The Truth (13 page)

Standing up on shaky legs, she peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her color was a bit flushed, but she didn’t appear like a woman who only seconds ago was close to fainting. It was time for her to get herself together, and go enjoy her friend’s special day. She’d smile as Grayson walked into the sunset with the capped-tooth, fake-boobs, uppity-southern bimbo. Tomorrow, she’d figure out how to say the words that somehow must be said.

Running her hands down the front of her dress, she smoothed out the fabric before heading out of the room. She’d just snapped the door closed behind her when she came face to face with the southern bimbo herself.

“Are you all right?” she drawled. “The festivities are about to start.” Her smile was big, bright, and well-rehearsed. Her eyes, however, reflected her true feelings.

“Of course, I’m fine, just freshening up.” Lexie didn’t bother to fake a smile and stepped around Darla Mae.

“Lexie,” Darla crooned from behind her, “I’m sorry your relationship with Grayson didn’t last. I hope you were able to recognize his intentions early enough to avoid a broken heart.”

Whipping around, Lexie narrowed her eyes and fought to move her retort past the lump in her throat.

With a syrupy smile plastered across her face, Darla Mae stepped closer to her. “Grayson and I were fated to be together. Although I’m sure you believed you were different, every fling he’s ever had always brought him back to me. I can’t help but feel partially responsible for your pain.”

Lexie fought the urge to slap the look of pity she wore on her perfectly made-up face. “Every fling? Are you insinuating that our relationship meant nothing, and that the woman he’d once planned to marry was also nothing? Both she and I were just a momentary lapse in judgment?” Lexie wanted to sound accusing, unaffected by Darla Mae’s bravado, but she knew her insecurities were showing, and her attempt to put this woman in her place had instead, become a line of questions she really wanted answered.

Darla Mae’s condescending sigh vibrated down the empty hallway. “Is that what he told you? That he’d planned to marry that nothing dancer?” She frowned and shook her head. “She was simply a distraction for him, a part of his rebellion against his parent’s expectations.”

Lexie shook her head, wanting to scream that she was a liar, but deep down afraid she wasn’t.

Darla Mae looked her directly in the eye and took another step forward. “He was never going to marry her. Or you for that matter. Why would he continuously return to me if he was serious about either of you?”

Advancing, Darla Mae brought them nose to nose and looked down at her. “No man can fake the passion he showed me last night. You don’t really believe that he simply went home alone after pouring you, drunk and disheveled, into your own bed, do you?”

Lexie felt as if she’d been slapped. She struggled to recall the night before. Pieces of time floated through her mind, a kaleidoscope constantly turning, but never coming together in a clear picture.

Darla Mae smirked, and shaking her head, stepped around a stunned Lexie and gracefully descended the stairs.

After a lengthy talk with herself and a stern reminder about why she was here, Lexie made her way back into the reception area. She could, and would, get through the next few hours without falling apart. Today was not about her, or Grayson. It was Aimee and Mark’s day and she would forget about her pain and embrace their joy. She could do this, she had too.

Ryan spotted her and raced toward her, his green eyes bright with excitement. “Mom, I get to sit at the big table with you and Grayson.” He was out of breath, and panting his words. “I can’t get out of this monkey clothes yet though.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you mean monkey suit?”

Ryan nodded his head with vigor. “Grayson says that we have to stay in these monkey clothes till we get home, but that we can take off our coat and ties after everyone has emptied the champagne and starts dancing like fools.” He grabbed her hand and started pulling her toward the table. “Come on, Mom, you get to sit with Grayson and me.”

She felt Grayson’s eyes on her as she was physically dragged to his side. Reading the place cards set neatly behind the plates on the table she knew she couldn’t get out of this situation without causing a scene. She wished Ryan was wrong and they could change out of their monkey suits. Grayson looked too much like a groom as he stood there sipping a glass of champagne. He looked the way she’d dreamt he would; only she’d pictured herself in the white dress, and him smiling at the altar. But in her dream he didn’t look uncomfortable and his eyes hadn’t been pleading for understanding.

What did he think would happen when he showed up with Darla Mae at their friend’s wedding? He was in for a surprise if he thought he could jump from her to another and be welcomed back again. She knew she’d been unfair with her silence, but once she’d gathered the courage to tell him the truth, he would have understood. Wouldn’t he? She was no longer sure. Being honest with herself, she was no longer sure about anything between the two of them.

Gazing his way, she dipped her head in silent greeting and sat in the seat beside him. Other members of the party filtered in and took their seats, their chatter making the silence between the two of them obvious, and much more uncomfortable. Ryan couldn’t sit still and seemed to talk to everyone at once as he bounced eagerly on his chair.

Focusing her attention to the newly married couple standing on the dance floor, she concentrated on forgetting Grayson was sitting directly beside her, or that his leg was burning a path of heat through her dress as it brushed her thigh.

The couple thanked everyone for coming, instructed the waiters to pour more champagne and announced that dinner would be served in less than ten minutes. When they exited the dance floor area, they made their way over to Lexie and Grayson, pausing in front of them.

“We are so grateful that you two stood up with us today. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.” Aimee’s genuine smile was infectious.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Lexie said honestly. “I know you two will have a long and happy life together.”

“Marcus Lee is married. I never thought I’d see the day,” Grayson chuckled. “I’m not sure whether to congratulate you Aimee, or give you my condolences.”

Mark laughed and leaned over to kiss his bride. “Definitely your condolence, the poor girl has no idea what she’s done.”

Her smile permanently embedded on her face, Aimee playfully slapped at Mark. “I know exactly what I’ve done, and I won’t regret one moment for the rest of my life.”

Watching the two of them it was almost impossible to remember a time they weren’t so obviously committed to each other. Lexie knew that secrets could be forgiven, she was witnessing that now, but her situation was different. Wasn’t it? She sipped her champagne and glanced at Grayson. He was all smiles as he chatted with Mark, reminiscing about their college years when they’d been roommates. But his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

The newlyweds took their seats at the center of the table as dinner was served. The conversation flowed loudly around them as Lexie sat in silence listening to her son list off the names of the constellations he’d discovered with his telescope. Grayson kept up with him, mentioning other stars Ryan should locate and explaining the general area in the sky where he should look.

Darla Mae sat at a table directly to the left of them, and nodded politely at the man beside her, never taking her eyes off Grayson.

After the toasts, the slicing of the cake, and the couple’s first dance, the guests began to filter onto the dance floor. The music picked up its tempo and Lexie grabbed Ryan’s hand, dragging him onto the floor. She noticed the moment she’d walked from behind the table, Darla Mae slid into her seat beside Grayson.

Returning from the dance floor, Lexie winced at the sight of Darla Mae whispering into Grayson’s ear, her breasts rubbing against him as she leaned in, her bare arm draped comfortably over the back of his chair.

Ryan tugged on Grayson’s sleeve and whispered something that made Grayson laugh. He nodded his head, and a huge grin spread across her son’s face as Grayson untied Ryan’s bow tie and slipped it off his neck, before Ryan raced back to the dance floor.

With Darla Mae on one side of Grayson and her son on the other, Lexie knew she was witnessing her biggest fear. Where was she in this picture? Would she be on the outside of a newly made family? Would Grayson move back to Kentucky and take Ryan with him?

Scenes, like previews in a movie theater, raced through her mind. Ryan begging to live with his father; Darla Mae, informing Ryan that Lexie wasn’t his mother, only a legalized babysitter; Grayson laughing at her when she told him Ryan was his son. Grayson admitting he knew about Ryan and not wanting him. Replaced, rejected, and enraged — she felt all of those things.

Needing an outlet, she walked to Darla Mae with a purposeful stride. “No wonder you needed to sit down. Your feet must be killing you in those hooker heels.” Lexie snapped.

Darla Mae glared at her, turned back to Grayson, pasted a smile on her face, and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m in your seat aren’t I?” She stood and waved her arm over the chair like a game show hostess and stepped back.

Taking her seat, Lexie focused her attention on Luther, Aimee’s best friend, as he shared his opinions of Darla Mae under his breath.

“She’s got nothing on you girl. Don’t waste another minute worrying about that tramp.” Luther narrowed his eyes as he watched Darla Mae hovering behind Grayson. “She’s got claws under those manicured nails. Grayson isn’t a fool, he sees that.”

“Thanks Luther, but you’re giving Grayson too much credit,” Lexie shrugged her shoulders.

Luther winked and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been contemplating getting a bit of nip and tuck work done. Could I get the name of your plastic surgeon, Darla Mae?”

Lexie bent her head down trying to hide her laughter as Darla Mae stuck her nose in the air and stomped away.

“Luther, you’re terrible,” she giggled, “I love that about you.”

Pulling his shoulders back, he smiled proudly. “I do what I can.”

Grayson didn’t seem as entertained. His disapproval was written clearly on his face. Aimee shook her head and tried to dislodge the visual of Darla Mae with Grayson from her mind. Part of her wished she’d never been told. Now she was dissecting every whisper, every touch, every look, and driving herself crazy.

Lexie startled when Grayson reached over and laid his hand tentatively on her leg. She shot up and glared at him. Through clenched teeth she instructed, “Don’t.”

He lurched back as if she’d slapped him.

Standing up, Lexie excused herself and walked out of the reception area. Following a brick pathway, lit by candles and torches, she entered a small seating area surrounded by hundreds of rose bushes. The scent was intoxicating, the flowers beautiful, and the area itself was exceptionally peaceful.

She jumped at the sound of her name. She’d been so focused on the gentle peach colored rosebud that she hadn’t seen Emily sitting quietly on one of the cushioned chairs set around a small table.

“Are you okay?” Emily asked, her caring face slowly melted the last traces of Lexie’s resolve.

“Can I ask you something?” Lexie sat beside Emily and studied her hands folded in her lap.

Emily nodded.

“If you’d have found Aimee when she was four, five, or even six, would you have brought her home? Removing her from the only parents she’d ever known?”

Looking shocked by the question, Emily cleared her throat and pulled Lexie’s hand into hers. “That woman kidnapped her, Lexie. She took her out of my arms a day after she was born.” Her eyes welled with unshed tears. “I missed her growing up, I missed all her firsts. I would give anything to have that time back.”

Lexie gazed into Emily’s eyes. “What about the woman’s husband, the man Aimee believed to be her father? He didn’t know Aimee wasn’t his daughter. He was a victim like you were. His wife lied to him.”

Emily grew silent, her head tilted back as she looked at the night sky. Without looking down she added, “He loved her completely, and she him.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’d like to believe I’d do the right thing. That I would put Aimee’s needs before mine, but the truth is, I don’t know if I would have believed anything they told me back then. I also can’t forget that Aimee will never have a chance to know her real father. Or that Nathan died without knowing her.”

Lexie simply nodded her head.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Emily asked.

“Desperately, but I need to talk to someone else first.” Lexie hugged her friend and headed back to the reception.

The crowd had started to thin and those left were mainly on the dance floor. She spotted Grayson, his back to her, dancing with Darla Mae. As he held her against him, Darla Mae leaned closer, and slowly ran her hand down the middle of his back.

Pressure built behind her eyes and she quickly turned away before the tears began. Lifting a sleepy Ryan into her arms, she said her goodbyes to Aimee and Mark and walked away.

The group was in high spirits as they gathered around the table overlooking the water — except for Lexie. She always looked forward to a Sunday afternoon at her parents’ house, but today, she couldn’t get the picture of Darla Mae and Grayson out of her head, or keep the words from Maggie’s journal from replaying like an old scratched record. Worse, she couldn’t shake the sense of loss that overwhelmed her.

Lexie’s friends always had a seat at her parents table. The Waynes had a way of opening their arms that made it irresistible to stand outside their embrace. She gazed over at the chair Maggie had occupied on Sundays, and felt its emptiness stronger today. She couldn’t help but see the irony in the fact that the empty chair beside Maggie’s had been where Grayson sat only weeks ago. But today, he was absent from the Sunday gatherings, too. She watched her mother, her face aglow with happiness, as Ryan bounced with excitement on her lap. Her father reached over and tousled Ryan’s hair without taking his attention from the story Marissa was telling him.