The Lies I Told(75)

43


JO-JO

Saturday, March 19, 2022

11:00 a.m.

I’d blocked out anything to do with Clare for years, but now that I was pregnant, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. In fact, Marisa’s text felt like a sign from Clare, who had to be watching me again. Judging me. She wasn’t happy with my silence.

The baby would soon grow and fill my body, and I realized there was no more space inside me for secrets. If this baby was going to thrive, I had to break ties with the past. Maybe that was why I’d slipped the camera into my bag before I’d come here today.

However, the instant I saw Marisa’s face, I saw only one thing. She’d been drinking. It’d been a long time since I’d seen the puffy, pale version of her face, and I’d begun to think I’d never see it again. I was sorry to see it. “You got drunk.”

Marisa sat down at the café table, drawing in the slow, steady breath of someone who was nauseated. I knew the look. I’d seen it on my own face enough times in the mirror lately.

“I did,” she said. “I screwed up.”

“Are you going to a meeting?” I asked.

“Right after this lunch,” she said. “Ready to turn in my one-year chip and start over.”

There was a surety in her tone that took some of the sting out of my disappointment. I wanted to believe she was on the right path. “At least you’re not making excuses.”

“Lying is a waste of time. I never did handle a hangover well, and to pretend otherwise is stupid.”

“You and me both.” A waitress came to the table. We both ordered colas and french fries. “Brit called me. She said she and David are getting married.”

“The happy couple came by my place this morning and told me.”

“So Brit saw you like this?”

Marisa grimaced. “Up close and personal. No lecture, though. I can thank David for that one. She’ll wait until we’re alone before she really lays into me about something.”

“Has she already started the wedding planning? Knowing Brit, she’s picked a venue, chosen the church, and roughed in a seating chart for the reception.”

“Aren’t all brides ready to jump into the planning with both feet?”

I hadn’t been excited about planning my wedding. Facing all the choices and decisions had been overwhelming. I’d asked Jack a few times to elope, but he’d been determined to give me a formal, proper memory. I understood he needed the validation, the public showing that he was back on track. I supposed the baby was going to be another notch in his respectability belt. “Do you like David?”

“I don’t know him.”

“Not the dashing sort I’d have put Brit with.”

“Love is blind,” Marisa quipped.

I laughed. “Your sister is not. Is he rich?”

“I think he’s got resources. He does something with money, so that’s got to be a plus in his column.”

“David seems nice enough,” I said.

“I don’t know him that well, really.”

“Maybe she’ll mellow after she gets married.”

The sodas arrived and Marisa sipped hers carefully. “Right. Did Jack change much after you married?”

“Well, he’s slowed down a bit.” Considering he’d been living at a breakneck speed, a more relaxed pace for him was still full steam ahead for most people.

“That’s a good thing. But . . .”

“He’s still the same guy under all the success. He’s always hurtling after the next deal. Needs the rush of a make-or-break deal.”

“Legitimate deals, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” That couldn’t have been totally true. The restaurants hadn’t done great business last year, and still he’d bought me several nice pieces of jewelry in the last few months, and this morning he had been talking about buying a bigger home.

Marisa raised a brow. “You don’t sound convinced.”

I was afraid now more than ever that Jack would land back in jail, or one of his business associates would turn on him. No matter how many times I said the past did not matter, it did. “I am. Really.”

She was silent for a moment, looking at me like Clare used to. I hear your words, but I see behind them. Marisa had known Jack as long as I had, and if she was telling the truth, she’d been too high to really offer consent when they had sex. But that was the old Jack. Not the man I’d married.

I took a sip. “What did you want to talk about? I can’t believe you’re pumped about Brit’s wedding.”

“Richards told me Clare was pregnant.”

I drew in a breath, surprised she’d not known this. “Yes.”

Marisa leaned in. “So, you did know?”

“I found out the night she died.”

“You never told me.”

“You were mourning Clare’s death. I didn’t see the reason to grieve over her baby.”

Marisa stabbed her fingers through her hair. “How far along was she?”

“She was two weeks late.”

“She would have gotten pregnant around the time of the city art show.”

“That’s right.”