Loving Your Lies (20 page)

“No more for me, thanks.”

The penguin hurried to bring me and Marie
each a cup the size of my foot, filled to the edge with chocolate
and vanilla ice cream, topped with a mountain of whipped cream and
two wafer rolls. My brain froze with every spoonful I shoved into
my mouth. Three quarters down to the bottom, my stomach resigned,
but I couldn’t stand to waste any of this precious dessert.

“Please,” I begged Julian. “Could you help
me finish this monster sundae?”

Through with her dessert already, Marie
offered him her spoon, and we took turns scooping the cream from
the cup. Julian fished out the cherry that stuck on the bottom of
the glass tub.

I was full to the brim, but this little
cherry must have been the most appetizing thing in the world. Never
having had any, I could only imagine how heavenly it would taste.
My mouth watered anew with the mere sight of it on Julian’s long
stemmed spoon.

He sneered at me as he lifted the fruit to
his mouth. My heart sank. But then he gave me a wink and brought
the spoon in front of my lips.

Uncertain, I chewed the inside of my
cheek.

“Go on, it’s yours,” he urged.

I opened my mouth and he steered the cherry
to its final destination, his eyes fixed on mine the entire time. I
bit into the fruit. The sour taste was nothing close to what I had
expected. I grimaced, swallowed the bite, but kept the pit in my
mouth. It rolled along my teeth as we left the bistro and headed
back to the car.

We made a stop at the local supermarket
where Marie spent another small fortune on food and drinks, then
she steered the SUV on the road home.

My heart sank with each mile she drove. The
day alone with her and Julian had been too beautiful. Already in a
few minutes the horrible face of my mother would put a stop to my
joy.

14

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SONG

ONCE BACK HOME, Julian and I slugged the
heavy bags after Marie into the kitchen to help her put away the
groceries.

As we walked through the door, the warm
scent of chocolate took me on an immediate journey through time. A
sudden impulse to twirl on the spot shot into my legs and, for the
blink of an eye, left me light-footed. Without my knowing, soft
giggles shook me. But catching a glimpse of my mother’s rear when
she was bent over the opened oven made me gain control.

“You came just in time for coffee and cake.
I made your favorite, Jona,” Charlene said when she pulled a
steaming chocolate fudge cake out of the oven.

In spite of the delicious scent that wafted
in my face, anger spiraled up inside me. Not just because of her
getting off talking to me, but most of all because it was a memory
belonging to her and me alone that had made me smile right then. I
fought to stay rooted in the present and leave things in the past
alone.

“And just what makes you think you know
anything about my favorites? It’s not as if you came to the
orphanage lately to find out.” My toxic voice earned me a poke from
Julian. I didn’t care. After all it wasn’t half as painful as the
twinge of my heart. With a heavy thump, the bag in my arm landed on
the counter.

The blue cushions on the bench wrapped
around the table flattened when we all took our seats while Marie
brought the coffee pot and poured. Charlene dished out cake.

The devil may get me if I ate anything made
by the dragon.

When she was about to hand me a piece, I
stared straight at her, all memory shoved away. “No thank you. I
don’t fancy your bloody cake.”

My aunt exchanged an uneasy glance with my
uncle, but neither reprimanded me. In fact, it was Julian’s tender
fingers that suddenly nudged my chin and tipped my head so I would
look at his penetrating eyes.

“Did someone ever tell you that you’ve the
mouth of a snotty brat?” His thumb smoothed over my cheek, then he
let go of me.

I was still gazing at him when he began
sipping his coffee. The temperature around me dropped to an
uncomfortable level. Unbelievable, how he made me wish I hadn’t
lipped off to my mother for once with this one reprobative glance.
It scared the hell out of me to realize how much this man’s opinion
mattered to me. I had never cared what anyone thought of me, so why
now?

I drank my coffee fast to quench the taste
of bad conscience. And while everyone else still shoved bites of
chocolate cake into their mouths, I excused myself from the next
round of refills.

Some alone time was on the plate. To have so
many people around me all day exhausted me. It surprised me when I
realized I roamed through the vinery instead of retreating to my
room. Strange, how very much this place had grown on me in the last
three days. Only now did I realize that I actually missed working
out here.

I paused from pounding the path and pinched
the bridge of my nose. A glance back to the house and up to my open
door on the balcony ascertained my suspicion. Damnit to hell—I was
falling in love with this house and the grounds. I dragged two
restless hands through my hair, pushing out a desperate sigh.

What would Quinn say if he could see me now?
I missed my friend. His scolding when I was dragged to the office
and he’d taken care of me as well as the saucy chats we’d had when
he’d invited me to McDonald’s for a coke and a burger before he’d
delivered me at the orphanage.

He would want me to be happy. ‘
If you
can’t change a situation, make the best of it.
’ His words
surfaced in my mind. Maybe I should listen to my friend for
once.

Kicking stones out of my way released some
of my frustration, but the doubts and confusion remained. I’d run
from so many places in the past when I nicked a little money or
something shiny. I’d even run from the orphanage. Twice. But I’d
never made it farther than Gatwick or Chelmsford by dodging the
fare before an official had caught me and sent me back to the
institution.

In fact, I grew tired of running.

Maybe, just for a little while, I could
enjoy the pleasantries of having a nice place to stay put without
worrying what tomorrow would bring.

Surrounded by all the greenery, I tilted my
head and gazed at the sky. “Damn, what’s your bloody plan?” For a
moment, I studied the clouds drifting by, knowing I wouldn’t get an
answer other than maybe a bird pooping on my face.

With my hands tucked deep into my pockets, I
strolled back to the house. The kitchen was empty, but I heard
people chatting in the front room. Muffled but desperate,
Charlene’s voice caught my attention.

It went against my nature to eavesdrop.
After all, I didn’t give a damn about what the dragon had to say.
But as my foot hovered over the second stair, she mentioned my name
and that was enough to change my mind.

I crept to the front room door and strained
to listen.

“…will get over it eventually. Trust
me.”

I had a strange feeling of foreboding on the
subject Julian was talking about.

Sounding close to tears, my mother replied,
“But what if she just can’t forgive me? It doesn’t seem like she
ever will.”

Yup, my intuition was dead on. What struck
me weird was that the dragon confided in Julian with her doubts and
sorrow, and not in someone who’d be a little closer to her. Like
family. I’d have expected her to talk to Marie, instead of her
caretaker.

“You have to give her some more time,”
Julian insisted in his familiar soft tone, the same one he used
when he’d dragged me out onto the balcony last night.

“But you of all people know time is the only
thing I don’t have left!”

Hard as it was to admit, her grief sounded
genuine. It gave my heart a twinge. The second within only an
hour.

“Be patient, Charlene. Rest. Conserve your
energy. I’ll take care of everything else.”

The room fell silent. What was going on? I
urged to lean around the corner and peek inside, but I couldn’t
give away my advantage. The wall behind me cooled my back as I
frowned at the ceiling, waiting for them to talk again.

Dissonant notes sounded from the piano, like
someone hit random keys when walking by.

My mother cleared her throat. When she spoke
her voice had dropped a few notches. “I’ve noticed a change about
you.”

A silent second ticked by.

“Did you?” The faintest hint of disapproval
from Julian.

I hadn’t observed anything different about
Julian. But then she probably referred to a longer period than the
few days I knew him. My curiosity threatened to kill me, so could
this woman be a bit more precise, please?

“I know that look.” she said, and her
off-key tone made the hair at the back of my neck stand up. “But
you should be wise enough to see that there’s no way.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Curt and
precise. He knew just too well, all right.

But should I know, too? What way did the
dragon mean, and who was she to teach him?

I silenced my thoughts to hear more, when my
mother’s harsh scolding of Julian drifted to me. “Of course, you
know. Don’t think I’m stupid just because you’re that much
older.”

Oh boy, she must have forgotten to take her
pills. Mental disorder. He could hardly be older than twenty, and
she must be way over forty. In teenager reckoning this was like
comparing Apollo to Medusa.

Her sigh dragged through the room. “You can
never give her what she needs. All you will do is hurt her.”

Her
?
A red-hot lance of
jealousy stabbed my heart. Charlene was talking about another
woman. No surprise, her mood had changed to snappy. From the very
beginning, I suspected she wanted this man for her own, even if he
played way beyond her age class.

But he couldn’t be taken. He told me
yesterday, and I would swear he didn’t lie to me. Just…
no
. I
refused to picture him holding another girl like he held me last
night.

There…I…Oh, shut the hell up, Jona.

“I’m not intending to hurt her—or anyone.
Don’t worry, I do know my place. My first and foremost duty is to
you. Your daughter,” he said, pausing and then speaking with
effort, “comes a close second.”

Hands clapped over my mouth, I killed the
sound of my sharp inhale.

Footsteps approached the door. I swallowed
the amazement and quickly dashed up the stairs, taking steps three
at a time. At the top, I spun around and casually walk back down,
pretending I hadn’t heard any of their conversation. But my heart
raced madly inside my chest.

Spotting me on the stairs, my mother paused.
For the blink of an eye, the awkward feeling of being caught
stopped me in my tracks as well. A purple shrug, wrapped around her
skinny shoulders, made her ashen face appear more sallow. Without
saying one word, she hurried on into her room and closed the
door.

Stunned, I remained on the stairs and stared
down the empty hallway, struggling to shake off this unnatural
feeling of guilt. I would have never thought it possible, but her
sorrow left a sore spot in my soul.

Dumping the thought, I spun on my heel,
ready to ascend to my room. But music coming from the parlor froze
me in place.

Julian played the piano.

Captivated by the sweet melody, I wondered
if this was what he got from Paul’s. I sneaked closer and peeked
into the room. Julian wouldn’t notice me with his back toward the
entrance. Good, because after what I’d heard him say a minute ago,
I didn’t think I could look straight at his face. The noose of
confusion still wound around my throat, and words would have evaded
me, anyway.

The beautiful chords he played filled both
the room and me with calm. Clutching the doorframe, I pressed my
cheek against the smooth wood, gazing dreamily out the window into
the flaming red sunset.

It escaped me when the first piece of music
ended and he started a new one. But at the first new chords, I
straightened with a start. He was playing
my
song. The one I
so often hummed to myself, not knowing where I’d first heard it, or
if I’d made it up by myself.

Only he didn’t just play the single notes as
I would have hummed them. His hands caressed the keyboard up and
down as they caroled over this little melody of mine. A minute
later, Julian angled his head, casting a glance at me over his
shoulder. His eyes all smiles, he winked.

Argh, caught.

My heart thudded against my ribcage. I
feared if it pounded a notch louder, it might have served him as a
metronome.

With a slight flick of his head, he invited
me to come over and join him on the piano bench. Ever so slowly, I
walked toward him, worried I had misinterpreted his gesture. But
that doubt vaporized the moment I approached the piano and he slid
over to the end to let me take a seat next to him.

He leaned in, and his familiar smell filled
my head. “Could you turn the page for me?”

On the stand sat a pack of music sheets with
lines and notes, but I couldn’t begin to make sense of it. At this
moment, though, I knew he went to Paul’s only to get this piece for
me. That was the reason he’d come with us to town from the
beginning.

My fingers cold, I fumbled with the page,
turning it over, then I sat so still one might have mistaken me for
furniture. His fingers never stopped moving over the ivory.
Sometimes they just stroked the keys, the next moment they pushed
them down with firm insistence. It almost felt like he made love to
the piano with his very hands. For the briefest moment, I wondered
what it would feel like if he stroked me the same way.

My eyes skipped to his face, and I bit my
lower lip, not wanting to explore this thought any further.

Twice more, he nudged me with his elbow and
said, “Next page, please,” while he concentrated on the notes in
front of him.