A Family Affair: Summer: Truth in Lies, Book 3 (5 page)

How to answer that? His wife was as bad as Lily in that area. They really thought he had superpowers and could dig people out of any and all situations, especially ones of their making, even if said individuals had no desire to dig out. Still, he did not want to disappoint his wife or his sister.

“I’ll do my damn
edest, but if he’s going to get through this, he’s going to have to talk about Tess Carrick. And that could be a big problem.”

***

Olivia Carrick was starting to believe in miracles again, something she hadn’t done in a long time. Eight years to be exact. She’d lost too much to think the world could be a gentler, kinder place where lives were spared, people given second and third chances.

But Tess was coming back to Magdalena! She even planned to stay for a while
, from what she’d said on the phone. A much-needed vacation, she’d called it. And true miracle of miracles, Cash was here, too. Of course Tess didn’t know that. If anyone breathed a word before she arrived, she’d never set foot here. But this town had a way of keeping secrets and sometimes letting just enough truth seep out to set the wheels in motion.

Most small towns were like that
, but Magdalena had the distinction of being the only one that prided itself on its ability to match-make, feed a stomach, and listen to a sad tale, all at the same time. The town had been responsible for matching Olivia and Tom Carrick. Indeed they had. She’d grown up two towns over in Willowick and met Thomas John Carrick the summer between her junior and senior year of college. Tom recited Robert Frost and sold cleaning supplies out of the back of his station wagon. He stood six-foot-three with a barrel chest and a booming, contagious laugh. It was the laugh that stole her heart, promised a surefire recipe for a lifetime of happiness.

It might have worked, had Olivia been a bit more carefree, Tom, a bit less. She trusted results
and wasn’t willing to dip her big toe in the waters of uncertainty, while Tom preferred to dive in head first, no consideration for depth, climate, or contingencies.

The union proved volatile and grew quietly disastrous despite their love for each other. When Riki was born, Tom changed jobs, sellin
g dog food from county to county despite the fact that he was allergic to the four-legged creatures. After Tess, the search to fulfill that elusive dream stretched past New York, into Pennsylvania, Ohio, and West Virginia. By the time JJ came along, Tom only made it home every three weeks. But, oh, that week he was home, well, it filled the children’s hearts, and it filled Olivia’s heart, too.

Years and seasons passed, and Olivia ran the household, paid the bills, repaired th
e garbage disposal, and began teaching English literature to juniors at Magdalena High. She feared Tom would die on the road and leave her a widow and begged him to find a job that kept him home at night. But Tom Carrick couldn’t live in the day-to-day life of most people’s worlds. He needed the change to propel him on his latest adventure, even though he always returned to Magdalena saying there was no place like home.

The truth about her husband surfaced when
a young Tess’s appendix burst and she needed emergency surgery. Tom refused to visit her in the hospital because he couldn’t stand to see her in pain. And later, when JJ was caught shoplifting fishing lures from a tackle shop, Tom would not acknowledge the problem. This left Olivia and her brother-in-law, Will, the town’s police chief, to deal with JJ and his misdeeds. But in the end, she could not see her son punished and Will talked to the shop owner, who dropped the charges.

When Riki was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, Tom insisted the doctor had misdiagnosed their daughter
, and when JJ’s misdeeds continued, he would not agree to send the boy to counseling because he said,
The boy will grow out of his shenanigans by the time he hits twenty
.

Sadly, their son
never lived to see twenty. Maybe he’d still be alive if he’d gone to counseling or been made to suffer the consequences of shoplifting, vandalizing, and doing drugs. Cash had done all he could to mentor and protect JJ, but the boy could not be protected from his own poor choices and that was what ended his life, not Cash’s service revolver. Tess hadn’t seen it that way until it was too late.

Olivia wearied of being a mother, father, parent to them all, wishing just once that her husband would take a stand, which he never did. She lost her family, one by one, from death, disappointment, and disappearance. Tom died in his own bed the night Olivia
went to see her students in the high school rendition of
The Music Man
. For all the years she’d worried about him dying on the road, she’d been the one who wasn’t home, and he’d died alone.

Olivia mourned the dreams she thought they
would share that never happened. She’d given up on Riki years ago from sheer hopelessness and exhaustion, and because she simply did not know what else to do. Year after year of traveling from specialist to specialist, trying to find the next “right fit” that was never a fit at all. The worry when her eldest disappeared, then reappeared, found a job, quit, found another job, and never deemed it necessary to inform her family where she was, if she were okay, if she needed help. Riki had inherited her mother’s brain and her father’s wanderlust—a surefire and inevitable disaster.

With JJ’s death, a piece of Olivia fell in the grave with the first shovel of dirt. Tess was
her only hope. She took her daughter’s pending return as a sign, a miracle that was about to happen.

Olivia sat at the dressing table and wrapped a red scarf around her dark hair, tucking every strand under the fabric. The doctor said they’d have the results of the
ultrasound and lab tests in a few days. She’d delivered three babies and never had female problems until the bleeding a few months ago. But if she thought about it, there’d been pelvic pressure, leg aches, even problems going to the bathroom, for several months.

How on earth was she to know these might be symptoms of a problem? Growing older created all manner of havoc to a woman’s body, from sagging skin to excess belly fat to unwanted facial hair. She’d assumed the female issues were just one more change in a sea of
unwelcome changes.

The
doctor mentioned fibroids. Dolly Finnegan had fibroids and she ended up with a hysterectomy. That meant surgery. What an inconvenient time to deal with this. She supposed whatever it turned out to be, she’d have to tell Tess eventually, but not right away. There was too much to do, and she was putting all of her efforts, prayers, and hopes into seeing Cash and Tess together again. Where they belonged. Miracles were about to happen in Magdalena and Olivia Carrick was not going to miss them.

***

Nate stood in the doorway of Cash’s bedroom, taking in the posters, plaques, stacks of CDs, an old-school stereo with vinyl albums, all a blend of the boy he’d been and the man he would become. The posters on the wall were sports cars: a Ferrari, a Maserati, and a Lamborghini. In his teens, Cash could tear apart a carburetor faster than an Indy pit crew and had known all about pistons and spark plugs. Ripping apart cars and rebuilding them was his passion until Tess Carrick came along and became his ultimate passion.

Nate moved into the room, glancing at the row of pla
ques on the dresser. He didn’t have to study them to know they were all related to marksmanship, a sport that had become Cash’s specialty. And music? The guy could name the tune in less than three notes
and
mouth the words. No singing, though, because Cash Casherdon was not a singing kind of guy.

Nate didn’t know what kind of guy his old friend was anymore.
Hell, he doubted if anybody knew. He turned toward the bed and almost wished he could have postponed the inevitable a few seconds longer. Cash looked washed out and beat-up, his features drawn, his face a close match for the hospital-white sheets. His longish curly hair brushed his neck and was perhaps the only true reminder of the old Cash. The forearms were still large and much darker than his face, but Nate guessed they were not as toned as they’d once been. His gaze shot to Cash’s shoulder and chest, covered by a navy T-shirt.

Would he be able to
rejoin the force? Live a normal life? Nate yanked back the last thought because, hell, what was a normal life? Did anybody fall back to “normal” after something like this?

“You really don’t und
erstand what ‘no visitors’ means do you?”

Nate swung his gaze to Cash’s
and shrugged. “I’m not a visitor; I always kind of thought of myself as a friend.”

Cash scowled. “As a friend, you damn well ought to know I mean what I say.”

Nate eased into the recliner next to the bed and ignored the “I’m in charge” look and said, “You always did think you had answers for everything, even when you didn’t know what the hell you were talking about.”

“You’re really going to try and pull that ‘get him pissed, get him talking’ routine on me? Not going to happen. I just want to be left alone
.”

“I’m sure you do. Unfortunately, you’ve got an aunt
walking around with rosary beads in both hands and a frown that’s etched on her face. Okay, maybe the frown isn’t your fault, since your aunt doesn’t know how to smile, but the town’s starting to think there’s a corpse in here instead of a breathing man.”

“
So tell them the truth; I’m a breathing corpse.”

Who the hell was this guy in Cash Casherdon’s body? The
guy that Nate had known would kick the crap out of this bellyaching one. “I’m sorry about what happened in Philly.” He hesitated a second, almost adding,
And what happened between you and Tess
, but decided against it. “Sometimes life really sucks.” And then, because he had no idea what else to say, he threw in a bit of personal commentary. “You know, I’ve had my share of off days.”

That
perked him up. “Off
days
? Off years is more like it.”

Nate shrugged. “Yeah, well.”

Cash shot him a look. “I hear that’s all changed.”

Nate’s lips twitched and his voice took an involuntary dip when he thought of Christine and the baby. “
You could say that.”

“I hear she’s Charlie Black
sworth’s daughter.”

Was that a glimmer of interest? Charles Blacksworth still had people talking, even from his grave. “Her name’s Christine.”

“You hated that guy’s guts. Putrid, black, decimating hate. What happened to change all that?”

Christine happened. She
’d walked into his life and, despite the fact that Nate had acted like a miserable sonofabitch to her, she’d seen something in him.  She’d made him want to be a better person and for the first time in his whole life, he believed in love, believed, too, in second chances. How to explain that? He couldn’t find the words for those feelings, so he simply said, “I met Christine.”

“She must be a saint.” Cash paused and added, “Or one hot babe.”

Nate stared at his old buddy, his voice turning hard. “If you weren’t already on your back, I’d put you there for that comment.
Christine is my wife
, not a babe.”

“Fine. Sorry.
I’m happy for you.” He let out a ragged sigh. “Who would have thought?”

Nate knew exactly what he was thinking. Who would have thought Nate would end up in marital bliss and Cash would be alone, separated from the woman he
had planned his whole future around—Tess Carrick. She was the other reason he was here today.

“
I’m going to leave in a minute so you can rest up before Gina Servetti comes to manipulate the crap out of you. But first, I’ve got a few things I want to say. Now you can ignore me, but you ought to know me well enough to remember I always do what I say.”

“You mean, you’re a hardass? Yeah, I remember that about you.”

“Then remember I’m your friend and I’m telling you this as your friend.”

Cash looked away, an obvious attempt to shut out Nate’s words. Wasn’t going to work. “Everyone’s tiptoeing around the real issue, but I’ve never been a tiptoer, so here it is
. I’ll be checking up on you,” he paused, “regularly, so get used to it. Second, we
are
going to talk about what happened eight years ago and how you blew out of here without a word to me, your supposed best friend. I get that you were torn up, but damn you, all those years and not a word but the tidbits Ramona shared?”

Cash turned, glared at him. “I had my reasons. You know I did.”

“That is such bullshit.”

“Are you done?”

“Not quite.” Nate stood, moved closer to the bed, and stared at Cash. The man was weak and beaten and this next piece of information could plow him under, but Ramona had insisted Nate should be the one to tell him. “She’s coming back, Cash. I expect she’ll be here in the next day or two.”

There was no need to say Tess Carrick’s name. Nate expected the woman still lived and breathed in Cash’s soul, a constant torment of a love gone wrong.

Tess was less than an hour from Magdalena, but the dread had started the instant Ramona Casher
don pulled the “nightmare” letter from her purse. Olivia Carrick’s children did not get pregnant unless they were married. Period. That was the first of her mother’s beliefs that would get blown apart if she read the letter. The other belief that would be disproved with greater harm and devastation was that once pregnant, the contemplation of an abortion was not an option. Repeat. Not. An. Option.

But Tess
had
gotten pregnant and she had considered an abortion, not without Riki’s prodding and support, but still, the thought had trickled through Tess’s brain and sprouted possibilities. In the end, she hadn’t been able to do it, not even with Riki’s uncharacteristic support and the fact that Cash had just put a bullet in her little brother. She’d come close, walking into the clinic, clutching Riki’s hand, but before the doctor entered the room, Tess grabbed her purse and fled.

As she l
ay in bed that night, hands resting over her still-flat belly, she knew she would have to tell Cash, knew, too, she’d have to bury all emotion as she talked about visitation rights, schedules, and birthing classes. They had talked about raising children in Magdalena—together. Fate intervened and took her choice away, but it took so much more…

And now she must drive into
the town as though she’d been on a short vacation and not on the run from herself for eight years. She would do this for her mother; Olivia Carrick deserved it. Tess tried not to think about facing Cash, what he might say, what he might not say. What did any of it matter? Once he’d gained strength and purpose, Ramona would force her to tell him about the child they’d lost. Perhaps Tess would be lucky and the numbness that had claimed her soul for years would protect her from the pain of loving Cash Casherdon again.

Or perhaps the truth would seep out from layers of denial; she’d never stopped loving him.

She could not risk her mother learning the truth, and she didn’t doubt Ramona Casherdon would expose Tess’s dark secret if necessary. The woman had traveled hundreds of miles for a face-to-face meeting, which meant she was on a mission to save her nephew, no matter the collateral damage. At least she’d forewarned Tess about her mother’s health.

Heaven knew, Olivia Carrick was not about to offer up information as to the nature, or even the existence
, of a possible problem. How sad that her mother couldn’t confide in her. Olivia always said she was of strong German stock, the kind that showed little fear and even less emotion. Such self-sufficiency must have made it difficult for Thomas Carrick to measure up, and maybe that had been the problem. Maybe after a while, he’d stopped trying.

Forty-three minutes later, Tess h
eaded into Magdalena and down Main Street. Lina’s Café, Barbara’s Boutique and Bakery, Victor’s Pharmacy. The years hadn’t altered much. Maybe a coat of fresh paint or a fancier sign. How could so little have changed and yet so much be different? A lifetime ago, she’d been making wedding favors, laughing with Bree and Gina, and talking about her future. In a flash of blood and horror, it was over, all of it gone; JJ, Cash, nursing, her future. Everything.

Tess pulled into the driveway of the old two-story and
turned off the engine. In some ways, the house looked exactly as it had every spring. Bursts of color surrounded the quiet place in a gathering of red, orange, yellow, and pink. Clusters of tulips lined the pathway to the front door or scattered in beds alongside purple balls her mother called allium. White and fuchsia azaleas blossomed against a backdrop of shiny leaves, and her father’s favorite, giant daffodils guarded the mailbox like sentries. The bombardment of color and shape, and later, fragrance, began in late March and ended in November when the last rose bloom froze on its thorny branch.

D
espite the camouflage of color, the house looked like a weary soldier on duty. There were lifts in the roof, a few shingles curled from wear and the elements. Thomas Carrick had never been much of a handyman and words like
routine maintenance
were foreign to him. Once again, the task fell to Olivia. The tan siding had been newly power-washed and the windows sparkled, no doubt Uncle Will’s handiwork. Her mother said he’d been coming around to help out with this and that, adding more insulation in the attic, repairing a few door hinges, installing a programmable thermostat. Olivia said that losing Aunt Julia had been hard on him, even though they’d all known the multiple sclerosis would take her sooner rather than later, but still, being prepared was never really
being prepared
.

Tess dragged
the suitcase from the trunk and made her way up the sidewalk. When she reached the front door, she hesitated. Should she knock? Eight years was a long time. Things changed. Maybe her mother locked the door these days, though probably not. Still, Olivia might prefer that her daughter knocked. After all, Tess had chosen to leave—no, practically run away—at a time when, despite her mother’s silence and assurances that all was well, Tess had known all was not well, and she’d left anyway.

She should have stayed and battled through the despair and pain with her mother. Wasn’t that
what families did? Got through it together? She should not have called Cash a murderer in front of half the town and refused to see him. But most of all, she should not have accepted Riki’s offer to get away and then to get rid of the baby. She’d kept these truths buried so deep, they hadn’t been able to surface for years and yet, less than ten minutes back and they’d bubbled to the top, threatening to spill over and into her. Threatening to suffocate her.

“Tess!” Olivia Carrick stood on the other side of the door, arms open wide, a smile on her lips. “
How wonderful to see you!”

Tess dropped
the suitcase and hugged her mother. She’d always craved the rare moments when Olivia Carrick showed her nurturing side and this was one of them. All too soon, Olivia pulled away and said in her usual no-nonsense voice, “Well, let’s not make a spectacle of ourselves on the front stoop unless you want your picture in tomorrow’s paper.”

And that was that. It had taken years for Tess to understand her mother’s reluctance or inability to show affection—the touchy-feely kind. Fear was the cause. The woman could fight city council and tell The Bleeding Hearts Society when they were butting in where they had no business,
but she was petrified to show her emotions. Tess finally understood that fear, had learned the reality of it since leaving. Guarding emotions was safe. It didn’t hurt and closed down the pain. Sadly, it also reduced the joy.

“Mom, you’ve lost weight.” The extra
middle padding Olivia had carried since JJ’s birth was noticeably gone. Was it a sign of the illness, maybe cancer, eating through her body?

“A lot can happen in four months,” her mother said, sliding just the tiniest
hint of accusation into her words. “And it’s amazing what happens when you cut out the midnight candy bars.”

She said it with the nonchalance that might make Tess believe her, had she not heard differently from Ramona Casherdon. “You don’t need to lose weight. I thought you were fine.”
Tell me about it. Please
.

Olivia responded in typic
al fashion. “What woman is ever happy with her weight? Even you, toothpick that you are, could probably point out an ounce or two you’d like to shave.”

“True.”
She’d try another angle. “So, just cutting out a candy bar at night did that?” Tess gestured to her mother’s flattened middle.

Her mother smiled. “
A
king
-sized candy bar. It was the heartburn that stopped me, though, not the weight. When you can’t sleep because of it, you start looking at what you’re putting in your mouth and when. Candy bars at midnight with my favorite book sounds wonderful, but it was an idiotic combination, and oh, the discomfort.”  She shrugged. “Of course, it took Doc Gentry to lay it all out for me so I could see the logic of it. Sometimes it takes another pair of eyes to state what’s staring right at us. Don’t you think so?”

“Sure. Yes.” What
was
she talking about? They made their way to the living room, which looked exactly as it always had with the exception of the piano that her mother had moved from the sitting room and placed alongside the wall where Thomas Carrick’s Barcalounger used to be. Memories bombarded Tess: her father’s extra-long body stretched out on the chair, roast chicken and dumplings on Sunday afternoon, and Olivia Carrick’s signature apple crumble. JJ’s chin hairs sprouting like a chia pet. His skinny arms, his heavy metal T-shirts. His laughter. Cash standing in the doorway, talking to her father, watching every step she took and then later telling her what he—

“I’ve always loved this piano.” Olivia’s
voice dipped, cut off Tess’s wandering thoughts, and not a second too soon.

“Do you still play?”
She fingered the keys. Riki had been the only one to inherit her mother’s talent for the piano. Maybe Tess should take up the piano again. A gift to her mother.

“Every night.”

“Maybe I’ll give it another try. What do you think?”

“What I think is you’re trying
to please me and have no interest in the piano.” She raised a brow and said, “That’s the problem with a lot of us. We’re so busy trying to please those we care about, that we lose track of what’s important to
us
.” She sounded like she might be talking about herself, but how could that be when she’d loved teaching? “And if you love selling lipstick around the world—” she swept a hand in the air “—then sell away.”

I won’t be selling lipstick anymore, at least not for six months
. She was not going to tell her mother about her job, at least not yet.

“How do you like the kitchen?
Quite a change isn’t it?”

“
Wow. It certainly is.” She took in the bright yellow, a marked difference from the papered rooster deco she remembered. Thomas Carrick had said it reminded him of the farm he worked on when he lived in Idaho and for that reason, it remained long past its time.

Olivia pulled out a plastic c
ontainer of egg salad and a loaf of rye bread. “Your uncle talked me into it,” she said with a softness around the edge of her words that surprised Tess. “I told him the wallpaper just needed a good scrubbing, but Will insisted the kitchen needed brightening up.”

“Well, it’s definitely bright.” Sunglasses bright.

She smiled. “Silly man. He thought it would perk me up in the morning and I’d cut down on my coffee.”

“Did it work?” Why all the talk about Uncle Will? And the smile. What was that about? Olivia’s smiles were as rare as
a purple rose.

“Of course not.” She c
oncentrated on making Tess’s sandwich, placed a pickle on the side, and handed the plate to her.

“Where’s yours?” Enough of the idle chit
-chat. Tess wanted to talk about whatever was going on with her mother and how Ramona Casherdon knew more than Tess did.

“I ate a little while ago.” She turned toward the fridge, making it difficult to see if there was truth on her face. But soon, Tess would find out.
When Olivia sat down, she cleared her throat and her eyes grew bright, her voice quiet, yet determined. “There’s something I need to tell you, and there’s no good way to do it but say it straight out.”

“Yes?”
Here it comes. Now she’ll tell me she’s sick
.

“It’s Cash. He’s been injured.” She reached across the table and clasped Tess’s hand. “He needed a place to heal.” She paused. “He’s in Magdalena.”

***

Cash forced his
left shoulder to remain straight as he fought through the discomfort. He’d sworn to Gina that Tess would not see him lying in bed like a piece of degenerating muscle mass. He should have been working harder on his therapy, doing the exercises in the booklet the therapist in Philly gave him, hell, acting like he gave a damn about recuperating. Instead, he’d popped pills so he could live in a blur of denial and self-pity. And that was fine, except right now he needed to show Tess he was as strong as she remembered.

Gina tried to convince him the
maroon-striped button-down shirt brought out the golden highlights in his hair and added fifteen pounds to his frame. He didn’t give a damn about showing off his hair, but he’d take the weight so he didn’t look weak and helpless.

Maybe he shouldn’t have taken that last pill, but seeing Tess Carrick
after eight years of thinking about her even when he
wasn’t
thinking about her? Well, that wasn’t a challenge a man undertook without pharmaceutical assistance.

Cash snatched the remote to the television and flipped through stations. Nothing interested him, so he click
ed it off. Why the hell had he agreed to see her? It wasn’t like they had anything to say to one another, not after all the hurt and too many years. Nate had done his job and informed him Tess was back in town. That was shock enough, but actually seeing her, especially in his debilitated state, well, that was worse than torture. But Ramona had all but begged him to see his ex-fiancée, said it was time for the town to know there was no ill will between the two of them.