Lie, Lie Again - Stacy Wise Page 0,58
There had been the late nights and extra acting classes. Were those real or a cover? She scrunched her hands into tight fists as she pictured Brandon on their wedding day. His smile had been so big, it’d reached all the way up to his eyes. There’d been tears of joy too. Those kinds of feelings didn’t just up and disappear, did they?
She pounded a fist to her leg. All these harebrained ideas had to be hormones coupled with flat-out fear over having a third baby. She could barely manage two kids. How on earth was she going to manage three? Kylie needed her attention all the time. And Carson was twenty-four seven. She sank to the kitchen floor and clutched her knees to her chest, burying her face in them.
If Brandon was acting weird, it was because of the soap. It had been his big chance, and it was gone. He’d be a bartender and brunch server forever, struggling to make the rent month after month. He’s never going to stop making martinis with an extra stupid olive, she thought. That was the kind of frustration that could drive a man to the edge. But she wouldn’t let him fall. She’d do whatever it took. They’d made promises to each other, and she wasn’t about to break hers. If the finances were causing him to worry, she’d find a way to help. And if it were something else . . . well, she refused to let her mind go down that road again.
She smacked the linoleum floor with her hand. It was an ugly shade of yellow, but it was the cleanest floor in town. She knew how to clean. That was something. Maybe she could become a housekeeper. It’d be easy enough to bring Carson along. She could set up a playpen and he could . . . She smacked the floor again. That wouldn’t work. Her eyes roamed the kitchen, searching for something. Anything. She needed a lifeline.
A stack of mail sat on the counter next to one of Brandon’s Hollywood magazines. Standing, she flipped it open and landed on a page near the end. It was filled with classifieds. She skimmed down, reading ads seeking wedding DJs, dog groomers, and guitar players. Her eye was drawn to one in all caps: CHARACTERS NEEDED FOR BIRTHDAY PARTIES! JOIN THE FUN AND HONE YOUR SKILLS! Huh. Maybe she could dress up as a Disney princess and work the party circuit. But those costumes looked tight and uncomfortable. Not unlike those terrible pageant dresses she’d worn to make her mama happy. How dare Brandon suggest they get Kylie on the circuit? He’d said it only to rile her up.
She sighed. Something had to give. Besides, no one would hire a pregnant party princess. The door rattled, and Kylie burst in with a large piece of green construction paper in hand, followed by Brandon. “Mama! Look,” she said, waving the paper near her face. “I make a pot of gold!”
Embry took the paper. “Wow, sweetie. This looks great. How did you get the gold pieces to stick?”
“We used glue, Mama!” she said, throwing her hands in the air as though using glue was reason to celebrate.
“I have just the spot for this,” Embry said, tacking it to the refrigerator with a ladybug magnet. “There. It looks perfect.”
Kylie beamed. Brandon, who had lingered near the door, approached the kitchen slowly, a hesitant smile on his lips. “Hey, darlin’. I thought it might help if I brought Ky home and saved you the drive. I know we’re a little early, but . . .”
She drew her eyes to him and kept her voice light for Kylie’s sake. “That’s okay. Thanks.” The urge to say more sat on her tongue, growing more and more bitter by the second. It seemed he was trying, but she wanted him to say the words with a proper apology. Didn’t he know that? She stood waiting, wishing he could read her mind, but his expression was blank. Shaking her head, she said, “I should go check on Carson. He’ll be up any second.”
“Right. Okay. I’ll help Kylie with a snack.”
She walked stiffly toward their room. The baby wasn’t awake yet. It had been an excuse. Waking him wouldn’t do any good. She stopped and turned. “Hey, Ky, why don’t you go potty and wash your hands before we get your snack, okay?”
“Okay, Mama!” Kylie sang. “I go potty like a big girl!”
“That’s right!”
Once Kylie was out of