Why Lie? (Love Riddles #2)

by Carey Heywood

  I look up at his scruffy jaw. “Is there anything I can do?”

  His arms tighten. “I know your friend is here but will you come with me when I go sit with her at lunch?”

  I lean back enough for our gazes to meet. “Of course.”

  He presses his lips to mine and thanks me again. Then, he lets me go. “Will you be able to fall back asleep?”

  I stifle a yawn and nod. “Cecil and I gabbed half the night away.”

  He cringes. “Now I feel bad for waking you.”

  I shake my head and pull him back down to me “You can wake me with a kiss anytime you like.”

  “It’s stopping that’s the hard part,” he murmurs, nipping at my lower lip.

  “Then stay,” I whisper.

  He hesitates long enough for me to get excited at the prospect of some morning loving when the sound of a door opening has us both turning our heads toward the hall. Cecil lifts a hand in silent greeting while scratching his ass with his other hand before walking into the bathroom.

  Heath turns his head back to look at me. “I’m guessing that was Cecil.”

  My eyes are still on the hallway. “What is he doing up this early?”

  Heath kisses my temple and stands. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  Oh, I plan on asking that cockblocking ass scratcher.

  “I need to go. Give me a kiss for the road.”

  Shifting up onto my knees, I rest my hands on his chest as he lowers his lips to mine. This kiss is long and wet. I start to freak that I haven’t brushed my teeth but since Heath doesn’t seem to mind, I stop worrying and just kiss my man.

  “Want me to pick you up or do you want to meet me there?” he asks as he pulls away.

  “I’ll meet you there,” I reply so he won’t have to waste time driving me around.

  He wraps his arms around me and squeezes before leaving. He’s only going to work so it would be silly to pout, even if I want to.

  “Bye, Cecil,” he calls as he passes the hall bathroom.

  “Bye, Heath,” Cecil replies.

  Shaking my head, I collapse back against the pillows. Cecil comes in not long after and flops down next to me.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I ask.

  He fluffs the pillow under his head. “It’s too quiet here.”

  “I have a noise machine at my place we can pick up for tonight,” I offer.

  “Are we going there for breakfast before we go car shopping?”

  I stifle another yawn. “Or we could nap for an hour and eat here.”

  “Is Gigi working today?”

  I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

  “She’s working the morning crowd so I’m going to go take my shower.”

  I don’t have to look behind to tell he’s smiling. Cecil, like anyone with sense, loves my Gigi and will want to see her. That means, tired or not, we’re dragging out butts to the diner this morning for breakfast.

  Once we’re ready, we pile into his car and make our way to Lola’s. Halfway there, Cecil starts messing with my hair.

  “Both hands on the wheel,” I laugh, swatting his hand away.

  He purses his lips and grumbles that I’m bossy now that I’m almost all better. He adds that I still could use some dimension to my blonde.

  I roll my eyes then flip the visor down to look at my hair in the mirror. “You don’t like the blonde?”

  He clucks his tongue. “That blonde is temporary and you know it. The only reason we did it was so you wouldn’t have to deal with all those broken bones and looking like a skunk because of your blonde roots and your black hair.”

  I shrug. “But I was blonde before.”

  Cecil presses a hand to his chest as his lip curls. “You take that back.”

  I laugh. “What?”

  His annoyance with me is plain. “You may have been blonde but you were not one solid color bleach blonde. No, you had tones and layers of blonde from dark honey to pale.”

  I tilt my head from side-to-side to get a better angle in the small rectangular mirror. “What do you think I should do?”

  The smile that spreads across his face tells me that all will be forgiven if I turn my hair over to him. “I think we should darken it up a bit. Not the ‘dyeing my feelings black’ we did last time but something warmer.”

  “I like the blonde though,” I argue.

  “We’re keeping the blonde, babe. We just need to blend some darker colors in because this whole head-one-shade look is not working for me.”

  “Fine,” I grumble, more to annoy him than anything else.

  As much as I like the blonde, I can follow his logic and more importantly, Cecil has never steered me wrong.

  We hit the diner during a lull so Gigi is able to sit with us while we eat. They talk a mile a minute so I don’t even get a word in edgewise while they gossip about Heath and me, right in front of me.

  Gigi loved that Heath stopped by this morning just to kiss me, and Cecil loved telling her. I can’t lie. I probably enjoyed it as much as the both of them.

  “What do you kids have planned between now and your lunch at the Mackey’s?”

  No matter how old I get, to Gigi I will always be a kid.

  “From here, we’re going to the used car dealership,” I reply.

  This news doesn’t surprise her. My sweet Lady was totaled in the mudslide. Now that I can drive again, I need a car.

  “Have you narrowed down what you’re looking for?” she asks.

  Cecil lowers his fork and makes a point of giving me his full attention since he was the one who would be car shopping with me later.

  “Four-wheel drive and decent ground clearance,” I reply.

  Logical or not, sedans, coups, and sports cars all make me nervous now. If I can find one I like with low miles, a small SUV is what I’m looking to buy.

  The door chimes as a group walks in. It still isn’t busy but Gigi takes it as her sign to get back to work. Cecil pays, leaving a huge tip, even after I tell him not do. As always, he ignores me.

  Linking his arm through mine, he leads us out the door. “Let’s go buy a car.”

  Two hours later, he’s following in his car back to Heath’s place.

  I let him in and speed walk as fast as I can with my boot to the bathroom to do an appearance check.

  “You look beautiful, Syd,” Cecil breathes from the doorway to the bathroom.

  I smooth the skirt of my dress down for a tenth time. “Are you sure?”

  He locks eyes with me in the mirror and nods. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you already met them?”

  My mouth twists before I admit, “I was in a wheelchair then. People are either extra nice to you or pretend like they don’t see you at all when you’re in a chair. What if they don’t like me out of it?”

  He blinks, then smiles. “You thinking they might not like you because you’re no longer in a wheelchair is the craziest shit I’ve heard in a long time, and you know I hear crazy shit on a regular basis. But if that is what has you freaked, at least you still have an ugly-ass cane for them to pity you about.”

  This was no lie. The stories he told me were so crazy I wondered if he made them up. Then I went to stay with him and found out first-hand how bizarre his neighbors were.

  My lips tip up and I immediately suppress it and frown again. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m busy being nervous here. And, what’s wrong with my cane?”

  He steps into the bathroom and loops his arm around my shoulders. “There is no reason for you to be nervous. That boy is into you and the fact that his parents want you in their space right now is a sign that they already like you. And, don’t get me started on all the ways that cane is ugly. You should have told me before I left Frisco. I could have bought you a gorgeous faux snakeskin one.”

  I turn my face to look at him, his handsome profile right in front of me. Leaning forward, I press my lips to his cheek.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

&n
bsp; “Anytime. Now get your ass on the road so I can go take a nap.”

  Cecil and his naps.

  I do as he orders; only I do it laughing.

  Heath is waiting for me, leaned up against his Audi when I pull into the drive of his parents’ house.

  I barely have my new ride in park before he’s at my door. “You didn’t say you were getting a new car today.”

  “You like?” I ask, killing the engine.

  He nods and then takes a step back, his eyes moving over the silver body. “It suits you.”

  Reaching forward, he opens my door for me. Taking his offered hand after my new ride’s locks are beeped, he leads me to the front door.

  His mom isn’t sitting up like the last time I saw her. Now, it’s the hospital bed that’s doing all the work. An oxygen mask covers her mouth and nose. Condensation fogs it and then clears with each breath.

  Her hair is braided, pulled back from her face. If possible, she is even thinner than the last time I saw her. Maybe I didn’t notice it before, or maybe the blanket that had covered her disguised it with its busy print.

  Today her blanket is a solid teal blue. It does nothing to hide her frame beneath it. Her kneecaps and hip bones protrude in a way that even I, with no medical training, can tell is bad.

  Her skin is gray, the area under her eyes dark and sunken. Her eyes, while still the same endless blue Heath inherited from her, seem cloudy with haze.

  She lifts her hand and taps on her mask. Heath moves past me to help her take it off. He then moves behind the chair he sat in last time we were here. “I’m going to go look for my dad. Want to keep my mom company while I do?”

  I nod, moving first to stand by her bed. “Hello, Mrs. Mackey.”

  She gives me a soft smile. “No more casts.”

  I grin back and lift my leg. “Just this boot and cane now.”

  “Is it uncomfortable?” she asks.

  I glance back at Heath and mouth “Thank you,” as he shifts the chair closer for me to sit in. Once I’m seated, he leans over the back of it to kiss the top of my head.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  His mom doesn’t miss this exchange.

  I watch him walk from the room and turn back to his mom once he’s gone.

  “He never loved her.”

  I blink but am unable to form words.

  “Kacey,” she goes on. “She’s a great girl. I was happy for them but scared they wouldn’t last.”

  “I—”

  She keeps talking. “That doesn’t scare me anymore. Watching the way he is with you, I know he was never in love with her.”

  She coughs, the force of it shaking her whole body. I reach for her arm and shift my now panicked eyes to the door. Her other hand covers mine as her coughs subside and I turn back to her.

  “Should I get your mask?” I ask. “Or Heath?”

  She responds with a gentle shake of her head.

  Her hand squeezes mine. “He loves you.”

  My nose starts to sting and I have to blink back the wetness hitting my eyes. It is clear that each word she says is an effort. An effort she expended to tell me Heath loves me.

  Like a latch clicking into place, I believe her. Deep down to the very center of my soul I cannot deny the truth in her words. Her eyes do not leave my face. She smiles, having witnessed firsthand, the emotions at play there.

  “You love him, too.” She confirms what my face gave away.

  “I’m scared,” I admit.

  She presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes closed. When her eyes reopen, they are wet like mine. “Don’t be,” she whispers. “Let your love for each other make you fearless.”

  I heard every word.

  Every. Single. Word.

  We have a high tech-baby monitor in the den with receivers in the kitchen and in my dad’s bedroom. That way if my mom ever needs him, he’ll know. The first place I went to look was the kitchen so I heard their conversation.

  I’m not surprised my mom can tell I love Sydney. In fact, I’m relieved she figured it out on her own. If I would’ve told her myself, I was concerned she wouldn’t have believed me. That she would have thought those words, coming so shortly after I claimed to feel the same way for Kacey, would have been another attempt at me checking an item off her bucket list.

  This is better.

  “You okay?”

  I jerk, startled by my dad’s question and turn my head to look at him.

  Sydney’s voice comes through the monitor. “Okay.”

  My mom replies, “I couldn’t have dreamed a better woman for my boy.”

  At those words, I find it hard to stand and move to sit. My father comes close, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder.

  I listen as either Sydney or my mom quietly sniffles through the monitor. It must be Sydney because her voice is thick with emotion when she replies, “Thank you.”

  They’re both silent after that.

  “Let’s go check on them,” my dad murmurs, his hand still on my shoulder.

  I suck in a breath and then nod. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be right in.”

  He gives my shoulder another squeeze while also giving me a sympathetic look. He then leaves.

  In that moment, listening to something so beautiful between my mother and the woman I love, it hits me how much I’ll miss in the future. I’ll never walk into a room to find Sydney gabbing on the phone with her. I’ll never get to experience my mother watching me start a family. I’d never rush Sydney into marrying me like I stupidly tried to do with Kacey but I will still mourn my mom missing my wedding day.

  The only thing that gives me any sort of solace is that at least she knows I have someone. I may not be able to give my mom the ceremony, or the piece of paper that says it, but I’ve found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.

  Pushing back from the table, I stand. One lesson I do not need a reminder of is to not waste the time I have left with my mom. For that reason, I don’t slow my steps as I make my way back to the den.

  My father is sitting on the sofa while Sydney is still in the chair on the other side of my mother’s bed.

  Their conversation must have taken a lot out of my mom, because her mask is back on. She doesn’t like to wear it when she has company, says it makes her feel like Darth Vader.

  Since there isn’t anything medically left that can be done for her, all we can do is make her as comfortable as possible. We also have a hospice worker, Beth, who visits her.

  A coworker once shared his experience with a hospice worker to me. How comforting their presence was for his family during such a scary and unfamiliar time. It had been an uncle who’d died. From diagnosis to his death, he’d lived five months. He went from being a healthy guy to someone who was dying. His family needed the help in navigating the uncertainty of dealing with death.

  It’s been different for my dad and me. My mom has been dying since I was born. There isn’t anything that hasn’t been considered or already planned for us.

  Claiming the chair next to Sydney’s, I try not to think of anything other than now. With her mask back on, my mom is quiet. My father speaks for her, currently entertaining Sydney with embarrassing stories about me. I rest my arm on the back of her chair, my fingertips dusting the skin of her shoulder. She sits close to Mom’s bed, close enough that one of her hands is sandwiched between my mom’s.

  Sydney’s eyes are on my dad as he tells her about the time I raided a neighbor’s garage for beer when I was in high school. She doesn’t let on that I’ve already told her this story. My gaze moves from her profile to my mom’s face.

  My mom is looking at us. She’s tired but even behind the clear plastic of her mask, I can tell she’s happy.

  Without even trying, I gave that to her.

  “How long were you grounded?” Sydney asks.

  I smirk at my dad. “The entire summer.”

  Sydney laughs. “Serves you right, you little delinquent.”

&
nbsp; “Oh, I learned my lesson,” I reply.

  My mom weakly nods while my dad says, “That’s the good thing about Heath. He doesn’t repeat his mistakes.”

  “Nope,” I joke. “I like to keep things interesting by coming up with new ones.”

  Mom looks over and points at Dad, her mouth forming the word “You.”

  He shrugs. “Your mom seems to think you inherited that from me.”

  “Never seen you repeat a mistake,” I admit. Then I look at my mom and murmur, “And I never saw you make one.”

  She shakes her head, lifting her hand from Sydney’s to shake her finger as well.

  I keep going, “You can try and argue but you’ll never win this argument.”

  She presses her hand to her chest and then points at me. Her eyes are shining when I say, “I love you too, mom.”

  Not long after, she falls asleep. Since her sleep is all over the place right now, Sydney, my dad and I, go to the kitchen to eat lunch. This way, we won’t disturb her with our conversation.

  “How long do you need to wear the boot?” Dad asks Sydney once we’re all seated and served.

  “Except for sleeping and showering, I need to wear it and use the cane all the time for a week. The week after I can stop using the cane and only need to wear it when I go outside. After that I don’t have to wear it at all.”

  “It’s good to see you up and around again. Heath’s mom and I wanted to come up and see you in the hospital but with her health. . . .”

  She waves one hand and rests her other hand on my bicep. “I completely understand. Besides, Heath came up to see me every day.”

  Sure weeks have passed but like my dad said, seeing her up and getting around again is a miracle. For weeks after the slide, I had nightmares about not being able to get help. I dreamed she died right in front of me and there was nothing I could do. The only thing that made those dreams go away was watching her heal. That was part of the reason I visited her daily, to remind myself that she was alive and well.

  Taking her hand from where it rests on my arm, I lift it to my mouth and brush my lips across her knuckles. Having her here and knowing that she’ll be there for me is what’s currently keeping me sane.

  Focusing on the good, on her, is all I can do. In a way, my parents are doing the same thing. They’re focusing on us, on the good, on the way life goes on no matter what. She’s a welcome distraction with no expiration date. It’s a relief for all of us to watch someone get better.