Generous Lies

by Robin Patchen

  "You haven't been dumped, Garrison—"

  "Me?" His hand flew to his chest. "No, not me. You're confused, obviously. I'm his dashingly handsome twin. My brother's the bonehead. Gets dumped all the time. Like daily. Hourly, in fact." He shook his head. "He's quite a disappointment, that one."

  "You can tell him he didn't do anything wrong."

  Garrison lowered the paper as the amusement slid off his face like a mask. "That can't be true. Can we please talk?"

  The part of her that wanted to send him away, to never see him again...that part lost the battle as she left the door open and walked to her living room.

  She sat on her favorite chair while he closed the door behind him.

  "Have a seat."

  Garrison paused and gazed at the room, taking in the kitchen, dining area, and living area that made up most of her downstairs. "It's gorgeous."

  She followed his gaze and had to agree. She'd spent a lot of money remodeling. Top of the line appliances, granite countertop. The tile floors that looked like wood were her most recent upgrade, and she loved them. Durable and beautiful. She figured, if she had to spend the rest of her life trapped, she might as well be comfortable in her prison.

  He sat across from her on the sofa. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier."

  She'd known he would be. Too tired, not thinking straight, worried about his kid. Desperate for help. None of that meant he truly loved her. "It doesn't matter."

  "My timing was terrible. And I didn't know I felt it until I said it. But when I said it, I knew it was true."

  She let the words process. "You mean when you said you shouldn't have listened to me?"

  "What? No. Are you still mad at me for that?"

  "I'm not mad. Your son wouldn't have gotten in that accident if you hadn't called the police. That was my fault."

  "He ran into a tree because he lied to me, stole my car, got high, and then decided to drive home. That had nothing to do with you."

  "But if he hadn't seen the cops—"

  "Eric didn't even turn on his lights. He was following at a distance, just wanted to make sure Aiden got home. Aiden was so high I'm amazed he could drive at all."

  "Oh."

  Garrison heaved out a breath. "My timing...I mean telling you I love you. Today, on the phone. That was stupid, and I'm sorry. And..." He searched her face, met her eyes. What did he see there? What did he see in her that made him believe she was worth his time?

  "Obviously, you don't feel the same way about me."

  She looked away. "I can't do this."

  "Why not?"

  She shrugged, looked around her perfectly decorated condo, usually her escape, her solace. But was that really what she wanted? Safety? Silence? Or did she want more?

  "Is there someone else?" he asked.

  "No. Just you. I mean, not that there's you."

  "Okay." The word hung there, inviting her to explain.

  She had no idea what to say.

  "Okay." This time, the word held resignation. "You're making yourself clear, and I need to take the hint." He stood, headed for the door. "You want us to get out of your cabin?"

  She stood and followed but stopped a safe distance away. Too far to reach out, too far to touch. "The cabin is yours for as long as you need it."

  "You'll have to let me pay for it, considering..."

  She sighed. As if she cared about the money. "Whatever makes you feel comfortable."

  He set his hand on her doorknob, and tears prickled behind her eyes.

  He turned to face her, studied her. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't seem to force her gaze away. His hand dropped from the doorknob, and he stepped nearer. He seemed to wait for her to react, but she was frozen. Fear? Hope? She didn't know.

  He took another step toward her, then another until he was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. He reached out, rested his hands on her hips.

  She told herself to back away.

  He leaned down, and she looked up. His gaze flicked to her lips, back to her eyes, and he waited. Now was her chance to stop this. To protect herself. To stay safe.

  He closed the inches between them and kissed her. Gently, once. Twice. Then longer.

  She melted into it, felt warm and safe and protected. Her heart stirred, longed for more of this, more of him.

  She stepped away.

  "I'm sorry." He took a step back. "No, that's a lie. I'm not even a little sorry." His arms hung at his sides, his eyes narrowed as he studied her face. "I'm not great at this, but you don't seem like the type of girl who kisses every guy who knocks on her door with a fake survey. I think maybe you have some feelings for me, too."

  "It doesn't matter."

  "It does matter to me, Sam, considering I'm in love with you. Seems the least you could do is explain."

  What could she tell him? That among her many fears was falling for someone again? That she was too damaged to ever be worthy of his time or attention?

  But the broken look on his face melted her resolve. This man deserved better. He needed to know it. Then he could move on.

  "Fine." She resumed her seat and nodded to the sofa across from her. "I'm not sure what you want me to say."

  He leaned forward. "Why don't you tell me what you're afraid of?"

  That was one of the things she was afraid of—telling him. Telling anybody. "You have more important things to do than listen to my issues."

  "I really don't."

  "Don't you have a son who needs you?"

  "Aiden's with Nate, and I'm sure he's enjoying the break from me as much as I'm enjoying the break from him. They took me to pick up the rental, and then they headed to the lake to get your boat ready. Nate said he checked with you."

  "Right." Nate had texted that morning, before her conversation with Garrison.

  "I told them if I wasn't there when they got the boat in the water, to take it out, and I'd call when I got there."

  "But still, your focus—"

  "Sam, I get to have a life, too, you know. My focus has been on Aiden, and it will be again, but right now, I want to focus on you. There's plenty of time for waterskiing."

  "I still don't know what you want from me."

  "Tell me what you're afraid of."

  "Fine. I'm afraid everything. Maybe you should get out your piece of paper, and you can keep a list. I'm afraid of the woods. I'm afraid of the dark. I'm especially afraid of the woods in the dark. I'm afraid of—"

  "Let me rephrase." He held up his hand. "Can you tell me what caused all these fears?"

  Just the thought of sharing that story had her cheeks filling with fire, her heart filling with shame. She looked at her hands, folded on her lap, wished Garrison would just go away.

  But oh, she could still taste that kiss.

  "There is a story, then." His voice was gentle.

  Oh, yes, there was a story.

  "Have you ever told anybody?"

  She looked up. "My counselor."

  "Pretend I'm him."

  "Her."

  He spoke in a falsetto. "I could be her."

  She smiled, and a tiny portion of the tension fell away.

  "Maybe you should take the couch," he said, "and I'll sit in the chair. I'll do my best Freud." Now he did a terrible Austrian accent. "Ven did you first realize you vere in love wit your chihuahua?"

  "You're insane."

  "Nine, fraulein. You are ze crazy one."

  That was too true. "Obviously you've never been in counseling."

  His smile faded. "For a little while, with Charlene. Maybe it would have worked if we'd had Freud, but..."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Nothing to be sorry for." He smiled tenderly, earnestly. "I really would love to hear the story, but if you don't want to tell me, I understand."

  She didn't want to tell him.

  She did want to tell him. Because then he'd understand why this could never happen between them.

  Right. That was a
colossal lie if she'd ever heard one. She wanted to tell him, and she wanted him to say it was all okay, that he understood, that he could still care for her despite it.

  But would he, or would he walk away? And even if he didn't, could she ever fully give her heart to him after what had happened?

  She had no idea, but she did know one thing. Keeping it to herself hadn't done her any good. If she was going to lose him, she might as well lose him for the right reasons. She didn't want to let her fears rule her life anymore. As cozy as this condo was, it would never warm her the way Garrison's kiss had.

  Chapter 35

  "You're never going to find them with your face in that screen."

  Matty slid his phone in his pocket. "I can hear when a car is coming. It just takes a second to look up."

  "You need to keep your eyes on the road, kid. The phone is a distraction." Frank sipped his coffee and stared out the window.

  Frank, Matty thought. At one time, Matty had wanted this man to be a dad to him, a real dad like Mr. Kopp was to Aiden. What a joke. After spending the last few hours with him, after seeing his father's shortcomings and selfishness, Matty no longer believed this man could ever be a dad.

  From now on, he'd just be Frank.

  The realization was a few days too late.

  A car passed. A red pickup truck.

  "Was that them?"

  "Like I said, he drives a black—"

  "I know what you told me," Frank said. "But what if they're not in the Camry, huh?"

  Matty didn't see the point in arguing. He and Frank had done enough of that in the previous nine hours. "Looked like a black woman, so no, it wasn't them."

  "Could be a friend."

  "It wasn't them."

  Matty took a long sip of his Dr. Pepper to cool his frustration. He grabbed a snack from the bag on the floor, a little package of powdered donuts. They'd bought a good selection of food at a truck stop in Connecticut, but there were just a few items left. Matty longed for a real meal, a burger and fries, a pizza. But Frank didn't want to be seen in town, wanted to stay off the radar.

  Matty didn't know why and didn't want to think about it. Surely they weren't going to be committing a crime. No matter what Dad—Frank—planned, Matty wouldn't be doing anything illegal. He just wanted to get the package, call Robert, and deliver it. And whatever happened to Frank after that wouldn't be Matty's problem.

  Still, the thought had him swallowing hard. He couldn't think about betraying his father. Couldn't think about his mother and brother being in danger. He focused on the dry donut and decided not to think at all.

  Another car passed, an SUV. The driver was a woman. No passenger. "Obviously not them."

  "We'll give it another hour. If we don't see them, you can call."

  "I'd really rather—"

  "I don't care what you'd rather. I gotta get those diamonds. If Kopp doesn't like you because of this, that's the price you gotta pay for shoving the package in his car."

  "I told you a thousand times—"

  "I know the story. You should have gone back for it sooner."

  Matty wasn't about to have this argument again.

  Another car approached, this one a silver sedan. Not the black Camry, but Matty looked closely. The driver was a dude, curly hair. The passenger...

  His heart rate kicked up a notch. "That's him."

  "Kopp? You sure? He looked—"

  "No. Aiden was in the passenger seat. I don't know who the driver was."

  Frank swung the car around and followed. He closed the distance too fast and followed too closely, but Matty didn't say anything. He had no influence on his father's actions.

  Less than a mile later, the car turned left, and Frank followed. He kept his distance this time, going slowly along the rough road. The sedan turned down a driveway, and Frank passed the house, went past another driveway and turned around in the third one. He crept back toward where Aiden had gone, and Matty peered through the woods.

  "I see the house," Matty said.

  Frank stopped. "Did they go inside?" He looked, too. "I don't see a Camry."

  "Me, either. Looks like just Aiden went in."

  They waited in the silent car, watched the front of the rundown cabin.

  "Why don't I just run up there and ask him?" Matty said. "Mr. K's not here, but Aiden can tell me where the car is without getting his dad involved."

  Frank seemed to consider that possibility, then shook his head. "The other guy's a wildcard, though. Now that we know where they are, we should wait until Kopp comes back. I can break in the trunk, get the package, and get out of here without anyone knowing we were in town. I'd rather not get the fed involved if we can help it."

  "Former fed."

  "Once a cop, always a cop."

  Again, Matty had the impression his father had more planned than he was letting on. Or maybe he was just planning for every contingency. Considering he'd been a criminal all his life and had never been charged with a crime, Matty figured he should trust his father's instincts. Unfortunately, trusting his father felt as natural as the powdered donuts that were sitting in his stomach like concrete.

  After about five minutes, Aiden came outside carrying a couple of towels and wearing swim shorts and flip-flops. He slammed the door behind him.

  "Hmm," Frank said. "Looks like they'll be gone a while. We'll follow, see if they meet up with the Camry, go from there."

  Matty couldn't come up with any reason why that wasn't a good idea. None of this felt right, spying on his best friend and his dad, but he was out of options.

  Chapter 36

  "It happened in college."

  Garrison had to keep his head together and not scare her away. Then, maybe she'd get through the whole story. He wanted to get nearer to her, but perhaps she needed the distance.

  "There was this guy. Chandler."

  He refrained from commenting on the name, just barely.

  "We met in one of my business courses. He was sweet and charming."

  Charming Chandler. Garrison hated him already.

  "I was a freshman." Her voice was flat, like she was reading numbers out of the phone book. "He was a sophomore. We were together for a long time. My junior year, I moved in with him. My parents didn't approve, but I thought we were in love. I was, anyway."

  She stared out the window for a long time.

  "I got pregnant. It's such a stupid story. Such a familiar story. Mundane, even."

  "It wasn't stupid or familiar or mundane to you."

  Her gaze met his. "It wasn't. You're right. I was thrilled. An idiot, apparently, because Chandler..."

  Obviously wasn't thrilled.

  "He told me to get rid of it." A short pause. Then, "It."

  "What a..." She was a Christian. She probably wouldn't appreciate any of the words that were on his tongue. He settled on "...turd."

  Nearly a smile. "I just knew he'd come around. I stayed with him. I waited, thinking when I started to show that he'd fall in love with the baby, too. When he could feel the baby moving, when he really understood there was a child, his child. I could imagine him, the baby. Pink cheeks, soft skin..." Her words trailed off a moment. Then she said, "I kept going to classes. The baby was due in the summer. I figured I'd find childcare—my parents would help me. By summer, he'd have graduated and gotten a job. I could finish college. We'd get married. It would be perfect."

  He hated to think where the story was going, almost didn't want to hear it.

  "We went to a party one night. Everybody was drinking, except me, of course. I wasn't going to risk my baby. But Chandler was drinking. I thought he was having fun. And he was—for a while. Then, when it was time to go..."

  Garrison resisted the urge to cross the room and sit with her, to hold her hand and offer his support.

  "I wanted to drive. He wouldn't let me. I thought he'd had too much to drink, but we were way out in the country, and I could tell he was getting agitated. He kept yelling at me to get in the ca
r. He was so loud, and there were a lot of people outside, and they were looking at us. So I just...I got in." She paused, added, "It's not what you think. We weren't in an accident. He just started driving in the wrong direction, away from campus. I asked him where he was going. He ignored me. Told me to shut the...whatever up. I started to get nervous. Not scared, though. Not like...I didn't think he'd hurt me."

  Her voice returned to the monotone she'd started with. "We went to school at Plymouth State. It's up north. In the mountains. I loved it up there. It was so pretty, and we used to go hiking and biking. Skiing in the winter. I had friends who had four-wheelers, and we'd take them out.

  "Chandler kept driving north, away from campus. Away from any place I'd ever been before. Away from the main roads and highways. He was so angry, the way he was gripping the steering wheel. He wouldn't talk to me. Wouldn't answer me when I talked to him. And then he made a few turns, which felt random, but I don't know. Maybe he knew exactly where he was going. Maybe he'd planned the whole thing.

  "He stopped on this narrow single-lane dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but a drainage ditch, and behind that, thick forest on both sides of the road. He came around the car, opened my door, and yanked me out."

  The image was so clear in Garrison's head.

  "I had my phone in my hand. I'd been thinking about calling someone or texting or something. I didn't, though. I believed...I never thought. Even that far north. Away from everything. I was so stupid."

  "You trusted him." Garrison spit the words out, then immediately wanted them back. He had to shut up and let her talk.

  A moment passed. Then another. Then, "I did. I trusted him. I felt safe with him. He took my phone, shoved it in his pocket, and got in my face. 'This is your fault. If you'd ended it like I said, everything could have gone back to normal.'

  "I didn't know what to say, and I was afraid I'd make it worse. I thought maybe he was going to hurt me. Maybe try to...to end my pregnancy himself. But he didn't. He yanked me to the edge of the gravel road and shoved me. I stumbled. Fell into the ditch. There was a little stream there. The top of it was covered with a thin layer of ice, and I remember the tinny sound it made when I cracked it, the way the icy water seeped into my clothes.