Broken Lies

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Broken Lies Page 15

by Rachel Branton


  He texted back. I’ll be by later to check on the guys and to stain the front ramp. In the meantime, can you tell dad to watch them? That will keep them going. I’m going to see Roz for a while.

  He’d typed Saffron first and had to delete the name, knowing she wouldn’t understand. Later he’d explain. He closed his eyes at the thought. The idea that he and Saffron could pick up where they left off was so huge that it seemed impossible. But that’s exactly what he wanted to do—more than anything. Or he would if it didn’t mean hurting Jana. Because without his parents’ interference, he and Saffron would have succeeded. They would have made their relationship work.

  His mother’s reply came as he shut the car door. I’d like to see her. I want to apologize.

  Right. He didn’t think that would be happening soon. He’d recognized the look in Saffron’s eyes yesterday when he’d mentioned his mother. Justified as her anger might be, how could they hope to go forward if Saffron never wanted anything to do with his parents? He couldn’t abandon them, regardless of his mother’s actions. He was all they had.

  I don’t know if she’ll come, he wrote. What happened to her after she left here was awful. I don’t know if she’s ready.

  And your son? she asked.

  He could read hope in the sentence, and part of him wanted to leave her hanging, but a larger part didn’t want to hurt her anymore. He also didn’t want to tell her what had happened in person. He came too early. The words hurt as he clicked each letter. He died. Because of me.

  Even the words hurt too much, and when his phone buzzed with a response from his mother, he shoved it in his pocket and didn’t look at the text. Instead, he hurried inside the inn to meet Saffron.

  She answered the door with only a few seconds delay, looking so good in a yellow sundress that he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her right then. But she stepped back and motioned to someone behind her. “Hey, I know you saw her before, but I want you to officially meet Halla. She’s one of my foster sisters.”

  Behind Saffron, the slender girl in pink camouflage pants and a pink top gave him a little wave. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Neither of them said anything about their first meeting, which was probably for the best. But Tyson felt Halla’s eyes like a weight on him, and he found himself wanting to prove his worth to her.

  Saffron turned back to him. “It’s almost six, and I know you have to work tonight at your parents’ house. So what’s the plan?”

  He shook his head. “Dinner maybe? I can take a couple hours.” Tyson glanced at Halla. “Why don’t you join us?”

  Halla shook her head. “No, you two go ahead. I have studying to do anyway.”

  “I’d like you to come,” he insisted. “I’d like to hear about you and all the others in Saffron’s family. Saffron said that you’re going back tomorrow, so who knows when we’ll have another chance.”

  Halla glanced at Saffron, who nodded at her to accept. “Okay, sure,” Halla said. “I’d love to get to know you too. I just didn’t want to get in the way. You two don’t have much time.”

  Panic surged through Tyson. “You’re not going back too, are you?” he asked Saffron.

  A smile played on her lips, telling him she guessed at his thoughts. “No. I’ll stay at least until the weekend.” She stepped forward, taking his hand.

  For a brief second, he leaned over and let his head rest against hers. Her skin was so soft, her scent intoxicating. Memories tumbled through him of days long past when they couldn’t stand to be apart. His hand tightened on hers. He might never let go.

  Dinner was good, really good. Tyson couldn’t remember laughing so much since he and Jana had visited her extended family in Washington. Saffron was smart and funny, and Halla played off her perfectly. He learned that Saffron lived alone like he had before coming to help his parents, that she supported herself with her designs, and she enjoyed hiking and river rafting. He’d never thought of her as the sporty type, but things had definitely changed. He enjoyed hiking too. Though finding time was difficult with his schedule, he and Jana had recently begun hiking twice a month.

  Jana. The thought of her brought a tightening to his chest. Where was she now? Probably at her place watching Netflix or out with friends. She might even be on a date after their talk today. The idea made him uncomfortable, but he had no right asking her to wait when he wanted to be with Saffron.

  “Hey, where’d you go?” Saffron asked, pulling his thoughts back to the table. “We’re discussing dessert. You having any?”

  “Do they have chocolate cake?” Since starting construction at his parents’ house, he was always hungry for dessert.

  Saffron grinned at him. “Still like it, huh?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Good, so do I.” Saffron signaled the server.

  “So,” Halla said to Tyson after they ordered. “You said you were remodeling your parents’ house.”

  “Yeah, my father is in a wheelchair permanently now, and he couldn’t do much in the house the way it was. My mother can’t lift him, and it’s getting harder for her to take care of him. So we lowered the counters and shelves, put a wheelchair-accessible shower in the bathtub so he can move himself to a shower chair, and on Saturday night, we put up a ramp to the front of the house so he can easily go outside alone.”

  “Sounds like you’re nearly finished,” Halla said.

  “Almost. The guys I hired are finishing a ramp out the back as well, but beyond that, I’m just staining and painting. I won’t need their help for that. I did want to put in a ramp from inside the garage to the house, but there’s just not enough room to do it safely and park their car. So the other two ramps will have to do.”

  “So are you helping the workers with the back ramp tonight?” Saffron asked.

  He shook his head. “They’ve got it covered. I’m going to stain the front ramp. I figure it’ll need a couple coats over several days. I do as much as possible on my own to keep within the budget my parents set. They don’t like it when I spend my money on their house.” In fact, he’d taken to paying the guys bonuses under the table after each large project was finished so he could report lower official wages for his father’s benefit.

  His phone next to his plate buzzed for the fourth time since they’d started dinner. “Aren’t you going to get that?” Halla asked. “What if it’s about a patient?”

  “It’s not.” He glanced at Saffron and her gaze compelled him to add, “It’s my mother. She wants me to bring you over.”

  Saffron’s eyes widened, and he could see her reluctance. He didn’t blame her, but would she ever be able to forgive his mother? Would he have been able to in her place?

  “You should go,” Halla said.

  “Halla, I don’t think . . .” Saffron trailed off.

  “She wants to apologize,” Tyson added.

  Saffron’s gaze fixed on him. “You want me to go, don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure. But if we’re . . . we’re going to have to face her sometime. I love my parents, and for the most part, they’re good people. I don’t condone how my mother acted back then, not at all, but for what it’s worth, I believe she was trying to look out for me.”

  “Well, it did work out for you.” Saffron’s voice was soft and hurt. “You have a great life. So she was right.”

  He shook his head. “It would have been better with you. With our son.”

  “Look, I’ll be honest with you,” Saffron said. “I don’t know if I can forgive her.”

  Under the table he put his leg against hers as a show of secret support. “Well, I suspect it’ll be a process, not something that will happen overnight. But it can wait. We absolutely don’t have to start now.”

  Halla shook her head. “No, go tonight. Saffron, think of how you feel about protecting your sister. What you did to protect your son. She’s a mom first. Give her a chance. I can only guess how hard it will be for you, but maybe this is one of those bandages that should be ripped off quic
kly before it hardens into something you can never take off.”

  Saffron straightened, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin slightly as she met Tyson’s gaze. “Okay. I’ll come and help you with the staining. I’ll have to go back to the inn and change first.”

  Tyson blinked twice. “It’s messy. You could just watch.”

  “I told you how we painted all of Lily’s House when we moved in, didn’t I? I know about paint and staining.”

  “Well . . .” he started.

  She smirked at him knowingly. “Oh, I get it. You’re afraid I’ll do it wrong. That’s why you won’t let the guys you hired do it.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, you got me. Stain’s tricky, but I’d love to have your expert help—if you are an expert.”

  “Oh, I am. You’ll see.”

  “Do you need me to come?” Halla asked Saffron. “Because you know I’ll be there for you, if you need me.”

  For moral support, she meant, because of his mother. Tyson didn’t miss the implication. “I’ll take care of her,” he said. “Don’t worry. And my mother really is sorry.”

  “We’ll drop you back at the inn so you can study,” Saffron told Halla. “I’ll be fine. His mom is nothing next to mine.”

  “With that, I have to agree,” Tyson said. “She always scared me.” He was relieved to see the waiter coming toward them with their desserts—slices of chocolate cake for him and Saffron, and a brownie with ice cream for Halla. Maybe they could talk about something besides his mother for a while.

  They chatted as they ate, but for Tyson the cake was dry and tasteless. He still loved Saffron—there was no doubt in his mind about that—but what if she could never forgive his mother or get over the pain she’d caused them? He was having difficulty with anger toward his mother himself, but he knew he’d be able to recover the relationship because they had so many other good times to build on. But the pain in Saffron’s eyes made him want to protect her, even at the expense of his relationship with his parents. She’d been through too much already.

  If it came down to it, would he give up his parents for her?

  At that moment, she turned in his direction and smiled, and he knew that he would.

  16

  Saffron could feel Tyson’s nervousness on the way to his parents’ house, and she wanted to make it better, but she was already wishing she hadn’t agreed to come. She and Tyson barely had an idea where their relationship was heading, and his parents hadn’t been any help the last time.

  “Are you staying at the hotel again tonight?” she asked. “Or at your parents’?”

  “Neither, I think. I’d rather head back to Oceanside. I have an early appointment tomorrow, and I don’t want to risk traffic. I’ll make better time tonight.”

  The knowledge made Saffron relax. At least there would be no awkward good-night scene or rash decision about sleeping arrangements at the inn. Because as attracted as she was to Tyson, she wasn’t ready to jump into a physical relationship. At the same time, a part of her regretted not being able to spend more time alone with him. Their day at the beach had been perfect.

  “So,” she asked, “do your parents like Jana?”

  He glanced over at her and then back to the road. “Does it matter?”

  “Not really. Well, maybe a little.” A lot. If his mother didn’t like Jana as she hadn’t liked Saffron, maybe her pushing Saffron away was standard practice.

  “Uh, yeah. She and Jana get along.”

  Of course they did. And from his expression, it wasn’t just getting along. Great.

  When he brought the car to a stop in front of his house, she almost didn’t recognize it. The trees were larger, the landscaping changed, and with the new ramp, it looked completely different.

  “You think we can get it all finished tonight?” she said. “The sun’s already going down. We should have eaten fast food instead of going to a restaurant.”

  He grinned. “If you’re as good as you say you are, we’ll get it done.”

  She slugged him, and he reacted by putting his arms around her and kissing her. All the doubts of the evening fled.

  “When you hold me like this . . .” she started, but she couldn’t voice the words. Hope, fear, and desire filled her—but close on the heels of these positive emotions came the pain of old hurts.

  “I know,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay.”

  Something he’d always said to her, but he’d been wrong before. Oh, so wrong.

  “Come on,” he said, jumping from the car. She followed him out, her heart shrinking to a painful lump in her chest.

  He opened the trunk and began pulling out the stain and plastic they’d purchased on their way here. “Could you lay out the plastic over the driveway where it meets the ramp? The grass doesn’t matter, but I’d rather not get the stain on the driveway. While you’re doing that, I’ll zip around back and make sure the guys I hired aren’t taking an extended break. I want to make sure they finish tonight.”

  “Sure, no problem.” She was relieved to put off going inside to see his parents.

  “I’ll get the brushes and rollers when I come back. They’re in the garage where I’ll put a couple of these cans, since they’re for the back ramp.” Carrying two cans of stain, he started walking toward the garage but stopped after a few steps and added, “Unless you’d rather go around back and talk to the guys with me.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. Unless my sister’s there.” Saffron hadn’t seen Kendall since she’d left for school that morning, though she’d sent a brief text saying she’d be back at the inn later.

  “She wasn’t here when I talked to the guys, and I don’t see her car, but she’ll probably pick Joel up.” He hesitated. “Everything okay between them?”

  Saffron opened the plastic sheet. “I think so. Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Not really. One of the guys made a comment about his having to ask her permission to do things with them. I thought Joel would punch him out.” He started walking again. “Hopefully, they behaved themselves while I was gone.”

  Saffron hoped so too—for Tyson’s sake. She watched him punch in the garage code and disappear inside. She shook out the thin plastic, taking care to place it as close as she could to the ramp where it met the driveway. When she was finished, Tyson still hadn’t returned, so she went to the garage to look for some tape to secure the plastic to the cement. The single-car garage didn’t hold any cars at the moment—just a mishmash jumble of boards, planks, sheetrock, old appliances, and power tools. With a little snooping, she found a tote box of painting supplies and carried it out to the ramp.

  She’d barely set down the box on the plastic near the end of the ramp when the front door opened and Tyson’s mother stepped out. Both women froze, gazes locked. Saffron couldn’t have run away if she’d tried.

  Life had not been kind to Helene Dekker, and she’d aged considerably over the intervening years. Her brown hair, cut a few inches above the shoulders, was heavily streaked with gray, and her narrow face was deeply lined with wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. Her once-slender figure had blossomed, the weight mostly centered around her middle, which probably explained the gray stretch pants. She looked worn and tired and sad.

  Mrs. Dekker recovered first. She moved slowly down the ramp, a tentative smile on her face. “Hello, Roz. I’m glad you came.” Her eyes ran over Saffron. “You look the same. Well, not really. You’ve grown up some, of course. You’re beautiful.”

  Saffron swallowed with difficulty, knowing she should thank her but also knowing she couldn’t force out the words. “I came to help Tyson stain the ramp.”

  Mrs. Dekker reached Saffron where she stood next to the ramp. “I wanted to see you. To say”—she glanced in the direction of the garage, as if looking for help—“I know I can’t make up for what happened to you, but I am sorry. I wish things were different. And I am so sorry about the baby.”

  Was that it? Did Mrs. Dekker expect that Saffron would fo
rgive her for being unwelcoming to her as a teen? For deleting her calls and making Tyson think she’d abandoned him? For ultimately adding to the causes that killed her child?

  Saffron gathered every ounce of strength within her, pushing past the pain that threatened to spill out in a hateful rush. “I appreciate that,” she managed.

  Mrs. Dekker offered a tremulous smile. “I hope we can . . . I don’t know what you and Tyson plan, but I want you to know that I support whatever decision you two make. I . . . that’s all.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Dekker’s eyes begged for more, but the lump in Saffron’s heart could offer no other response. It was easy for Mrs. Dekker to say she’d honor their wishes now, when she couldn’t force Tyson off to military school to prevent him from finding her. Or mess with his phone. Tears threatened Saffron’s self-control. She wished she’d gone back to the inn with Halla instead of coming here. What had possibly made her think she could face them so soon?

  Without warning, Mrs. Dekker leaned forward and hugged her. “I am so, so sorry,” she whispered.

  Saffron couldn’t react. Her heart hurt and her arms remained frozen even after Mrs. Dekker moved away. I still hate you, she wanted to say. But it wasn’t really true. She understood why Mrs. Dekker had made her choice. For her son, for his future. For them it had worked out.

  The front door opened again, and a man came out in a motorized wheelchair. Saffron hadn’t seen Mr. Dekker much as a teen—she’d never even known his full name—but to her memory, his dark hair and grizzled face hadn’t aged a day. Only the wheelchair was new, replacing the cane he’d used previously.

  “You didn’t tell me we had company,” he said, gliding down the ramp.

  His wife moved aside to make room for him. “I didn’t know myself until a few minutes ago.”

  “Hey, young lady, do you like my new ramp?” Mr. Dekker asked, his face radiating pride. “My son built it. He’s a doctor, you know.” Either the man didn’t recognize her or he didn’t remember what had happened all those years ago.

 

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