Читаем The Liar полностью

“How could your sister live with Matherson for years and not know what he was?”

“Let me ask one back. Is your client a reasonably intelligent individual?”

“I’d say he is.”

“How did he manage to get himself swindled? You’re going to want to move along now, and you don’t want to drive back down this road again. That’s literal and metaphorical.”

Forrest walked back to his truck, waited until Privet drove away. Then he drove himself the short distance to his family home, parked so he’d be there when Shelby told the family her story.

11

Confessions and truth telling exhausted the body and the brain. When Shelby dragged herself out of bed in the morning, she realized she’d start her day already worn down.

It was hateful to disappoint the people who’d raised you. She thought of Callie, wondered if one day she’d do something stupid and wake up with this same dragging sensation.

Odds were pretty good on that, so Shelby vowed to remember this morning, and to try to give her daughter a break when the time came.

She found Callie, still luckily too young to do something really stupid, sitting in bed having a cheerful conversation with Fifi. So Shelby dived in for a morning snuggle that pulled her mood up a notch or two.

She got them both dressed, then took Callie downstairs.

She put on the coffee, decided she’d make up some of the ground she’d lost with her parents the night before by making French toast—and the poached eggs her father favored.

By the time her mother came down, she had Callie settled in her booster with some sliced banana and strawberries, with breakfast well on the way.

“’Morning, Mama.”

“’Morning. All bright and early, I see. ’Morning, my sunbeam,” she said to Callie, and crossed over for a kiss.

“We get to have eggy bread, Gamma.”

“Do we? Why, that’s a special morning treat.”

“Nearly done,” Shelby told her. “I’m poaching some eggs for Daddy. Do you want any?”

“Not this morning, thank you.”

When Ada Mae walked over to pour coffee, Shelby turned, wrapped her arms around her mother from behind. “You’re still mad,” she murmured.

“Of course I’m still mad. Mad doesn’t turn off and on like a light.”

“Still pretty mad at me.”

Ada Mae sighed. “That part’s on a dimmer switch. It’s easing down some.”

“I’m so sorry, Mama.”

“I know you are.” Ada Mae patted Shelby’s hand. “I know. And I’m trying to come around to it being the situation you were in, and not that you didn’t trust your family to help you.”

“It was never that. Never. I just . . . I got myself into it, didn’t I? Somebody raised me to face my own troubles and deal with them.”

“Seems we did a fine job there. But not as fine a one on teaching you troubles shared are lessened.”

“I was ashamed.”

Now Ada Mae turned, took Shelby’s face firmly in her hands. “You’re never, never to be ashamed with me.” She glanced over to where Callie was busy with her sliced fruit. “I could say a lot more, and likely will when there aren’t little pitchers with big ears close by.”

“Pitchers don’t have ears, Gamma! That’s silly.”

“It is, isn’t it? Why don’t I fix you a piece of this eggy bread your mama’s made up.”

Clayton came down, dressed for the day in one of his habitual white shirts tucked tidily into his khakis. He walked to Shelby, gave her a knuckle rap on the head, then kissed it.

“Looks like a weekend breakfast in the middle of the week.” He got out a mug. “Sucking up?” he asked Shelby.

“I am.”

“Good job.”

•   •   •

SHE DID HER BARTER DAY with Tracey and took the girls to the park so Emma Kate could come by, have a little picnic with them on her lunch hour and finally meet Callie.

“When I was a little girl, Emma Kate was my very best friend, like you and Chelsea.”

“Did you have tea parties?” Callie asked Emma Kate.

“We did, and picnics just like this.”

“You can come to Gamma’s house for a tea party.”

“I would absolutely love to.”

“Gamma saved Mama’s tea set so we can use it.”

“Oh, the one with the violets and little pink roses?”

“Uh-huh.” Callie’s eyes rounded owlishly. “We have to be careful not to break it ’cause it’s deliquit.”

“Delicate,” Shelby corrected.

“Okay. We’re going to swing now. Let’s go swing, Chelsea!”

“She’s beautiful, Shelby. Beautiful and bright.”

“She’s all of that. She’s my very best thing. Emma Kate, do you have some time after work? There’s some things I still need to tell you. Just you.”

“All right.” Since she’d been expecting this—or hoping for it—Emma Kate already had a plan. “We could take a hike up to the Outlook like we used to. I’m off at four today, so I could meet you at the trailhead at maybe four-fifteen.”

“That’d be perfect.”

Emma Kate watched Callie run around the swings with Chelsea. “If I had somebody like that depending on me, there’s a lot I’d do I wouldn’t do otherwise.”

“And a lot you don’t do you would do otherwise.”

“Mama! Mama! Push us. Push us, Mama! I want to go high!”

“Takes after you,” Emma Kate commented. “You could never swing high enough.”

With a laugh, Shelby stood up. “I’m sticking closer to ground level these days.”

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