Quiet Lies

by R. L. Griffin

  “Rebecca, it’s Sissy. I got several new business partners today. I need to get you the information.”

  “Oh Sissy, that’s wonderful. I think we’ll be around after the spring break.”

  “I was hoping I could drop it by now, I’m in your neighborhood.”

  Ugh, I cringe. I don’t like people in my house. Sebastian and I used to have dinner parties with his work friends, but I refused to continue those years ago. Even I have doubts about my acting ability. Pretending to be happy is harder than it appears, Sebastian and I are never together and when we are I have to be medicated to hide my true feelings.

  “Mom, is that Kendall’s mom?” Bash calls from the table.

  My eyes narrow at him, telling him to be quiet.

  “For real,” he huffs.

  “Okay Sissy, we’re here. I’m just cooking dinner.”

  “Oh great, Kendall and I will swing by in three.” She disconnects.

  “Fuck,” I whisper. I turn to check the eggplant and when I spin around to the mixture, Bash is gone. “Bash?”

  Nothing.

  My music pipes back in through the speakers and Hozier calms my nerves. When he talks about corpses it doesn’t bother me because it sounds so lovely. I don’t like to pretend here. This house is like my safe space where I can be myself, even if I’m not entirely sure who that is anymore.

  The chime sounds throughout the house to let us know someone is coming up our driveway. Our house is right outside Portland, we bought two lots that sit on the border of a huge national preserve so we have a massive amount of land and it almost feels rural. The house sits back about a half acre and a handful of trees block our view of the road.

  Bash bounds down the stairs and rushes to sit at the table so that he could look nonchalant when Kendall enters the house. I chuckle as I walk to our oversized Dutch front door, the top cracked open to let in fresh air even though it’s under thirty degrees, my best fake smile plastered on my face.

  “Sissy, Kendall. So nice to see you.” My voice is a fake tone I use for PTA folks. I open the bottom half of the door and they both walk in, their eyes bouncing all around the house. They start taking off their outerwear as if they plan on staying and I narrow my eyes.

  “Wow, Rebecca your house is amazing,” Sissy says taking in the rustic entryway.

  “Thank you,” I say wiping my hands on my apron that I purchased from Anthropology. It’s metallic with a plunging neckline and a green bow at the waist. I don’t know why I bought it, but I wear it more than anything, except maybe yoga pants.

  “I mean, like in a magazine gorgeous,” she continues.

  I blush. I worked hard to make the house look perfect. I thought it would make Sebastian proud of me. It didn’t.

  “Bash is in there,” I tell Kendall and point around the corner. “Come on Sissy, we can go to my office, that’s where I have everything.”

  “What is this color? It’s magical.” Sissy asks as we walk into my office that is immediately to the right off the foyer.

  “Indigo Batik,” I answer and sit behind my desk, which is a slab of wood I found at a local lumber company.

  She lowers into my antique barrel chairs that balance out the look of rustic, but chic. I was able to be a little more creative in here, because Sebastian doesn’t enter it.

  “I mean, I’m in awe.” Her hair is the identical color of mine, I know she goes to the same salon I do, but it’s cut in a chic bob.

  “I really appreciate it. It’s nice when someone likes what I’ve done here. It was a labor of love, that’s for sure.” I’m looking at my computer as I pull up the files I need for this discussion.

  She pulls a file folder out of her large bag and puts it on the desk. “I got a local food truck to go in and the stationery store by the school.”

  “I can’t believe people still buy stationery.”

  “Oh, I always do all my thank you cards on their custom stationery. You should try it, very classy.”

  I don’t have the need for thank you cards. “Okay, Sissy. These look great. I’ll add these to the list I’ve been compiling.” There was no need for her to come here with this information today, but I add them to the spreadsheet.

  “How are we doing so far?” Her eyes go to the wall and I hold my breath. She rises out of her chair and walks over to it. “Where are you from originally?”

  “South Carolina,” I answer.

  “Your husband too?”

  “No, his family is from Virginia, we met at Clemson.”

  “You both looked so gorgeous on your wedding day.”

  “The day that changed my life,” I say honestly with a chuckle.

  “Your necklace...” She leans forward so that her nose is inches from the eight by ten photo I have of Sebastian and me on our wedding day.

  “I used to make jewelry.”

  “Really?” She looks back at me, her eyebrows raised in shock. “I have to tell you I hate you, I think.”

  She laughs at the look on my face in reaction to her comment.

  “I’m kidding, sort of.” She turns to face me as I start moving toward the door. “You and your husband are stupid attractive, which has been passed down to your kid. Your house is...I don’t even know. I would kill to live here. And you’re talented too. I had no idea you could make things like this. Why don’t you make these anymore?”

  “Oh, I’m plenty busy taking care of my family. I don’t really have time to.”

  “But your jewelry was featured in tons of magazines,” she refuses to agree with my statement and points to the framed articles with my jewelry.

  “I love making jewelry,” I concede. I stand from the chair and start walking toward the foyer.

  “I cannot even believe your life.” She’s rambling and following me out of the office, through the foyer and into the open living area where the kids are sitting at the table and making goo-goo eyes at each other and then staring at their phones.

  Sissy and I exchange looks.

  “Ok Kendall, let’s go,” she commands.

  “Can we stay for dinner?” she asks.

  I examine my feet. How rude? You can’t just show up at someone’s house and then invite yourself for dinner.

  Sissy is silent. I’m waiting on her to chastise her daughter for her poor manners.

  “Yeah, Mom, can they stay?”

  Fuck. “Well…” I stutter slightly. “I’m not sure I have enough food. I wasn’t expecting company,” I say politely.

  “We can share a plate, I’m on a diet anyway,” Kendall offers. She’s thirteen. Why would she be on a diet at thirteen?

  “I’m making eggplant rollatini, it’s not really diet food.” I move to the kitchen to take a look at the eggplant and pull the baking sheet out of the oven and set it on the counter.

  “Again with the hate,” Sissy giggles. “You can eat this and look like that.” She’s pointing at me. I look at her and then at her daughter. Sissy walks over to the bar at the island in the kitchen and sits down.

  Where are these people from? Don’t they teach you here that you must be invited for dinner? My examination of Kendall shows a girl that is already aware of the false premise that in order to keep her mother’s love and to obtain a boy, she must be a certain size. I sigh with discontent.

  “It smells heavenly.” Sissy’s comment interrupts my thought.

  My phone buzzes with a text.

  I’ll be late.

  “Well, it looks like your dad isn’t going to make dinner, so you guys can have his share.” I clear my throat and wash my hands.

  “So Rebecca, how did you guys end up in Portland?” And it begins...

  “Sebastian got a job offer we couldn’t refuse.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “About thirteen years,” I answer, but I’m starting to feel like this is some sort of recon mission developed by the PTA bitches.

  “And how do you like it?”

  “It’s different. I miss the
lowcountry, but I haven’t been in a very long time. This is home now.”

  “Do your parents get out to see you?”

  “Would you like a drink? I have some white wine that’s chilled? A martini?” I offer.

  “Oh, wine would be great.” She begins texting on her phone and I can’t help but wonder if it is about me.

  I pull out a bottle of Abeja and uncork it. Setting two white wine glasses on the counter I pour two glasses. “Here you go.” I hand her a glass.

  “What is this music?” she asks and I take a second to listen.

  “Oh, this is a singer song-writer I discovered a few years ago.”

  “I like it,” she comments, clearly lying, and then takes a sip of her wine. I’m glad she doesn’t like it because if she did I’d delete every song of his from my playlist and I simply cannot live without him telling me about my silent screaming.

  I nod toward our kids laughing at something online.

  “You know, it’s so weird that our kids are going to be raised in a society where everything is done via Instagram or text. There’s no need for social skills,” I opine.

  “I know right,” she agrees while she texts someone again. “This wine is amazing.”

  “Isn’t it? Sebastian had a company retreat and they did a tasting at the winery. He brought back a case of cab and a case of chardonnay.”

  “Does he travel a bunch?” She finally looks up from her phone.

  I nod and start rolling the eggplant with the cheese mixture in it.

  “I cannot get over how perfect you guys have it.” I glare at her blond head as she looks back down to text more on her phone.

  Sometimes I’m so good at fooling everyone I actually trick myself.

  I’m giddy with excitement I tell myself because I think that’s what I’m supposed to be right now. Sebastian is coming home to meet my mother, he holds my hand as we drive on route seventeen heading toward Charleston. I’ve warned him my mother is…difficult. When I say difficult, I really mean we barely speak and she’s always worried about her current boyfriend, now husband. She has so many I don’t keep up, I only remember their names if she marries them, which she tends to do. I feel a rough thumb rub my wrist as Sebastian maneuvers my Toyota Corolla into the right lane so that we can turn in the next few miles.

  “I thought maybe we’d get on the river tomorrow and float down with some beer and some of my old friends,” I inquire to see if he’d be interested in that.

  “What river?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the road. It’s dark out here at night. There’s something sacred about this area, I didn’t realize it until I moved away. I lived near Charleston growing up, but didn’t feel the difference of this little area of the world to the rest of South Carolina until I went to college. There are not many lights at night and when the sun disappears into the water to slumber, the stars come out to play. It was like they knew they’re necessity for us here, that we need more stars than anyone else in the world. That somehow in order to survive, we need them. I needed them. Memories of when I was in high school appear before my eyes. Seaver using a marker on my torso drawing constellations lasts the longest. He was obsessed with the stars. I used to think it was because he spent so much time on the boat at night. I’d let him draw them on me because I loved the way his eyes would grow focused, his concentration on my skin, his touch making my insides jump with anticipation. Then he would turn me inside out with his body. Sebastian clearing his throat brings me back to the here and now, my face reddens. I’m glad he can’t see it.

  “Where did you go?” he asks, concerned.

  “I just…” I look out the window at the dark forms passing us by as we move swiftly toward where my mom now lives. “I hate it here.” I’m not sure that’s actually true, my feelings are complicated and I never come back because I can’t. I’m hoping with Sebastian here I can fumble through being near everything that hurt me.

  We follow the directions my mother emailed me. As Sebastian takes a left onto a dirt driveway, we punch a code into the gate. “Well, I guess she hit the mother load this time,” I mutter. Taking in the plantation-looking house that appears before us I hope this is my mother’s last marriage. I doubt it will be, but it looks like she finally got what she’d been looking for all her life. I don’t have a home. You know some people live with their parents until they leave for college or they go out into the world as an adult. It’s the same house they grew up in as a child so when they go home they get to stay in their old room. I don’t have that. Never did really. We lived in six different places growing up. I guess it’s a good thing. I don’t want to remember high school or when I lived with my mother and father, I just want to move forward, to be where I am.

  Sebastian comes to a stop in front of a brand new colossal home, complete with hurricane shutters. My mom always wanted hurricane shutters and a wrap-around porch. The porch on this house spans both the first and second level of the house, both adorned with rocking chairs. The lights pop on from our motion and there is a, I count slowly, five car garage attached to the left side of the home. The house is painted khaki and has a blue tin roof, that’s my mother. She’d always wanted a tin roof. I smile a bit seeing that she’s finally gotten what she’s been searching for since my dad. The humongous door swings open and my mother in some sort of matching bright green and pink monstrosity of an ensemble claps her hands. Her blonde bob is tucked behind her ears so that you can see diamond earrings. Her Easter egg pink colored lips are spread wide in a smile.

  “Here we go,” I mutter as I squeeze Sebastian’s hand then get out of the car. We walk toward the steps and my mom rushes out to meet us. She stops in front of Sebastian.

  “You’re really here?” She looks between us both and then does a little girl squeal. “Sebastian.” She pulls him into a hug, he towers over her, but she fiercely holds on and looks at me. I smile. She pushes him away from her and then grabs my arms looking at me. Then she blinks, her face registers something I can’t quite make out, but then she’s back and wraps her arms around me. It takes me back to my high school graduation when I was so mean to her, hateful really. I just wanted to leave. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of dodge. “I’m so happy you came home.”

  I flinch a little at the term home because, again, this isn’t my home. Does it do something to a person to not have a stable home, to simply want a place to call their own for the long term? A person who will always be with you, no matter what?

  “I’m so sorry we decided to go to Vegas, but Leonard just couldn’t wait. We really wanted you to be there,” my mom starts.

  This is all a lie. She planned the wedding during finals and I couldn’t go, but wedding number five just didn’t rise to a level for me to even care that I missed it. I smile. She says this for Sebastian’s benefit, so that he wouldn’t think she was a horrible mother. Unfortunately for her, he already knows her.

  “Anyway, Leonard and I decided to buy this little beauty and thought that we should be married before we started our new life here.” She looks toward the door. A man stands in the door frame, he is a tiny thing. Sebastian grabs my hand, he knows I had a hard time with all this and leaned on him when it actually went down. “Leonard,” she calls and waves him to where we’re standing. “Come down here and meet my daughter.”

  How can you marry someone and not meet their kid? Because she doesn’t matter. That’s how. I try not to narrow my eyes at him.

  “Rebecca, it’s so good to finally meet you.” He reaches out a hand to shake mine. “Your mom has told me so much about you and my son was a freshman when you were a senior in high school. Ricky Gould?”

  All of the blood leaves my body, it puddles around my feet and soaks my canvas Toms. They are grey and white striped, but now they are crimson and wet and…

  “Oh, she didn’t know any freshman,” My mom hits Leonard’s arm playfully, but doesn’t look at me.

  “He remembers her,” Leonard says cheerfully.

  I want to
stab him or splash him with all the blood that’s now on my shoes.

  “Well, she’s definitely unforgettable,” Sebastian adds, making himself known as he’s been left out of the conversation. ,

  “Leonard, this is Sebastian.” I stand watching as they shake hands trying to get my wits about myself. Sebastian walks to the back of my car and grabs our bags from the trunk. “Where do these go?” He looks at me, but I shrug, I’ve never been here in my life.

  It seems to take a full minute that stretches out like a country mile before my mom realizes we have no idea where we are going. “Oh, here follow me.” She turns and hurries up the stairs into the front door.

  I take in everything as we walk through the foyer of the house. It’s got rustic wood floors like a farm house and built in bookcases line the den-like room off to the right of the front door. The dining room is a cobalt blue with a rustic chandelier made from hanging mason jars with lights in them. Exposed beams give the brand new house a feeling like you could look around and find a animal, but it’d be a clean animal who only eats organic food and doesn’t shit in the house.

  “This is gorgeous,” I comment as we head up the stairs.

  “Thank you, we’ve been working on the plans for a while now.”

  I knew they moved in about six months ago, I wonder how long they were together before they got married. I don’t ask though, I don’t care that much.

  My mother takes a right at the top of the stairs, she’s telling Sebastian something about the rooms and wood. I’m lost in my thoughts about how surreal it is going from the two bedroom shack type home we lived in with my dad, the numerous apartments, houses and trailers to this, not paying attention until Sebastian stops in front of me causing me to run into his back.

  “Shit. Sorry,” I say to his back. His chuckle is a low rumble.

  We stop in front of a small set of stairs that lead up to a loft type area. The walls are a majestic green color, like the foliage that surrounds a marsh. The accents are gold and the cherry wood in the room, it makes me feel like I am in a castle.

  “Wow,” Sebastian says.

  My eyes follow where he was walking and the back wall consists solely of windows that overlook the marsh. I turn to my mom, who is beaming with pride.