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Back One White Lie Save as PDF
Chapters (59)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. DEDICATION
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

I ran to catch up with her, the cold air accosting my lungs. ‘Vera, stop!’

She kept on, around the bend, down the road, over remnants of melted snow, toward her place.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Just talk to me, please. I’m sorry.’

It was only when she was in her driveway that she swiveled her head to face me.

‘Get in,’ she said, pointing to her car.

‘What? You’re not thinking straight.’

‘I need another drink, and you’re out of wine. So get in.’ She paused, eyes locking on mine. ‘Or get out of the way.’

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FORTY-ONE

‘Are you sure you’re okay to drive?’ I asked as we cruised down the road.

‘Fine,’ Vera snapped, making the turn toward town.

She didn’t say another word as she wound through Woodstock. past the shops, past all of it. She’s not doing this, I kept telling myself. She’s not doing what I think she’s doing.

But by the time we reached Platform and she slowed down, by the time she pulled into the lot, I couldn’t deny it anymore. She was doing it.

‘Not here,’ I said, voice quaking. ‘You said Sam’s always here. There’s got to be somewhere else.’

‘There’s not,’ she said. ‘And besides, I don’t care. I’m tired of hiding. He claimed every place in this town as his, and it still wasn’t enough.’

Opening the door, she got out, sending a rush of cold into the car.

And I followed her, like I always did.

Behind the bar, a large man poured one beer after the next, sweat pooling in the creases of his neck as if oblivious to the chill outside. From the back, a song I couldn’t make out blared from the jukebox, and I cast a look over my shoulder. A doorway opened up to more rooms – and more people. The place stretched back farther than I realized. Pool table. Jukebox. Old living room furniture permanently retired to the corners of the shitty dive.

Vera spotted two free chairs at the bar, the only ones left, and pounced, her movements purposeful, her long dress kissing the dusty, beer-spilled floor as she took a seat.

‘Come on, Lucy.’ She tugged out a chair so it made a scraping sound on the floor, and I felt like I was going to be sick. ‘Sit next to me.’

I did, my eyes darting back and forth, looking for Sam, feeling fully exposed, but he wasn’t there. Vera shot me a crooked smile. She looked gothic, decadent, as if she made this place different through the sheer force of her presence.

She shrugged out of her poncho and leaned forward, the neckline of her dress buckling, exposing a flash of eggplant-colored lace, the small curve of her left breast. ‘What have you got for red, Joe?’