Page 93 of Lie With Me
It’s almost like her way of healing.
And now that she’s starting to let me take care of other things, it’s easier for her to take on her mother’s expenses herself.
Suddenly, I’m filled with heavy grief. This entire weekend would have gone differently had I just been honest with my parents in the first place. “You know, she was really starting to warm up to you,” I tell my mom. “She’s never had a mother figure. And while you two had your differences in the beginning, I know you became fond of her, too.”
“Oh, don’t believe whatever sob story she fed you. She’s obviously very good with her lies.”
“Margo, ease up,” Pops gently scolds.
“She has no reason to lie to me. Do you know why she works at the club? It’s because her mother sold her for drugs when she was a little girl.” Pops’ head snaps in my direction while my mother’s lips turn down in a skeptical frown. “Yeah, you heard me right. Her own mother traded her sexually so she could get her fix. Valentina had a horrible childhood, but she escaped it and made something of herself. You don’t have to approve of what she does. Or even who she is. But I can’t live without her, and I don’twant to. I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to accept my decision. But that’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. So, you can disown me, remove me from your will, stop speaking to me—I don’t care! I chooseher.”
Mother looks horrified, though I suspect now it's for an entirely different reason. I remember what it felt like when I found out. I can only imagine the thoughts that are going through my parents' heads. Standing, I shoot them a small smile. “I love you guys. But there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”
They don’t say anything as I leave.
It only takes a few minutes for me to rush back to our room—back to Valentina. Opening the door harder than necessary, I call out, “Viv?”
Silence greets me. Crossing the room, I check the bathroom to see it empty. Panic grips my chest as I notice the absence of her things on the vanity. Turning, I check the closet to find all her things are gone. “No, no, no…”
Something glints in the corner of my eye, and I realize there’s something on my pillow. There’s a heavy, hollow feeling beneath my ribs as I walk closer, seeing her engagement ring on a piece of paper that has her kiss mark. Her ring is cold when I pick it up. Placing it and the paper in my pocket, I make my way down to the concierge.
The lady who checked us in yesterday gives me atight smile as I rush up to the desk. “How can I help you, Mr. Kennedy?”
“Have you seen my fiancée? The pretty brunette I checked in with yesterday?”
She blinks before confirming my fears. “She left, sir.”
“Left? Did she say why? Did she say anything? You know what? Never mind…thank you.” I turn away, intent on grabbing my stuff so that I can head back to the city.
“Mr. Kennedy? If I may?” she calls out. She looks around before ducking her head as I walk back. “She was looking for you earlier, but you were with Miss Porter. Your mother found her, and their discussion didn’t look pleasant.”
My heart does a cannonball into my stomach. “Thank you.”
Of course, that’s what would prompt her to leave. First, I treat her like shit, and then my mother goes after her, too. She deserves so much better than this.
Pulling my phone out, I dial her number when I return to the room, but it goes straight to voicemail. Cursing, I throw all my things into my bag and leave the inn, not bothering to let my parents know I’m leaving.
Jackson calls as I’m pulling onto the freeway, and I answer since Valentina still isn’t picking up, and he’s been trying to call me for the past hour. “What, Jackson? Now isn’t a good time.”
“Tell me about it,” he sounds pissed. “What the fuck were you thinking, Tripp?”
Lenni
By the time I land in Pittsburgh and secure a rental car, it’s near closing for the facility where Momma was staying. Of course, the first stop I want to make is to the mortuary where they are keeping her body, but the nurse, Paula, who called me earlier, insisted we get the paperwork filled out as quickly as possible to start the process of getting her cremated.
“We didn’t even know she had a phone. She’s a sneaky one, your momma. We found it hidden in a hole under the mattress.” Paula looks like she may be in her sixties, and she wears the stress of her job around her eyes—heavily creased and darkened from lack of sleep. But she still greets me with a smile and a warm cadence as she walks me through the paperwork.
“It’s not a phone. Not really. I’m the only person she can talk to. After the last facility, I thought thatmaybe it would help her,” I say. When I sign the last piece of paper, I tap the pen against the stack, afraid to ask what I really want to know.
“She was getting better, honey. Finally agreed to go to therapy, stubborn as she was. Grumbled the whole way about it, but she went. She spoke about you often.”Damn, Paula is good at her job.
Tears line my eyes, and I blink them away before they can fall onto the papers. My voice is thick with emotion as I whisper, “You seem really nice, Paula. Thank you for taking care of her.”
Her lips curl in as she nods, coming around her desk to wrap her arms around me. At first, I stiffen, unsure how I feel about a stranger hugging me. But then she says, “It’s okay not to know how to feel right now, honey.” And I melt into her arms, returning the hug, nearly biting a hole through my lip as I try not to cry.
“It should take a few days to get the paperwork squared away, but the actual process doesn’t take that long. The whole thing should be done by the start of next weekend. Will you be picking up, or arranging for us to send the remains to you?” the mortician asks.
I haven’t even thought about it. Since I arrived, my phone has been ringing off the hook with callafter call from Tripp. He’s also sent numerous messages that I quit reading, but there’s no way I can ignore him for an entire week. Both situations are becoming too much to handle.