A Million Little Lies

by Bette Lee Crosby

  “Gregg,” she called. Waving her arm, she hurried toward him.

  “Darla Jean? What are you doing here?”

  Suzanna caught the sound of surprise in his voice, but it was impossible to know whether or not he was glad to see her.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. “I was hoping we could talk. Maybe go someplace, have coffee…”

  The sky was darker now and the lot growing shadowy, but she saw him grimace.

  “I don’t think going for coffee is a good idea, Darla Jean. If you’ve something to say, we can talk here.”

  His words were like a slap in the face, one she probably deserved but didn’t expect. In a desperate attempt to pull her thoughts together, she lowered her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. Truly sorry. I would give anything if we could go back in time and relive that evening, do it over with a different ending, but that’s impossible. The only thing I can do now is explain why I acted as I did.”

  He dipped his chin ever so slightly, an indication for her to continue.

  She started by saying she was not actually Ida’s granddaughter, then went on to explain how such a lie had come about. “I never meant any harm. I thought Annie and I would stay a day and then be on our way, but that wasn’t what happened.”

  “Does Ida know this?” he asked.

  Suzanna nodded. “She does now.”

  She went on to tell how after almost eight years, Annie’s father had found her and wanted to get back together again.

  “I saw him a few times then realized he was nothing more than a memory I’d foolishly held onto. I never loved him the way I love you, but at the moment I thought it might be the best for Annie. He knew the truth of who I was, and it meant there’d be no more lying.” She gave a weighted sigh, one drawn up from the very depth of her soul. “Living a life of lies is a very difficult thing; you’re constantly looking over your shoulder, and you go from one day to the next wondering who’s around the corner and when the truth will catch up to you.”

  “So you lied about everything?”

  “Not everything.” She hesitated a moment, waited until his eyes met hers, then spoke. “I never lied about loving you. That was true then, and it’s true now.”

  He turned his head, looked away and said nothing.

  Suzanna had come this far, and she wasn’t ready to give up now. She inched closer and touched his arm. “I’m hoping that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  “I wish it were that easy,” he said and brushed her hand away. “But it’s not. That night you had a choice to make, but instead of believing in our future you chose to take a chance on the past—a past that didn’t include me. I was devastated, Darla Jean.” His voice grew colder, more distant, and he asked, “Or should I call you Suzanna?”

  She heard the underlying bitterness in his words but tried to move past it. “Grandma Ida suggested I might use the name Darla Sue. She saw it as a blending of the two. How would you feel about something like that?”

  He gave a shrug and stood there looking like a man who was bone tired. “This name or that, I guess it really doesn’t matter. If you’d been honest with me that night, we might’ve worked things out together, but you didn’t trust me then and I’m not certain I can trust you now.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and dangled them from his finger. “Having a child together is a tie that binds a man and woman together forever. He’ll always be Annie’s dad, and I’ll always be wondering if and when you might decide to go back to him.”

  He leaned forward and unlocked the car door. “I wish I could be more understanding, but after all that’s happened, I’m not certain we can ever find our way back to where we were.” He opened the door then turned back. “I need time to think about it, Darla Jean. I need time to decide whether our relationship is worth saving.”

  As she watched him climb into the car and drive off, the tears she’d been holding back started.

  “It is worth saving,” she whispered tearfully. “It really is.”

  ——————

  THURSDAY NIGHT SUZANNA DID NOT sleep a wink. She lay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering if she’d said too much or too little. Over and over again she asked herself what else she might have said, but she could think of nothing. She’d told him the truth about everything, but maybe the truth was more than he wanted to hear. Time to think, he’d said, but he’d promised nothing. He’d driven off without a single glance back. Almost as if she were someone he’d already forgotten.

  When Suzanna crawled out of bed Friday morning, her eyes were bloodshot and her nose puffy and red as a tomato.

  “It’s nothing,” she told Ida. “A slight cold, maybe.”

  “Well, you look terrible. Go back to bed. I’ll call Colette and explain that you’re sick.”

  “No,” she said. “I’ve already missed too many days.”

  Suzanna knew endless hours of lying in bed was the last thing she needed. She had to stay busy, concentrate on something other than Gregg.

  She arrived at the shop moments before a thunderstorm rolled through and brought drenching rains. The weatherman had predicted it, saying it was a rapidly-moving cold front and he’d promised that by noon the skies would clear, but such was not the case. The rain continued throughout the morning and well into the afternoon without any sign of stopping. By three o’clock, only two people had come into the shop. The first was a sales rep looking to speak with Colette; the second was Misty Williams who plucked a simple black skirt from the rack and carried it to the register.

  “Don’t you want to try it on?” Suzanne asked. “I’m not busy and if it needs alterations, I’d be happy to—”

  “No, thanks,” Misty said. “It’s my size, and I know it will fit.”

  After Misty left, Suzanna stood at the shop window and watched the rain. She felt sadder than she’d ever felt in her entire life. Sadder than when Bobby had passed her by in the school hallway; sadder than when her daddy called her a whore and threw her out; sadder perhaps than the day she’d watched them lower her mama’s casket into the ground. Back then she’d been ten years old, too young to realize how long forever was when you’ve lost someone you love.

  That evening after a dinner that Suzanna barely picked at, she sat on the floor of the living room helping Annie piece together a jigsaw puzzle, but her thoughts were a million miles away. After two hours, all they had done was the top corner.

  “Maybe we ought to wait until Mr. Gregg comes back,” Annie said. “He’s much better at this than you are.”

  The problem was Suzanna didn’t know if Gregg was ever coming back, but she didn’t have the heart to tell Annie.

  “Nonsense,” she said. “We can do it ourselves.” She picked up a piece of the puzzle then sat there holding it in her hand.

  On Saturday, Suzanna arrived at the shop fearful that it might be another day of standing idly by, but before she’d hung her coat in the closet customers crowded the shop. The rush continued all morning, and it was early afternoon before anyone had time to eat. At three-thirty Colette ran down to the coffee shop and came back with sandwiches. Suzanna was two bites into hers when Misty Williams came in.

  “I tried the skirt on at home,” Misty said. “It’s a tad too big, so if you don’t mind I’d like to take you up on your offer to alter it.”

  Suzanna forced a smile. “No problem, I’d be happy to.” She slid the uneaten sandwich into the cubby beneath the counter and followed Misty back to the fitting room.

  At six o’clock, when the store closed, Suzanna still had to write up Misty’s alteration ticket and two orders that were to be shipped.

  “Go ahead and go,” she told Colette. “I’ll lock up.”

  In no particular hurry to leave, she finished up the paperwork, then basted the tucks in Misty’s skirt. It was nearing seven-thirty when she finally snapped off the light and left the store. The sky had turned dark, and there were only a few cars in the parking area. She pulled the key from her p
ocket and hurried across the lot. She hadn’t seen him standing in the shadows, so the voice startled her.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.

  She turned and her heart quickened. “Gregg!”

  He took a step forward. “I’ve given this a lot of thought, Darla Jean, and I’ve decided our relationship does deserve a second chance. My life has been far more meaningful with you and Annie in it than it’s ever been before.”

  “Gregg, I—”

  “Wait,” he said and held up his hand. “Hear me out.” He swallowed hard, then continued. “I’m normally not a risk-taker and I know there will always be the possibility that Annie’s dad will try to push his way back into our life, but I’m willing to take that chance. I love you with all my heart, Darla Jean, and I believe in us. It won’t always be easy, but I believe we can be a family that’s strong enough to weather any storm. I may not be Annie’s only daddy, but I can promise you I’ll be her best daddy.”

  The tears Suzanna had been holding back overflowed her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  “You already are,” she whispered tearfully.

  He held out his arms, and she moved into them.

  “I love you too,” she whispered. “More than words can say and way more than you probably realize.”

  He tilted her face to his and kissed her mouth. It was long and tender; the kind of kiss Suzanna had never before known. As they stood there in the dimly-lit parking lot, his hand strong against her back, their heartbeats mingling together and sounding as one, Suzanna saw forever. She saw them growing old together, sitting on the front porch of Ida’s house with Annie and a cluster of grandchildren gathered around, and she knew at long last she had found the place her heart could call home.

  Two weeks later, Gregg and Suzanna went to Alberto’s for dinner. As they walked in, Gregg gave the hostess a nod and she led them back to the same booth they’d sat in the last time. A bottle of wine and two glasses were waiting on the table.

  As Suzanna slid into the booth, he leaned close and touched his hand to her shoulder.

  “Life doesn’t give us a lot of chances for a do-over,” he whispered, “so let’s make this one count.”

  He poured the wine then lifted his glass. “A toast. To second chances.”

  Suzanna smiled happily.

  “I’ll drink to that,” she said and did.

  After dinner, he pulled a small box from his pocket, thumbed it open, and held it out.

  “Darla Sue,” he said, giving her new name the sound of familiarity, “you’d make me the happiest man in the world if you’d agree to be my wife.”

  “There’s nothing I want more,” she said. “Absolutely, positively, nothing!”

  He lifted her hand into his, kissed her knuckles, and then slid a diamond engagement ring on her finger.

  ——————

  EARLIER THAT DAY, EARL FAGAN was released from the Glades State Prison Farm. He’d spent the last four months thinking things over, and he knew exactly what he was going to do.

  Earl

  Finding Bobby Doherty

  FOR FOUR MONTHS EARL SAT in a concrete cell thinking of Suzanna Duff. At night when the cell block was quiet and there was nothing to do but think, he’d wonder about the foolishness of pursuing her as he’d done. Twice he almost convinced himself that she wasn’t worth the agony he’d gone through, but both times such a thought was lost when he remembered how it felt to hold her in his arms and breathe in the aroma of her strawberry-scented shampoo. He pictured her as she was in the early days, her breasts full, her stomach soft as a feather pillow. Back then, she was easier to get along with—more teddy bear and less mama bear—but she’d changed and he hadn’t.

  Now it would be different; he’d make himself into the man she wanted. A woman like Suzanna was worth it. He thought of how he’d explain the hardships he’d endured to find her and imagined the smile that would settle on her face. He’d hand her a bouquet of flowers, hold out a toy for Annie, then say he was a changed man and swear nine ways from Sunday that this time he’d absolutely, positively given up drinking.

  On the day he was released, Earl was ready with a plan. His first call was to Jack Maloney at the bar. He explained the situation, then said he was stuck in the middle of nowhere and needed money to ransom his car from the impound lot.

  “How much?” Maloney asked.

  “A hundred and forty bucks.”

  “Whew.” Maloney blew the word into a whistle. “That’s a chunk of change.”

  “Yeah, but you gotta know I’m good for it.”

  “How would I know that? You haven’t worked in months.”

  “I got a few bucks saved but can’t get it until the bank opens Monday. I’ll pay you back then.”

  “Fine, if you’ve actually got the money, but how do I know for sure you do?”

  Earl was starting to sweat. He had to get the car. Without it, his plan was shot to hell.

  “Okay then, how about this? When you bring me the cash, I give you a note saying if I don’t pay up, you take my house. That sound good?”

  When Maloney hesitated, Earl started to panic.

  “Don’t tell me you got a problem with that too,” he said. “You done seen the house, you know I got it.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “That house’s worth at least three grand, maybe four.”

  Maloney finally agreed to the loan, and Earl breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’ll be waiting in the coffee shop,” he said.

  When Maloney got there, he slid into the opposite side of the booth and shoved a piece of paper across the table.

  Earl eyed him suspiciously. “What’s this?”

  “An agreement. Before I hand over the money, you gotta sign it.”

  Earl read through the two typewritten paragraphs and frowned.

  “It’s more than fair,” Maloney said. “I’m not charging you for driving way out here, and I gave you a full month to pay me back.”

  “I don’t need no month. You’ll get your money Monday when the bank opens.”

  “You’ve still gotta sign it. As soon as you pay what you owe, you’ll get this back and we can call it square.”

  Earl begrudgingly signed the paper. Maloney pulled an envelope from his pocket and passed it across the table. “There’s one-fifty here. I gave you an extra ten to get you through the weekend.”

  “Thanks,” Earl said and gave a nod.

  That afternoon he paid the towing and storage fees, got his car, and headed home.

  He picked up a road map on the way, and that evening he sat at the kitchen table figuring how far it was to Atlanta. Over 600 miles; more than he’d thought. With a better car, he could make it in a day, but the Ford was 14 years old and when he pushed it past 45MPH it overheated. He thought about the problem for a while, then pulled out the bottle of Seagram’s hidden beneath the sink and poured himself a drink. He’d planned to give up drinking, but it seemed foolish to let a perfectly good bottle of whiskey go to waste.

  That drink led to a few more, and by the time he crawled into bed he’d decided to bring some traveling money. This road trip would be his last hurrah before he was forced into a life of abstention, so he needed to make the most of it. Once Suzanna was back, he’d be walking the straight and narrow.

  On Monday morning, Earl was standing at the door of the bank when it opened. Once inside, he went straight to the teller’s window and told Jeanine MacDonald he’d like to withdraw the $426.37 he had in his savings account.

  “If you keep a dollar in your account, we can leave it open,” she suggested.

  Earl shook his head. “Nah, I might be needing it.”

  He’d earmarked $150 of the money for Maloney but his bar didn’t open until noon, and waiting around was a waste of his time. He tucked the money in his pocket, figuring he’d hold onto it and pay Maloney when he got back. He had a month; he’d be back long before then.

  He took the side roads across, pi
cked up Route 75, and followed the northbound signs. Long about lunchtime, he stopped for a hot dog and two beers, then got back on the highway and kept going. He stopped twice more, once for another beer, then to buy gas and use the restroom. Once he was in Georgia, Valdosta seemed as good a place as any to spend the night.

  A few miles outside of town, he found a road house that looked promising. The parking lot was jam packed with cars, and you could hear the music a block away. He pulled in, spied an empty spot on the far edge of the lot, and parked. Inside the patrons were standing three-deep at the bar.

  He edged up alongside a full-figured blonde and asked, “How’s a fella supposed to get a drink around here?”

  She turned and smiled. “It helps if you know the bartender.” She gave a wolf whistle and yelled, “Hey, Arnie, this guy needs a drink.”

  Earl ordered a whiskey, then asked if he could buy her one.

  “Sure.” She hollered for Arnie again and said, “Make that two.”

  They stood there talking; she said her name was Iris and that she’d lived in Valdosta for most of her life. He said he was traveling through on his way to Atlanta but didn’t mention why. When the crowd thinned, they grabbed a spot at the bar and ordered another round. Iris had a nice face, but in the light Earl could see the crow’s feet framing her eyes and the lines etched across her forehead. From the back he’d guessed her to be Suzanna’s age, but up close he could tell she was closer to his own.

  They danced a number of times. When she suggested they grab a booth and order dinner, Earl agreed. He didn’t expect much more than maybe a free feel and a few laughs, but when he slid into the booth she slid in alongside of him and pressed her thigh up against his.

  “This is cozier than sitting across from one another, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Earl said. “Definitely.”

  He’d planned to stay in a cheap motel over by the highway, but when the evening ended he went home with Iris. By then he was too drunk to do much other than fall asleep, but Iris didn’t seem to mind.