The Ugly Truth

by Cheryel Hutton

  “I promise.” He pulled me to my feet and hugged me close. “And there will be no ugly.”

  I didn’t believe him, but I’d blundered through this far, why not take my humiliation all the way. After all, this was Ugly Creek, after all. Why not give the place an opportunity to live up to its name?

  At my expense.

  Chapter 17

  The sun edged the top of the mountain as I stood in the doorway of Ugly Creek High School’s gymnasium. I gripped Jake’s hand so hard I was sure I was hurting him. He didn’t let on though, just smiled reassuringly my way every couple of minutes.

  Several people glanced toward me, and some stared. I knew I wasn’t welcome, but it was probably too late to back out now.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” I whispered.

  “Nonsense,” Jake whispered back.

  Against my better judgment, I walked with him across the blue tarp protecting the floor toward the maze of tables covered with white tablecloths. At the back of the space, the stage was again set up.

  I had no business being here. This was the night to honor Virgil Clark. This was a time for his friends and family. I’d never even met the man. Then there was the little problem that his family, along with most of the people here tonight, hated my guts.

  I’d thought I was nervous last time I’d entered this room, just a few days ago, but that was basket weaving. This was calculus, and I suck at calculus.

  “It’ll be okay,” Jake whispered, wrapping his arm around me.

  Sure. Any time now those folks over there giving me the death stare will become my very best friends.

  Speaking of best friends, I suddenly realized we were headed straight to a table filled with people I was quite sure didn’t want to see me.

  “Jake,” I whispered, “maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  “Trust me.”

  Well hell, I was here, I might as well make a complete fool out of myself. So, with legs of wet French fries, trembling so hard I was beginning to believe we were having an earthquake, I pasted something between a smile and a grimace on my face, and walked toward my doom.

  When I got close to the table, I saw Maddie turn and look my way. Oh boy.

  She was on her feet and rushing toward me. Did she have a weapon in her hand?

  “I’m so sorry!” she said as she grabbed me and hugged so tightly I struggled to breathe.

  I felt my legs give out completely and I would have sat in the floor if it weren’t for Maddie holding me up.

  “You don’t hate me?” I whispered.

  Maddie’s blue eyes filled with tears as she held my gaze. “Absolutely not! I love you. I let my fear and insecurity get ahead of my good sense.” She turned her gaze to Jake. “And I damn near lost both of my best friends. Will you ever forgive me?” She looked back and forth between us.

  “Of course we will,” Jake said. I nodded my agreement since my throat was too clogged with thankfulness to speak.

  “I hope you’ll extend that forgiveness to me,” Margaret said.

  I turned to her and saw her red-rimmed eyes.

  “I did exactly what I hate other people doing, I judged you harshly without knowing the whole story.”

  I squeezed Maddie once before I took my shaky legs over to hug Margaret. “I know how it looked. I don’t blame you for believing your own eyes.”

  She hugged me, then glanced behind me as she spoke. “You’re a lucky man, Jake. You’d better hold on to this woman.”

  “I plan to.”

  “The whole town hates me,” I told her.

  She shrugged. “Minor problem.”

  I heard my bitter laugh and cringed. She gently kissed my cheek and shoved me into a chair. Jake took up residence in the next one. Maddie sat next to him, beside her was Liza and an empty chair that presumably was Steve’s. Margaret sat next to Henry, who had a smug smile on his face. He winked my way, and I couldn’t help but smile back toward him. I’d have to tell him later how much I appreciated his open-mindedness toward me.

  There was the sound of microphone tapping and testing, and then the mayor of Ugly Creek, a tall, strong-shouldered man by the name of Gene Stump, was introduced and stepped up to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are here tonight to honor the memory of a brave man who gave generously to this community his entire life. A man whose last breath was taken while rescuing victims of the fire that destroyed the gym whose replacement we’re in right now.”

  I heard a soft sob, and saw Maddie’s chin trembling. Jake took my hand in his, and I glanced into a face pulled tight with painful remembrance.

  “Virgil Clark was not only brave,” the speaker continued, “he was also a hard worker and generous with his time. Many of us learned to play softball from Mr. Clark. He not only coached a team, he took time to personally coach any kid, like me, who was having trouble. He also gave his time to literacy classes. All this while running Clark Electronics and working as a volunteer fireman. He was an amazing man, and I’m honored to present this plaque to his widow and daughter.”

  Margaret and Madison went up to the small stage and stood beside the mayor. “What the two of them don’t know,” the mayor continued, “is that due to the generosity of the local businesspeople, a scholarship fund has been started in Virgil Clark’s name to help the children of our past and present volunteer firefighters, to achieve their dreams.”

  The applause was so loud it hurt my ears, while tears temporally blinded me. Quickly I swiped my eyes.

  When I looked back toward the front, Maddie and her mother wiped away tears. They shook hands with the mayor, posed for photos, then brought the plaque back to our table. It was a beautiful polished wooden piece with a shiny brass plate mounted on it. The inscription read, “In memory of Virgil Clark, hero. May your memory inspire others for generations to come.”

  I swallowed back the sob that rose in my throat. I really wish I could have known this amazing person. I hate to admit this, but I was just a little jealous of Maddie having such a man for a father. Unlike mine, who took off without a second thought. Or my stepfather, who thought he was God’s gift to Crooked Hollow.

  “Another person has requested to speak tonight,” The mayor said. “I’d like to turn the microphone over to Steve Zapata.”

  Steve walked up to the podium, and I watched as he stood behind the microphone. He kept licking his lips, and his face was a touch pale. So Zapata wasn’t fond of public speaking. I could relate. He looked into the crowd, took a deep breath, and began.

  “A great disservice has been done to one among us.” He held up a copy of the Tattler, and a rumble moved through the crowd. I was suddenly aware a huge hunk of the folks in that room had turned to look my way. Peachy. Just frigging peachy.

  “I want to assure you our visitor, Ms. Stephanova, did not, I repeat, did not, send this photo to this or any other media.”

  There was an even louder rumble than before, and one voice shouted out over the rest, “She’s a traitor to our town!”

  There was a rustle of agreement.

  “She’s trying to discredit us,” another voice yelled.

  “No,” Steve spoke firmly, though softly enough to capture the attention of the crowd. “She isn’t. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This picture is not real and was not sent by Ms. Stephanova. I’ve checked her computer, and can state definitely that the manufactured photo was sent from an iPhone that does not belong to her.”

  “It was sent from my iPhone.”

  I gasped at the voice, as Brandon stepped out onto the stage beside Steve. My brother held up his phone, a grim expression on his face.

  “My name is Brandon, and I’ve held a grudge against my sister Stephie, Ms. Stephanova, for years. I hung on to my hard feelings for so long I forgot what it was I was angry about. A couple of days ago, Butch Johnson and I broke into Margaret Clark’s house to check my sister’s computer.” There was a mass intake of breath followed by the rumbling of murmured conversation. He waited
until it quieted somewhat before he continued. “Johnson convinced me that I would find something on there I could use to incriminate or embarrass her. I know my sister pretty well, so it wasn’t hard to figure out how to get into her computer. ”

  I saw him swallow.

  “I didn’t realize Butch had his own agenda. When we didn’t find anything on her computer, he talked me into using a picture Stephie had taken and Photoshopping a hairy creature onto it. Then I sent the fake photo and a fake interview to The Weekly Tattler.” He indicated the copy he held. “I wanted to hurt my sister, but when she was hurt, I realized how selfish I’d been and turned myself in. I apologize for all the problems I’ve caused. And I thank Mrs. Clark from the bottom of my heart for not pressing charges.”

  Cameras flashed all around as Brandon stepped down and disappeared toward the back of the gym.

  Steve stepped back to the microphone. “I’d like to ask this be put behind us so we can get back to the real reason for this gathering. I think we’ll all agree, what that young man just did is an excellent example of what we came here to honor: heroism.”

  With that, Steve stepped down. Ignoring questions and comments, he walked to our table and sat beside his wife.

  I leaned close to Jake. “He lied. That picture was real. Won’t he get in trouble?”

  Jake shook his head. “No, I promise he won’t.” He squeezed my hand. “Quit worrying and relax. Everything is going to work out.”

  Slowly I realized the looks I was getting now were friendlier. Smiles replaced the glares. Some people seemed uncomfortable looking toward me, but all in all, things began to relax. Maybe it was my imagination, but I almost began to feel acceptance taking root around me.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Aunt Octavia standing behind me. “I told you we take care of our own here.” She smiled, gave my shoulder a squeeze, and turned away.

  My head was spinning, and I didn’t know quite how to deal with it all.

  There was food and socializing, and I enjoyed myself more than I would have imagined. Before long, Jake leaned close and whispered, “Don’t wear yourself out too much, we still have the Dyami party tomorrow.”

  “The what?”

  “Dyami is what the furry guys call their species.”

  “There’s a party? And I’m invited?”

  “Yes and yes.” He grinned my way, and I realized I couldn’t imagine life without him.

  “We need to talk,” I said.

  He nodded, but I saw a little cloud of worry in his dark eyes.

  “Don’t you trust me?” I whispered.

  “With my life,” he whispered back.

  I hoped I was worthy of his faith.

  Chapter 18

  Two hours later, we sat on Jake’s couch and sipped Coke. He was looking at me with a frown and I could see his chest heaving in rapid breathing. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Jake. There’s a reason I’m nervous about commitment.”

  “Let me guess, you’re really Reese Witherspoon and you have a husband back in Alabama?” He smiled, but the worry in his eyes gave lie to the joke.

  “Nothing like that. It’s about my family.”

  “Tell me, sweetheart.”

  My heart reached for him, and it was all I could do to keep my thoughts straight enough to say what needed saying. “My dad left us when I was five and Mom was still pregnant with Brandon. He just took off and we never knew what happened. Mom hired a private investigator, but he and the cops said the same thing, that he didn’t want to be found.” I paused to swallow back the pain filling my throat.

  “I hate to say this, but are you certain there was no foul play?”

  I sucked in the breath I needed to speak again. “I don’t know the specifics, but Mom was convinced there wasn’t. She seemed so certain I never thought to look into it myself.” I stopped to wipe at the tears trying to escape my tightly held control.

  “If you want, I know an excellent PI. I’d be happy to talk to him.”

  “Let me think about it. Please.”

  Jake brushed back an errant strand of hair. “Whatever you want, honey.”

  I took a moment to get myself together for the rest. “Not long after Brandon was born Mom met a man, William Donaldson. Before I realized what was happening, Mom was engaged to William. We had to call him that, William. Not Bill or Will or Willie, or whatever. Always William. He said it was to teach us respect.” I turned away from Jake, not sure I could continue with the story.

  “Tell me,” he said, his hand gently rubbing my back.

  “He was big on the respect thing. And the discipline thing. He made it clear he thought Mom had let us run wild and he set out to ‘tame’ us.” I took another moment to allow the hatred I felt for the man to rise and then die down enough I could speak.

  “He took that ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ thing to the max. He used any excuse to hit me or Brandon. I tried to tell Mom, but she wouldn’t listen. I don’t know if she just chose to ignore what was in front of her, or if he convinced her we were so bad we needed violent treatment to keep us in line. The worst wasn’t the beatings, though. The worst was him saying over and over and over we’d never amount to anything. That we couldn’t be successful because we had our father’s blood in our veins.”

  I looked into Jake’s horrified eyes. “That’s why I worked so hard to make good grades, to go to Columbia, to land a job at a D.C. magazine. I wanted to show him I was somebody.”

  “You are somebody, honey. You are a very, very special lady, not to mention one hell of a photographer.” He pulled me close. “Look, Margaret can manage the store from here. Maybe I’ll even sell the place. There’s got to be something I can do in D.C.”

  “You’d never be happy there.” I put a hand against Jake’s cheek, luxuriating in the roughness of his five o’clock shadow. “The truth is I hate D.C. and I never liked that job. I took it to prove I could, but I don’t care anymore what my mom or stepdad thinks. I didn’t realize how much I missed small town life until I came here.”

  A smile began to pull at Jake’s sexy, yummy lips. “So, you think you might be happy in a town called Ugly Creek?”

  I felt my own smile grow on my face. “I’m beginning to think this is the only place I could be happy. I love this town. And I love you.”

  He pulled me close and we spent time doing some good old-fashioned necking. Then, we went to bed and did even more.

  ****

  By noon the next day, most of the town was gathered in a clearing in the middle of nowhere. The woods were thick around us, we’d had to walk more than a mile to get there—though four-wheelers were used for those who couldn’t make the trip and for some of the bulkier supplies. “The entire area will be cleaned up later,” Jake told me. “The cleaners know what they’re doing, too. It’ll be impossible to know this event took place here.”

  I settled back in one of the lawn chairs we’d brought with us. “Do the Bigfeet…I mean the Dyami, live near here?”

  Jake sat in the other chair and stretched out his long legs. “No, they live in caves you wouldn’t see the entrance to if you were right in front of one.”

  “No wonder they’ve never been proven to exist.”

  He grinned. “It’s a real conspiracy.”

  I wasn’t in such a lighthearted mood. “I almost blew the whole thing wide open.”

  “Not you.”

  “Brandon.” I picked a bit of lint off my shorts. “Using a photo I took. I used personal info to lock the computer and the file, something not recommended.”

  Jake squeezed my hand. “You took a picture of something amazing. You locked it on your laptop. You couldn’t have known your brother would break into your computer. ”

  “I still feel bad about the whole thing.”

  “That caring heart of yours is why I love you.” That expression, the one he had on his face as he leaned in to kiss me. Wow! I was one lucky woman.

  “Would you lik
e some iced tea?” he asked.

  “Sure.” I watched him go toward the long table, covered with food and drinks. Handsome, well-built, a rear that could inspire poetry. Yum.

  “I told you that you belonged here.”

  I turned to smile at Aunt Octavia. She was dressed in a pink jogging outfit, and was barefoot. I started to ask what that was about, but before I could, she spoke, “I have a message from your father.”

  I swallowed hard. All of a sudden I understood what made Jake uncomfortable with Auntie’s messages. “Is he dead?” I asked.

  “Yes, he has passed beyond our plane of existence,” she said. “But don’t mourn him. His only regret was he couldn’t be there for his children. He wishes a wonderful life for you, and hopes soon his son will also find happiness.”

  I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned to see Brandon standing beside me. “I’m really sorry, sis.”

  I popped out of the chair and grabbed him with everything I was worth, convinced that as soon as I touched him he’d back away, but instead he pulled me into a warm, snug, welcome hug. “I missed you,” I told him.

  “I missed you too.” He gave me a little breathing room, and I looked up into red, tear-filled eyes. “I was such an idiot,” he said.

  “I’m sorry I left you with him.”

  “You couldn’t take me with you.” He swiped at his wet face. “I knew that when you left, but I resented you for leaving me anyway. I’m just glad you got out of there.”

  “I love you, Brandon. It almost killed me to leave my little brother with that monster, but I thought I had to go to Columbia. I thought I had to show him I could be somebody.”

  “I’m proud of you, sis. I’m proud of your good grades, that you went to Columbia, that you have a great job. I always knew you were an amazing photographer, now the world knows too.”

  I swallowed. “Um, Brandon, I’m not going back to D.C. I’m going to stay here in Ugly Creek.”

  A slow smile pulled at Brandon’s lips, revealing that cute dimple in his right cheek, the one the girls always went crazy over. “It’s that guy isn’t it? That Jake guy Butch is so crazy jealous of.”