Broken Lies

by Rachel Branton

  The grief subsided. She was okay. She could do this.

  “What?” Halla asked her. “You’re smiling.”

  “Just a message from Vaughn. He thinks I should bring a silver sword in case my mother’s really a vampire.”

  Halla grinned. “That’s funny.”

  “Who’s Vaughn?” Kendall asked, dipping another fry in too much sauce. “And isn’t it werewolves who are hurt by silver bullets? Maybe we need a gun.”

  “It was vampires first,” Halla said. “Werewolves were only hurt by silver beginning in the early nineteenth century.”

  “And you know that why?” Saffron held up her hand. “Never mind. Not sure I want to know.”

  “Just research for a guest blog I did,” Halla told her anyway.

  Kendall finished her last fry and balled up the sack. “So is anyone going to tell me about this Vaughn?”

  “He’s a friend,” Saffron said.

  “A gorgeous, sexy friend, who Saffron was kissing all over the place for three months,” Halla corrected. “But he broke up with her last Friday.”

  “He was a good kisser,” Saffron admitted, warmth flushing her. “But it was just kissing.”

  “So why’d he break up with you?” Kendall half turned in her seat, looking at Saffron behind her.

  “Because—” Saffron began.

  “To prevent her from crushing his heart,” Halla interrupted.

  Saffron rolled her eyes. “We’d only been dating for three months.”

  “I fell in love with Joel after only one,” Kendall said.

  With Tyson it might have been less than a week, so maybe Kendall was right that time didn’t matter. “Look, are you finished? Are we going to do this?”

  Kendall turned around and gave a big sigh. “Okay, I’m ready. Or as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Halla glanced at Saffron. “You want to drive?”

  “Not really.”

  “Good. Because Vaughn’s car is sweet.” Halla started the engine.

  “This is Vaughn’s car?” Kendall asked. “That doesn’t sound like a man who thinks he’s broken up.”

  “That’s what I think,” Halla said.

  Ignoring them, Saffron went back to the list on her phone and began making brief notes under each of the subjects she wanted to discuss with her mother. Seconds later, she abandoned that to read another text from Vaughn.

  When you get a chance, just let me know that you’re okay.

  Vaughn checked his phone for what must be the millionth time in the past hour, but there were no new messages. Did that mean Saffron was still with her mother? And what had happened with her family to make her end up at Lily’s House? He sensed that he was on the edge of understanding more than he ever had about Saffron, but he had to stifle the frustration of not seeing the whole picture.

  Of course, he had broken up with her, and none of it was his business anymore. Too bad he didn’t feel broken up. He guessed what he’d really done was given her an ultimatum, and he hated it when his friends told him about their girlfriends giving them ultimatums. Ultimatums were a fast track to breaking up, in his opinion, even when the relationship was going well. Except, he’d already felt Saffron moving away from him. If leaving him was what made her happy, that was something he could endure, but she wasn’t happy, not deep down, and that ate at him.

  Because he loved her.

  Loved her. There it was. The truth. When he held her in his arms, there was nothing better. Being with her made him happy, and she seemed happy too. It was only when the future came up, or talk of family, that she withdrew.

  Maybe confronting her mother was what she needed to move on. Or maybe he’d read everything between them wrong. That was the worst—thinking that maybe he wasn’t right for her and that she just needed the right man before she’d want to commit. A man who wasn’t him. This other love, the man she’d loved since kindergarten. Maybe he could make her happy.

  He took a breath, fighting the hurt threatening his heart. No, it wasn’t over until it was over. He’d be there for her and let their relationship follow naturally. He wouldn’t become another part of her life that she regretted.

  10

  Kendall led the way up to the front door of their mother’s house and tried the knob, but it was locked.

  “You don’t have keys?” Saffron asked past the banging of her heart.

  Kendall shook her head. “I always go in the garage door. We leave that open. Should we go in that way?”

  “No,” Saffron decided. “We don’t want to surprise her like that. She’ll only be more defensive. It’s best to ring the doorbell.” But neither she nor Kendall moved to do that.

  “Oh, brother,” Halla said, lifting her hand. “I’ll do it.”

  “Well, that’s why I brought you,” Saffron said as the bell chimed throughout the entire house.

  Halla smirked. “It’s nice to be needed.”

  For long moments nothing happened. Saffron studied the fancy wood door, the top half featuring an iron grate covering a stained glass window—a window that didn’t let her see inside the darker interior. It seemed like the same door they’d always had, but it had been so many years that she couldn’t be sure.

  Without warning, not even a footstep, the door opened, and for the first time in eight and a half years, Saffron stared into her mother’s face.

  Veronica Brenwood had aged more than Saffron expected, though what she’d expected she couldn’t say. Her mother had been twenty-eight when Saffron was born, so she had to be around fifty-three or so now. Her brow was furrowed, and her face was thinner, with tight lines gathered around her eyes. Her chestnut hair was swept up at the back of her head, the stray pieces softening her face. She was still a beautiful woman, who reminded Saffron of a grandmother she could barely recall. Confident and sure. A fighter with brilliant blue eyes that Saffron recognized as her own.

  Those eyes landed on Kendall, who had moved to the side of the step, as if hoping to be overlooked. “Kendall, why are you ringing the doorbell? Who are your . . .?” Veronica’s eyes pinned on Saffron, her mouth opening in a silent gasp.

  “Hi, Mom,” Saffron said. “Can we come in?”

  Her mother flushed and emotions seemed to battle on her face. Saffron could swear one of those was pleasure but another was most certainly fear. Saffron had dressed carefully this morning in a trendy plaid skirt and a blue blouse, but now, under her mother’s scrutiny, she felt rumpled after their barefooted walk along the coast.

  After a tiny step in their direction, her mother seemed to take control of herself, and her emotions were tucked neatly away where Saffron couldn’t even guess at them. “Please do come in.” Her mother backed into the entryway, opening the door.

  Stepping into the entryway was like stepping back in time. There were differences—a new painting, a vase of flowers on the mahogany wall table underneath the mirror—but the feel was exactly the same. Veronica led them into a sitting room to the left. The good room, Saffron had always called it, normally reserved for visits from the local pastor, the president of her mother’s women’s club, or neighbors who dropped in briefly to chat. And apparently the room for returning wayward daughters.

  Not the family sitting room, but the room for strangers. That’s what we are now, Saffron thought. Next, she’ll be offering tea and cookies.

  The room had been off limits to Saffron as a child, but she knew it anyway. She’d always loved the feel of the Georgian furniture, which had been re-covered at some point since she’d left. The more modern material didn’t seem to fit the carved wooden legs of the sofa or chairs.

  “Please sit.” Her mother indicated the sofa, waiting until they were seated before taking a chair opposite them. Only Kendall didn’t sit, wandering instead to the curtained window.

  “It’s nice to see you, Rosalyn,” said her mother.

  Necessary was more the word Saffron would use. “I go by Saffron now,” she said.

  “I see.” Her mother’s
back grew rigid.

  Of course. Saffron had been here two minutes and already she was making waves, but she felt it important to assert who she was now.

  “And how have you been?” her mother asked, showing the first hesitation.

  Saffron forced a smile. “Lately, I’ve been great.”

  “That’s nice.” Her mother gave her the fake smile she usually reserved for slow cashiers at the grocery store. Obviously, her mother knew Saffron hadn’t stopped by to see how she was doing and was waiting to learn the real reason she’d come.

  Saffron glanced at Halla who made a tiny “continue-on” motion with her hand, but her mother beat her to it. “I see you and Kendall have become reacquainted.” Their mother lifted her eyes to where Kendall stood before piercing Saffron again.

  “On Facebook first,” Kendall said, the words coming in a loud rush. “I tried to find her before, but I didn’t realize she’d changed her name. So she found me.”

  Their mother didn’t respond but continued looking at Saffron. “We thought you might come home for your dad’s funeral.”

  Saffron stared at her. “I didn’t hear about him until yesterday.”

  “I suppose you would have come if you had heard.” The phrase wasn’t a question but a definite challenge that Saffron couldn’t deny.

  “No, I wouldn’t have.” She’d been in no condition after losing her baby to do anything but take sleeping pills.

  Her mother’s lips pursed. “I see.”

  Again that insipid phrase that made Saffron want to shout at her that she didn’t see anything. Saffron was having a hard time remembering why it had seemed so important to face this woman. Her mother wasn’t happy to see her, and she certainly wasn’t repentant. Maybe there was nothing Saffron needed to say to her after all. This woman, this place, wasn’t a part of her life now and didn’t deserve to be. What had Saffron hoped—that she’d appear and her mother would hug her and welcome her back, apologizing for the heartache she’d caused?

  She was tempted to get up and walk out, but there was still Kendall. Besides, she’d dreamed of this day for years, and she wanted to walk away with no regrets. Except for some reason, she couldn’t remember any of the points she’d wanted to make. Drawing out her phone, she turned it on, keeping it close to her leg. Just a glance should get this meeting back on track.

  “Really, Rosalyn?” The coldness in her mother’s voice froze something inside her. “Almost nine years since you ran away, and I can’t compete with a text?”

  “Since I ran away?” Saffron shook her head. “Don’t you mean since you threw me out?”

  “Is that how you see it?” She gave a derogatory snort. “I wanted what was best for you, and having a child then wasn’t good for you—or that boy.”

  “Oh, you mean the boy who became a doctor?”

  The widening of her mother’s eyes betrayed her surprise, but her lips twisted as she said, “Not then he wasn’t. And he wouldn’t be one now if he’d become a father as a teen.”

  “Well, he did become a father anyway. And it wasn’t your choice.”

  “Then where is this child?” Her mother’s arm swept the width of the room. “I don’t see him here.”

  Anger built inside Saffron, fueled by years of hurt—and of that horrible moment in time that was forever frozen in her memory. The instant her precious son’s soft little breaths had forever stopped. Words came rushing to her mouth, hateful words that would crush her mother and push her from her life forever. Saffron felt a fierce, mad kind of glee that it would soon be over. She jumped to her feet, fists clenched, and her mother rose almost as quickly.

  Kendall stepped between them. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted. “I’m pregnant, and I’m having this baby, and I’m marrying Joel.”

  Several seconds of stunned silence filled the room as their mother took in the information. Kendall retreated, and their mother stepped toward Saffron, raising a finger to point at her. “This is your fault! You did this. You weren’t happy leaving us alone!”

  “No, Mother. Kendall’s pregnancy has nothing to do with me. She only found out about my baby yesterday, but I am here to make sure she doesn’t have to go through what I did.”

  That caught her attention. “So you didn’t come to see me, but to take her side.”

  Saffron wanted to scream her frustration. “I was already here when she told me. But Kendall is an adult, her own person, and whatever she decides, I’ll support her.”

  “Have you met that kid she wants to marry?” their mother retorted. “You don’t know because you haven’t been around. He will never amount to anything. He comes here with his greedy eyes, counting up all the stuff he’ll be able to pawn when I’m not looking. He’s not going to support Kendall—she’ll end up supporting him. She has to stay in school. I have to protect her from him.”

  Saffron wasn’t about to agree with her mother, regardless of how much she didn’t care for Joel. “Kendall knows she made a mistake, but she loves him and wants to make it work. You can give her all the advice in the world, but in the end, it’s got to be her decision.”

  “Not while she lives in my house.”

  Kendall was crying. “Please, Mom. Just let us live here for a while. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Go upstairs now.” Their mother pointed to the hallway. “We’ll discuss this later.”

  With a cry and a desperate glance at Saffron, Kendall flew across the room and disappeared into the hallway.

  Saffron was tempted to tell Kendall to stop and order her out to her car, but she didn’t want to be like her mother, forcing her will on her sister. Instead, she turned on her mother. “You haven’t changed at all.”

  Her mother’s gaze was mocking. “That man will ruin her life.”

  “You mean the way you ruined mine?”

  An expression of sorrow ran over her mother’s face, but in the next second her shoulders straightened and she seemed to grow two sizes. “Didn’t you just say you’ve been doing well? I tried to help you. I tried to make you see that your mistake would change your life, make it harder for you to reach your dreams. If your life is ruined, you have no one to blame but yourself.” Her cold voice pierced Saffron like a knife.

  “I was sixteen. A child! I needed you.”

  “You never listened to me.”

  “Because I didn’t want to kill my baby? Because I wanted to spend time with the boy I loved? It wasn’t your decision.” Saffron felt choked, smothered by being in the same room with this woman. At least now she knew why her mother had been able to abandon her: being right was more important to Veronica Brenwood than love.

  Saffron raised her hands, cutting off what her mother was preparing to say. “That’s enough. No more. We’re finished here. Goodbye, Mother.” She left the room, reaching the hallway and heading not toward the door but deeper into the house.

  Her mother flew after her. “Where are you going?”

  “To be with my sister.”

  “You stay out of this!”

  Saffron turned and looked at her. “No, I won’t. She needs me, and I’m not going to abandon her.”

  “You lost the right to call her sister when you left.” The venom in her mother’s voice shocked Saffron.

  The words hurt, but Saffron knew they weren’t true. “You’re wrong. She will always be my sister.”

  “You will leave now. I mean it. I’ll call the police.”

  “I don’t think so. Unless you want the neighbors to see them dragging me out, crying.”

  Without waiting for her reaction, Saffron headed through the house that was both familiar and foreign to her. She passed her parents’ bedroom, and her thoughts went to her father. He was gone. No chance to ask him how he’d felt about her leaving. She poked around her thoughts, testing to see what that made her feel, but mostly it was nothing. Her father had worked too much to be a part of her life.

  She continued down the hallway to the other rooms, listening. The sound of crying came not f
rom the room Kendall had used when Saffron had lived here, but from Saffron’s old bedroom. A sense of inevitability struck her: the same room, the same problem, the same mother. How ironic that both daughters would face a similar situation. Saffron felt a momentary satisfaction, as if she finally had proof that she wasn’t imagining the problems with her mother.

  Yet it wasn’t really the same. Kendall was an adult, and she wasn’t alone.

  Saffron turned into a room that had changed drastically. Posters of singing groups filled the walls, and only a few did she recognize. The furniture was different, from the bed to the dresser that was largely unnecessary with the walk-in closet. What had happened to Saffron’s belongings? Had they been given to a charity? She didn’t care too much about her childhood possessions, though she’d thought about her collection of old beads more than once over the years. Even back then she’d been fascinated with making jewelry.

  Kendall sprawled stomach-down on the big bed, hugging one of four large pillows. She stiffened when Saffron entered the room, but that dissolved with a glance. “Oh, it’s you.” She sat up, folding her legs under her.

  “It’s going to be okay.” Saffron sat on the bed, close enough to offer support, but far enough away that Kendall shouldn’t feel crowded. “I’m here for you. You won’t have to go through this alone.”

  “She didn’t scare you off?” Kendall rubbed the tears from her cheeks and attempted a watery smile. “But she’ll insist that I abort the baby, and there’s no way I’m going to do that. I know it’s early, but I think I can feel her moving. Like butterfly kisses inside. No way am I doing that. I want to see her. To give her real butterfly kisses.”

  “Well, Mom can’t make you do anything. And look . . .” Saffron hesitated, wondering if, after all, maybe she didn’t have the right to say what she needed to say. But because she didn’t get good vibes from Joel and the supposed great love of her own life hadn’t worked out, she owed it to Kendall to speak her mind. “After what happened to me, I’d be the last one to tell you to give up the baby, but Mom’s choice isn’t the only one, and neither is marrying Joel. You should only marry him if you want to.”