Page 99 of These White Lies
Jean didn’t miss a beat. “I’m just saying. You work hard. You’ve always worked hard. Nice to see you relax a little.” Picking up an empty tray, Jean walks back toward the house, and Elizabeth’s shoulders relax.
“Beth said you were in some sort of securities. That’s a finance thing, right?” An older woman at the end of the table asks.
I swallow a bite of chicken before answering. “Not that kind of security.” I smile. “I work in private security. Investigations, mostly. Corporate stuff…”
We’d agreed to keep our story as close to the truth as possible. Less likelihood of slipping up. Plus, I plan on being in Elizabeth’s life for a long time, and telling the truth now is easier than uncomfortable explanations later.
The woman raises her brows. “Like a private detective or a bodyguard?”
I make a noncommittal sound.
She beams. “That sounds exciting!”
“It’s a lot of paperwork these days.”
Her face falls disappointed.
Flexing her plastic cup, Elizabeth is about at her limit. So am I. The more the drinks flow, the more obvious the barbs aimed at her become.
More importantly, I’m eager to check out this tree she mentioned. There is time to get to know her family later.AfterI get rid of the Lapidarists.
Elizabeth’s younger sister Caroline has joined the group, sitting next to her older sister. She’s an animated young woman, and it’s not difficult to picture her teaching a bunch of small children. But the second her sister arrived with her husband and children, it was like a dark cloud had descended over Elizabeth.
Where she had been quiet before, she was practically silent now as her sister chattered happily next to her. When Caroline gets up to refill drinks, I notice she has a pronounced limp in her right leg. It doesn’t seem to bother her or even slow her down, but I catch Elizabeth’s gaze following her little sister every time she gets up and tracking her movement with a guilty expression.
When Caroline returns with a half-empty bottle of wine, she pours more into her sister’s cup. “You’ll never believe it, Beth—we’re getting a whole new science lab this year. Anonymous donation!” she exclaims, clapping her hands. “Can you believe that? Everyone thinks it’s May Sorenson—she won the Quick Pick last year—but she swears it’s not her. Even the school board claims it doesn’t know who it is.”
“That’s great, Caro.” Elizabeth’s mouth curves in a genuine smile at her sister’s enthusiasm. “I know you’ve been wanting a more hands-on science curriculum.”
“I’m so excited.” Caroline shimmies in her seat. “It’s a dream come true.”
For a minute, Elizabeth’s eyes light, before dimming again. “You deserve it.”
“It’s not just for me, silly,” Caroline gently slaps her sister’s shoulder. “It’s for everyone.”
“Right. Of course.”
“You’re still at Mountain View?” a cousin asks. “Didn’t think you’d last past your first year.”
Caroline sticks out her tongue. “Guess I proved you wrong.” She turns to a different cousin, another teacher, and they dive into an excited exchange about lesson plans. Elizabeth listens, nodding where appropriate, but the smile’s all surface.
“Looking good, Beth. Glad you could make it.” An older woman—Aunt Frankie, I remember—strolls unsteadily up to the table. I’m instantly on alert. There’s something about the woman’s expression that says she’s looking for an argument. “We weren’t sure you remembered where home was, anymore.”
Elizabeth takes a sip of her wine. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy for Thanksgiving?”
“I was here for Thanksgiving.”
“An hour,” someone down the table adds, smirking. “If that.”
A few chuckles sound around the table. Her fingers tap once against her cup before she folds them together in her lap. “Well, I’m here now.” I can practically see her armor clicking into place, and I attempt to control my sky-rocketing temper.
“Must be hard remembering where you came from compared to your glamorous life.” Aunt Frankie flicks a look at me. “We hear all about how fancy Atlanta is.” She turns back to Elizabeth. “Still impressed by it?”
Elizabeth’s smile thins. “Atlanta’s great.”
“It’s so dangerous,” a man in a baseball cap offers. “And the traffic. Wouldn’t be worth it to me.”
