Bouquet of Lies Part 23

"Are you telling me you need to eat?"

"No. Just for future reference."

"Duly noted."

It was approaching midnight as they walked along holding their stuffed toys. Without discussing it, they found themselves on the beach, seated not too far from where the tide was rising. The sound of the rolling surf was louder than the background noise of the activity on the pier. Lacey took off her sandals, and with their furry animals set to the side, she and Dan snuggled against each other.

"You know, you redeemed yourself just in time," Lacey said.

"Oh, yeah? How did I manage that?"

"You finally laughed. I was about to add another name to my collection for you. Stoneface."

"That's not so bad. I'm sure the people I ticket call me a lot worse." He smiled and then looked out toward the waves. "This was fun. Not exactly what I planned."

"You planned for us not to have fun?"

He chuckled. "You're always so quick. No. I thought we would eat and talk and share some of our most intimate secrets. All I've learned tonight is that I love being with you. You love to laugh. You could probably pitch for the Dodgers and help them out of their slump. And second kisses with you are even better than first ones."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Well, watch out for the next one."

He laughed and his arm tightened around her. "I've been talking all night. Tell me something I don't know about you."

"Something you don't know? Hmmm. What you see is what you get."

"There's more. I've caught glimpses. You're more complex than you want to let on."

"You think so, huh?"

"I know so. Tell me about your family."

Ugh. There it was. The last topic in the world she wanted to discuss. She kept her head on his shoulder and didn't open her mouth.

"Like talking about them that much, huh?" He glanced down at her.

She breathed in the smell of the sea and allowed the rhythmic sound of the waves to relax her. Why hadn't she come down here more often? She could have brought Darla. Well, when Darla liked being with her. Darla would have enjoyed the sand with the surf rolling and breaking. She could have sketched the people, the birds and maybe even fantasized about the cute lifeguards . . .

"I love my sister," she said. "We're nothing alike." She paused. He didn't say anything. "She was always fragile right from the start."

The breeze blew some hair into her mouth and she pulled it away. She pictured Darla as a young child, so small, taking her hand, a tear trickling down her cheek because of some mean thing Edward had said.

"We had separate rooms since always, but I ended up in her bed a lot because of the nightmares. She had them several times a week. When I heard her cry, I'd go in and fall asleep beside her. She'd sleep until morning then. And me too. I did that until I was older. Then I started going back to my room."

She paused again, her mind reaching into the past to a memory she'd long since dismissed as a dream, but now allowed to surface as something else.

"One night. I think I was six. I fell asleep beside her, but woke up a couple hours later." Lacey dug her toes in the sand and stared out at the black expanse of ocean. "I saw a woman sitting on the foot of the bed. She was hugging Darla and rocking her. Darla was sucking her thumb. Her head lay against the woman's chest and she looked so peaceful. I wasn't scared or anything. It seemed all right. And then the woman turned her head and it wasn't all right anymore. She looked like our mother. At least, the image I still had of our mother in my head, and that threw me into a tizzy because I knew she was supposed to be dead. I scooted back as far as I could and that's when she spoke. She said, 'Please don't be afraid. You're both so beautiful. And I miss you. I miss you so very much.' But she was dead and I didn't understand. It didn't matter how she looked at me or what she said, she wasn't supposed to be there. I pulled my knees up to my face and put my arm there and bit it.

"She tucked Darla in bed and reached her hand out to me, to rea.s.sure me, I guess. But I jerked back. I was really scared and I think that hurt her. Well. In the dream it hurt her, because I decided this was a dream. Otherwise I was looking at a ghost. I closed my eyes and when I opened them it was morning and she was gone. I had a bite mark on my arm, but she was gone. I decided that was as real a nightmare as nightmares could get, and I tried to forget it. Darla didn't mention it, not until much later."

"How much later?"

"A year later, maybe. It's hard to know exactly. The point is, she tried to tell everyone that Mother was alive and we all corrected her. Edward always at the top of his lungs. So then she'd say Mommy was a ghost and Daddy would tell her not to mention it again and I told her she had too vivid of dreams. Mommy wasn't alive and she wasn't a ghost either." Lacey gave a little snort. "Now with the death certificate turning out to be a fake, it seems little mixed-up Darla was right on. And, of course, Harper and Edward knew she was, but they told her she was nuts. I don't think I ever used that term, but I never agreed with her."

"You were six."

"If that was Mom in her room, she probably came more than once. I don't remember ever seeing her again. But she could have. Darla knew what she saw and I didn't back up her story. Even when . . ." She picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers. "Even when I wasn't six. I was ten and the locket showed up. I a.s.sumed Grandmama Harriet had given it to me and I'd just forgotten. But Grandmama would never have put a photo of our mother in a locket. I should have thought of that. But I didn't. I really didn't. And I just went along like everybody else, convinced Darla wasn't in her right mind. Think what that did to her."

"You think your mother gave you a locket."

"She gave one to each of us. She must have."

The salt air made Lacey's eyes sting. She touched a tear at the corner of her eye and sniffled. She realized it wasn't the salt air making her eyes smart. It was the most painful memory she had and it was about to leap from her mouth. She'd hurt Darla as much as anyone. She had to admit that now. Darla's suicide attempt was as much her fault as it was anyone else's.

"One day, a couple years ago, I found Darla in the bathtub. All those years of no one believing her. Maybe that's not the only reason. Maybe she was too sensitive. I don't know. I've never understood her. All I do know is that she's good. And she thinks of others. And she tried not to leave a big mess for anybody to have to clean up. But she was in pain and I always a.s.sumed it was because in reality she knew Mother was dead and wanted to be with her. Anyway, she slit her wrists one night and it was just by chance I happened to go looking for her to talk to her."

"You found her?"

"It was the most horrible sight. The tub was full of so much red water, it looked like she was bathing in blood. I managed to wrap her wrists and all the while I kept telling her, 'Don't you die on me. Don't you dare die.' And I called 911."

It was midnight and the beach was closed. Lacey held her stuffed animal in one arm and swung her sandals with the other as she and Dan walked to his car. They were quiet. Her story had put a somber spin on the evening and she hated that. Laughing was a better way to fill one's time. Kissing too.

"Feel free to disregard that story," she said.

"As long as I can feel free not to disregard it as well." He didn't smile. He was being serious. Too serious.

"I'm sorry I ruined the fun."

"You didn't. I asked. I'm glad you told me."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. But now it's time to put Mr. Serious Guy away and lighten up. Can we do that?"

They were at the car now. He looked at her across the Challenger's roof, his face solemn. Suddenly he gave her an exaggerated grin. "You mean like that?"

She laughed. "Well, sorta. Only for real."

"Bona fide non-seriousness." The car chirped indicating the doors were open and he hopped in.

She hopped in, too. "Good one. Point taken. Are we headed to your place now?"

He looked at her. "Are you serious?"

"Well . . ." She laughed. "Okay. You've won the play on words game. Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home."

Her brows dropped. "Why?"

"Because this evening was perfect and I want it to end that way."

She didn't understand. She looked at him for a moment, then turned and tossed the stuffed monkey in to the backseat. When she turned back he placed a hand under her chin. His touch was gentle, but electric.

"At the risk of bringing back Mr. Serious Guy, I'll try to explain."

She waited.

"I could take you back to my place. I've had one-night stands before."

"You think I want a one-night stand?" Now she was doubly confused.

"That's not what I'm saying. I don't want a one-night stand, a one-month stand, a four-month stand, a however long whatever."

"No one can predict-"

"I know." He sighed. "What I'm trying to say is . . ." His eyes sought understanding in hers. "There's a time for, what should I call it? Lighthearted intimacy. But not the first time when you really want to be close to someone. I want to know you."

An almost o.r.g.a.s.mic sense of vulnerability swept through her. It scared her.

He continued. "s.e.x too soon, it's like a torpedo. It destroys the wrong things when it's detonated at the wrong time."

"But what a way to go." She laughed.

"Okay. Okay." He started the car. "Jokes are more comfortable for you than raw honesty."

She put her hand on his. "I heard you. I get it."

He left the car in park and looked into her eyes. "I hope so."

She smiled. And then she grinned. "A torpedo, huh?" It was something to look forward to. s.e.x as powerful as a weapon of ma.s.s destruction. She placed her chin upon his shoulder. "And what about our next kiss? Do I have to wait for that?"

He leaned in and they kissed and Lacey was certain she heard bombs bursting in air.

Twenty-two.

AWAKE IN HER bed, Lacey dreamed of Dan. Six kisses. Yes, she was counting. That's all they'd had so far. And whatever his timetable was, whatever plan he had up his sleeve, it was working. She'd never wanted anyone more in her life. And she was also never more willing to wait for anyone in her life. Now there was a contradiction in desire if ever there was one.

She rolled to her side and looked at the clock. It was two in the morning. For more than an hour she'd been reliving the evening: Dan's lips, his arms, broad shoulders, his embrace, his words of philosophy. She reached for the cell phone which she'd ignored up until now to see if he might have sent her a text and found that she had two from Courtney: Wher R U?, and then, ISO friend.

She texted Courtney: Ticket Master has new name. WMD XOXOZZZ.

That would pique her interest. What would arouse Dan's? Her fingers. .h.i.t the keys: Picturing U, Me. Waiting for the world to end. XOXOZZZ.

She chuckled and rolled over and realized that while she'd heard from Courtney, there'd been no call, no message, from Tiffany. Now was the perfect time to try to reach her. Everyone answered a ringing phone in the middle of the night.

Everyone apparently, except Tiffany and Honey. The answer machine picked up once again. This time she left a message. "Your youngest Bouquet daughter is getting married. We need bodies at the ceremony. Can we count on you? Call me." She left her number.

Lacey got a good thirty minutes of sleep before a yelp reached her from across the hall. It took a second to transition from visions of Dan dancing in her head, to the realization that Darla was in the midst of her recurring nightmare. She raced to Darla's bedside.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's this?" Lacey wrapped her arms around her sister. "I thought life was going great. Prince Randy hasn't chased those bad dreams away yet?"

Darla sniffled. "Don't joke."

"I always joke."

"Well, don't." She clung to Lacey. "I was back in the box and the box was floating in s.p.a.ce."

"A variation, this time."

"I don't know. I don't know." Darla started to cry. "All I know is Randy doesn't love me anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"In the dream I was in the box, but it was an invisible box and I could see Randy through the gla.s.s and the box was chained and he took out a gun and shot the chain and the box floated up to the stars and I was alone, except I could hear his voice. He was telling me goodbye."

Lacey started to stroke her sister's hair and ran into the headband. She removed it and tossed it onto the dresser.

"Hey." Darla pushed up and leaned toward the dresser. "Randy gave me that."

"Doesn't mean you have to sleep with it. It's probably giving you a headache. Maybe it triggered your dream. Besides, you said he doesn't love you anymore."

"But I love him."

"Of course, you do. But if I know anything about infatuation-"

"It's not infatuation. This is real."

As real as a mirage, Lacey wanted to say, but didn't.

Darla lay back down. "I shouldn't have said no."

"You didn't. You said yes."

"Not about getting married. About shooting a gun."

Okay, this was getting weird. "What gun? He wants you to shoot a gun? At who?"

"At the shooting range. He wants to teach me because of what happened to Dad."

"He wants you to shoot Mom?"

"No!" But the statement gave Darla pause and she was quiet for a second. "He just wants to be sure I can defend myself in case something happens."

"So he's giving you a gun?" Darla with a gun. That was a chilling thought. Edward had a couple in the house, but they were locked away somewhere, and Darla had never shown any interest. Why would Randy really want Darla to have a gun?