House Without Lies (Lily’s House Book 1)

by Rachel Branton

  “Did you make these?” I examined the container of croissants, which smelled delicious. Obviously, this had been part of our planned date tonight, and with regret, I wondered where he might have taken me so we could enjoy it together. I had a sneaking suspicion the girls had disclosed how much I utterly adored croissants.

  “I could tell you yes,” he said, “but then I’d be lying. I bought it all at a deli near my house.”

  “Lily doesn’t let us lie,” Ruth said.

  Saffron rolled her eyes. “He’s kidding.” She grabbed the bowl of chicken salad. “I’ll try some.”

  “Lily first.” Jameson passed the salad to me, and I was only happy to spread some on one of the rolls.

  “Wow,” I said, forgetting that my mouth was full. “It’s really good.”

  “The secret is in the spices, or so they say.” He layered a healthy spoonful of the mixture on another roll for himself before passing it to the girls. “Save Elsie one,” he warned.

  He’d remembered her! I stepped back and glanced down the hall, just in time to see the door to the bedroom click shut. Evidently, Elsie wasn’t as indifferent to his visit as she pretended.

  When I looked back at Jameson, he was helping the girls with their sandwiches. I offered him an apologetic grin. “Sorry about all the chaos. But it never really gets any quieter here.”

  “It’s exactly like home. Remember, I have five siblings.” Behind him, Saffron was pulling a bottle from the basket, but Jameson’s hand shot out to stop her. “Sorry, that’s not for kids.”

  “Oh, beans,” she said. “Lily never has alcohol here. Can’t even sneak it like I used to at my parents’ house.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “If I don’t have it, you guys can’t sneak it.” Ruth in particular had a weakness for alcohol, a genetic predisposition I was sure she’d gotten from her mother, and I had to keep a close eye on her.

  “Good thing I have chocolate mousse, which is even better.” Jameson pulled out a small bowl, and everyone dived for a spoon.

  Jameson chuckled. “It’s like feeding time at the zoo. Next time, I’ll bring more.”

  Next time. The words sent anticipation tingling through my body. “Right.” I reached over for my purse. “Come on, everyone. Time to hit the road.”

  Jameson took us in his car, which turned out to be a red Mustang that was far older than the new Honda my parents had bought for me years earlier, but his paint was new, and with the bench seat in front, it fit all six of us. The bench seat was very rare, we were told, and Jameson had restored the car with his dad as a teen. Zoey gave him directions to the school from the front seat, while I sat between them trying not to be so aware of Jameson’s thigh against mine. It didn’t help that he kept glancing over at me every few seconds.

  “Do I have chicken salad in my teeth?” I finally asked at a light, stretching to see the mirror.

  His smile made my stomach flop. “No. But you do have a little mousse here.” He touched the corner of my mouth, wiped slowly, and then licked his finger. “Mmm, even better.”

  He might as well have kissed me for the response in my body. I wanted to lean forward and let him kiss me for real.

  “That is totally gross,” Ruth said, ruining the moment. Halla and Bianca howled with laughter.

  “I’m glad you think so,” Jameson said. “Because I don’t want to share.” That made me turn red, and the girls laugh harder. His hand slipped over mine where it lay on my thigh, and except for shifting gears, it didn’t leave until we arrived at the high school.

  Inside, the school lobby had been transformed with portable walls and tables, where paintings, photographs, sculptures, and pottery were on display. Some of the drawings and photographs were quite good, but the pottery was mostly lopsided, malformed, or painted oddly. Four or five looked exactly like pieces I’d done in the third grade, ones my mother had thrown into the trash when she thought I wasn’t looking.

  Zoey grimaced as she showed her mug that sported an elephant snout and ears. No matter how we tried to stand the mug straight, it kept tipping over. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad,” she said. “But, hey, it’s art credit, and I don’t have to play an instrument. The class is pretty fun.”

  “Where’s yours?” I asked Bianca.

  Her eyes strayed to a grouping on a table at the end. I immediately saw the difference between these three pieces and the other ones on display. The three made even the best of the other pieces look careless and awkward. One was a short vase, graceful and perfectly formed and painted a vibrant blue. The second was a mug with an elaborately twisted handle, and inside it, a little fairy peering over the side. The final piece was a smooth, nearly flat plate with a swirling design that even my mother probably wouldn’t mind hanging on a wall.

  “They’re beautiful,” I said. “Which one’s yours?”

  Bianca blushed. “They’re all mine.”

  “Incredible!” I hugged her. Bianca loved to draw and always carried a notebook around, but this was a pleasant surprise. “I’m so proud of you!” I reached out and ran a finger along the edge of the plate. “It must have taken forever to get this so straight.”

  “It did take forever,” Zoey said. “Every time I stay after for drama, she’s in the art room.”

  Jameson ripped a couple of twenties from his wallet. “Are they for sale? I want to be the first one to buy one of your originals.”

  Bianca looked startled. “Uh, no, um . . .” She petered off, her face brilliantly red, a mixture of pleasure and reluctance.

  “Of course they aren’t for sale!” I slapped his hand away. “But we’ll let you know if she changes her mind. Now put that away.”

  “Hey, guys, I’m getting cookies before they’re gone.” Ruth made a beeline for the refreshment table, and the other girls dashed after her.

  Jameson picked up Bianca’s mug. “She really has a talent. If she’s got the dedication, she’ll be able to make a living with it someday.”

  “As long as her uncle doesn’t hear about it.” I paused, and then rushed on, “If she had more opportunities, she could go even further, but I don’t have money for extra classes or training . . . or whatever she needs.”

  He shook his head and carefully set down the piece. “You can’t focus on what she doesn’t have. There will be opportunities—you just have to keep an eye out for them.”

  Jameson had a point. I could make sure they let her take more pottery and art classes, and talk to the teacher to see if he was willing to keep letting her come in after school. He must have noticed her talent.

  “You’re right,” I said. “One step at a time.” I glanced around the room, but her teacher didn’t seem to be here, so I’d have to discuss things with him another night.

  “We have other resources and connections at Teen Remake—and we often hook parents up with the additional resources offered by DCS. That’s why getting licensed is important.” He glanced down at the pieces. “But honestly, if she loves it, she won’t give up. As long as anyone doesn’t try to force her to become something she hates, she’ll be fine.”

  I thought fleetingly of my parents enrolling me into business classes and how I’d hated them. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

  He laughed. “Not me. My dad. He worked as an accountant when I was young, but now he does woodworking. Makes almost nothing, but he’s happy.”

  “What about you? Your card says you do accounting.”

  “That’s right. I actually worked with my dad in his shop for a year after high school, but it turned out that while I enjoy working with my hands, I like numbers more. So now I have a year left in college before I dive into an MBA. But I still don’t plan to work for anyone but myself in the long run.”

  “Believe it or not, business was my original plan,” I said with a laugh. “But after basic accounting, I was ready to call it quits. Then I studied psychology. And I just finished a year of nursing classes.”

  “I bet that’s all come in very handy with
the girls.”

  “Oh, yeah, but I’m going to change again. I just don’t know to what.”

  “You don’t?” He glanced at the girls, who were standing together laughing near the refreshment table. “That surprises me. You seem to have a pretty good idea of what you want for your future.”

  For a fleeting instant, I thought of telling him about my dream house and helping more girls, but I wasn’t ready yet to scare him away. “Some things I do know. It gets complicated when you involve family, at least with mine.”

  “Oh?” His look invited me to confide more, but I didn’t want to waste the night talking about my father’s dream of Tessa and me running the factory—or better yet, married to rich husbands who would take over and make him even more money.

  “We should grab some cookies before my crew eats them all.” As we walked toward the girls, I couldn’t help noticing how different they looked from one another. Ruth in her big clothes and baseball cap that didn’t quite hide her beauty, towering over the others, her dark skin contrasting sharply with short little Halla’s pale skin and shaved blond head. Plump Zoey made almost as drastic a contrast next to thin Bianca. I’d always thought everyone could tell just by looking at them that there was something broken inside—I could see it—but here at the school, in their tight little safety knot, they resembled any of the other kids here.

  I took a couple cookies from the table and wrapped them in a napkin. “I already got Elsie and Saffron some,” Ruth said with a grin. “Go ahead and eat ’em. They’re actually good.”

  I bit into one. “Ugh, seriously? Good? I guess if you like chocolate-flavored cardboard.”

  Zoey grabbed a couple more. “They have sugar; what more do you want? Not everyone can make them as good as you.”

  Jameson made a face, but he finished his cookie. “They are pretty bad.”

  “Lily makes great cookies,” Halla said, rubbing a hand on her camouflage pants. “Seriously.”

  “Can’t wait to taste them.” Jameson looked appropriately eager.

  On the way home, the girls sang a camp song I’d taught them. I’d gone to two or three camps every summer since I was eight, and I knew all the songs. They scattered from the car when we pulled up in the parking lot at the apartment, Zoey giving catcalls as she left until Ruth hushed her. They hurried up the stairs, past a figure leaning on the second-floor railing, a glowing cigarette in his mouth, his face nearly obscured in the darkness. Only experience told me it was the neighbor who made us all feel uncomfortable, especially Elsie.

  “What is it?” Jameson asked, watching them through the windshield.

  “Just my neighbor. He was asking Elsie questions the other day. Kind of freaked her out. Then yesterday he followed her to the corner. That’s why she was worried when you came today.”

  “What happened to her?”

  I sighed and leaned back on the seat. “She won’t talk about it yet. I believe from what little she has said that it was her father who hurt her. She’ll talk when she’s ready. She has to feel safe first.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “I am. They always take time.”

  After a few moments of silence, he said, “You want to come down to Teen Remake in the morning?”

  “Yeah, I have time. I have to drop some of the girls across town at nine, but I can come right after.”

  “I already talked to our liaison with DCS, who provides oversight for our program, and let her know you’re coming in. She’ll be there tomorrow, so I can make sure that time works and let you know.”

  “I’m not telling her about the girls.”

  He rubbed his hands along the steering wheel. He had nice hands, strong-looking with long fingers, and I could see them working with wood like his father. “I really think you should talk to her at least about Zoey and Bianca. They take sexual assault seriously where teen girls are concerned. I can’t see her sending them back to their uncle.”

  “What if they’re sent someplace worse?”

  His hands slid down the sides of the steering wheel and rested on his leg. “Naw. They’re happy with you, and doing well. There are too many children in the system to worry about something that’s working. Trust me on this.”

  I wanted to trust him because it was what I craved—to give all the girls more. “I’ll talk to her.”

  “You won’t regret it.”

  All at once, I became aware of how close I was still sitting to him. Our eyes met and held. We were parked near the only working streetlight, and the shadows it threw on his face made him appear mysterious and more than a little sensual.

  “Sorry about the messed up date,” I murmured.

  “Don’t be.” His eyes dipped to my lips.

  “I’d better go.”

  He nodded. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “That’s okay. I can find my way.”

  “You should know by now that I’m still going up there—especially with that guy hanging around.”

  I was tempted to point out that my neighbor was no longer standing by the railing, but I was far more interested in the way he was staring at me. He swallowed hard.

  “Okay, you can walk with me,” I said.

  “All right.”

  I didn’t move and neither did he. Except closer. And closer. I was dying for it to happen. Maybe I had been all day.

  He didn’t look away. He held my gaze for several heartbeats, giving me every opportunity to pull away. His lips met mine tentatively, as if asking permission, and it was me who moved forward to deepen the kiss. Fire raced through my veins and shuddered through my stomach. A thousand fireworks could have been going off overhead, and I wouldn’t have noticed. All the girls could bang on the windows, and I’d keep kissing him.

  When we broke apart, he was grinning. I was tempted to pull him back and try again, to wipe off the grin, to daze him as I felt dazed. I’d been kissed before, but this was something incredible.

  “Hey, I have an idea,” he said. “We can still make our date.”

  Reality crashed over me. “Tonight? I don’t think so. If I don’t get the girls in bed, they’ll watch television all night, and it’s a school night for at least some of them.” He might as well learn the truth about my life. There wouldn’t be any late night bar-hopping or impromptu road trips. No private movie nights or sleepovers.

  “No, I know you have to go in. But how about in the morning? I’ll pick you up at five.”

  “Five?” Was he some kind of maniac? “Who in their right mind ever gets up at five?”

  He laughed. “You’ll be home in time to get the girls to school. I promise.” He looked ready to kiss me again, but I reached for the door. I needed to leave now, or I might regret this later.

  “Okay, it’s a date.” Guess I was just as crazy.

  He laughed and jumped out of the Mustang, running around to help me before I had the door halfway open. We raced up four flights, our arms brushing. I tripped him near the door and squeezed into the lead.

  “Cheater!”

  “Playing to win,” I countered.

  I stood in front of the door, my heart pounding, keys to the apartment in my hand. He stepped closer. He was going to kiss me again, and I was going to let him.

  Steps pounding up the stairs jolted my attention from Jameson. For a brief instant, fear shuddered through me—and then Ruth and Halla appeared. “Two little lovers sittin’ in a tree,” they sang.

  “Seriously? Are you guys like two?”

  They collapsed in laughter against each other. “You didn’t even see us,” Halla said. “We were spying on you.”

  I met Jameson’s eyes and was grateful to see that he was laughing and not annoyed. “You guys remind me of my little sisters.”

  “Not Lily,” shot Ruth. “You don’t kiss sisters like that.” Still giggling, they pushed past us, their keys rattling. Light sliced onto Jameson’s face from inside the apartment.

  “Tomorrow at five,” he said, backing away.r />
  “Okay, see you then.”

  I went inside and found Halla and Ruth recounting everything to the other girls. “Well,” Saffron asked, “how was the kiss? A dud? Or fireworks?”

  “Definitely fireworks.”

  Saffron faked seriousness. “Well, then, young lady. I’ll have none of that in this house. Just so you know.”

  “It was just a kiss.”

  “That excuse never works for me,” Saffron said with a grin. “Anyway, it must have been some kiss. You took long enough.”

  I was going to argue, but it had been something amazing, so I took the easy way out and changed the subject. “Well, it’s time for bed, everyone.” I clapped my hands. “If you get ready fast, we’ll watch something.”

  “Another science show?” Zoey groaned. But she was the first one to the bathroom.

  While the girls took turns in the bathroom, I started downloading a science program from the internet for us to watch on the television. I was determined that even those who didn’t go to school would learn something. Saffron had taken the GED successfully with my help, even though she’d had to forge her parents’ signature to take it, and that was the route we’d go with the others, if we had to.

  Sure that everything was in order, I went to check on Elsie. She was reading in the bedroom, curled on her bed. She sat up immediately, her face softly lit by the dim light.

  “So, was he mad?” she asked. “About canceling your date, I mean.”

  “No. And if he was, then it would have been his problem. People don’t have the right to be angry about things like that, or at least not to take it out on others.”

  “Then he’ll still help us?”

  I put my arm around her. “Yes. I’m going to see a woman at his work tomorrow.”

  “Is he going to be there?”

  “Yes.”

  Elsie grinned. “Better take some ice.”

  5

  My hair was still damp when I crept out of the house without awakening the girls. Jameson was just pulling up in the dark parking lot. “So where are we going?” I asked as he jumped out to walk around the car and open my door.