Living Lies

by Dawn Brown

  “Cut it out,” she snapped.

  Paige folded her arms over her chest. “This is going to take all night.”

  “I’m working as fast as I can.” She moved to another drawer. How many pink sweaters could one person own?

  Paige sighed and left the door, moving into the closet on the far side of the room.

  “What are you doing?”

  “This is taking too long. She’s going to wake up soon. I haven’t fed her since this morning.”

  “You make her sound like a pet.” Oh God, Michelle’s underwear drawer. There had to be something sacrilegious about routing through her dead sister’s delicates.

  “She ties you down like one,” Paige said over the din of wire hangers scraping the metal rod. “Only without the loyalty and affection.”

  Haley sighed. “Do you think we could get through one task without arguing?”

  “I’m not arguing, I’m simply stating fact. Taking care of a rabid pit bull would be more rewarding than looking after her.”

  “She’s our mother.”

  “Then she should act like it.”

  Haley closed her eyes and counted to ten. She could do this. She could spend a few hours with her only living sister and not be drawn into a fight. Of course, if said sister were not so damn provoking that would make her resolution a little easier to live up to. “She has a disease, Paige.”

  “A disease you enable.”

  Screw resolutions! “You waltz in here after four years without so much as a phone call and lecture me like you suddenly have all this insight. What? Have you been watching Dr. Phil in your time off?”

  Paige poked her head out of the closet. “Why didn’t you take the phone?”

  Just like Paige to change the subject when she might lose the argument. “Because I’m a grown woman and I can buy my own damn phone.”

  “You’re going to blow it with him.”

  “Was that not you, standing in my house two days ago ranting about my taste in men?”

  “I was mistaken. He’s a decent guy, he’s hot and, for some reason I’ve yet to figure out, he actually likes you.”

  Something tight and bitter gripped her heart. “We have our own lives. Whatever this is between us is just for now.”

  “He has his own life. You’re living Mom and Dad’s.”

  “You have been watching Dr. Phil.” Haley stood and rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. Why couldn’t Paige shut up? Things were complicated enough. “What would you have me do? Leave, like you did?”

  “Yup.” Paige stepped toward her. “What that woman is doing to herself is not my problem. Or yours.”

  “How can you say that? She’s your mother.”

  “Yes, she is, but she makes her choices and I will not have my life dictated by them. And neither should you. It wasn’t fair for Dad to expect you to take care of Mom like a nursemaid, or for Garret to ask you to do it now. And it wasn’t fair for Dad to have you running that store while he was out playing detective.”

  A lump formed in Haley’s throat. A knot of anger, hurt and resentment all tangled together. “He wanted to find Michelle. He never stopped believing she was alive.”

  “Bullshit. He knew deep down, just like we all did. Maybe he didn’t want to believe it, but he pissed away all their money and your future. You should be mad as hell.”

  “You don’t understand.” Haley turned back the dresser, yanking open the last drawer. “You were gone. It was different living here. Somehow finding Michelle alive seemed possible.”

  “I don’t believe you. He may have hoped, you may have hoped, but after every year, he had to sense that she was never coming back. That she had died.”

  Haley shook her head, clinging to her denials.

  “Come on. When you got the call, telling you they found her body, were you at all surprised she was dead? Or weren’t you kind of expecting that?”

  “Let’s just finish this,” Haley muttered, her fingers sliding between pairs of folded blue jeans. “It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

  “Fine, but when you get home, take the phone.” Paige disappeared into the closet once more.

  Haley turned and stuck her tongue out as she closed the drawer. She knelt next to the bed, lifting the frilled skirt. Nothing. Not a box, not a book, not even a stray sock.

  Who didn’t have something under their bed? Even now, Haley was certain if she checked under her bed, she would find a couple of battered paperbacks, maybe a shoe or two.

  After dropping the bed skirt, she sat back on her heels and looked up. Her heart ceased to beat and her breath locked in her throat as she locked gazes with her mother.

  “How could you?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed to mere slits and her lips pulled back over her teeth in an ugly snarl. She curled her bony fingers until they looked like claws. She bent forward, poised as if ready to attack.

  She looks like a vulture, Haley thought, just before her mother let out a high, keening wail and charged.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Haley jumped to her feet as her mother plowed into her side, knocking the breath from her lungs. Claire’s small fists flailed ineffectively while a torrent of incoherent sobs and curses spilled from her mouth. As Haley struggled to grasp her mother’s wrists, Paige rushed out from the closet.

  She caught their mother in a bear hug from behind, trying to still her wildly waving arms. Paige almost had her when Claire caught Haley square in the mouth with the back of her hand.

  Haley’s head snapped back and her lips ground against her teeth. The metallic flavor of her own blood filled her mouth. She swore and turned away, pressing her fingers to her throbbing lips.

  “How could you?” Claire screamed, shrill and furious. Paige had managed to subdue her. “How could you do this to her?”

  Haley held one hand to her split lip while digging her fingernails into the palm of the other. Hot fury raged inside her, as she swallowed down the blood in her mouth and watched Paige continue to struggle with their mother.

  “Get out,” Claire screamed, shrilly. “Leave your sister’s things alone. You are not to touch them. She likes her things neat and she doesn’t like anyone going into her room.”

  “Mom, stop,” Paige said, trying to calm her.

  “I know. Nate told me who you’ve been carrying on with. I know why you’re doing this.” Claire continued as if Paige hadn’t spoken at all. “It’s because of him. You’re doing this to protect him. How could you, you filthy tramp? After what he did to your sister!”

  “It wasn’t Dean,” Paige said, while she tried to pull the older woman toward the door. “He didn’t kill Michelle. There’s proof.”

  “Don’t tell me that. I knew what he was. I told your father, but he wouldn’t listen and look what that bastard did. What he’s still doing,” Claire screeched.

  Something snapped inside Haley’s brain. She went to the dresser and her fingers curled around the cool porcelain of one of the knick-knacks near the mirror. A ceramic swan. She lifted the glass bird then winged it against the wall. It shattered in a tinkling explosion.

  Claire let out a high, mewing howl, and sank to the floor. Paige sank with her, her arms still wrapped around her mother at the elbows.

  With a methodical slowness, Haley yanked a drawer from the dresser, dumping the clothes inside into a pile on the floor. Urged on by her mother’s uncontrollable sobs, she did the same to the next, and the next, until every article of clothing lay in a tumbled heap at her feet.

  She hated this room. This Shrine stuck on permanent pause just like her life. Like a frustrated office worker, she swept her arm across the dresser’s surface, sending a lamp and jewelry box sailing through the air. The lamp landed on the floor with a thud, the shade bent at an odd angle. Tiny silver earrings glittered like stars on the carpet.

  Without hesitation, Haley turned to the bed, pulling off the covers in a single mighty heave and tossing them aside, then she kicked the bare mattress askew for
good measure.

  “She’s dead!” she shouted, turning to her mother. “Do you understand that? She doesn’t care what her room looks like or who’s in it because she’s dead!”

  Grim delight filled her when her mother shrank back against Paige. She turned to the night table, knocking a second lamp the floor and yanking open the drawer. She dumped the ancient make-up with a clatter.

  Enjoying herself now, she stepped onto the bed. The mattress teetered on the box spring as she walked across it to the other side. She pulled the drawer from the other nightstand, turning it upside down so magazines and scraps of paper fell onto the carpet.

  She froze. Her gaze fixed on a greeting card, twirling to the floor. The fury drained from her as if someone had pulled a plug. She knelt and picked the card up.

  Paige came to stand next to her. “What is it?”

  Now free, their mother scurried to the middle of the room. She gathered Michelle’s clothing to her bosom and sobbed inconsolably.

  The whole thing barely registered with Haley. She stared down at the black and white photo of two young children dressed in grown-up clothing. A little boy gave the little girl flowers. When Haley opened the card, it was unsigned. Just as she knew it would be.

  “This is just like the card I got the day of Michelle’s funeral,” she said. “The picture’s different, but the same style. Black and white, little kids dressed as grownups. And unsigned.”

  “You think Michelle got this from the same person?”

  “I do.”

  “You don’t know that anyone gave the card to Michelle. She could have bought it for someone and never had the chance to send it.”

  “Maybe,” Haley said, but she didn’t really think so.

  Her mother’s soft cries pierced her like tiny pins. God, what had she done? Disgusted with herself she moved to kneel next to her mother, but Claire pulled away curling up tightly into herself.

  “I’m sorry,” Haley said. What had she been thinking? “I’ll clean this up.”

  “Don’t bother,” Paige said, waving her hand. She grabbed Haley’s elbow and pulled her to the door. “I’ll worry about cleaning tomorrow.”

  “But Mom,” Haley said, as Paige dragged her down the stairs.

  “My God, don’t worry about her. After a few drinks, she’ll forget the whole thing.”

  Haley’s stomach turned. “That’s not funny.”

  “Yes, it is. Now go home and take a hot bath. And take Dean’s phone.”

  “For crying out loud.”

  “You know you want to.”

  “I suppose you’re going to call him and let him know I’m leaving.”

  “Yes, I am. Now go straight home so we don’t worry again.”

  For some reason, her sister’s mothering didn’t annoy her the way it had earlier. She slid on her jacket and grabbed her purse from the kitchen table.

  “I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, okay?” Paige said.

  Haley nodded, glad for the first time in years that Paige was her sister.

  Haley’s door was locked when she got home and her key didn’t fit. Exhausted, and a little annoyed, she rang the bell. After a moment, the door swung open and Dean stood in the opening. Her annoyance faded a little as she took in the sight of him. His hair, messed and tousled, his black long sleeved shirt snug against his solid chest and arms. After the day she’d had, she wanted to press herself against that chest and feel his arms around her.

  “Sorry,” he said, stepping aside. “New locks. I have a key for you inside.”

  She moved into the hall and peeled off her jacket. “Thanks for installing them.”

  “No problem? Are you okay?”

  “My mom caught us.” The statement sounded ridiculous on her lips, as if they were teenagers pilfering a cigarette or sneaking out late at night.

  Concern filled Dean’s eyes and Haley had to look away. “What happened?”

  “She freaked out, caused a scene. Same old, same old.”

  Before she could stop him she was in his arms, held tight against his beating heart. Hadn’t she craved the feeling of security that she knew she would find there? And that craving terrified her more than anything else had today. She shivered a little and his grip tightened. His lips brushed the top of her head.

  Stop being a baby. She had known form the start they were temporary. She went into this relationship with her eyes open, with no expectations, and she would keep it that way. Just enjoy the time you have together and worry about what happens next after he’s gone.

  “I’m starving,” he murmured into her hair. “And you couldn’t have eaten very much today.”

  No, she hadn’t. Not since a muffin and coffee for breakfast. And that had wound up in the toilet at work. “I could eat. What do you feel like?”

  “I found a Chinese food menu in your kitchen drawer when I was looking for a screwdriver. Why do you keep tools in the kitchen?”

  She shrugged. “It’s handier than going down to the basement.”

  “So Chinese?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Okay.” A faint smile touched her mouth. “I’m going upstairs to change.”

  “What do you want me to order?” He grabbed the menu from the counter and returned to the living room then lifted the phone from the side table.

  “I’ll eat pretty much anything, but order Szechwan beef for sure.” Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry.

  Dean nodded. “I’ll check off what I was thinking about ordering and run it by you when you come back downstairs. Is there a pen around here?” He opened the drawer in the table next to the couch.

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “No. Just leave that.”

  “What is all this?” He lifted the torn scraps of paper.

  “Nothing. Garbage. Just forget it.” Haley nudged him out of the way and tugged at the newspaper in his hands.

  “They’re want ads for accountants and bookkeepers.”

  “It’s dumb. I need to throw them away. Here, give them to me.” She tried to snatch the ads away, but he pivoted and held them out of her reach.

  “Are you looking for job?”

  “For crying out loud, give them to me. I’m not going to play keep-away with you.”

  “Answer me. Is that what you want to do?”

  “I don’t know, maybe. It’s stupid, now give them to me so I can throw them out.” Her face burned. She must look like a complete idiot.

  “It’s not stupid if that’s what you want to do.” He handed over the clippings.

  “It is stupid. People dream of being artists and poets and astronauts, not accountants.”

  “If that’s what you want to do, then you should do it.”

  She turned and started toward the garbage in the kitchen. “I have a job.”

  “You’re unhappy running your father’s store. You can’t live your life doing what other people want you to do. At some point, you have to do what makes you happy.”

  Was he taking lessons from Paige all of sudden? “Sometimes grownups have to do things they don’t want to.”

  “And sometimes children are manipulated by their parents.” His words stung. She crumpled the papers in her hand into a tight ball, then tossed it into the trash.

  “Everybody seems to know what’s best for my life, but I’m the one who has to live it.” She turned and started up the stairs. Dean grabbed her hand and stopped her.

  “I don’t want us to end.”

  A tiny thrill sparked inside her. A least she wasn’t the only one dreading the inevitable. “I don’t want that either.”

  “Then come back with me when I leave. I’ve got a place, the house is in mid-renovation, but it’ll be nice when it’s done.”

  “Just drop everything and go live with you?”

  “You don’t want to be in this house, working at the store. You could finally do what you’ve always wanted to.”

  The idea of trading a messy workbench for a desk and computer, or baggy coveralls for tidy little suits, app
ealed on an almost desperate level. He was right about one thing, she had always wanted that.

  “I have responsibilities.”

  “They’re not your responsibilities. Your mother has made her choice, you shouldn’t let that cost you what you want in life.”

  “That’s very easy to say, but I couldn’t just sit back and let what happens happen. I’m not made that way.”

  “We could have a life together.”

  “I don’t think so. I can’t walk away from my mother, and while the store may not have been my first career choice, it’s my father’s legacy.”

  “Damn it, Haley,” he said without any real heat.

  She shrugged. “That’s just the way it has to be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Paige woke slowly and stretched on the soft bed. For a moment, she fooled herself into believing she was waking in her own bed, in her own apartment, until she rapped her knuckles off the window ledge with a painful thwack. No, not home. She sighed and opened her eyes.

  Dull light flooded the room from the window. Exhausted, after finally calming her mother, she’d fallen into bed and had forgotten to lower the blinds. Squinting against the brightness, she rolled over to look at the clock. Ten-thirty.

  Ten-thirty?

  She jumped out of the bed. How had she been able to sleep until ten-thirty? Fear gripped her heart as she pulled on her jeans and sweater from the night before. Her mother should have been up by now. Could she have done something to herself after last night’s fiasco?

  As she scrambled across the room, still zipping the fly on her jeans, she flung open the door and froze. A rich, fragrant aroma filled the air in the kitchen. Coffee. Someone had made coffee? Haley must have come by to help clean the mess in Michelle’s room.

  The panic eased as she exhaled. With the urgency gone, she helped herself to a cup then started upstairs, but once she reached Michelle’s bedroom, she halted. Cardboard boxes, some sealed, others half-full of Michelle’s things sat in the center of the room.

  Haley wouldn’t just get rid of all Michelle’s things, would she?

  “You’re surprised?” The voice behind her made her jump. She turned and gaped at her mother. Dressed in blue jeans and a faded pale blue sweatshirt, both streaked with dirt in varying shades of gray and brown, she carried two empty cardboard boxes. Though her skin was pale and pasty, her eyes were unusually clear.