Half-Truths

by Randileigh Kennedy

  “Wow, so that’s not Kip?” My brother whistled. “Then I guess it’s good you’re getting that out of your system now before your boyfriend comes to town this weekend.”

  Chapter 9

  “Shut up, what are you talking about?” I narrowed my eyes at Warren.

  “They were putting up posters all over downtown this afternoon,” my brother stated nonchalantly, as if I already knew. “Kip’s performing at Murphy’s Pub this weekend. All the girls were going nuts about it. Oh, and they hate you by the way, as soon as I told them my sister was dating him.”

  The color drained from my face. “Are you sure? Or are you just being a jerk?” I needed clarification from him.

  “You really didn’t know?” he questioned with a straight face, leading me to believe he wasn’t kidding.

  “Shit.”

  “So that means he doesn’t know about Sawyer?” Warren teased. “Look at you, sis. You move to the big city and become quite the hussy.”

  “That’s not funny. This has to be some horrible joke. Why would Kip come here?”

  “He’s not here to see you?”

  “I don’t know.” I sighed, unsure what was even happening. We made it to our dad’s room, and I was pulled back into reality.

  “I hope you’re sneaking me in some good food.” My dad smiled as we entered the room. “This low-sodium diet they have me on is the worst. I’m pretty sure they’re just feeding me colored cardboard.”

  “How’d it go today?” I asked eagerly.

  “We’re still in the same boat,” my mom replied somberly. “The scans look worse by the day. His heart is so enlarged that they’re amazed it’s working at all.”

  “They’re taking him to Stanford?” I brought up again from our earlier conversation. That was the only real plan anyone had come up with so far.

  “Not until they have space. So we wait,” my dad explained. The entire situation frustrated me. Everyone talked about all this bad news, but aside from drawing blood, running tests, measuring his urine output, and pumping him full of random pills, no one was fixing him.

  “This doesn’t make sense,” Warren added, his thoughts mirroring mine. “If they know it’s so bad, why doesn’t it seem like anyone is in a hurry to operate on you?”

  “Because, like we talked about, they can’t do it here. It’s beyond their capabilities. Even at Stanford they aren’t necessarily promising me a better outcome. They’re just the only ones willing to try,” my dad continued.

  “I think we need a good, old-fashioned family game night,” my mom insisted, changing the subject. Her voice always sounded too happy for even the grimmest situation. “We have a lot of family coming to town tomorrow, so it will be nice to spend some time together. We haven’t done this for years. Not since you guys left.”

  My brother and I exchanged glances, knowing we didn’t really have a choice in the matter. If it would make our mom happy, it would make our dad happy, which meant we were absolutely on board with it.

  We played several games over the next six hours. Yes, six. Monopoly and Risk were always family favorites, and those weren’t quick games. We also played card games and a couple of dice games. Just after midnight we called it quits, and I was looking forward to a good night of sleep.

  I texted Sawyer before settling into the uncomfortable sofa bed. My dad had already drifted off to sleep. Everything still looks bad. Nothing’s changed. Thanks again for today. I needed that. I hit send. I checked my voice mails, not really surprised that I had a few from “Kip.” He didn’t call himself Chris around me anymore, which was probably the sign that I needed about just how much had changed between us. I had noticed his number pop up on my screen over the past few days, but I had no interest in talking to him. Sure enough, his voice mails were full of apologies and groveling. I had a pit in my stomach just hearing his voice. He kept urging me to call him as he had something he wanted to talk about, but I wasn’t interested in that conversation now.

  The way he had betrayed me with his PR manager was bad enough. But the real hurt for me was so much bigger. I’d spent the last few months pouring out my soul to him, writing song after song. We worked so well together, and I had learned so much from him. He was on fire as well, making new music and really enhancing his style. I finally felt like I’d found something I’d been after—not just the relationship, but the chance to show the world what I had. I thought I was making such good progress. But now how would I ever face those music-label executives? They all knew what had happened, I’m sure. The PR wench certainly couldn’t keep her feelings to herself before the incident, so I couldn’t imagine what she was saying now. If I took him back, I would look like a pathetic, sad girl, using him to get what I wanted. It wasn’t worth it. Without him though, I was back at square one, wondering if I would ever be noticed again.

  My phone chimed. I get out of the conference around three tomorrow. Up for another adventure? I smiled as I read the words, immediately texting back: Sounds perfect. I shut off the table lamp and drifted into a deep, restful sleep.

  ***

  As usual, I was awoken many times during the night by the nurses coming in and out of the room and the maddening monitor noises. In the morning my dad and I bonded again over orange sherbet, and strangely I liked something about this routine. Obviously I would never choose to be sitting around a hospital room for hours on end, but in many ways I looked forward to these times when it was just the two of us eating ice cream and talking about life.

  It was surreal in so many ways. We were simply having conversation, like we’d done a million times before, but given the circumstances, it seemed like much more than just an exchange of words. He offered the same wisdom he always did, but I listened more closely. The simple things he said meant so much more in this place, and I realized just how lucky I was to wake up day after day to these conversations. We talked about everything—old stories about him I never knew, along with a few of my own I had never felt ready to tell him in my youth. I admitted to trying alcohol for the first time at age sixteen, and he followed that by telling me his own coming-of-age stories. I felt a connection with him I had never felt before this visit. I’m sure part of it was my age; it was amazing how much more forthcoming and honest you could be with your parents once you were an adult and you feared no repercussions from your stupidity. But these were real conversations, full of warmth, advice, and love.

  By midmorning my mom and brother had returned, and other family members filtered in throughout the day. Some aunts and uncles stopped by along with old family friends. I listened to my dad retell the story of his condition to everyone who asked the same barrage of questions. There were many tears, many embraces, and many I love yous—those struck me the most. I knew in my head these people were all coming to say goodbye to my father. The doctors had basically told me that’s what I should be doing with my time as well. But I still felt disconnected from it all as I watched him laugh and hug and recount old memories with each person who came to visit. It all didn’t seem possible.

  I helped my mom run a couple of errands; she needed to fill out some insurance paperwork and sign documents at the travel agency she worked at since she was taking a sizable amount of time off. She handled it all in her bubbly, organized way, as if these were simply tasks she was completing for the day like any other. I couldn’t tell if she was really this put together even during chaos or if she was in complete denial. I couldn’t differentiate between the two when it came to my mother. That was calming in a way. She should have been a complete and total wreck. I felt like I was. Instead she was orchestrating travel plans for family members who were coming and going, taking care of any papers that needed attention, and constantly arranging food for everyone stopping by. I wasn’t sure if she was someone who could soar like this forever or if she was just minutes away from crashing. I envied her nonetheless.

  Three o’clock rolled around, and some guys from my dad’s old Boy Scout troop stopped by to visit. Apparently
word traveled fast. The number of people who’d heard about my dad and his condition amazed me, as did their genuine efforts to come by and pay their respects for someone who’d meant something to them at one time or another.

  Sawyer texted me that he was in front of the hospital. Sure enough, he was waiting for me in the Jeep, top down, with a bag in the backseat. He looked casual in blue shorts and a red T-shirt. He was wearing a baseball cap again, the same one he had worn a couple of days ago, and he looked like innocence and trouble all at once. I smiled as soon as we made eye contact.

  “What’s the plan?” I asked as I climbed into the passenger seat. “I gave Brie her suit, so if you want to hit the beach, I need to stop by my parents’ place first.”

  “I have something else in mind for today,” he replied casually, turning out of the hospital parking lot per his GPS instructions.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be the tourist? I’m supposed to show you around,” I said bashfully, staring at him as he drove. “How do you know where you’re going?”

  “Research, remember?” he teased. “I saw a brochure in the lobby of my hotel, and I knew I had to do it. Makes it that much better now that you get to do it with me.” He gave me that boyish smile again, the one that made me forget about my real life. He looked completely ready to whisk me away into another world, and I was thankful for that.

  We made small talk as we drove. I told him about my two-hour game of Monopoly the night before and about all the people coming in to see my dad. He was a good listener, which was just one of many things I was intrigued by. I was attracted to him, obviously—perfect jawline, emotional eyes, chiseled torso, radiant smile . . . I could go on for an hour. You’d have to be dead not to notice those things about Sawyer. But the way things felt between us was more like a genuine friendship versus some guy just trying to get in my pants. It felt old-fashioned in a way, getting to know someone like this. It was different.

  “This is it,” he said confidently as he pulled into a quaint parking lot. There was a small brick building to the right of us and several parked helicopters in the distance. A sign read Heli-Tahoe.

  “We’re going up in a helicopter?” I said excitedly.

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “It’s never even crossed my mind.” I grinned. “I didn’t even realize this was a thing. You can just rent a helicopter?”

  “Pretty much.” He smirked as we climbed out of the Jeep. “The pictures look amazing. They’ll take you over all these different spots: Emerald Bay, Zephyr Cove, Sand Harbor.” He handed me a brochure from the pocket of his shorts.

  “This does look amazing,” I said, staring at the pictures. “How have I lived here my whole life and never done this?” I was genuinely surprised. I’d been to all of those spots before, but I’d never seen them from above. It made them look like completely new places. They looked absolutely incredible.

  “I already got our tickets.” He handed a piece of paper to one of the employees who had greeted us as we’d walked into the brick building.

  “Right this way, Mr. Grant,” the middle-aged man replied, leading us through another set of doors to a large concrete tarmac of sorts. “This is your pilot, Vernon.” He introduced us to a short, stocky guy with dark hair who appeared to be in his fifties.

  “First time?” he asked Sawyer and me as he led us to the helicopter.

  “Yep,” we replied in unison. Our voices sounded equally excited.

  He handed us some gear to put on so that we’d be able to hear one another over the loud helicopter blades through small microphones. He explained a few things before our departure, and within about ten minutes, we were finally ready for our flight.

  The thunderous blades swung around over our heads, and Sawyer reached for my hand.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I squealed. We lifted up off the ground, and although it felt a little shaky and unsteady at first, within no time we were gliding through the air with ease. It was strange to be up so high in such a tiny enclosure. It was a far different experience from any plane ride I’d ever been on. I felt like I was in a loud, tiny bubble, just gliding over the earth.

  As we flew through the air, Vernon described everything below us in such a way that I felt like I was a tourist in my own town. He knew about the history of the lake and had so much information to offer. The views were breathtaking. The tops of the mountains were still covered in a light dusting of snow from the spring, which wasn’t too uncommon for June. They looked absolutely majestic. There were massive trees, rocks, and natural springs running down the sides of the mossy mountains. The lake was a color of blue that needed its own unique word. It was deep and sparkling and clear, and although I already knew the water was beautiful, this was something else. Massive boulders, huge mansions, and tiny specks of boats and humans frolicked beneath us.

  Vernon led us around various areas of the lake, and although the names were all familiar to me, I’d never seen each place like this. I wasn’t likely to forget the excitement on Sawyer’s face as he stared out the helicopter window, completely in awe.

  “I can’t believe this view!” he exclaimed, taking it all in. He squeezed my hand, and I loved everything about this moment.

  We were up in the air for about an hour and a half, and it passed by quickly. Sawyer and I were beaming as we landed and headed back to his Jeep.

  “Not a bad plan, right?” Sawyer said enthusiastically as he opened the door for me.

  “I still can’t believe I’ve never done anything like that before,” I gushed. I felt like there was still adrenaline running through my veins.

  “Can I talk you into dinner?” he asked sweetly. I eyed the clock, surprised to see it was almost six. I quickly checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed anything important. No calls or texts from my family; just a couple of missed calls from Kip and one from an unknown local number. I nodded at Sawyer as I listened to my voice mails for any urgent news.

  The messages from Kip sounded like the ones he’d already left—profuse apologies for everything he’d done wrong, followed by promises to make it up to me. He mentioned Murphy’s Pub in his last message. He begged me to stop by there this weekend as he had some kind of “surprise” for me. I had no clue what that entailed. The last message, however, really caught me off guard. It was Wes.

  I hung up the phone, and Sawyer looked curious. “Is everything okay? Do you need to head back?”

  “Everything’s fine.” I sighed. “Just a couple calls from my past. I’m not sure why they bother.”

  “Really? I know exactly why they would bother.” He smirked. “I assume we’re talking about men from your past here?”

  “Something like that,” I said dismissively. “I have an idea. Instead of going out, how about we get some Chinese and stay in? Keep it low key?” The last thing I was in the mood for was running into anyone from my former life. I didn’t have it in me. That’s why I liked spending time with Sawyer—I didn’t have to deal with any of that. We could just have fun without me having to face reality, which was apparently something I was perpetually hiding from.

  “My place or yours?” he answered with a suggestive brow.

  “I’m not sure who will be at mine. I think we have a bunch of family staying there right now. People are coming to town from all over the place. It’s getting to be pretty overwhelming. Maybe we can just hang out at your hotel?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  I led him toward my favorite Chinese restaurant, and we ordered more food than we could possibly eat in one sitting, but we were both famished. We took it back to his hotel, which was conveniently right next to the hospital’s conference center. We carried our food to the seventh floor, and he led me in.

  “This is home,” he teased. He had a decent view of downtown Mountain Ridge from his window, and I loved the way the lights from the casinos twinkled like specks of glitter from here. It was a nice spot, and the room was pretty clean and tidy, although it w
as rather small. It was better than the hospital room and a much better escape than hanging out at my parents’ place with every relative I had. It was way too soon for that.

  “It’s your lucky day by the way. Look what I saved from the other night,” he commented, gesturing toward the mini fridge built into the TV stand. He pulled out the blue bottle of Boone’s Farm from the other night in the park. I laughed, surprised he hadn’t pitched it as soon as I’d left him that night. “There’s only one desk chair though,” he said with a laugh. “Not really set up for a party.”

  “Let’s just eat on the floor,” I mused, grabbing some pillows off the bed for us to sit on. He slid the small double bed out of the way, and we made space on the carpet. We unloaded all the food and took slugs from the glass bottle.

  “So all these ex-boyfriends of yours. What’s the deal? Are you going to call them back?” he asked curiously.

  “No way. I have nothing to say,” I said between bites of sweet-and-sour chicken. “Kip is an ass. That’s pretty clear, right? He cheated on me and sank my career in one swift move. That move, of course, was throwing his manager on top of his sound table,” I growled. “Apparently he’s playing a show in town this weekend. He keeps leaving me messages. He has a ‘surprise’ for me, but I don’t know what that means. I have no interest in any of it.”

  “And the other one?”

  “Wes,” I said quietly. “He had his chance. I wrote him a note before I left town. I told him if he really wanted us, all he had to do was meet up with me before I took off. I would’ve stayed for him. If he wanted to fight for us, we could’ve made it work, but he never showed up. How’s that for a humiliating story?”

  “So what does he want now? To change your mind?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “We’re too far past that. I’m trying to live a different life, far away from everything here. I want to be a different person—someone better. Someone who’s achieved something. Someone who’s made a difference in some way. But honestly I don’t think I’m any different from the girl I was when I left here.”