My dad arched a brow in response.
“Because I'm nothing like you,” I said with a sharp tongue. “Lilah won't turn into her mom because I'm sure as hell not gonna turn into you. Look at yourself.” I sneered. “You're a forty-year-old man drinking yourself into oblivion. You lost your wife, and I lost my mom. You can't just pretend that life doesn't go on.” I shook my head. “Why can't you see that? Why can't you see that you've turned a sad thing into something even worse? I couldn't mourn the death of my mom because I was too busy making sure you didn't choke on your own vomit every night.”
I stood and pulled the keys out of my uniform pocket. The entire walk to the front door was met with silence from my father, but I wasn’t under the delusion that he’d listened to a single word.
Drunk bastards don’t change.
Chapter Fifty
Lilah
Secrets make up the backbone of a small town. Secrets, gossip, and lies. No one cops up to it. Sweet-looking old biddies talk shit about their friends, but follow it up with a “bless her heart” and everyone pretends it's all right. It doesn’t matter if you try and dress it up with a pretty bow; gossip is gossip is gossip, and I loved every juicy piece I could get.
The secrets piled up faster than I could scribble them into my journal. They were like weeds growing out of control with no one to keep them in check. I hoarded them, coating my new journal with them until the black ink bled across every page.
My small town was hiding more than I could have ever hoped. There was fraud: the Baptist church downtown hadn’t been a victim of faulty wiring; the church elders had set it ablaze for the insurance money. There were affairs and adultery: everyone from a teacher’s aide at my high school to Mr. Hill across the street. Cheaters were sloppy and indulgent. Most of them wanted to be caught, but they were too weak to come right out and admit it. There were small secrets—neighbors watering their lawns during drought restrictions—and big secrets—D&T bakery downtown was a cozy little front for a money laundering drug operation.
Most of the time, the secrets fell in my lap, but in other cases I had to do some investigating. I sat in D&T bakery after school, watching and listening. The first time there was a money drop, I didn’t believe I’d actually seen it. I had to go back three more times before I actually confirmed my suspicions. Stuffed in between the chocolate croissants and glazed bear claws were thousands of dollars of dirty drug money. I had always wondered what the workers at a 24-hour bakery did during the 20 hours of downtime.
I scribbled down every secret I could find, exposing my journal pages to the liars of Blackwater, Texas, and every lie I scribbled down helped soothe my soul.
Listening to the town’s gossip had its disadvantages though; I heard every murmured word about Chase and me. I saw every lip that was pursed and every take that doubled.
“Chase has such a bright future, and she’s so troubled. Bless her heart.”
I wanted to kill the next person who tried to bless my heart.
“What does he see in her?”
I wished I could have answered them, “I have no idea.”
I flipped through the pages of my journal, running my hand over the words I’d scribbled there the day before. I didn’t want to go home, so I sat inside D&T and pretended not to notice when someone ordered the blackcurrant macaroons, an inconspicuous off-menu item.
The bell chimed over the door and I glanced up to see Kimberly’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. White, walk into the bakery with big smiles. I hadn’t seen them in years, but they’d aged like vampires: no wrinkles, no worries, just perfect smiles and bright blue eyes.
Mrs. White scanned the small space until her eyes landed on me.
“Lilah Calloway! What a surprise,” she said, skimming her gaze down my Jake Bugg t-shirt and dark jeans. “I haven’t seen you since you and Kimberly’s dancing days.”
I closed my journal and slid it off the table, offering up a fake smile as they approached. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”
Mr. White stood behind her, beaming down at me from ear to ear. Ever the smiling dentist.
“How have you been?” she asked.
“Fine.”
My lackluster conversational skills didn’t deter her.
“Kimberly mentioned that you and Chase were seeing each other,” Mrs. White said with a tilt of her head. “You know, I have to say that we always had Chase picked out for Kimberly. I mean the two of them were so inseparable…while you were away.”
Her hollow eyes made it impossible to tell if she was being malicious or just oblivious. Still, I wanted to reach up and clamp my hand over her mouth. I didn’t need to hear stories about Kimberly and Chase. I had a running loop of their happy faces constantly playing in my head.
“We aren’t really together,” I offered awkwardly.