Pretty Little Lies (Lie #2) (2 page)

Saturday, February 14, 2014

Ethan

The last thing I wanted to do was go home for my dad’s birthday. Lying in my childhood bed, all I could see was Dylan’s beautiful face when I told her about Devon. The way she kissed me standing in that very room after talking to Charlie. My last truly happy day. I’d understood when she’d said she felt whole with me, because she took a huge chunk out of me, and I would never be the same again.

I couldn’t take another moment of remembering. I headed to the kitchen hoping to grab a few cups of coffee before my whole family emptied out in the living room. Brandon was even coming in. I couldn’t help but be a little thankful, he had to work and wouldn’t get there until late that afternoon. He was bringing his mom, too. She had used Jamie’s death to weasel into every aspect of my dad’s life. I’d only met the bitch he called mom a handful of times. After each encounter, it was clear why Jamie was such a shithead. I gave her one thing. She had to be a great piece of ass for dad to keep tapping that all those years. I think that was how I could always tolerate those two, because they didn’t have all the warm kisses, bedtime stories, and early morning cuddles I had. My mom tried to show them love when they came to dad’s, but it only showed them more what a bum deal they got in the first place.

Neal was already up and in the kitchen. He was gathering the items out of the fridge to make our usual Saturday breakfast. Neal was never one to be domestic, but he went overboard when he had all his kids together. His number one rule in life was family. I think that was why his kids had always been so close despite the twenty-eight year gap between the oldest and youngest. And the four different moms. Charlie came first, then four years later everyone’s favorite, Kristina. They were the children from dad’s first and only other marriage to Rebecca. She had a brain aneurysm when Kristina was five years old and Charlie was nine. Neal did the best he could to raise them alone and carry on business as usual. But that was a job too big for most men. That was how Peggy came into the mix. I don’t believe she was ever a woman that sent dad’s heart on fire. In fact, I know she didn’t. But she was a great mom to Charlie and Kristina. Quickly after moving in with them, she added Lydia to the family. The ten years they lived together, dad was a great father but a horrible man to Peggy. Peggy finally gave up on dad and moved out. The following eight years, he managed to bring Brandon and Jamie into the group by a bitch who didn’t mind doing his dirty work.

Dad played the ultimate playboy except for every other weekend when all the kids came home. That was until Lydia came home one weekend with mom. Dad often told me he didn’t know what mom did to him. But when she touched his face to remind him to look at her when he spoke, he was never the same again. She got sick that first weekend. She stayed in and helped dad with a two year old Brandon as the older kids, including Lydia, went out to party. No one knew that Dad and Helen hooked up that weekend for the first time, and continued that affair for another two months. I could only imagine their shock when Lydia walked into her apartment at college and saw her dad’s bare ass in the air with her naked roommate underneath him. A month later, I was on the way and a marriage was being planned as the playboy Neal was forever replaced with the whooped Neal. I always thought he was a horny old man that got lucky with a cute piece of ass. But after Dylan wandered into my life, I understood that instant connection, and there was no doubt my dad worshiped my mom. I often wished I could’ve met the playboy Neal, he sounded fun. But no, I got the Neal who loved to cook breakfast for his family as his wife slept in.

Neal slammed the milk on the counter and smiled at me. “Good morning, my special one,” he said. He always told me all his kids had his heart, but I was special because I was not only part him, but part his Helen too. “How are you doing
?
　


I straddled a bar stool and crossed my arms. “I’m fine.”
Fine, I feel like shit, but I’ll live.

Dad turned on the stovetop and eyed me. I could tell he saw through my fake smile. He could read every one of his kids’ moods. “You miss her?”

“Yeah,” I answered without looking back at him. Dad didn’t have to use her name. We both knew who he was talking about. I started cracking the eggs in a big bowl.

“You know what she means to this family. What makes her so special?”

“She’s different. She has spent her whole life trying to keep her head above water. No matter what life has thrown at her, and hell, it has thrown her enough to destroy a good person, she finds something beautiful about each moment. She can smile when most would throw up their hands and run. She cries when she is mad and can’t find the words. You know why? Because she would rather that hurt fall down her face than come out her mouth and hurt someone else. It makes me smile just to hear her voice. My favorite sound is the sound of her laughter. My heart crumbles every time she hurts. That beautiful, fragile soul can only take so much. I’m nothing but a noose around her neck. A reminder of so much of the pain she has lived through. I won’t let her hurt any more than I can humanly make possible. I love her enough to walk away. Even if it totally destroys me to do it.”

“That’s great, but what about Victoria?”

“I’m taking care of that,” I snapped, not wanting to be reminded.

Neal jerked the bowl, overfilled with eggs, across the bar to me. “Son, you’re lucky because it took me forty-eight years before I found that kind of love. Hold onto it. Fight for it. It only comes around once in a lifetime.”

I already knew that. I would never find another Dylan. She was a once in a lifetime love. A love I didn’t get to hold onto. I gladly welcomed that achy hole in my chest, because it reminded me I got to hold her once. 

“Get the waffle iron out. Mom would kill us both if we forgot to make waffles.”

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Dylan

The star shot across the crystal clear sky, but all I could focus on was the hand that was holding mine. I turned and came face-to-face with the man that I only remembered being sad. At that moment however, his smile was as magnificent as the rest of that remarkable face.

“Wake up, sweet-pea,” Danny said and lightly tugged on my arm. “Time to work those beautiful legs.”

I squeezed my eyelids tighter. I didn’t want to wake up from my dream.

“Time to rise and shine, sunshine,” Danny whispered in my ear.

The dream had faded away, so I opened my eyes but couldn’t manage to smile. Danny, however, had an easy smile. It instantly put you at ease. Danny was not the most stunning of guys, but he was no dog either. He had a tanned face with a strong, square jawline, hazel eyes, and dishwater blond hair. I only had a few more weeks before I was discharged. I was going to miss Danny. He was the one thing that kept me going. Him and the idea of discovering who the sad man was. I was positive it was the Ethan my mind wouldn’t forget. The man my heart ached for, and the man I missed.

Danny put me through the ringer that day. I was tired and sore. All I wanted to do was climb into bed and hopefully dream more of stargazing. But Danny had other plans. He took me on a leisurely walk around the hospital. He said it was doctor’s orders. I wasn’t dumb. It was Danny’s orders. He was a great guy and went out of his way to do little things for me. Like sneaking me chocolate ice cream, moving me into a bigger room so I would have more space, and most importantly, arranging for me to have an ultrasound of my little bundle of joy for my birthday.

That was how I found myself laying on a table with my feet firmly placed in a pair of stirrups. I closed my eyes, wanting to find Baby E’s daddy. He should have been there. At the very least, I should have let Danny stay. As I was about to see Little E, I found myself as I often did, alone.

“Smile, this is a good thing,” the ultrasound tech said. “To get the most accurate data, I will need to do a transvaginal ultrasound. Other than this cold gel,” she said as she squirted a blob of gel on a long metal wand, “and a little pressure, it will not hurt a bit.”

I watched the small screen in amazement as black and white lines formed over the screen. A small little peanut-shaped baby came into focus. I reached up to run my finger across the screen as the room was filled with the most wonderful sound: the fast and loud thumping of my baby’s heartbeat.

“Strong little thing . . . look it’s already sucking its thumb.” She pointed out its little hand squashed to its cute little face. “You’re dating at fifteen weeks already. You are due August tenth. Looks like your conception date was November 17.”

I stared transfixed at the little miracle of mine floating across the screen. The tears rolled and I didn’t care. God was giving me a family, and I would do everything in my power to let that little angel know how loved it was.

“I can tell what it is.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, it’s early, but the little miracle is not very shy.”

“Can you write it down somewhere and seal it in an envelope?” I was not ready to learn the sex. I wanted to keep one part of my pregnancy to share with the father of the baby. When I finally found him?

“Yeah, no problem. Turn your head, I’ll print out a picture giving you a clear shot,” the tech said as she pulled the wand from inside me.

I turned my head and sealed my eyes shut. “Little E, are you an Elizabeth or an Ethan?” I immediately missed the sound of my baby’s beating heart. The nurse pulled my gown down and grabbed my hand to help me sit up. The tech handed me a printout of four pictures of my Little E and an envelope with a big question mark on the outside.

“You might bleed a little tonight after this procedure, but other than that, if you have any problems, tell your nurse.”

I nodded, still stunned as I looked at my miracle on the black and white print outs.

“Get dressed, and good luck, sweetie.”

Sunday, February 15, 2015

Ethan

I let my duffle bag fall to the floor with a plop. I was relieved to have the weekend over with. It was great catching up with Brandon. It had been hard on him and dad. It was their first time we were all together without Jamie. Even though Jamie was a hard one to love, those two loved him fiercely. Brandon had seemed like he was working through his resentment toward me over Jamie’s death. I didn’t know how much he knew about Dylan and my relationship, but since it was over, I hadn’t brought it up to him. I was shocked that my uncle encouraged me to rekindle my relationship with her. To be honest, I wanted to hit him, hard. If he hadn’t demanded she die for his sins, I might still have had her. Who was I kidding? A guy like me didn’t get to hold onto a girl like her. She’d always be my better.

“Whoa, bro,” Charlie said as he slammed into my back. “Going to let me through the door?”

“Do I have to?”

Charlie had to come home with me to work on some problems at the club. I was barely holding onto my job at the attorney general’s office. I couldn’t focus enough to handle the craziness at the club.

“Yeah, I need the cash these clubs make. I’m not some hot shot lawyer.”

“Who are you kidding? You make more drawing on people than I ever have,” I said as I stepped aside, letting him in.

“Because I’m the best, baby brother. Don’t ever forget it either,” he said as he marched off to the guest room as if he owned the joint. “Oh, yeah, Cherry will be here in about thirty minutes.”

I shook my head. It would be good having him there for a while.

Monday, February 16, 2015

Dylan

The pain was indescribable. Tears stung and were trying to escape my swollen eyes. The only comfort I had was the warm arms I found myself in. Was it another bad memory? I had to focus. I had no choice but to remember every detail so I could piece together my life.

“It hurts,” I whispered as he planted a kiss on my cheek, easing the burn.

“I know, beautiful. I wish I could take it all away. I wish I would have stopped it before they hurt you.” He stroked his hand down my arm and snuggled me closer to his firm, tight body. “I wish I could wrap you up and take you away with me. I never want you to know this pain again.”

It was comforting and peaceful. If not for the unrelenting pain, I would have never wanted to leave. He slipped his hands under my shirt and rested them on my back

“What’s your name?”

“My friends call me Sir, but you can call me anything you want as long as I get to hear that sweet voice,” he said as I flinched when he moved his hand softly across my skin. His touch reminded me of theirs.

“But what’s your name?” I couldn’t take any more pain and was slowly crumbling.

“It doesn’t matter.” His head dipped down until the tip of his nose nuzzled the skin on my neck.
 

It mattered to me. He mattered. He kissed the base of my neck. I bounced up in the bed and screamed.

Hands started to hold me down as my screaming became more frantic. I had been held down and hurt once before but couldn’t remember when or how. I just knew I had.

“Dylan, it’s Dr. Sawyer. No one is going to hurt you.” The voice was friendly. I knew it. I started to calm and stopped fighting the hands. It was my psychiatrist. She’d been in every day since I had awoken from the coma; sometimes multiple times a day. I remembered her talking to me and explaining hypnosis.

That was a memory. But why was I hurting so badly? And who was the man holding me? Was it Ethan? I fingered the locket around my neck. The only visual proof Ethan was real.

I reverberated the dream to Dr. Sawyer and her assistant. I was trying to understand the pain when she informed me that she couldn’t say when I’d been hurt. For some reason, my records were sealed. There was no proof I even existed before I came to Knoxville for college. The rug had been pulled out from under me, and I could hardly breathe. What had happened in my past to drag up such a painful memory and have my records sealed? I hated the medicine they were giving me to stay calm as I discovered the secrets to my life, but that day I welcomed it. And within fifteen minutes of taking them, I’d passed out.