Generous Lies

by Robin Patchen

  "I had to protect the baby. I lay there, my arms wrapped around my middle, waiting for him to hurt me. To kick me or something. And then I heard the car start. He drove away."

  "He left you there?"

  She nodded.

  "What did you do?"

  "I thought he'd come back. Even then, I was still so stupid. I thought he loved me. I thought he'd come to his senses and come back for me. And then I was so sad. I lay there in the icy stream. I had on a jacket, but..."

  Garrison couldn't stand it any longer. He crossed the room, stood in front of her, and offered his hands.

  She stood, and he folded her into his arms. He held her against him, felt her shivering despite the heat, and wanted nothing more than to go back in time and rescue her from that monster. He didn't ask her for more of the story. She'd tell him when she was ready. Right now, he wanted to hold her, protect her forever.

  They stood there like that for a long time.

  Finally, her shivering stopped, and she leaned back. He looked into her eyes. They were red-rimmed, moist.

  "Thank you," she said.

  "For what?"

  "For this." She leaned against his chest, and he held her close, ran his hand over her silky hair, enjoyed how perfectly her tiny frame fit against his oversize one.

  "I need to get through it." She sat, and he took the chair beside her.

  "I was so cold, shivering uncontrollably, and then I wasn't. I felt fine. Perfectly comfortable. I sat up, saw the forest, and wanted to walk into it. I'd always loved the woods. The trees seemed to call me."

  Hypothermia. The thought had him swallowing hard. He could have lost her before he'd even met her. "Did someone find you?"

  "No. Not...really. But yeah, someone did."

  That was clear as string theory.

  "There was this voice. Like...maybe I was crazy. But a voice told me to stand up."

  "But nobody was there?"

  She blew out a long breath. "I know you're not a Christian, but I am. This is why I am. This voice told me that he loved me. That I was worthy. That I was not meant to die there. He told me to get up and start walking. I stood and stared into the trees. I can't tell you how strong the pull was to walk deep into those woods and disappear. It was so irrational, so bizarre, but I wanted to be surrounded by that forest more than I'd ever wanted anything. I walked a few yards in, would have kept going that direction. But the voice told me to turn around. Go the other way."

  She'd been hallucinating, obviously. Another symptom of hypothermia.

  "The voice was commanding, filled with love. I staggered back to the road and started walking, not the direction I'd come from, but further down the road." She was quiet for a minute or two, which gave him time to picture the scene, her stumbling, hallucinating, all alone in the dark mountains. Had there been a moon? Had Sam been dressed for a hike in the woods? No. She'd been a college student. She'd probably have worn something pretty and totally impractical. Probably high heels—she wore those a lot. What had the temperature been? Cold enough that there was ice.

  His heart hurt thinking about it.

  "I know what you're thinking," she said. "You think I was hallucinating. That the voice was nothing. My subconscious or something. But I don't think so. Because it wasn't just a voice. It was a presence. He was with me. He was warm and comfortable. I could feel his love. Does that make sense?"

  "Not really."

  "Okay." She nodded slowly, deliberately. "The fact that it doesn't make sense to you—does that mean it's not true? Or is it possible that maybe I had an experience you've never had?"

  "Obviously it's possible."

  "But you don't believe it?"

  He shrugged. Wished she'd get back to her story. "It's not that I don't believe there's a God. I mean, the world is pretty well designed, and I'm not somebody who believes it all just happened. But who is that God? What’s it like? I don't know."

  "Maybe I do."

  Maybe she did know something he didn't. Because here was a woman he knew to be intelligent and wise. There was obviously a whole bunch of stuff Garrison didn't understand in the world. Like how a man could do something as terrible as what Charming Chandler had done to Sam.

  "I walked for a while," Sam said. "Maybe thirty minutes. Maybe an hour or more. I have no idea. But then I smelled smoke from a fireplace. And as I walked, I felt better. Cold again, and shivering, but that was good. I'm not sure I knew it at the time, or maybe I did. But anyway, it was good that I felt cold. It meant my body temperature was going back up. And then I saw a light."

  Garrison's hands ached from clenching them, as if he were there, watching the scene unfold. As if her life were in danger at that very moment.

  "It was a house, and I knocked on the door, and they took me to the emergency room and called my parents."

  "Thank God."

  "Exactly. He saved me. I just...I don't know why."

  He grabbed her hand. "How can you say that?"

  "I thought God wanted to save my baby. I was so sure of it. And then, a few days later, I miscarried."

  "Oh, honey, I'm sorry."

  "It was probably the hypothermia. No doctor has confirmed that, but that's my theory. So Chandler did manage to kill our child. Almost killed me."

  "I hope you had his butt thrown in jail."

  She didn't say anything.

  "You did, right?"

  "I quit school. Went home. My dad and my brother got all my things when I knew Chandler would be at class. I never saw him again. For all he knows, he has a child. Not that he ever cared enough to check."

  Chandler. Garrison needed the guy's last name.

  "I was wrong about everything."

  "You trusted the wrong guy, Sam. All that says about you is that you're trustworthy, kind, gentle. Maybe a little naive, but this was a guy you'd been with for years. His cruelty was his fault."

  "I know."

  Her words were flat again.

  "You don't really know, though, do you?"

  "When I first moved back to Nutfield, I stayed in town to recuperate. Then, I don't know. I finished college online. I got a job with the town, moved into an apartment, and sort of avoided leaving. I didn't admit I was doing it at the time. I told myself I preferred the local market to the big grocery stores. I bought my clothes online or at the shops downtown. I'd always dreamed of owning my own business, so I bought the first little cabin on the lake. That's when I went to the mall. I was looking for curtains and stuff to decorate the new cabin. I could feel the anxiety rising even as I drove myself to Manchester, but I forced myself to go. And then I had the anxiety attack. And then, for a while, it was easier to stay home than fight it."

  "But last night..."

  "It was the darkness, and I was feeling...I don't know." Her gaze met his, flicked way. But he knew. He'd made her feel like a failure with his cruel remark, feel insignificant when he'd run off without her.

  "I'm sorry."

  "It wasn't you, Garrison. You acted like a father. I just...sometimes I don't think straight. And the woods. They still call to me like they did that night. It's crazy. I know it's crazy."

  "It's different. But you're not crazy, Samantha. You're struggling. You're trying to work through it."

  Silence filled the space. He waited for her to continue. When she didn't speak, he asked, "It's better than it was, right?"

  "A few years ago, I found a good counselor and started seeing a shrink, who prescribes the medications."

  He slid off his chair and knelt in front of her. "You've built this amazing life for yourself, Sam. And you're overcoming your fears."

  A sob seemed to bubble up in her heart.

  He wrapped her in his arms. "I think you're brave."

  "I'm not. I'm afraid of everything."

  "Bravery isn't not being afraid, Samantha." He leaned back so he could see her face. "Bravery is facing your fears. That's what you've been doing all these years, what you did with me when you went with us yesterday.
And again last night, out in the woods. And I left you by yourself after all you'd done for me."

  "It's fine. You were worried about your son."

  "I was, but it's not fine. That anxiety attack last night was my fault. I'm sorry."

  She rested against his chest again. He wanted to keep her there forever.

  Chapter 37

  Sam's day had certainly taken a turn.

  After she'd finished her story, Garrison had held her for a long time. Then he'd met her eyes and spoken words she'd never forget.

  "You are a treasure, Samantha, and Charming Chandler, aside from being a jackass and possibly a felon, is a total moron."

  She'd giggled, her relief bubbling up from a long-locked box deep in her soul. She'd told him everything, even the crazy God-talked-to-me stuff, and he was still with her.

  She'd tried to send him off to the lake alone to spend the day with his son, but he was having none of it. She certainly wouldn't complain if he wanted her by his side. She'd slipped on her bathing suit—a royal blue one-piece—and surveyed her reflection. She let the first word that came to her mind—fat—fall away. Not fat. Curvy. And—she smiled at her reflection—maybe even attractive. Well, now she was just being silly. She pulled her white cover-up over her head and returned to the living room.

  Garrison's whistle had her cheeks burning. She waved him off. "You're crazy."

  "You're hot."

  She ducked away so he wouldn't see her smile and found her beach bag. They were just about to leave when she got a call from her management company. Apparently, one of her cabins had lost power. The company couldn't send anybody until that evening and hoped she could stop by sooner than that.

  She disconnected the call and slid her phone in the bag. "I'm going to take my own car. I have an errand to run."

  Garrison agreed, and she followed him to the lake. She drove past his rental to the one with the faulty wiring not too far away. She knocked, waited, then let herself in. The place was empty of tourists. She wasn't sorry. No need to waste a minute being friendly to strangers, not when the lake and waterskiing and Garrison beckoned. She found the circuit breaker panel, flipped the switch, watched the lights flick on, and headed back to Garrison's cabin.

  She knocked on the screen door. "Mind if I come in?"

  "Come on."

  She stepped inside to find Garrison in swim trunks and a T-shirt, standing in the middle of the living room. His eyes were closed.

  "What's wrong?"

  He turned, shook his head, then went into the kitchen. "Something's not right."

  She followed. "What is it?"

  He shook his head, sniffed. "Did you have anybody coming over today? A contractor or...?"

  "No." She followed his gaze, tried to see what he was seeing.

  "Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Does it smell like cologne to you?"

  She sniffed. "I guess, a little."

  "Not Aiden's."

  "Could be Nate's." But the scent wasn't familiar to her, and Nate wasn't the kind of guy to load up on cologne.

  "Before the lake, though. Why would Nate...?" His voice trailed off.

  Garrison didn't seem the paranoid type, but all this fuss over a faint smell was a bit over the top.

  He shook his head and dialed Nate's number. "It's Garrison. We're at the cabin. What do you guys want?"

  Garrison waited while Nate responded.

  "Pepsi and sandwiches," he said. "And you have a cooler, right?" Another pause, then, "Okay, we'll be at the boat ramp in a few minutes." He disconnected the call.

  She grabbed the bread and started on the sandwiches. "You think we have enough food to fill Aiden?"

  "I'm just glad he's hungry. I didn't know, after last night..."

  Right. She'd been so focused on herself, she'd forgotten about Garrison's bigger issue. "I'm sorry I dumped all that—"

  "Don't even start, Sam. I practically forced it out of you." He took her hand. "I wanted to know. I'm glad I know."

  "But Aiden."

  "I can handle it. I've almost perfected the walking and chewing gum thing, too."

  "That I have to see."

  "It's quite a sight." Garrison slid a few cans of soda into a paper sack. "Aiden was going to grab food when he came over earlier, but I guess he forgot."

  Sam arranged the sandwiches on top of the sodas, then added a bag of chips. "Do we need to get water?"

  "Nate's got that covered." He grabbed the bag. "Ready?"

  She stepped outside before him, then waited while he took one last look around before he locked the door behind him.

  "Are you always this paranoid?"

  He shook his head, no smile. "It's been a weird week."

  She couldn't argue with that.

  She started to open her car door, but he cleared his throat behind her and said in his deep cop-voice, "Step out of the way, ma'am."

  She let him open her door for her. "I'm not used to such chivalry."

  His set the paper bag on the ground. "What about the idiot from college?"

  "Uh, no. Not his style."

  "Seems like Chandler wasn't charming after all."

  "Very true."

  Garrison's eyes narrowed. "Has there been anyone since Charming Chandler?"

  "Nope."

  He kissed her temple and waited while she sat in the passenger seat. "Sort of selfish of me, but I'm glad."

  He stowed the bag in the backseat and sat beside her. "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Sure."

  "What was it about last night that brought on your anxiety attack? Do you know? I'd like to know your triggers so I can avoid them. Not lead you into them like—"

  "That wasn't your fault." She squeezed his hand. "It was just being outside in the dark, by myself. And the woods."

  "I'll be more careful, but you need to tell me if I'm asking too much. I'm sure the rest of your friends are sensitive about those things."

  She glanced across the car where he waited for a response and decided to go with the truth. "My friends don't know."

  "What? How can that be?"

  She shrugged. "Brady was off at college when it all happened, and we'd lost touch. Rae was...well, we'd had a falling out. It's a long story."

  "And Nate?"

  "I didn't know Nate then. And of course none of us had met Marisa. Most of my other friends from high school had gone on to college, and, anyway, I wasn't really close with anyone but Brady and Rae."

  "But how could you not have told them since?"

  "It's not the kind of thing that comes up in normal conversation. Rae asked me to go dress shopping with her when she and Brady married. I was going to do it—to try, anyway. But she didn't want to wear a bridal gown, and she ended up finding something in a boutique downtown. It was a small wedding, family and a few friends. They had the reception at the Lion's Club in town."

  "That sounds fancy."

  Sam thought back to the intimate reception, the way Rae's young friend Caro and her classmates had decked out the old building. And she remembered how Brady and Rae had looked at each other on that dance floor, how guilty she'd felt for almost destroying their lives.

  No, she wouldn't go there again. Brady and Rae had forgiven her. She had to let it go.

  "Rae's first husband"—not that he was really her husband, but that was too long a story for today—"was very wealthy. Her first wedding was on a yacht in the Mediterranean. I think she wanted this wedding to be nothing like that one."

  "Sounds like there's a story there," Garrison said.

  "There is, a long one. But it's not my story to tell. And if you ask, they probably won't tell it. It's all very hush-hush.”

  "Now I really want to know."

  Sam thought back to the events that had brought Rae home—and nearly gotten her killed. Then she considered what Nate and Marisa had been through just a few months before—the kidnapping, the murder. And here she was, over thirty and still scared of the dark

  Good thing she didn't
have any danger in her life. She'd probably die of fright.

  Chapter 38

  Matty stared at the launch ramp where Aiden and the other guy had backed a boat into the water and sped off. There weren't a lot of vehicles in this lot, and Frank had found a spot in the back corner where they could watch cars coming and going. Not that there was much of that going on today.

  "What if Mr. Kopp doesn't show up?" Matty asked.

  "If he does, we'll have all the time in the world to get into the car, get the package, and get away."

  "But what if he doesn't?"

  Frank blew out a long breath. "Then we'll deal with it. There's no guarantees in life, kid." He opened his car door. "I gotta take a leak."

  Matty twisted to watch as his father headed not toward the restrooms in the little hut attached to the dock but to the woods behind them. He'd almost disappeared behind a tree when Matty saw him pull out his phone.

  Who was Frank calling? He'd told Matty his plan was to recover the package and take it to Long Island to deliver it to the buyers. Maybe he was just updating them. But if that were the case, then why lie about it?

  Frank was planning something.

  Did he have any idea Matty was planning something, too? And how would Matty get his hands on the diamonds? Maybe he should call Robert, get the guy here to fight for the diamonds himself. Because Matty had no idea how he was going to get the package from his father and get away. He was so far out of his league, like a little leaguer pitching for the Mets.

  But he couldn't call Robert, not yet. What if Robert hurt Frank? The guy might be a jerk, but he was still Matty's dad. His other option was no better, though. Try to get the diamonds away from Dad, and then what? Take a bus back to New York?

  No, then he'd call Robert. When he had the package, he'd run, hide somewhere, and call Robert. He'd make sure he put a lot of distance between himself and Frank, try to protect his old man.

  How could he protect them all? And himself?

  Crap, how did he get himself into this mess? More importantly, how could he get himself out?

  Mr. Kopp... Aiden's father would help him. He'd know what to do. Maybe Matty should confess the whole thing. Mr. Kopp wouldn't want Frank to get hurt, and he'd protect Matty and his family, too. Matty should have fessed up from the very beginning. Was it too late now?