A Thousand Lies (20 page)

When she suddenly crossed her arms over her breasts in a protective gesture, he suspected she was remembering the attack. What she’d gone through—what she was still going through was unimaginable.

“I’m sorry, Julie. I’m sorry they hurt you, but they’re your parents. You know they love you, even if they got off on the wrong foot here. Maybe we could just chalk it up to the horrific shock of what happened to their child, and not knowing what the hell to say or do.”

Julie sighed. “I don’t know why you fell in love with me, but I am forever grateful that you did. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.”

“Ditto, darlin’, now open wide. This shake is melting in my hot hands.”

Julie did as he asked, and when the cold, sweet ice cream hit her tongue, she gave him a thumbs-up.

Moments later, one of the nursing staff came in with a tray. Brendan pointed to Julie’s mouth and then waved it away. The nurse nodded and backed out of the room.

Chapter Eleven

Portia March wasn’t in the mood for conversation as she and her son rode the elevator up to Juliette’s room. She made it through the Sunday sermon without hearing a word, although she privately thought if the current pastor was more inspiring, it would have been easier to pay attention.

But the lackluster pastor was the least of her concerns. The truth was that she was scared, as scared as the day when they had come to tell her that her beloved Johnson was dead.

Juliette wasn’t dead, but it was the unknown that was so frightening. What if Lana’s comments had been warranted? What if her granddaughter was so disfigured that she would never be the same? It wouldn’t matter to Portia, but it would to Juliette, and that’s what hurt her.

She was still lost in thought when the elevator suddenly dinged, signaling they had reached their destination. She gripped the handle of her walking cane a little tighter as the doors opened, then allowed Grayson to take her elbow as they exited.

Grayson was anxious. His mother’s color was too pale. He knew she was upset, and he willingly took his share of the blame. He loved all the women in his family and needed to straighten this mess out, no matter what it took.

“It’s this room, Mother,” Grayson said, as he paused outside 322.

Portia smoothed a hand down the front of her favorite summer dress, a pale lilac chiffon, and lifted her chin.

“I’m ready.”

He pushed the door inward. The last thing he expected was to see Brendan Poe sitting on the side of his daughter’s bed, patiently feeding her ice cream. Juliette’s appearance was so horrifying—so shocking—and yet Poe’s expression was one of love and devotion.

He felt shame he’d hadn’t reacted that way for Juliette and envy that he’d never had that with Lana. She’d been chosen as a suitable match, but it was not a marriage of undying love. With Brendan and Julie, that was obviously not the case.

As a father, it should’ve eased his heart to know a man loved his daughter with that much passion. But, as her father, it scared him to death that the man was Brendan Poe. No matter how good Brendan might be, his father was just as evil.

****

Portia’s first look at her granddaughter was one of horror. It sent her heartbeat into a flutter, imaging what Juliette had suffered, but then focus shifted as she gave thanks that she had survived. Today was Portia’s birthday, and Juliette’s rescue was the best present ever. She touched a hand lightly to her heart then stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Brendan heard the taping sound of a walking cane, turned to look, then stood abruptly. They’d never met, but in New Orleans, Portia March’s face was just as familiar as her son, Grayson’s.

“Julie, honey, your grandmother is here.”

Julie wiped a drip of ice cream from the corner of her mouth. “Nonny?”

“Yes, darling, I’m here and I assume this very handsome man feeding you ice cream is your Brendan.”

“Yes, Nonny, this is my Brendan. Brendan, this is my grandmother, Portia March.”

Brendan set the milkshake aside and quickly shook her hand. “Mrs. March, it is a pleasure to meet you. Julie speaks of you with so much love.”

Portia beamed as she patted Julie’s hand. “And the love is returned.”

“Happy birthday, Nonny,” Julie said, and then all of a sudden her chin was trembling, remembering the reality of her situation. “Your present is at my apartment and now I’m going to miss your party.”

“Nonsense! We are not having a party,” Portia said. “I don’t intend to celebrate until you’re there to help me blow out the candles, just as you always do.”

Julie stifled a sob as she clutched at her grandmother’s hand. “Look at me, Nonny. I’m so ugly. I can feel all the marks. I know what he did to me.”

Portia fought back tears, but this was no time to cry. She’d come for Juliette, to tell her what her parents should’ve said last night—what she needed to hear.

“I see you, but you are
not
ugly. You have been wounded, and you have been wronged. My heart is sick for what you went through, but I’m so proud of you, too. It is clear you have survived something horrific. Your body will heal long before your mind lets it go. You won’t forget. Ever. But the day will come when it won’t be
all
you think about, and when that happens, it will be the first day of the rest of your life.”

Julie burst into sobs as Portia took her in her arms.

“Ah, cher… you
should
weep for what happened. Weep for the innocence that is lost. Weep for the pain that devil has caused. Your life will never be the same, but you have this beautiful man beside you. He will help you find your way.”

Brendan was in tears. This was exactly what Julie had needed from her family—permission to grieve. He cupped the back of her head as she sobbed on her grandmother’s shoulder.

“She’s right, Juliette. I’m in awe of your strength. I’ll always be beside you, but I need you far more than you’ll ever need me.”

With those few quiet words, Brendan Poe permanently sealed his place in Portia’s heart.

****

Grayson heard his daughter crying, and then the soft murmur of his mother’s voice, and that’s when he got it. He’d been so elated when they’d found her alive that he’d expected her to feel the same elation. They had not acknowledged the true horror of what she’d suffered because they wanted the ugliness of what happened to go away. Even worse, they had not cried with her in her pain. In their own shock and awkwardness, they must have led her to believe they were ashamed. He knew she didn’t want to see him, but now that he understood why, he couldn’t spend another night with this awful thing between them. Despite the fact that he’d been banned, he entered the room.

Brendan’s head came up like a wolf scenting prey.

Grayson held up his hand in a gesture of peace.

“Juliette, it’s Dad. May I please talk to you?”

Julie felt the tension in Brendan’s hand. All she had to do was say no and he would see that her father left. But she didn’t like being on the outs with her family.

“I guess,” she said softly, then took the tissue Portia handed her and blew her nose.

Grayson glanced at Brendan.

Brendan stared back. “If you’re waiting for me to leave, don’t waste your time because I’m not going anywhere. Say your piece, but you, by God, better not make her cry again.”

“I don’t want him to leave,” Julie added.

Grayson didn’t like being challenged, but accepted that he had Julie’s best interests at heart.

“Julie, honey, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. Your mother and I handled everything badly. All I can say on our behalf is that we were in shock.”

“Yes, well… so was I,” Julie said. “I was the victim of an act of random violence and you both made me feel like I needed fixing before you could parade me out in public again. What happened to me had nothing to do with your elite status in the community, or for that matter, with Brendan’s family. You don’t just owe me an apology. You owe him one, as well.”

“You’re right, sweetheart. Please forgive us for hurting you. It was unintentional because you are our world.”

Julie heard, but didn’t completely believe him. Still, she wanted this ugliness behind them. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you,” Grayson said and lifted her hand to his lips, but he could tell by the look on Brendan’s face, he wasn’t going to be as amenable, even though he owed it to him to try.

“Brendan, I used my disapproval of your father’s lifestyle as a measure of the man you are, and I was vastly mistaken. I said harsh things to you and I’m sorry.”

“So be it,” Brendan said abruptly.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’d also like to put all of this ugly business behind us and want you to know that when I rebuild, your job will be—”

“No.”

Grayson flinched. When the cold glitter in Brendan’s eyes suddenly reminded him of Anson, he knew that was that.

Julie suddenly lunged forward, grabbing the guardrail with one hand as she reached toward Brendan with the other.

He took her hand, surprised by how her muscles were trembling.

“What do you need, baby?”

“I need… I need… uh, Brendan, what time is it?”

Grayson glanced at his watch. “It’s a quarter to—”

Brendan couldn’t help frowning. She seemed distracted, like she’d lost focus in where she was. “Are you in pain?” he asked and was surprised when he felt her muscles jerking beneath his grip.

“Yes, pain. I hurt. I hurt, don’t I? Why do I hurt?”

Grayson felt like a fifth wheel. Brendan knew what she’d meant by that question and he had not, more proof that he was out of step with the woman his daughter had become.

“I’ll ring for the nurse,” Brendan said as he helped her lie down.

Portia waited until Julie settled and then straightened her covers.

“We have talked enough, Juliette. It’s time we leave so that you will sleep.”

Julie wouldn’t argue. The drama had, once again, worn her out.

“Nonny, I’m so glad you came.”

“Of course I came. I’ll be back off and on until you come home, too.”

Brendan reached across the bed. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. March.”

Portia shook his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, too. God bless you, young man. We owe you the world for helping bring Julie home.”

Grayson touched Julie’s shoulder so she’d know where he was. “Rest well, honey. I’ll bring Mother by later this evening and—”

Julie frowned. “Only if she doesn’t talk about what I look like.”

The request was a brutal reminder of how much they had hurt her feelings.

“I promise. And again, I am so sorry, sweetheart. Truly sorry.”

He glanced at Brendan without getting a reaction, then escorted his mother out of the room just as the nurse came in with Julie’s pain meds.

Brendan’s milk shake was half-melted and Julie’s was half-gone. He took a big drink from his as the nurse put the medicine into Julie’s IV.

“Julie, is there anything else you need?” she asked.

Julie shook her head.

Brendan smoothed wisps of hair away from her forehead, careful not to touch the raw flesh as the nurse left.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“I hurt. I’m sorry. I think I keep saying that.”

“Don’t apologize. Always speak your truth.”

“Will you stay with me a while?”

“Yes. I’ll stay with you forever.”

“I love you, Bren.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I love you, too.”

“You’re still mad at Dad, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

She sighed again. “So am I. Maybe that bad feeling I have will heal when I do.”

“Maybe so.”

A few moments passed and he thought she was falling asleep.

“Bren?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you find Count LeGrande and tell him I said thank you?”

Brendan smiled. “That’s already on my to-do list, but I will be sure that he knows you sent a special message.”

She was holding his hand, but her fingers were beginning to lose their grip. When her breathing slowed, he knew she was out.

****

Delle and her sons were finishing off the last of their Po-boy sandwiches, while Linny, who’d quit hers some time ago, was coloring the paper place mat with the crayons provided at each table. Delle smiled absently as she watched the intense concentration on her little girl’s face. Belinda was growing up so fast, a reminder of how swiftly time was passing. Because it was rare for them to have such a light-hearted meal together, she hated to break the mood, but her feet were beginning to throb, and staying much longer was not going to be an option.

Sam leaned over his little sister’s shoulder to see what she was doing and was surprised by the scene she was producing with only four crayons. Not only was she coloring with a smooth, perfect stroke, but she was putting in shading and highlights.

“Hey, Linny, that’s really good.”

Delle smiled. “Amazing, isn’t she? I wanted to get her in a summer art program, but your daddy said no.”

Sam frowned. “Why not? He’s got the money.”

Delle shrugged. “Because I would’ve been leaving Wisteria Hill every day to take her into town, and he didn’t want to be inconvenienced.”

Chance stifled a curse and looked away. He and Sam were just as guilty as their father. They’d been so used to Anson calling all the shots that they had looked away when he abused the power.

“Next summer for sure, okay, Belinda? And if Dad says no, I’ll take you back and forth myself,” he said.

Delle’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why, Chance! That is the sweetest thing.” She laid her hand on the top of Belinda’s head. It was warm from the sunlight coming through the window, and there were bits of it coming down from the ponytail she’d put it in hours earlier. “Would you like that, Linny?”

“Ummhumm,” Linny said.

“Then it’s a deal,” Chance said and tweaked her ear.

Linny blinked and then looked up to see everyone watching her. “What? Are we ready to get beignets now?”

They laughed, and the sound rolled across the little diner, turning more than one head toward the table with the happy family.