A Million Little Lies

by Bette Lee Crosby

  ——————

  ONCE SUZANNA’S FEAR OF EXPOSURE was quelled, her confidence began to build. It was a feeling not unlike that she’d had back when she was Bobby’s girl. Her step became surer, her back straighter, and her head held just a tad higher. She was no longer the kid with a drunk daddy or the dropout who was pregnant. She was now somebody other people admired and wanted to be. Ida bragged to the neighbors about how Darla Jean was the featured model in this year’s fashion show, Gregg seemed more attentive than ever, and Ginger flat out said she was envious.

  It happened the day Suzanna drove Ida and Annie over to Barston to see Ginger’s new baby, a girl they’d named Elizabeth and were calling Lizzie. Ginger, looking exhausted and still in her bathrobe, handed the crying baby to Suzanna and dropped down on the sofa.

  “Lizzie’s been fussy ever since Mama left, and I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since we came home from the hospital.”

  Suzanna lifted the baby to her shoulder, cradling the tiny head in her hand and swaying from side to side. “Annie was fussy for the first week, but before she was a month old she’d started sleeping through the night.”

  “Figures,” Ginger said with an air of discouragement. “Everything comes easy to you.”

  Suzanna laughed. “It only seems that way. Nothing could be further from the truth.” Before she could say anything more, she spotted the tears welling in Ginger’s eyes. Handing the baby off to Ida, she crossed the room, sat next to Ginger, and wrapped her in a hug.

  “I know life seems overwhelming right now,” she said, “but all this is only temporary. Lizzie’s adjusting to her new life, just like you are. In a few weeks, you’ll see things differently.”

  Ginger sniffed back a sob. “I’m not you, Darla Jean. I’m never gonna have the chance to do what you’re doing. I’ll be changing diapers while you’re—”

  “Be glad you’re not me,” Suzanna said, cutting in. Without stopping to measure her words or weed out those that might draw a finger of suspicion, she continued on. “My life was one I can’t even talk about. For years I envied women like you, women with a loving husband, a home, and a daddy for their child.”

  “I’m sure you could’ve had those things if you wanted—”

  “Not as easily as you might think, but I didn’t care because I had something far more precious: Annie. Working for Colette doesn’t make anyone a better or more important person, but the money I earn enables me to give Annie a better life than I had.”

  Ginger sat there, her eyes wide and her face solemn. As a heavy silence crept across the room, Ida gave Annie a nod and suggested they get a glass of milk from the kitchen.

  “I’m not thirsty,” Annie said.

  “Yes, you are,” Ida replied and gave her a nudge.

  When the two women were alone in the room, Suzanna took Ginger’s hand in hers and held onto it. “Instead of focusing on what you’re going through right now, try counting your blessings. Lizzie is a beautiful baby, and she’s the one you should be thinking of. Jobs, glory, friends, even lovers can be gone in the blink of an eye, but Lizzie is yours forever. There’s a special bond between mother and child, one that’s stronger than you might ever dream possible.”

  Suzanna hesitated as a single thought passed through her mind; then she spoke again.

  “If I had to choose between Annie and this job, I’d choose Annie a thousand times over. The job is only a means to an end, but Annie, well, she’s a lifetime of love stretched out in front of me.”

  She hugged Ginger to her chest, and the sniffles subsided.

  “Once you’re feeling a bit better, you’ll see,” she said. “You’re going to feel the same way about Lizzie.”

  “I already do,” Ginger said and gave a sheepish grin.

  Suzanna stood. “It’s late, and we should get going.”

  As they started toward the kitchen Ginger blurted out another question, one that apparently had been on her mind for a while.

  “What happened between you and the guy who was Annie’s daddy?”

  “That’s something I prefer not to talk about,” Suzanna said and kept walking.

  ——————

  THAT EVENING AFTER SUZANNA LISTENED to Annie’s prayers and tucked the blanket around her shoulders, she leaned over for a goodnight kiss.

  “Mama, should Aunt Ginger be glad she’s not you, because you got me?”

  Suzanna felt as though a bowling ball had been dropped into her stomach.

  “Lord God, no, Annie. Why, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re what gives me a reason to live, a reason to be happy.”

  “Then why should she be happy to not be you?”

  Suzanna gave a long and heavily weighted sigh, then sat on the side of the bed and trailed her fingers along the curve of Annie’s shoulder. She thought, given the number of years that had gone by, she might have forgotten about that life, but she hadn’t. It was right there, as ugly and raw as it had been the day she last saw him.

  “It happened a long time ago, Annie, before you were born…” Suzanna spoke slowly, trying to gauge how much she should or shouldn’t tell an impressionable seven-year-old. “My daddy was a terrible person. He drank too much whiskey, was meaner than Earl, and—”

  “Was he my daddy too?”

  Suzanna smiled and shook her head. “No, he wasn’t your daddy. He would have been your grandpa, except…” She paused a moment, realizing that Annie’s life had been hard enough. She didn’t need to know the whole truth. “Except I ran away from home and never saw him again.”

  “That’s okay, Mama.” Annie reached across and placed a small hand on Suzanna’s arm. “We still got Grandpa Bill. He loves us and is watching over us all the time.”

  The corner of Suzanna’s mouth curled. “Really?”

  Annie nodded. “We can’t see him because he’s dead, but he can still watch over us.” With barely a breath in between, she then asked if her daddy was dead too.

  “I doubt it, but I don’t know for sure. As I’ve told you, baby, he left before you were born, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

  “Oh. I was hoping maybe he was dead.”

  “Why on earth would you hope he was dead?”

  “Because then I could get a new daddy.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Nobody. I figured it out. My friend Debbi said her first daddy got dead in a car accident, and then she got a new one.”

  “Debbi Hicks, the little girl you walk to school with?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Her mother married Albert Hicks, that’s why Debbi has—”

  “You could marry Mr. Gregg. Grandma said he’d make a fine daddy.”

  Suzanna gave an exasperated huff. “Annie, why’d you go badgering Grandma about this after I’d told you to forget about having Gregg for a daddy?”

  “I wasn’t the one. Grandma said it first.”

  “She did, did she? Well, then, I’ll have to have a talk with Grandma and—”

  “No, Mama,” Annie pleaded. “Don’t talk to Grandma. If she finds out I told, she’ll be mad and it will spoil everything.”

  Suzanna couldn’t imagine Ida being angry with Annie over anything, but she didn’t give in. “Okay, if you don’t want me to have a talk with Grandma, then you’ve got to promise me something in return.”

  Annie nodded. “Okay.”

  “Promise me you will forget trying to make Gregg Patterson your daddy. That you will not mention it again, and you will not discuss it with Grandma or anyone else. Most of all Gregg.”

  “Ever?”

  Suzanna gave a stern-faced nod. “Ever.”

  “But what if—”

  “Never. Not under any circumstances.”

  “Okay,” Annie said reluctantly.

  Suzanna bent and kissed her forehead. “Now close your eyes and go to sleep. Forget we ever had this discussion.”

  Just as Suzanna was about to snap off the light, she
heard a small voice.

  “If I forget this discussion, I might forget the promise too.”

  “You’d better not,” she warned and closed the door.

  Suzanna

  The Fashion Show

  ON THE DAY OF THE fashion show, Suzanna was awake before dawn. The fear of discovery she’d felt weeks earlier was gone; it had been replaced by a nervousness that caused her heart to flutter when she allowed herself to think of the disasters that might happen.

  For weeks Colette had instructed her on how to walk with her head tilted at a lofty angle, how to turn without ever breaking stride, and how to smile as though she were the Mona Lisa. But last night during the country club run-through with all three models, she was the only one who’d made a mistake. On the second turn, she’d gone wide and bumped into a table. Then she missed her cue to open the suit jacket and show the lining.

  Colette had glared at her and in a voice reeking of frustration shouted, “Mon dieu, have you also forgotten how to smile?”

  At the time Suzanna had been so focused on the movement cues that she had indeed forgotten to smile.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled and fixed her mouth in the look they’d practiced.

  After a lifetime of trying to go unnoticed, stepping out into the limelight was more than intimidating. It was downright frightening.

  She’d originally agreed to do it because of the extra money, but now she was certain that had been a gigantic mistake. With the way things were shaping up, she’d be happy to just get through the day without looking like a clumsy ox or making a blunder so outrageous that she’d lose her job. Last night Colette seemed genuinely displeased with the run-through. She’d left without saying good night, good luck, or anything. Today Suzanna would have to do better. Much better.

  When she climbed from the bed, the sky was still dark and the house as silent as a stone. With her feet bare and her thin nightshirt replacing the elegant gowns and suits, she began walking back and forth across the room, making the turn as gracefully as any model who’d ever strolled a Paris runway. As she circled the chair and passed by the dresser, she envisioned the huge dining room at the country club. She focused her thoughts on the placement of each table and the designated pathway that ran through the center of the room and could see herself moving past the tables, returning to the back room, and then changing into another outfit.

  In time the nightshirt became a chiffon gown, and she extended her arm with her fingers lengthened to trail the gauzy wrap that would cover her shoulders. When she imagined herself in the green suit, she went through the motion of opening the jacket and tilting her head downward to draw attention to the paisley lining. That run-though was perfect. She’d remembered every single move and turned without a flicker of hesitation. Now she was ready; truly ready. Nothing would or could go wrong.

  The pale light of morning was on the edge of the horizon when Suzanna pulled on her jeans and hurried downstairs. The fashion show luncheon would start at 12 noon, but she had to be at the country club by 9 a.m. A beautician would be there to do the models’ hair and makeup. Colette had gone to great lengths to make sure the show was something that would be talked about for weeks to come, and several times she’d made a point of saying the success of their season depended on it. Hearing the urgency in Colette’s voice, Suzanna had twice asked if she would prefer to have a third model replace her. Colette wouldn’t hear of it.

  “You’re perfect for this,” she’d said. “You know how to show clothes to their best advantage, and when clients see a familiar face they find it easier to envision themselves wearing that same outfit.” She’d gone on to say she expected this show to be her biggest and best ever.

  When Suzanna entered the kitchen, Ida smiled.

  “Well, today’s your big day,” she said. She poured a cup of coffee, motioned for Suzanna to sit, then pulled a frying pan from the cupboard. “Eggs or pancakes?”

  “No breakfast for me. I’m much too nervous to eat.”

  “Nonsense. It’s going to be a long day. You’ve got to eat something so you don’t pass out from hunger while you’re on stage.”

  Suzanna laughed. “Don’t worry. If I pass out it will be from fright, not the lack of food.”

  Ida came around and hugged her shoulders. “Darla Jean, you worry far too much. You’ll do a wonderful job, I’m certain of it. Just relax, be yourself, and remember to smile.”

  That’s when it dawned on Suzanna. Remembering to smile was the one thing she’d forgotten to do in this morning’s run-though. Smile. When she added that thought to the others already in her head, the burden seemed as heavy as a sack of stones dropped onto her shoulders.

  ——————

  COLETTE WAS PACING BACK AND forth in front of the building when Suzanna arrived at the country club. She pulled into the parking lot and barely had one foot out of the car before Colette came running over with a frenzied look in her eyes.

  “Dieu merci! Prayers are answered. I was praying you would arrive early. Danielle is in the hospital, so you will have to—”

  “Hospital? What happened?”

  “Automobile accident. Terrible.” She held a manicured hand to her temple and shuddered. “Truly terrible, but we will talk of that later. Right now, you need to get ready to cover two of her outfits.”

  As Suzanna stood there with her mouth open, Colette described the two outfits she would add to the three she was already scheduled to model.

  “I can’t possibly,” Suzanna said with a gasp. “Danielle’s trouser and jacket outfit opens the show and comes right before my green suit. There isn’t time enough to change.”

  “Yes, yes, you’ll have to move quickly, but the stylist will have everything at the ready so you can simply step out of one ensemble into the next.”

  “But there are specific moves for that outfit. After the first turn, Danielle takes the blazer off and carries it across her shoulder. I haven’t practiced that. Can’t Elise—”

  “No. The trousers are too long for her. It has to be you.”

  Suzanna felt her stomach clench. The piece of toast she’d eaten now seemed like a chunk of cement lodged in her chest. She’d thought she was prepared, that nothing could go wrong. She practiced every move, memorized the turns step by step. Now here she was, facing a whole new set of challenges; challenges she was not at all prepared for.

  “Elise has so much more experience. She’d be better at—”

  “You have the right instincts, you’ll do fine.” Colette took hold of her arm and started toward the clubhouse. “I’ve switched the order of appearance, so the only rushed change you’ll have is the green suit. After that Elise will…”

  As Colette’s voice droned on saying how she would open the show with the trouser outfit and close it with the chiffon gown, Suzanna could almost see herself dropping the blazer that Danielle had so gracefully draped over one finger.

  At one o’clock the clinking of silverware and the rattle of dishes being carried to and from the dining room stilled, and Colette walked to the podium with a newly-ordered presentation list of fashions. Standing just inside the entranceway, Suzanna waited, listening for her first cue. With her hair done and traces of glitter dusting her cheeks, she had never looked more beautiful nor felt more insecure.

  Early on she’d flubbed a few moves, but she’d worked on them, ironed out the problems, and felt reasonably confident. That was until Colette changed everything. Now the sequence was different, and on the first two outfits she had to alter the rehearsed route and take a shortcut back to the dressing room because of the quick change.

  Desperately trying to still the thump of her heart as she stood there listening, Suzanna missed the first cue when Colette mentioned a stylish wool pant paired with a classic cashmere blazer that could be worn throughout most of the year.

  Glancing toward the entranceway, Colette gave a dramatic wave of her arm, brought her voice up an octave, and announced, “And now, to open today’s fashion extravaganza
, our very own Darla Jean Parker.”

  The mention of her name quickly roused Suzanna, and when she stepped from behind the partition the audience offered a polite round of applause. As she crossed the floor, her steps were tentative and her expression apprehensive. She turned on cue, slid the blazer off, and casually tossed it over her shoulder. It wasn’t the same one-fingered dangle Danielle used, but the jacket didn’t land on the floor. Her movements were reasonably close to the mark, but instead of smiling, her brows were knotted and she looked as though she might pass out any second.

  When she began to circle the room, she spotted the table two rows in.

  Nine people were crowded together: Ida, several of her friends, Gregg, Phil, Ginger, and, right there in front, Annie with a grin that stretched the full width of her face. She jumped up, started waving, and in a little girl voice that pierced the hush of silence, squealed, “Mama, you look soooo beautiful!”

  A ripple of laughter rolled across the room, followed by a round of enthusiastic applause, and Suzanna’s look of apprehension dissolved into a smile. Not the stiff Mona Lisa smile she’d practiced but a soft curl of her lips that came without thought.

  As she strolled past the tables, she saw a host of familiar faces, people who returned her smile and gave a wink or a nod of recognition. They were townspeople. Clients. Silver-haired ladies with teen-aged granddaughters; wives with husbands. Mothers and daughters. It was exactly as Ida had said.

  Suddenly Suzanna realized there was no need for fear or pretense. They didn’t expect her to be anybody other than the person she’d become. They liked Darla Jean Parker exactly as she was.

  When Suzanna stepped behind the partition, the stylist and her assistant were standing by with everything ready to go. Buttons were opened, zippers zipped, and in the blink of an eye the change she’d feared would be cumbersome was over. As the stylist smoothed the back of the jacket, Suzanna heard Colette at the microphone.