The Truth About Air & Water (Truth in Lies #2) (32 page)

“Are
you
okay?”

“I asked first.” Sam half-smiles, tilts his head to one side, and looks at me intently.

“I’m not completely okay. This whole thing has gotten weird. Welcome to my complicated, fucking life.” I frown at him. “I’m worried about Cara and what she’s going to do when she sees him.”

“She’s a little girl, Tally. She’s four. She’s going to be elated and feel like her birthday party is complete because everybody she loves in the entire world is here. It’s going to be okay, believe me.”

He grabs my hand and holds it. Of course, he’s taking my pulse again, but there are way too many people still around—now that word’s gotten out that the famous baseball player is coming to Cara’s party—to question why he is doing this and how he knows he should.

“Just breathe. You’re going to be fine.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear and leans in close. “Trust me. It’ll be okay.”

“I thought all this would go so differently,” I say slowly.

“Me too.”

“How did you see it going?” I laugh a little at his weird expression. He’s looking a little bemused but there’s this hint of disappointment on his face too.

“I had a date planned,” he says with a nonchalant shrug.

“What
kind
of date?”

“A dinner and a movie kind of date. Dessert of some kind.” He sighs looks away and then looks back. “The two of us. Maybe.”

Sam Wilde looking unsure is a sight to behold. “Oh,” I say with a nervous laugh, “I finally make it to the big dance, and the ex shows up.
Classic.
”

He’s giving me this none-too-subtle look now and traces my lips. Then he trails his hand along my shoulder and down to my collar bone and then lingers near the neckline of my dress.

It’s a white jersey dress that clings in all the right places that I bought for the special occasion, although it’s been largely hidden under my white winter coat most of the time because we’ve been outside. Because it’s
January. But in here? Boom!
I am the official ice queen as anointed by Cara earlier today. I don’t usually go for white, but black seemed too somber for Cara’s birthday, and for once I eschewed my favorite color for its exact opposite.
It’s not a permanent rejection. Just today.

Why am I going on about this?

Sam leans in and kisses the side of my face.
This is new.
He’s been a forehead man for the past month. And sometimes the way he kisses my forehead is more than enough to drive me wild, although I do wonder when we’re both going to be brave enough at the same time to get to the good part. I lift my head on the chance of discovering more with him, but he consciously steps back from me.

“Not today,” he says softly. “You need to talk to him. That’s our deal for moving forward with
us
. You have things to work out with him first. You need to get your footing. Find your path. Find your way.”

“Thanks for the wisdom there,
Thor
. Very nice. Really sets the tone.” He looks a little irritated with me now at the Thor reference. “I’m sure you’ve had
plenty
of girls call you that before.”

“
Thor? Plenty.
Sure.” He runs his hands through his hair and looks extremely unhappy all of a sudden. “I’ve got to go.
The Promissory Note
calls.”

“I thought you had the night off?” I ask irritably.

“I
choose
what nights I have off. I’ve decided to work this one.”

“That must be some boss you work for,” I say airily.

“I work for myself.”

“Wait a minute. Do you
own
The Promissory Note
?”

“Yeah, I do.” He studies my face. “You make a lot of assumptions, baby. Maybe you should start asking a few questions. Look around, Tally. You need to…” He sighs big. “Forget it. I’ve got to go.” He pushes away from the counter and starts to leave.

“
Why
are you behaving like a two-year-old that didn’t get his way all of a sudden?” I’m getting whiplash just watching him transform from seductive lover to tantrum boy.
Thor didn’t get his way.

“Because I didn’t get my way. Okay? I had plans for me and you tonight, baby.”

“Well, I’m sorry that didn't work out, but we talked about this. My life is beyond complicated. You’re lucky I let you come to Cara’s birthday party. You know I don’t want her confused.
About us.
Whatever that is. And I’m
broken.
And you know that. On second thought, let’s be clear:
Don’t like me.
Don’t count on me.
I can’t give you anything in return. And quit trying to
fix
me!”

“She doesn’t like to be called
baby
,” says a familiar voice I can’t help but recognize. My heart does a full stop. “She
hates
that term, in fact. And I think the lady just told you to back off. I suggest you do so. She’s wearing my engagement ring, which should tell you all you need to know about where she’s at right now. I’m Lincoln Presley, by the way. Who might you be?” The baseball player extends his hand.

Sam ignores Lincoln Presley as well as his hand.

And, Elvis doesn’t like that.

The baseball player clenches his fists together. All at once, I’m clairvoyant and get this uneasy feeling knowing he’s about ready to punch Sam.

Meanwhile, my heart restarts and is now going about a hundred beats a minute, and I begin to gasp for air.
Perfect.

Sam looks past Linc at me. “You okay?”

“Don’t call me
baby
, like ever,” I say to Sam, lean my arms against my thighs, and attempt to catch my breath. Of course, I am desperate to appear normal but that’s failing fast.

“Breathe, Tally,” they both say at the same time.

I glance up and see these two sizing each other up.
Perfect. Two gladiators going at it in my kitchen. Fight to the death! Bring it.

Charlie steps in between them. “Hold up. Focus,” says the sanest guy in the room to Linc. I give him a grateful smile.

Linc nods at Charlie and comes over to me and takes both of my hands in his. “Hi. Breathe,” he says softly. “I get them too. Just focus on me. And breathe in and out. Easy. Look at me. Count backwards. Calm your mind.”

Why did I leave his ring on?

Why didn’t I take it off as soon as I knew he was coming?

Why can’t I breathe?

Where the fuck is Marla?

And as if on cue on a stage, she’s appears at the back door. “There you are,” Marla says. “Cara, look who’s here for your birthday. Wait. What’s going on? Tal?”

“I’m fine,” I say.

“You don’t look or sound fine. You look like you’re about ready to pass out,” she says. “What’s going on? Sam? Linc?”

Cara runs at Linc at full-speed. I think she’s knocked the wind out of him. “Daddy!”

I think she’s knocked the wind out of all us.

Oh my God. Cara is talking.

“Where have you been?” She asks Linc as he kneels down and sweeps her up into his arms. She touches his face in awe seemingly trying to determine if he’s real or imagined.

Shock filters through me as the remnants from the panic attack from minutes ago start to make me light-headed. Seeing Cara speak in full sentences for the first time overwhelms me too. Somehow, we’re doing this kind of family hug thing with Cara. Linc and I kneel side-by-side hugging our beautiful little girl between us.

“You’re
talking
, baby,” I say. “Mommy’s so glad,” I whisper against Cara’s cheek. “Mommy’s so happy.”

Cara touches my face and wipes away the tears streaming down my face as if she can magically staunch the flow with her fingers before they fall. “Mommy, don’t cry,” she says sweetly.

“She wasn’t talking before?” Linc asks, openly looking at me over Cara’s head.

“No.” The answer comes from both me and Sam.

Clearly, I’m out of my depth here and unsure of what to do next. Cara is finally talking and yet seeing Lincoln Presley again within the same expanse of time is too much for me to process.

“Who are you?” Linc asks Sam leaning back from Cara and me. He openly assesses Sam as he slowly stands up and reaches his full height towering a good three inches over my good friend
Thor
. If there wasn’t so much tension building it would be funny. I press my lips together to keep from smiling and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Who are you again? I didn’t catch your name,” Linc says to Sam, somewhat gentler this time.

“I’m Sam. I’m a friend of Tally’s.” He gets this defiant look, but then he’s gazing over at me as if he’s my sole protector.

Holy shit. This is not going to go well.

“Sam. Hi. I’m Lincoln Presley. Cara’s dad. Tally’s fiance.”

“
Ex
-fiance.”

“She’s wearing my ring. I think I’m still her fiance,” Linc says easily. He smiles wide as if to say,
I’ve got this. Thanks for playing, but I win. Like always
.

Sam looks unsure of how to respond. I hide my left hand to avoid the implications of the conversation altogether and helplessly watch Linc as he disappears in the direction of the living room from whence he came.
Shakespeare anyone? We do Romeo and Juliet enough during the fall season that I am quite used to drama. But this? This is real life right here getting more surreal by the minute. Get your ticket, get in line, and watch this reality unfold.

Linc returns carrying the biggest present of the day all wrapped up in bright pink wrapping paper with white and pink unicorns all over it and the biggest pink bow I have ever seen. Carla claps her hands with absolute joy and rewards him with the biggest smile ever.

Marla whispers, “It took the entire roll of wrapping paper.”

“Thanks for helping out,” I say to her with the wisp of a smile.

“You okay?”

“Not sure yet.” I move to the farthest edge of the party and in an attempt to regroup while Sam takes the opposite corner. I’ve hidden my panic attacks from Cara. She works as a deterrent. I don’t want her to ever feel like she can’t count on her mother. I focus on breathing and watch in fascination how enchanted Cara becomes as she and Linc hastily unwrap the gift box. He pulls out this gigantic pink unicorn and hands it to her. It
is
almost as big as she is.

“Daddy, I love it,” she says softly to Linc now. “Come play with me.
Please,
Daddy.”

I can’t look at Sam because what seemed so easy for us just a half-hour ago becomes immensely complicated by Cara’s simple request of Linc. She still remembers Linc as her daddy, and she loves him unconditionally.
And where does that leave Sam and me?

When I finally do look over at him, he’s watching me intently and then the corners of his mouth curve up ever so slightly. We trade apologies for the past fifteen minutes of shared angst in that one exchange, although I am beginning to wonder when his complete understanding about my complicated life will finally end. Because it surely has to end. But right now? He looks surprisingly cool. The god is undeterred by today’s surprising turn of events of Lincoln Presley’s unplanned arrival and the generous gift of the pink unicorn essentially making our child’s day
.
Sam gave her a doll. I would like to consider it a tie, but I know better. The doll sits in the box it came in.

Cara skips over to me and shoves the pink unicorn in my face. I get a good whiff of cloves and vanilla as if it’s been intentionally spritzed with my favorite French perfume. I glance over at Linc and study him intently for a few seconds then focus back on Cara. “Mmm…This unicorn smells so good. Have you named her?” She nods. “Let me guess.”

“Elsa,” she says with a laugh before I can answer.

“Elsa is perfect.”

My daughter is still talking.
I thought maybe it would be a five-minute fleeting development, and she would regress for some inexplicable reason. We’d suffer yet another setback like so many others I’ve been a part of the past several months. But no. She smiles and laughs and claps her hands and keeps talking.
It’s a miracle. And Linc was the catalyst. That can’t be denied.
She is so happy it makes me want to cry. Instead, I attempt to recover and look into the glassy black eyes of her now-prized pink unicorn and laugh.

“Welcome to the family, Elsa.” Cara kisses my cheek and the buries her little face in my neck. I kiss the top of my child’s head. “Love you, Cara, so much. Happy Birthday, sweetie.”

Overjoyed, Cara runs off toward Linc and I automatically seek him out. Our eyes connect and there is no one else but the two of us in the room for a good thirty seconds. He slowly smiles. And I return it.

I remember that look.

I’m in trouble here.