Behind Every Lie(71)

“Happy birthday!” she exclaimed, handing me a card. We’d agreed long ago never to exchange gifts.

“Oh, thank you.” I rather hated being reminded of my birthday but dutifully opened the card.

“Sorry I’m late.” She dumped her bag on the chair across from me. “I walked up from my studio. I needed the exercise.” She patted her stomach. “I can’t get fat now that I’m getting old! I have another art exhibit in San Diego next week!”

I didn’t respond. Lily sometimes said ridiculous things in an effort to get attention, but I had long since learned to ignore these attempts.

“I’ll get us a drink,” I said, sliding out of my seat.

Lily waved me away. “No, no, it’s your birthday. I’ll get the drinks.”

She chatted with the bartender for a few minutes longer than was strictly necessary, then returned with a pint of ale for me and a glass of champagne for her. The bartender came up behind her carrying a slice of chocolate cake with a candle pressed into the center.

“Lily! Goodness!” I flushed, mortified, but at least she hadn’t insisted on singing—or, worse, that the bartender sing. It was one of the most appalling American traditions, singing “Happy Birthday” in public spaces in front of complete strangers.

“I couldn’t let your birthday pass without cake!” She leaned over and swiped a fingerful of icing.

“Thank you.” I took a bite. The cake was a little dry, the chocolate frosting rather too sweet, but it was a lovely sentiment, so I forced myself to eat the entire slice.

“How was San Diego?” I asked.

“Good. Very good, in fact! The exhibition was a wild success. Almost every single painting sold!”

“Blimey, that’s absolutely brilliant!” I exclaimed, truly happy for her. After a slow start, her paintings had really started selling in the last few years, and she’d built a great name for herself within the Seattle art community.

“So.” Lily sipped her wine and slid me a sly look. “I saw a woman leave your house last night. New girlfriend?”

I blushed furiously and busied myself with folding a napkin and placing it under my glass.

Lily laughed and waved a hand in the air. “It’s fine. I’ve always known you like women, Kat. I just wondered when you’d tell me. Why did you keep it secret for so long?”

I polished my glasses on my sleeve, giving myself a moment to respond.

“I suppose,” I said slowly, “I was uncertain of who I was, and what role that played in my identity. It was difficult to trust what I truly wanted.”

“I understand that. How can you be true to yourself when you don’t trust yourself?” Lily said. “You know it makes no difference to me, right? I love you no matter what.”

“I do. Thank you.”

“Do you like her?”

“Yes, I rather do. But it’s just casual really, nothing serious.”

“How did you meet?”

“I was hiking out by Snoqualmie Falls last June. She’d lost her phone, and we got to talking.…”

“Hiking.” She laughed. “Is that what you kids call it these days?”

I frowned, and Lily laughed again. “All right, all right. I get the hint. No more questions.” She looked down at our empty glasses.

“One more drink?”

I smiled. Lily was the devil on my shoulder, always trying to lure me away from being good. “You know I only have one if I’m driving.”

“Lucky for me.” She grinned and waved a hand to the bartender, signaling for another.



* * *



It was dark when I pulled up outside my house later that night. Lily stumbled down the street to her place, absolutely pissed. I didn’t envy her the headache she would have in the morning.

I was locking the car when someone stepped into the glow of the streetlight. I pressed a hand to my racing heart.

“Eva!” I exclaimed. “Darling, you frightened me. I didn’t notice your car there!”

She had been crying, her eyes puffy and rimmed with red.

“Mom, where have you been?”

I gave her a reproachful look. I didn’t need to explain my comings and goings to my grown daughter. “I went out for a drink after work.”

“Mom …” Her voice was high-pitched, scratchy.

“Come inside, darling. We can chat there.”

I pushed the door open and turned the downstairs lights on. Under the bright living room lights, I could see that her skin was a very pale, pasty gray, the area around her mouth red and spotted with acne. Her hair was lank and unwashed, dark with oil. She was rather plump too, as if she had been eating too much rich food, her face and fingers bloated.

I felt the first flicker of worry shimmer in me. I paused as I shed my coat, one arm in and one arm out.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

Eva sank onto the couch and looked up at me, her gray eyes suddenly impenetrable. She dropped her head into her hands and started crying.

“I’m sorry! I completely forgot your birthday and now I’ve ruined it!”

“Don’t be daft!” I exclaimed. I hung my coat up and sat next to her, patting her knee. “How could a visit from my daughter ever ruin my birthday? Come now. What’s all this about?”