Lie, Lie Again(54)
I won’t say anything. I’m excited for you!
She stared at her phone as she waited for his response, half wishing he would respond with a little heart and half wishing he wouldn’t respond at all. “I really wish I didn’t like you so much, Brandon,” she whispered. “And I hope you get the part.”
A rattling sounded outside the classroom, and her eyes sprang open, jolting her back to reality. She stood abruptly and grabbed her phone, shoving it into her pocket as George, the grandfatherly custodian, wheeled his cart past her room. He always started on the far end and worked his way to Riki’s. It wasn’t because he was saving the best for last. George wasn’t harboring secret, loving feelings for Riki. And she certainly didn’t engage him in conversation because she had a crush on him. She was only being polite, just like Brandon. After moving her chair, she began pacing around the table. “Riki, it’s fine for you to like Brandon. Fine!” she hissed. “It’s impossible not to,” she muttered. She blew out a breath and pushed her arms forward, as though shoving a heavy door closed. “But I have to stop trying to find clues that he likes me,” she whispered. “It’s making me crazy,” she said, gripping her head. “I just need to stop. Please let me stop.”
Her phone sounded again, and she walked slowly to the table to retrieve it.
Thanks, sweetie. You’re awesome.
She sank into the plastic chair. “You’re awesome too, Brandon. But you’re killing me,” she said aloud. “Killing. Me.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tuesday, March 14
Even though the rain had finally stopped, the world was soggy. The air was heavy and thick like a pregnant woman ready to give birth. Waterlogged newspapers sat on driveways, turned to pulp. Why can’t people bring them in? Sylvia wondered. They’ll only end up in the storm drains. Or they’ll sit so long, the sun will bake them into crunchy piles until someone finally scoops them up and dumps them.
She parked directly in front of the house and strode to the stately front door. A flock of birds flapped above, testing their wings after the soaking they’d received. How beautiful, she thought. A good sign, indeed. But upon a closer look, she realized they were pigeons. Flying rats, as she called them. Dirty little creatures.
Well, it was true that anything could appear beautiful from a distance.
She rapped the ornate knocker against the door and stood back to wait, the pale-blue bag in hand. Hugh was at work already, but that was part of the plan.
Moments later, a timid voice called, “Who is it?”
“Sylvia Webb.” She added a friendly lilt to her voice that mimicked Embry. “I’m a coworker of your husband’s, and I’m here to drop off a baby gift. A little late,” she added with a laugh.
The door opened, and Lily’s hand fluttered to her chest. “Hi. I recognize you. You were with Hugh at Coffee Zombie a while back.”
“That’s me. I’m sorry I’m so late in getting this to you.” She handed her the Tiffany’s bag. “I’ve been traveling for work . . .” She waved a hand. “I don’t have to tell you. Hugh has to do a lot of traveling too, doesn’t he?”
“Yes. He certainly does.” She raised the bag with a delicate hand. “Thank you for this. Would you like to come in for a minute?”
Sylvia knew she’d asked only to be polite. She was probably holding her breath, hoping she’d decline the offer and claim she had to rush off to work. Sylvia nodded. “I’d love to.”
Lily’s lips formed a little O before she spoke. “Okay. Um, follow me.” They reached the living room, and she hesitated. “Why don’t you have a seat on the sofa? Would you like some water or maybe some coffee?”
Sylvia took a seat on the pristine white sofa and wondered if she was the first guest to grace its cushions. “Water would be nice. Thank you. Your house is lovely,” she called as Lily retreated to the kitchen. Lucky Lily, living in a beautiful home that should belong to me. Once she was out of sight, Sylvia slid her driver’s license from her pocket where she’d stashed it and placed it on the sofa, nudging her purse on top of it. That done, she assessed the room. A canvas print of Hugh and Lily hung above the fireplace. Canvas prints were so popular right now, but they looked tacky, in Sylvia’s opinion. A silver frame would be so much nicer.
Lily returned from the kitchen holding two glasses filled with ice water, the Tiffany’s bag dangling from her wrist. Her hands looked pale, as though they belonged to a ghost. She passed a glass to Sylvia with a tentative reach. Was it possible she knew? Or was she just a timid little bird? Sylvia watched as she sat across from her, checking for signs.
Lily took a coaster from a wooden box and placed her glass on it before taking the bag from her wrist. “Can I open this now?”
“Yes. Please do. It’s just a little something.”
She lifted the elephant from the box, and her eyes lit up. For the first time since Sylvia had arrived, Lily appeared to exist in bright color, not in faded shades like a flower whose petals had been bleached by overexposure. “Oh, it’s perfectly perfect. Thank you so much. Elephants are good luck, aren’t they?”
“They sure are. I rather like them. And their ability to remember is fascinating. I just read an article about it.” She smiled. “Though this one is simply cute. It can’t remember anything,” she added with a laugh.