m sure, if her dad had his way, that’s how it would go. Cora’s interests tend to be more book-centered, and mine lie in the ocean, being a fisherman and all. So, we’re having the ceremony at the marina and the reception here. Lots of stacked vintage books and shells.”

  “Well, there’s nothing geeky about that,” I said.

  “We might throw in some lightsabers in the end.” Cora added.

  “There we go.” I laughed.

  “What are we talking about?” Millie asked as she finally returned, carrying two large red cups filled to the brim with beer.

  “Dean and Cora’s crazy wedding,” Jake answered with a wry grin.

  “Yeah, when is that?” Millie asked.

  “December twenty-sixth,” I answered. “Or is it?”

  Dean and Cora looked at each other, some sort of couple communication passing between them.