I’m so tired of lies. So tired of smiling and pretending and keeping the peace.
Darla’s voice comes to me like a combination of devil and angel on my shoulder.
“Tell the truth. Blow everything up. Sometimes what’s left after the chaos is better.”
“I don’t have the money to pay you back,” I blurt. “Not all of it, anyway.” The number in my savings account is large for me but pathetically small in light of what I owe him. Medical care paired with a mortgage is not cheap. “I won’t for a while.”
Shawn turns to me, his face sad. “You’re not taking the trust money?”
The trust. Ha. What a funny word to use for that. So much trust Shawn put in his father doing something—anything—for the other kid he sired.
Now I’m going to stomp on my sweet brother’s rosy glasses.
You could lie, a panicked voice whispers in my mind.Tell him you’re too proud to take it. He’d understand that. He knows you and Karl don’t get along. He wouldn’t be mad at you, and he could go on loving his dad without knowing the toxic nature of the man.
The option is tempting.
But as I stare into Shawn’s open face, I think back on how he gazed at Darla with adoration.
“You’re so honest. I love it,”he’d said, like it was the highest compliment he could pay.
If the truth is what Shawn wants, then I’ll give it to him. I owe him that much, at least.
“There is no trust fund for me. There never was.”
He blinks. Once. Twice. Then shakes his head. “What?”
“I lied.” I stare at my plaster-covered hands, the white dust caking in the lines of my palms. “About being able to pay you back with the trust money. We had too many bills, and I panicked, and I needed you to give me a loan. You agreed so easily. Because you believed I’d have plenty of cash eventually. Because I told you I would.” Because I deceived you. Just like everyone else who wanted your money. “But I don’t. I’ve got three thousand in my account, and I’ll write you a check for that. Well, for two thousand nine hundred, because I think I need to keep at least one hundred in the bank account so it doesn’t close. And then we can work out payments. I can do those electronically, so you don’t have to see me again.” My eyes are itchy, and I realize it’s because tears are leaking out of them at a surprisingly fast rate. My hands are too dirty for me to wipe them away, so I have to let them overflow and fall.
“Wait. Hell, just wait a second, Beth.” Shawn digs his fingers into his hair, the move aggressive with his agitation. “Slow down. Back to the beginning.”
“I lied to you—”
“Not that. You don’t have a trust?” He turns disbelieving eyes on me, the beginning of hurt showing in the depths.
This is what I’ve been avoiding the last few years. Causing my brother true pain.
I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my worn jeans and bow my shoulders, trying to make myself smaller. “No. There’s no trust fund.”
“But Dad would’ve…” He shakes his head. “You’re his daughter.”
A bleak snort sneaks out before I can swallow back the sound. After a centering breath, I try to be gentle as I unravel the image my brother has of our father.
“I don’t know what Karl has said about me to you over the years, but I do know that he has never wanted me as a daughter. He has never acknowledged me in any way. Never given me or my mom any money—not that she asked for it. Mom is too proud for that. And I don’t have a trust fund. Like I said. I lied to you. And I’m sorry, Shawn. I’m so sorry. You deserve better than that. You have always been loving and completely open and generous with me. And I took advantage of you. Took your money. My only excuse is that I was scared. Scared of losing Mom. Then later, when I thought about telling you the truth, I was scared of losing you.”
Shawn starts pacing the small confines of the room, his steps leaving footprints in the plaster dust.
“He’s never given you anything?”
I shake my head.
“Do you…do you ever talk? To him?”
“Not intentionally. I ran into him in the parking garage of your building the morning after our last book club. Saw him at the wedding reception.”
“The wedding,” he growls. “Damn it. Ipushedyou to go to that.”
“I wanted to go.” Not so much at first maybe, but I changed my mind. And ninety percent of the night was good. Just that last bit sucked.
