And then—in my fantasy—she’d smiled.
But that was it. That was supposed to be the end of the story. And now it was too late to yank it back from thousands of American radio stations.
What a total fucking disaster. I should have kept my heartache to myself.
After two sets of pushups, I rooted around in my duffel bag for my toothbrush. When I went back into the bathroom, Quinn was still there, patting moisturizer beneath her eyes. I grabbed her face in my hands and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for?”
“I love you even when you’re prickly,” I said, turning back to the sink. “And you’re pretty smart, too.”
Her eyes dipped. “I don’t want to see anyone steamroll you. You’re too nice sometimes. The world is full of people who’d take advantage.”
“Maybe. But Kira isn’t one of them.”
Quinn’s expression in the mirror made it clear that she didn’t believe me.
* * *
I scrolled through the new numbers in my phone as I walked through the living room.
“Hey,” Ethan called to me. “You okay?”
I looked up to see him and Nixon watching at me. “I will be. And thanks for the excellent chili.”
“That must have been some shock, man.” Nixon eyed me with an expression that was more empathetic than usual. Lately, when I looked at my oldest friend all I saw was barely concealed anger. At what, I couldn’t say. And until yesterday, figuring out what the fuck was wrong with Nixon had been at the top of my summer to-do list.
If only the g-forces of reality would ease up for a minute or two, I might be able to finish a thought.
“It was a shock,” I admitted.
He grinned. “I can’t believe there’s somebody who’s gonna call Jonas Daddy.”
“That’s pretty scary, right?” Although it wasn’t clear that anyone would ever call me Daddy. Kira didn’t seem to want that. I took a step toward the door.
“Nah,” Nixon said, giving his head a shake. “Actually, it’s not scary at all. Not a thing wrong with you. That kid is lucky.”
The words stopped me in my tracks. “Thanks, man. That means a lot.” We’d been friends a long time, but it wasn’t like us to sit around talking about our feelings.
“I mean… if a kid called me Daddy, now that would be scary.”
I paused at the door. “Look, can you guys do me a favor? This needs to stay a secret for a while. Kira is pretty freaked out, and I don’t know what’s going on in her head.”
Ethan chuckled. “Do you know what’s in your own head? You’re going to go all broody now, aren’t you? Shit. I can’t take you and Nixon both moping at the same time. That’ll damn near kill me.”
“Good thing we pay well.” I shoved my phone into my pocket.
Ethan’s face closed down. “Speaking of people who are well paid, I spoke to your lawyer. Gave him all the details—the little girl’s address, that stuff. He’ll get to work Tuesday morning, first thing.”
“Details?” I frowned. “Where’d you get the info?” I didn’t even know Vivi’s birth date.
“Adam,” Ethan said. “Got ’em from Adam.”
“Oh.”
“He’s Kira’s lawyer.”
“Oh, of course.” I wondered when my head would ever stop spinning.
“Damn convenient for her, really. It won’t cost Kira anything when you sue for paternity.”
I froze on the doorstep. “Wait. I don’t want to sue anybody.”
Ethan waved a hand. “Petition for paternity. Same thing.”
“Dude, this has to be done carefully. And quietly. No reporters.”
“I get it. Deep breaths, dude.”
“Thanks. I’m going out.”
“Ring if you need anything.”
I went out into the night, banging the screen door shut behind me. It was dark, but moonlight washed across the dirt road. When I tilted my chin toward the night sky, I remembered something else about Maine. The stars were fucking brilliant. With no urban light to mask them, they dazzled overhead.
In Los Angeles, the only stars were on the sidewalk. What was the use of that?
Nine
Kira
I left my father in charge of Vivi’s bedtime, because there was someone I needed to meet on Main Street.
Walking in the dark made me uncomfortable, even though Nest Lake was a safe place. The weekly crime report was full of people getting fined for fishing without a license or the occasional kegger thrown by teens in the woods.
But for me, there were no safe places. I’d always carry the knowledge that violence was real and terrible. Still, I paused for a moment at the town beach, just to prove I could—daring myself to remember that my independence was worth the risk.
This view of the lake at night had always made me feel wistful. Spots of lamplight shimmered from the lakefront homes, and occasional laughter floated over the glassy water. As a girl I’d imagined everyone else’s dinner tables were happier places than my own.
And maybe they were. My mother had left when I was nine, claiming she couldn’t abide another minute in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere. Eight years later, we’d gotten word that she had drowned in a boating accident on another tiny lake somewhere in Canada.
The relief I’d felt was my darkest secret. Her death meant that I could stop wondering whether she’d ever come back for me.
After she’d left, my father held down the fort as best he could. He loved his kids, I supposed, but he’d done so in a gruff and unbending way that had cut down me and Adam. Every year seemed to bring more tension. Adam coming out of the closet had led to a year of slammed doors and brief but spectacular shouting matches. Adam escaped to college as soon as he could, and rarely came back.
I’d been eager to follow him to Boston, and at eighteen, I’d become a bright-eyed freshman at Boston U. College life had been great, but early in my sophomore year, the assault had killed my joy along with my confidence.
I’d limped through the rest of the fall semester. Adam did his best to comfort me, but he was a busy law student, and I hadn’t wanted to let on how terrified and depressed I really was. So I took the spring and summer off, hiding out in Nest Lake to try to regain my footing. It had mostly worked, with a little help from a certain guitar-playing hottie.
But my return to school was cut short after discovering I was pregnant. The week before Christmas, I packed up my dorm room, this time moving across town to Adam’s little apartment, where I slept on the couch until his roommate moved out in the spring. During the last months of my pregnancy, I worked at the library, saving money and trying to prepare myself for becoming a parent.
At Adam’s law school graduation in May, I’d been as big as a house.
Vivi was born on a rainy night in early June. That summer, Adam studied for the bar exam during the baby’s screamy newborn days. Some nights he’d read contract law standing at the kitchen counter with Vivi wrapped in a sling around his chest.
My brother was my rock. He’d basically set aside his personal life these past four years because of me and Vivi.
But now that Jonas had reappeared, I felt the sand shifting under my feet once again. The poor man was in shock. I never meant to do that to him. After all, I’d had a taste of that shock myself. After I’d learned his real identity, I could barely make sense of it. I read his wikipedia entry, and it was like reading about an utter stranger. Song titles and famous girlfriends and European tours and music awards.
I couldn’t reconcile that information with the man I thought I knew. Except maybe the part about famous girlfriends.
Then a few more months slipped by without my taking any action. Vivi turned two. And then three. At various times I’d look Jonas up. Once I wrote down the mailing address of his L.A. management company.
But every time I pictured writing that letter, I was always reminded of that other letter I’d written already. And the idea of confessing som
ething so huge in a letter left me cold. It would be like sealing my heart into an envelope and sending it into the void.
So I just didn’t. And every day that I waited made it harder to change my mind.
Now, I turned my back on the lake and walked the rest of the way to my father’s store. It was closed now, but I climbed the steps to the porch, where I’d left a six-pack chilling in a tub of ice. I lit the old citronella candle on the table and sat down to wait.
Five minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching.
My visitor didn’t whistle, and I tried not to hold it against him.
The door opened and my ex-boyfriend Luke stepped onto the porch. I plastered on a friendly smile and took him in. His brown hair was buzzed as short as it had been while he was in the service. And even though his days as a tight end for the high school football team were long over, he still filled out his clothes like a football player.
Luke was, to quote my brother, a fine looking hunk of man. In high school, we’d been inseparable. We’d gone to homecoming together, and eventually prom. That night, on a blanket in the middle of someone’s back meadow, we’d had sex for the first time.
Those were such innocent days. And they felt like a million years ago.
“Hi, Kiki,” he said now, as the screen door slammed shut behind him. I jumped at the sound. “Sorry,” he said, sliding into the chair opposite me. He stretched a hand across the table to cover mine. “How are you?”
“Okay,” I lied. Thirty-six hours ago I’d been looking forward to catching up with him. But now I was twisted in so many knots, it was hard to focus. “I’m sorry that I never got back to you about our bike ride.”
“S’okay,” he said with a shrug. “I coulda called before I came over today.”
Yes, you could have. “Vivi loved going with you, though,” I said quickly.
“Maybe we can all go tomorrow.” His brown eyes studied me. They were full of questions.
“That might work,” I said carefully. “Although Adam wants to go back to the city tomorrow.”
Adam didn’t want to stay over on Sunday night, claiming he had an appointment on Monday. But who had an appointment on Memorial Day? It was probably just an excuse to cut the visit short. I wasn’t going to call him on it.
“Have a beer, Luke.” I reached down for a couple of bottles, popped them open, and passed him one.
“Thank you.” He touched his bottle to mine and took a sip. Then he studied me. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about today?”
And there it is. I took a sip, playing for time. I’d been expecting this question, but that didn’t make it any easier to answer. “I can’t, Luke. I’m sorry.” I smiled as kindly as I could, knowing he wouldn’t be satisfied with my answer.
His eyebrows knitted together. “Is that man Vivi’s father?”
“Luke,” I said quickly. “Please don’t press me.”
He reached for my hand across the table, giving it a squeeze. “But why, Kira? Why won’t you just talk to me? Otherwise we’ll never get past it. I know I fucked up the first time you told me. I was young and angry, and I acted like a shit. But that was a long time ago. And now I ask one question, and you say, ‘Don’t press me.’”
“Luke,” I whispered. “That’s the only question I won’t answer. Because I think Vivi should know who her father is before I tell anyone else.”
“That’s fair.” He let out a big sigh. “Except I don’t want to be just ‘anyone else.’ What do I have to do to convince you that I’m on your side?”
“It’s not about sides,” I insisted. Although, four and a half years ago when I’d told him that I was pregnant, everyone else in town seemed to be taking sides.
And Luke had not taken mine.
But that wound wasn’t fresh anymore. Years later, I found it possible to understand that he’d only said out loud what the rest of the town had been thinking. He’d spoken out of anger and shock, and we had been young and stupid.
Still, it had hurt. A lot.
“Look, I’ve said I’m sorry, honey,” he said. “I’ve told you so many times. My reaction was hotheaded and wrong. But that was a long time ago. And it hurts that you won’t forgive me, even though I’m still here, asking you to.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. “I do, Luke. I forgive you.”
He accepted this with a nod. “I appreciate that, Kira. You know, I’m probably moving to the Boston area after New Year’s,” he said quietly. “I start interviewing for jobs in the fall, and I graduate in December.”
“I’m proud of you,” I managed to say. “Graduating in just three years.”
“But I had it easy,” he said, his fingers brushing the backs of my knuckles. “I had the GI Bill and a few summer classes. It isn’t a struggle for me like it is for you.”
Okay, that was a nice thing to say. I stared down at his hand, wondering when it might finally feel right to get back together with him. He wanted me, in spite of everything that had happened.
And he had apologized.
But something always held me back. At first I’d told myself that I was too busy with the baby. And then I’d told myself that a Maine/Boston relationship would never work.
Now here he was, on the verge of moving to my own city.
Raising my chin, I looked him right in the eye. I saw warmth reflected back at me. Luke was comfortable and familiar. I could get used to that kind of affection, couldn’t I?
“Maybe you can help me figure out where to look for an apartment,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You know the neighborhoods.”
“Sure,” I said easily. “I’ll help you.” I tried to imagine what it would be like having Luke around. We could meet for dinner or a movie.
There hadn’t been any men in my life since Vivi was born. I’d gone on maybe three dates in four years. The hurdles were just too high. Dating meant time apart from Vivi, and more babysitting hours from Adam. As it was, my brother stayed home whenever I had a night class or an evening shift at the library circulation desk. Any date I went on meant yet another night chiseled from Adam’s social life.
For a single mother, dating was an impossible luxury.
But with Luke, it would be easier. He and Vivi already knew each other. And with him, I didn’t have to pretend to be a typical twenty-five-year-old. He knew my story already, and he kept showing up.
“I’ll probably have to rent a real shithole at first,” Luke said with half a laugh. “Entry-level jobs won’t pay very well.”
“We’ll find you something.” I took a sip of my beer. A second later, the first two bars of You Are My Sunshine floated toward the porch on a breeze.
And just like that, the hair on my arms stood and my heart lodged in my mouth.
Oblivious, Luke smiled at me over the lip of his beer, and I tried my best to return it. Even so, I withdrew my hand from Luke’s as the whistling got closer.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
I didn’t know what to say. And I didn’t have a lot of time to figure it out. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the door swung opon, revealing Jonas’s outrageously handsome face illuminated in the candlelight.
My heart did a back flip.
Jonas said nothing at first, taking in the candle and the beer. He frowned, and I wondered whether he was having a flashback to the nights we’d spent in this very spot. “Evening, Kira.”
“Hi,” I squeaked. “You were looking for me?”
He stepped all the way onto the porch and eased the door shut behind him. “Yeah, Adam said you were out. There aren’t that many places to look.”
“You went to my house?”
“Easy.” Jonas gave me a sad smile. “Adam was out on the front steps, smoking. I didn’t have to knock.”
“He was smoking?” I gasped. Adam had quit ages ago. What was that about?
“Hey,” Luke cut in. “Have we met before?” My glance cut over to my ex-boyfriend, who looked unhappy about
the intrusion. “You look familiar.”
“People say that all the time,” Jonas muttered without so much as a glance in Luke’s direction. “Kira? I was hoping to hear from you tonight. Can we talk?”
“This is a private party,” Luke said in a curt tone of voice.
Jonas chuckled. “Sorry, man, but I’ve only got fourteen hours to visit with Kira and my little girl.”
Luke stiffened. He jerked his thumb at Jonas, but kept his eyes on me. “Kira, if you’re keeping it a secret, this asshole didn’t get the memo.”
“Easy, Luke.” I sighed.
“Nah. You want me to be nice to him?” Luke turned a glare on Jonas. “He disappears for five years, and now he wants your time?”
I tensed, but Jonas didn’t look the least bit worried by this show of rudeness. “Yeah, that’s exactly the kind of asshole I am. You’ve got me pegged. And, by the way, you’re in my seat. Kira put that chair here for me.”
“No way.” Luke’s jaw went dangerously tight. “How about you fuck off now right back to wherever you came from?”
That’s when Jonas finally dropped his smile. “How about you take your own advice. Are you the one who called Kira a slut? Or do I have that wrong?”
Luke flushed with anger. “You have a lot of nerve.”
“Really? Just answer the question. Did you say that to her face?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I think it is.”
And now my heart was in my throat for all new reasons. Was I about to witness a fight between my ex-boyfriend and my daughter’s father?
The Nest Lake crime blotter might get a heck of a lot more interesting in a hurry.
Luke’s eyes darted from me to Jonas and back to me again. Then he let out a disgusted sigh and said to me, “Look, honey, I can see that you have a lot on your plate this weekend. So I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” I said quickly.
He pushed back his chair, which made an awful squeak on the floorboards. Then, without a glance at Jonas, Luke turned and ducked out the door.
Lies and Lullabies Page 11
