The Beauty of Lies

by Brinda Berry

  Harper’s lips tremble and she looks away. “I want to believe in you. I do. But it’s too big of a risk.”

  “Look at me, Harper. I’m crazy about you. I’m a sure bet. “

  She gives me a half-hearted smile. “No. You’re a high-stakes gamble. I did want to trust you before. Now, it’s just too late.”

  She turns, enters her apartment, and leaves me standing in the hallway—my world turned gray.

  * * *

  I stretch my arms out above my head. It’s still early, but the sounds of the bakery already drift up through the vents. Today, I begin my new life as a romantic. A hopeful. A believer in forever.

  I pull on my clothes and walk downstairs. James is working the counter and Erik is in the back this morning. I examine my choices and my mouth waters.

  “Morning. What’ll you have?” James stands poised with a waxed paper ready.

  “Cinnamon rolls. Four, please.”

  “Coming right up.” He grabs the pastry and a white box. “Did Harper’s friend find her?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, getting my wallet out.

  “I forget about the new lock. The girl came in saying she was supposed to meet Harper but couldn’t get in. Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” I smile at him. “I’ll let Harper know.”

  “Well, good. She said Harper would be really upset if she didn’t get in.” James waves off the bill I attempt to hand him.

  I frown. Harper doesn’t get mad at anyone. A tingle travels down my spine. “When was this?”

  “Yesterday. The girl asked if she could borrow the key to get in for a few minutes.”

  “Did she have dark hair? Tall? Prissy?”

  “Yeah,” he says with a chuckle. “Prissy fits. She came back yesterday afternoon and said she’d forgotten to bring me the key back.”

  “Uh huh. We’re going to have to get the lock changed.”

  “Problem?”

  “Yeah. I’ll pay for a locksmith. Are you cool with that? I’ll get it done today and bring you new keys. Also if that girl comes back, call me. No one should be let in.”

  “Got it. Sorry if it was a mistake.” James looks to the next person in line.

  I eat one roll on the way upstairs. There are some things I need to remedy in my life and Tori is first on my list. I grab a red marker from my apartment and write on the white bakery bag—‘Sweets for the sweet.’

  After showering, I tape the bag to Harper’s door. Her words last night cut into my heart. I had expected a second chance. What if she never gives it to me?

  I push the negative thoughts away. I have changes to make in my life, beginning now.

  It takes forty-five minutes to drive to Tori’s salon. Her doors aren’t open yet, so I wait in a parking space. She’s always late. It shouldn’t surprise me when the front doors don’t open on time.

  When I walk inside, Tori sits in a styling chair. She flips through a magazine and doesn’t notice me.

  A receptionist greets me. “Good morning. What can we do to help you?”

  “Tori,” I say, pointing at her.

  Her head pops up. “Leo. What a nice surprise.” She looks around. Two stylists prep their stations. “We can talk privately in the back.”

  “No. That’s all right. We can talk here.”

  She studies herself in the mirror and fidgets with her ring, spinning it around on her finger. It’s her wedding set. She must wear it sometimes and certainly didn’t expect me to show up today.

  “I know you came by the apartment yesterday.” I give her a hard look, my eyes narrowed.

  “You’re mistaken,” Tori says.

  The girl at the next station glances over curiously. I nod at her and return my attention to Tori.

  “If you ever step foot in the building again, I’ll do two things. I’ll call the police, since you will be breaking and entering.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She laughs, her lips tight in a fake smile.

  “I’ll also print a column about you and all your lies, every tiny deceitful thing you’ve done, on Mr. Expose. Have you heard of it? I’m Mr. Expose.” I know she has heard of it. Even Good Morning America talked about the popularity of my blog, calling it the new generation of reality television.

  I’m no longer ashamed of what I’ve been doing with my writing. It’s print journalism that helps uncover the truth.

  Her mouth drops and the other stylists stop what they’re doing.

  “So think about it,” I say. “You’ll be the talk of Nashville. Everyone will know what a bitch you are.”

  “You wouldn’t.” She takes a couple of steps forward.

  “I would.” I turn to the other stylists. “Have a nice day, ladies.”

  I turn my back on her and leave, betting she won’t stab me in the back with styling sheers since we have witnesses.

  22

  Eleventh Hour

  Harper

  “Fresh baked cinnamon rolls. Yum.” Josie munches on one and licks the sugar from her fingertips. “He wrote you a love note on the bag. Don’t you think this is romantic?”

  “Um…no. That’s hardly a love note.” I bite into my own pastry. “Sticking baked goods to my door doesn’t change anything.”

  She lowers her chin and looks up at me with sad, puppy eyes. “Come on. Harper. I can vouch for him. He needs a second chance.”

  “Second?” I make a scoffing sound. “I appreciate that you love him and want us together, but I can’t do it.”

  There’s a deep, stabbing ache in my chest whenever I think about Leo. I look away from Josie so she won’t see it in my eyes. The pastry suddenly tastes bitter and I throw it in the trash.

  Josie glances at her cell phone. “What time is your flight?”

  “At ten. Thanks for coming by. I guess I’d better head that way.” I grab my purse and suitcase.

  Josie throws her arms around me. “Text me. Call me. Whatever.”

  “You know I will.” I give her a too-bright smile. It feels odd to be leaving my little apartment and this life I’ve made, even if it’s only for a visit home. “You don’t want to come with me?”

  She releases her hold on me and pulls back with a pout on her face. “I can’t leave the bookstore. Or I would.”

  “I know. Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything. For being a terrific friend.”

  * * *

  I’ve been away from Austin, Texas for four and half years. In that time, nothing has really changed. I guess I expected my hometown to look different somehow.

  I maneuver the rental car into a metered parking spot in front of Starbucks. My cell dings with an incoming text as I turn off the motor.

  Josie: Where r u now?

  Me: Hey. Haven’t even made it home yet. Supposed to meet a friend for a coffee first.

  Josie: Can I get your parents address? In case I can get away from the store?

  Me: Sure.

  I text the address before poking change into the parking meter. When I enter the coffee shop I’m glad to see it isn’t crowded. There’s an empty table near the windows. I order an iced coffee and head for it. This meeting has been coming for a while and I’m surprised at the excited, anxious feeling fluttering in my belly.

  I’ve seen one photo of Isabella while researching online. I’m curious. I was surprised when I learned her age and Wesley’s real age—both a decade older than myself.

  I scan the cars as they pass on the street.

  The café’s door opens. A woman steps inside and holds the door.

  A young girl with chestnut hair and chocolate-colored eyes in a wheelchair enters, her grin lopsided. She’s young, female version of Wesley.

  “Harper!” She wheels to the first table in her way and stops. I realize I should’ve chosen a better table and hop up to switch seats.

  “Hey there. How did you recognize me?”

  She tilts her head. “Your picture is attached to
your email address. I asked Mom to show me since you guys are friends. Your picture is so old. You’re much prettier in person.”

  “Oh. I don’t ever go online.” I glance up at Isabella. We’d agreed that she would tell Charley I’m a family friend. It’s the truth.

  Isabella is blonde and slim, with a heart-shaped face. Her coloring matches mine and it’s startling that we sort of resemble one another. We could be sisters.

  “Hi Harper. So nice to finally meet you,” Isabella says.

  I hold out my hand and she shakes her head. I’m confused, but then she takes the steps to close the distance and hugs me. When she draws back, she has tears in her eyes.

  “Yes, finally.” The hug feels nice, the kind from a long-lost friend. I’m intensely relieved that it isn’t weird at all.

  Charley attempts to move a chair to the side of the table. “Mom?”

  “Got it. Don’t be so impatient,” Isabella says, arranging our table so Charley has plenty of room. She looks to me. “You two sit tight and I’ll get some drinks.”

  She walks to the counter and I smile at Charley. “So. Tell me about your school. What’s your favorite class?”

  Charley launches into detailed explanation of her computer classes that she loves. “My dad taught me how to code, so I’m way ahead of all the other kids in the programming class.” She pauses. “You knew my dad, right?”

  “Yeah. I did.” I keep my voice neutral even though the thought of Wesley and his secret double life still affects me. “He was a coder?”

  Something sad flickers across her features only for a moment. Then, it lifts. “Pft! He was the best one around. There’s the guy in my programming class who looks exactly like Harry Styles.”

  “Who’s that?” I grin at her.

  “You don’t know.” Her lips quirk. “One Direction?” She grabs her phone and searches for something to show me.

  Just like that, her focus changes from talking about her dad to a cute boy she has a crush on. When Isabella returns with the drinks for her and Charley, I can’t stop smiling.

  I’ve done the right thing. Revealing the truth would only hurt an innocent girl. Maybe someday, Isabella will tell her. I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not for me to decide.

  * * *

  I drive to my parents’ house with the lightest feeling in ages. Pulling into the driveway is surreal. It’s a modest neighborhood with houses lined in a straight row. It’s the house I grew up in. A massive oak shades the front lawn and there’s still a bare spot where the grass doesn’t grow.

  The curtains of the front window pull back and Mama’s face appears. She waves and the curtain drops.

  My belly does a nervous flip as I park the car. I’d hoped she would run outside and greet me.

  Although we’ve been cordial on the phone, I know they’ll never forgive me for running off with Wesley and only leaving a note to explain.

  I get out of the car. Baby steps.

  Mama opens the door and waits for me. Her smile is huge. “Where have you been? We thought your flight landed at two-thirty.”

  I can’t stop myself from running to the door and hugging her. “Mama, I’ve missed you so much.”

  I feel like I’m back with my best friend, my confidante, my mentor. I swallow the lump in my throat.

  She hugs me back and pulls me inside. “It’s so good to have you home.”

  The minute I walk inside, I glance around and my throat tightens. Maybe my homecoming isn’t going to be easy after all. “Where’s Daddy?”

  I search my brain for all the reasons he’d be missing. Maybe he had a church function he couldn’t miss. Or someone is in the hospital.

  “He’s in the kitchen.” Mama takes me hand. “Come on. He’s watching the oven. Cookies are almost done.”

  “Oh. OK.” I walk with Mama through the house and into my favorite room. It’s the one I’ve thought about the most when I missed home. The aromas of chocolate and vanilla hit me. And a different scent drifts through the air.

  I turn the corner behind Mama and all I see are flowers. Flowers everywhere—on the table, on the counter beside the oven, on the rolling cart with the microwave. There are roses and lilies and sunflowers.

  “Has someone died?” I mumble. There has to be a dozen arrangements scattered around the room.

  She grins at me. “They’re all for you.”

  “You didn’t have to do that. This must’ve cost a fortune.”

  Daddy pulls a pan from the oven and tosses the mitt aside. He holds out his arms, waiting for me. “Sweet Angel. It’s about time.”

  I fling myself into his arms. “Daddy.” His arms close around me in a tight, comforting hug. He smells of the same aftershave he’s worn since I was a kid. It’s as though I never left.

  “It’s good to have you home,” he says. He releases me slowly. “This young man sent all the flowers.”

  My head jerks up. “What?”

  Daddy takes my shoulders and turns me. “Leo. He sent them.”

  Leo sits at the far end of the table. “Hi,” he says softly.

  My heart lodges in my throat. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Yes. I know.” His intense gaze studies me. “I’ve been telling your father that you may throw me out. But I wanted to meet your parents in case you decide to forgive me. Actually, Josie scared me pretty bad. She didn’t tell me you were only visiting. But that doesn’t matter. I still would’ve come.”

  My mouth tips up at one corner. Oh, interfering Josie. You’ve gotta love her. “You need to do something about your sister.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been trying for years. There’s no stopping her.” He grins. “I’m going to a hotel room. You should spend time with your folks. But I have more to say to you. If you’ll let me.”

  I only nod, overwhelmed and conflicted. Leo shakes Daddy’s hand and Mama walks him to the door. Then, he’s gone.

  I sit at the table and scoot a vase of pink roses to the side so I can see my parents. “I…um…dated Leo, and we broke up. That’s what all this is about.” I wave my hand at the flowers.

  “He seems like a very nice man.” Mama smiles. “He told us he lives next door to you. He also told us about his parents and twin and his writing. Oh, and that online thing. Blog?”

  My mouth drops. “He told you all that? How long was he here?”

  Daddy takes the seat next to me. “Maybe half an hour.”

  I stare at Daddy. “And he just started giving his whole life history?”

  Daddy chuckles and shakes his head. “He said he wanted us to know everything about him. That boy sure is over the moon for you. I like him all right, and he’s a talker. The gift of speech. Has he ever thought about the ministry?”

  “No, Daddy. He’s really not a talker. He’s more the introverted type.” A buried part of hope leaps out of my heart, screaming at me to see what he’s done.

  Daddy nods, thoughtful. There’s a long silence. “You must be very important to him, then. Men like Leo don’t just spill everything to strangers on a whim. He’s committed to you.”

  I gulp, my skin hot and my nerves tingling. There’s a reason I ran off with Wesley as an eighteen-year-old and didn’t give my parents a chance to talk sense into me. Deep down, I’d known something was wrong. They would’ve known it and told me so.

  They don’t even hesitate with Leo. It’s clear he’s not hiding anything. When I was eighteen, I was sure they were always wrong. At twenty-two, I know they’re right.

  “Do you mind if I call Leo really quick? I know I just got here, but…”

  Mama places her hand on top of mine. “Angel, he’s on the front porch. He called a cab and he’s waiting outside.”

  I rush to my feet so quickly, my head spins. In another two seconds, I’m out the door and running to the steps. I knock into Leo, who sits on a step. He catches my legs before I can tumble down.

  “Whoa.” He releases me.

  I suck in air. “Why are you here?”

/>   “Cab. I called—”

  “No.” I shake my head frantically. “I mean, tell me why you followed me.”

  “Can you sit?” He shifts over to make room on the brick step.

  I sit next to him, sticking my shaky hands between my knees. Leo turns his indigo gaze on full force, dangerous as radiation. I feel myself melting.

  “Because I can be as stubborn as you are.” He grins. “I never wanted to get back together with Tori. But I wasn’t letting her go either. I kept thinking about what she’d done to me and how it could happen again. And then you came along and wrecked all my intentions to stay unattached. I lied to myself, saying my life would be less complicated that way. But it was just that. A lie.”

  He reaches across and takes my hand in his, linking our fingers. “If I thought I could forget about you, I would. It’s what you’ve asked me to do. Leave you alone. But I can’t.”

  Leo brings my knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “So, I sent flowers and tried to win over your parents and I’ve written a post on Mr. Expose about my identity. About not hiding behind a facade with the people who are important in my life. I’m playing all my cards. That’s why.”

  The cab pulls to the curb. I unlace my fingers from Leo’s. “So you’re saying you’re not a quitter,” I whisper. My heartbeat thrums in my head.

  “That’s it. Basically. And that I’m in love with you.”

  My breath catches at this simple phrase, one I know he doesn’t take lightly. “That reason works for me.” I grab his shirt. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

  Daddy opens the door and sends the cab away.

  Leo lowers his head. “Whatever the woman wants.”

  The Fiction of Forever

  A Stand By Me Novel #2

  Coming Soon

  Gunner Parrish knows better than anyone that forever is a lie. Even families don't stick around in the long run. Especially the ones you love the most.