The Weight of Lies

I clenched my fists. Open and closed, open and closed. Slow and easy. The neuropathy hadn’t started up yet, but it would. Any minute now.

“Doro,” Frances said and, in the same instant, flew across the room to her. She took the other woman in her arms and hugged her—the real deal with both arms and full-body contact—then pulled back and went in for round two. I blinked in disbelief. Who was this person—this crier and now, apparently, hugger? I didn’t recognize her.

Meanwhile, Esther made a circuit around the room, flinging open all the curtains. The late-afternoon sunlight drenched the walls and rugs. Frances squinted and turned her face into the glare.

“Oh, yes! My God, yes! I haven’t felt sun like that in years.” She closed her eyes. She clasped her hands in front of her. A huge diamond flashed. “It’s divine. Makes you want to shuck off your skivvies and run absolutely wild.” She giggled and her eyes snapped open again. “I am so happy to have met you all—Esther and Laila and Koa. And I’m horrified I’m descending on you with no warning. I’m so sorry about that,” she said, and now her voice was back to its usual part-Southern, part-faux-European timbre. “My husband and I heard Megan was here, and we had to see her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to make our wedding.”

“I wasn’t invited,” I said. All the heads in the room swiveled to me.

“Megan. Darling.” She walked to me and hugged me too, just like Doro. Her loose hair swung into my face. It smelled like expensive shampoo and her perfume. She held me by the arms. “You’re looking so well. Lovely. Robust.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Robust?”

She shook me and giggled playfully. “It’s an adjective meaning strong and healthy. I meant you look perfect, of course.”

That’s when my fingers went. They began to tingle, then the whole length of my right arm. I felt wrung out and exhausted. Confused by my mother’s game. I wanted to scream.

“What are you doing here?” I tried to keep my voice modulated.

“I said, we missed you at the wedding. It was . . .” She gave the room a smile. “Hard, not having you there.”

I pressed my lips together. She wanted this, she wanted me to get angry and fight with her. She wanted me to lose my shit in front of all these people, but I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t give her the pleasure.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” I said. “Congratulations to you both. Beno?t?” The mop-haired man brightened in the corner. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to have another stepfather.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frances frown. But I knew she wasn’t upset. I’d just given her the dig she’d been waiting for. But that was it—that was all she was getting. If she was going to play nicey-nice, so would I.

“As much as I’d love to spend more time with you and Beno?t,” I went on, “it’s going to be impossible. Doro closed Ambletern months ago, and she can’t accommodate guests any longer.”

Frances looked crestfallen. “Oh, that’s bad news. I’d looked forward to spending a day or two here, visiting our old haunts.” She flashed a hopeful smile toward Doro. “Are you sure you can’t put up with us for just a few days before we have to whisk Megan away?”

“I’m not leaving,” I replied. “You are, but I’m not.”

I could’ve sworn I heard Esther or Laila make a tsk-tsking sound behind me. I didn’t care. They had no idea what—who—I was dealing with.

Doro fished out a small white business card from the desk and handed it to Beno?t.

“It’s a bed-and-breakfast on the main street in St. Marys,” she said. “I’ll call Mike and have him ferry you back. Tell the owner I sent you, and maybe she’ll take off ten percent. Or maybe she’ll charge you double. She’s never really been thrilled about all the business your wife had a hand in bringing to this place.”

“Touché,” Frances said as Beno?t started toward her, holding out the card like a puppy who’d just fetched a stick. She took it and gave him a brief, soulful look. I sighed audibly.

“Megan, do you think we could speak in private?” Frances was tracing the business card now and had her eyes fixed on me.

“We can talk here,” I said. “These are my friends.”

She said nothing, but her gaze was steady.

I inhaled deeply, evenly. “Frances, I want you to hear me.”

“I’m listening.”

“I am writing this book. I’m writing it, and you know why, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

She smiled. And executed a deft, yet somehow careless, hair toss. “We don’t need to go into the book right now. It’s beside the point.”

“It’s not beside the point, Frances. It’s the only point. It’s why you came here.”

Her voice stayed maddeningly even. “I came because you missed my wedding, and I was heartbroken over it.”

“No you weren’t.” I was going to cry. Or throw something. I could feel it. The neuropathy was raging, and I could feel my control slipping. She was doing it again—manipulating me. Twisting things in front of people who didn’t know any better. Baiting me.

“I was,” she said.

“You missed Edgar’s funeral,” I burst out.

Her lips parted.

“Edgar died, and instead of attending his memorial, you went on your honeymoon.”

Her chin went up, ever so slightly.

“If it was the first time you’d done something like that, I’d let it go. But it isn’t close to the first time, is it? It’s been our life, from the beginning. So don’t play innocent.”

“I never claimed to be innocent.” Her eyes darted toward the others, but she soldiered on. “But you don’t have to do this, Meg, just to get back at me.”

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” I said in a softer voice, remembering Asa’s words. “It’ll hurt at first, like when you rip off a Band-Aid.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line.

“Just think of all the publicity. That should lessen the sting.”

My voice was trembling, but I meant what I was saying. I wouldn’t be swayed or cajoled or bullied into changing my mind. I was going to sever our relationship, once and for all. And I was going to do it with a book.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Esther and Laila slip out of the room. Then Koa trailed behind them, hesitating under the arched opening. I caught his eye. He looked torn, like he wanted to help, and somehow that broke my heart even more.

I looked away. There was nothing he could do. My mother could never be trusted. I would always be alone.

“Anyway.” I turned to Doro. “This is Doro’s place, and she has the final say.”

Doro laid a hand on my shoulder. It felt warm. Solid.

“Actually, Meg, I say the decision is yours. You have a lot of research to do for your book. Maybe your mother could help you. Share what she knows about Bonny Island and Ambletern and what happened all those years ago. I could make an exception and let her stay.”

Frances brightened, and she turned to Beno?t.

Keep your enemies close. That had to be Doro’s angle.

I jutted my chin at Beno?t. “But he has to go.”

Frances shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

“If he goes, you can stay.”

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