A Lie for a Lie

by Robin Merrow MacCready

  He came and sat beside me, and I kissed him with all the meaning I could. I wanted him to get that I was just temporarily upset, that I wouldn’t always be a crying mess. I kissed him in a way that would let him know I was a party girl, too, but I was never going to party as hard as I did the night we drank the champagne. And somewhere between my kisses and mumblings, I wanted him to feel like we were best friends and that I would be there for him when he needed to unload.

  “And I want to say thanks for cutting it off with Nicole.”

  He pulled back and looked away.

  “I mean, I know you hang out. Like close friends,” I said.

  “You’re talking like you think I did something wrong, but you don’t really want to say it,” he said, still not looking at me.

  I sighed loudly. “It’s been so crazy lately, and everything’s mixed up. I’m sorry, Will,” I said, trying to backtrack.

  “We’re not exclusive.” He whipped his stick into the fire and immediately got up, found another one, and sat back down.

  “Exactly!” That’s what I’d been waiting for and what I had needed to hear all along. “Whew, that’s a relief,” I said, leaning into him and rubbing his back.

  “No, Kendra, we’re not exclusive.” He motioned between us with his stick.

  My stomach clenched, and the patch of sand in front of me blurred. I let the feeling pass through me and vowed not to cry about this. I stood up and slung my bag over my shoulder and stomped to the rock steps.

  “Are you mad?” he asked. I turned, but he didn’t wait for me to answer. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No, not really wrong,” I said. “I was crazy to think this was going to be something. You gave me every sign that you’re a complete asshole, and I pretended it wasn’t happening.” Will was just like my father.

  He stepped back like I’d punched him.

  “No, really, Will. How many times did you fool around with Nicole while we were together?”

  He scrunched his face like he was searching for the answer to an unsolvable math problem. “I told you, we weren’t exclusive.”

  “We’re not anything now.”

  * * *

  I left him right there and waded through the rising tide alone, using the flashlight on my phone to guide me. Stumbling over rocks and getting tangled in the floating seaweed, I had one thought: not that the water was going to pull me under, not that I was going to drown, but that from here on I wasn’t going to have any secrets or tell any lies.

  And that included how I felt about Bo.

  CHAPTER 20

  I woke up knowing that it was the day I’d shut down Operation Snapshot. That meant taking everything back to the brownstone. Jilly had her regular Sunday soccer game at one o’clock, and this one was in Wells, about forty-five minutes away.

  Mom and Dad were at a golf tournament luncheon, so I parked in my spot and waited for the blue van to leave. When it did, I waited another five minutes before I let myself in.

  What I was doing would make it right. I had everything with me, and it was all going back.

  I couldn’t replace Rex, though, and I felt terrible.

  I set the great blue heron back on the side table, the photos on the baby grand, and the candlesticks on the mantel. I sat at the computer and put the letter opener where I’d found it and the sailboat paperweight on top of some papers.

  Everything looked the way it should downstairs.

  I moved upstairs, quickly returning the Spanish dancer necklace to Gail’s jewelry drawer with the chunky silver bracelet. I put the photo of the Calliope back on Dad’s bedside table and returned Gail’s glasses.

  Jilly’s room was total chaos as usual, and Rex’s cage was still in the corner. I opened her cedar box and put the Spanish dancer back, along with the sailing medal.

  I raced downstairs and out the door, feeling immediately lighter. Not completely weightless, but lighter. I could check that off my list of Things to Put Right.

  Next was Bo. I sent him a text.

  Me: Operation Snapshot spun out of control. I just shut it down.

  I headed for the café in the hope that he’d want to see me. My phone beeped, and I pulled over to check it.

  Bo: If you want to debrief be at the café at 5:30.

  Relief flooded me. There was a chance that Bo didn’t totally hate me. And if he did, I was determined to fix it.

  * * *

  I got there on time, but the lights were off and the chairs were flipped up on the tables. He could’ve changed his mind about meeting me, and if he did, I couldn’t blame him. I’d yanked him around enough. But I took a chance he was around back.

  The picnic table was set with two smoothies and a big, fat candle, and Bo was sitting on top, waiting.

  “I heard,” he said.

  “What did you hear?” I said, a million things going through my mind.

  “You dumped Will on his ass,” he said.

  I stopped, halfway there, and caught my breath. Was Bo pissed? If he was, I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d cast him aside for a complete loser. Now I was going forward, new and clean and fresh, and with total honesty. No matter what happened from this step forward, I was going to be real.

  “I dumped him on Beach Rose Island,” I said. “He didn’t expect it, but I’m pretty sure he was over it before he got across the causeway.”

  He laughed and patted the picnic table. “Have a drink,” he said. I settled beside him and sipped the smoothie.

  “Mmm, peanut butter and banana,” I said.

  “Your favorite.”

  “So good,” I said, trying to swallow. There was a lump in my throat. I jumped off the table and shook out my hands and stomped my feet a little.

  “You okay?” Bo asked. He started to get down off the table, but I put up my hand.

  “Yeah,” I said, tears pooling in my eyes. I wiped them away. This is it, I thought. This is what love is. Someone forgives you for pushing them away and then when you want them back, they make you your favorite smoothie.

  It was that simple.

  I planted myself between his thighs and hugged him around the waist. Looking up at him, I said, “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” And I meant it. I filled him in on all my sleuthing, all my criminal activity, and everything I did to make it right again.

  I waited, face tilted up at him, eyes open and heart open, too, for him to kiss me, but it didn’t come. Instead, he moved off the table and lifted me onto it. He took my face between his giant hands and held it. Then he kissed me. It would have been the perfect ending to a tough day.

  And then I got a text.

  Dad: Meet me at the house. Now.

  CHAPTER 21

  I walked into the kitchen and found Dad alone at the table. It wasn’t unlike the night we found out Grandma had died.

  Expressionless, he motioned for me to sit.

  “Where’s Mom?” I asked.

  “She’ll be back later,” he said. “Right now it’s just you and me and this,” he said, turning his laptop around for me to see.

  I gasped and covered my mouth. It was me, on video, in the brownstone; me in the kitchen opening the fridge, me in the bedroom by the dresser, me at the baby grand with my bag fat with stuff I’d stolen. There were multiple views that looped over and over. And one showed fear on my face as I ran toward the broom closet.

  I looked at Dad and opened my mouth to speak, but I could only manage a squeak. The panic that I’d conquered was back. I stood up quickly, knocking my chair to the floor, and ran to the sink and turned on the faucet. I needed water. And air—I wanted air. Pins of light floated in front of my eyes, and my throat tightened. One breath, I thought. If I could get one breath … I stuck my head out the door and forced myself to breathe.

  Behind me the water still ran in the sink. Dad got up and turned it off.

  “Kendra, count to ten.”

  I froze. That’s how he used to help me when I was little.

  “I can do it myself
,” I said. “Asshole.” I shut the door but didn’t turn around.

  I heard him sit back down. “Of course you can. And I am an asshole.”

  He’d left a glass of water by the sink and I downed it.

  “Please sit so we can talk, Kennie.”

  I did, but I shut the laptop first.

  He set his phone on the table, opened to my text and photo. Do the right thing.

  All I could do was shake my head. I didn’t know where to start. Then it hit me. There was also video of me today, putting back what I’d taken. I was doing the right thing. He was the one who needed to explain himself.

  “I thought it might be you,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Well I couldn’t be sure. I needed proof.” He let out a loud sigh. “My God, Ken, stealing?” He shook his head.

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “Don’t try to be the good parent now. You’re the one who needs to explain himself.”

  He looked away for a few seconds and then nodded. “Okay. It started after the accident. I always felt like Hal was killed because of me. I still do. So I helped Gail get back on her feet after Hal’s death. She didn’t know how to deal with his business.”

  “Jesus, Dad,” I said, “what about helping us? We were a mess. And Mom’s leg…”

  “I couldn’t have survived without Grandma,” he said, his voice catching.

  I wondered if she’d suspected. “Did she know about you and Gail?”

  “She asked me if I was having an affair. We argued, but I denied it. Ever since, there’s been tension.”

  “I called her, you know, and told her,” I said.

  His head shot up, like he was surprised, but then he shrugged and said, “You confirmed her suspicions.”

  “Grandma never asked you about it after that?”

  “I guess it was easier to pretend it never happened.”

  Maybe for them, I thought. No more pretending for me.

  “Grandma stayed for you. And your mom,” he said fiddling with his keys, “was not herself.”

  He leaned against the wall and sighed loudly. “She blamed me for Hal’s death.”

  “So she was pissed,” I said. “So what? It doesn’t mean you should abandon your injured wife for someone else. You took advantage of both of them. You make me sick!” And just like that, a wave of nausea came over me and I ran to the sink and threw up.

  Dad was right there, trying to rub my back, but I shook him off. Instead of returning to the table, I stayed at the sink and kept my distance.

  He went back to leaning against the wall, rattling his keys out of habit. “Look, Kennie, there’s a lot you don’t know about that time, and it’s not my place to tell you everything, but I can tell you my part.”

  I came alive. “Don’t you dare blame any of this on Mom! She’s been hurt enough.”

  He looked at the keys in his hand, rearranging them as he talked. “Okay,” he said. “Here’s my part.”

  I waited for it.

  “After helping Gail get back on her feet—”

  “Just say it! You had an affair. She got pregnant. You kept it a secret!”

  His head jerked up like I’d slapped him.

  “Just facts, Dad.”

  He paced back and forth along the kitchen island between us, drumming his fingers rhythmically. “Here are the facts, and I only speak for myself.” He stopped in front of me, and I stepped back until I was against the counter.

  “Your mom was injured. That’s a fact. And she was distant…”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “She stopped speaking to me.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You were having a lot of emotional problems after the accident, and so was your mom. She was depressed.”

  I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he said, “That’s a fact.”

  “When did you start the affair with Gail?” I asked.

  “A couple of months after,” he said. “She got pregnant right away.”

  I shivered, trying to get the thought out of my mind. “Did Mom find out?

  He nodded.

  I took a step closer. “She knows?” I grabbed the edge of the island for support as it hit me hard: I was just finding out what everyone else already knew.

  “Did Uncle Steve and Aunt Mimi know, too? Am I the only one who never knew?”

  “I was going to tell you so many times. I tried, but I couldn’t do it, Kennie.” He poured himself another drink and downed it. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He covered his face and sobbed.

  Everything was a lie.

  This was not my dad. He didn’t cry. I stayed where I was, unmoved by his emotion.

  As fast as it started it stopped, and as he recovered I could hear his barely audible counting. That got me, and my eyes welled up again. I wanted to bolt, but Mom walked in. I ran to her and hugged her hard. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I’m so, so sorry.”

  She murmured something and put her keys on the table.

  “Kennie,” she said, looking at the floor.

  “It’ll be okay, Mom,” I said. “It’s over.” I quickly reconfigured the family: Mom and me in a condo, and Dad in Portland. With them.

  She looked at Dad. He shifted on his feet, hands in his pockets. I felt a change in the air.

  “What? A divorce? No kidding. You don’t have to break it to me gently,” I said.

  “There’s more, Kennie,” Mom said.

  I held my stomach and looked from Mom to Dad and back at Mom. She took a deep breath and blew it out.

  “Don’t try to make it better, Mom,” I said.

  She shook her head and sat down at the kitchen table. Covering her face, she said, “It’s not as simple as Dad was bad, Mom was good.” Now she was the one crying.

  I brought a tissue box over and sat across from her. “It’s going to be okay, Mom, I know it will.” I waved a tissue in front of her, and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “Kendra, listen to me,” she said. There was an edge to her voice.

  “Mom,” I whispered, bracing myself.

  “We were best friends. Gail, me, your dad, and Hal. The four of us did everything together,” she said, bursting into tears again. “In the beginning, it was just Gail and me. Then she married Hal, and Dad and Hal became close—best friends, too.”

  Dad sat down at the head of the table. I didn’t acknowledge him but instead took Mom’s hands and squeezed them. “I’m so sorry, Mom,” I said, imagining the devastation she felt—the betrayal.

  “At first it was great. We sailed every weekend. We cooked meals and went places together. You probably remember,” she said, smiling weakly.

  “I remember, Mom,” I said.

  “I don’t know exactly when things changed, but it was sometime after you were born. Gail and Hal had tried everything to have a baby, and they couldn’t. It drove a wedge between them.”

  I thought of Jilly.

  “The more they fought, the more Hal came over to see us. For support.”

  Dad cleared his throat.

  “Even when Dad wasn’t home,” she said.

  I looked at him. He was fiddling with his keys again.

  “Hal and I became close,” she said, twisting her tissue.

  It was a few seconds before I got it, but when I did, I was up and at the door.

  “I’m so sorry, Kendra,” Mom said. “Hal and I fell in love. Nobody knew.”

  I looked at Dad. I couldn’t read him.

  “When he drowned, I blamed your father.”

  She was crying again, but I couldn’t feel anything for them. A wall was coming down, and I wanted it to.

  I stayed at the door, ready to leave if my questions weren’t answered.

  Mom got up and came toward me.

  I put my hand up. “Stop.” I needed to think, and her hugging and crying was confusing me. Dad’s phone vibrated. He turned it off and looked at me.

  “I don’t get this,” I said, ind
icating them together, as a couple.

  “It probably seems crazy, but we’re married, and even though it’s unconventional, we love each other, Kendra,” Dad said.

  “Just not in the traditional way,” Mom said.

  Her upbeat tone set me off. “What?” I said, going to the counter for support. “Please don’t.” I shook my head. “Just tell me straight?”

  Dad stood and motioned to Mom.

  Mom nodded and sniffed.

  “We could’ve gotten divorced, but we loved you and we loved our family,” Dad said. “We stayed together in full knowledge of what we had done and what we were doing.”

  Mom cleared her throat. “Kendra, we stayed married to the family. Our family.”

  “But what about his other family?” I wasn’t buying it. “He was living a lie, even if a couple of people knew the truth!”

  That shut them both up. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “I know,” Dad said. “The older you and Jilly got, the easier it was to lie about it.”

  “We were going to tell you so many times,” Mom said.

  I went back to the door.

  “Please wait,” Mom said. She rushed to me and hugged me even while I stood stiff and motionless. “Just know that we both love you and we’ll do whatever we need to do to make it right again.”

  I opened the door. It would never be right. It never was right. It was a lie.

  * * *

  I was at the Costellos’, in Jenn’s bed, when the door cracked open in the middle of the night.

  “I’m back,” she said, elbowing her way under the covers. We hugged and she said, “Tell me everything.”

  I caught her up. Even about Will. She was oddly silent. It wasn’t the Jenn response I’d expected.

  “I guess I did have a Breakout Summer, just not the kind I’d planned,” I said.

  I heard her sigh into the dark. “Me too. Doug broke up with me.”

  “What?” I took her hand.

  “No, let me correct myself. Doug’s mom broke up with me.”

  I made a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a choke.

  “She said that he was feeling smothered by me. According to her, my energy sucks his energy, and when I’m around, he can’t find his creative life force.”

  We held each other and laughed until Bo pounded on the wall.