Tell Me No Lies

“Don’t.” In a rare display of public affection, he picked her up and twirled her around. “No negative thoughts. Nothing’s going to spoil this for me. Nothing.”

JACKHAMMERS WERE GOING OFF in his head. He sneezed into his handkerchief, then blew his nose. Frankie was ready to smash somebody’s face in as he rode the Iverton bus to the outskirts of town. Trixie wasn’t here. How could she not be here?

He’d scoured the place for her. First, he’d gone to her grandmother’s house. The shingles were new and the porch refurbished, and somebody else owned the place. Grandma Addie was gone. No loss there. She’d hated him….

Get out of here, you’re not welcome.

Trixie says I am.

You’re not right in the head. Leave her alone.

And when they’d gotten in trouble she’d screamed at him again. You crazy bastard. You corrupted her. She was a good girl until you came along.

He’d told the old biddy to go to hell. Trixie was his, and he could do anything he wanted with her. Hadn’t she told him that, in the letters stuffed in his duffel bag?

The ugly industrial scenery of downtown Iverton rolled by. He’d checked out the diner where she had worked all those years ago. They had new owners, too, who didn’t remember any Trixie Lawrence.

Now, he was headed to the south side of town. That bitch Janey, who was always trying to interfere, always trying to protect Trixie from him, for God’s sake, had ditched this place, too. But her old boyfriend, Teaker, still lived here. He might know something about Trixie.

Frankie got off at Farrell Street and walked up the hill; the bartender at Crane’s Beer Hall had told him where Teaker lived. Man, what a dump, Frankie thought as he found the shack. An old man tottered out.

“I’m lookin’ for Teaker. The guy at Crane’s says he lived here.”

The man came closer. “I’m Teaker. Who are…holy shit, Frankie, is that you?”

Frankie knew his mouth dropped. “What happened to you?”

“Fifteen years, Frank. You look older, too.”

Can’t be as bad as you. He ran his fingers through his gray hair, noticed the veins in his other hand were more pronounced. “I guess.”

“I had some bad times. Not as bad as you, though. I never went down. How’d ya hold up in there?”

“Letters. From Trixie.”

“I thought she was in the can, too.”

“Got out after a while. She wrote me every day from here. That’s why I’m back.”

“Trixie? She ain’t living in Iverton no more.”

“I don’t get it.” Frankie cocked his head and thought hard. The pain, which had started to recede, instantly came back. “Got any beer?”

“Yeah, sure. Come onto the porch.”

Frankie sat on a rickety chair under an overhang. Once he chugged some ale, he could think more clearly. “You ever hear from Janey?”

“Shit, no. She married some doctor and went to live in New York.”

His heart began to beat fast. “New York’s a big place. The city?”

Teaker lit a cigar and sat back. “Nah. On a lake, I think.”

“There’s a shitload of lakes in New York.”

“I dunno which one.”

“Who might?”

His old drinking buddy raised his bushy gray eyebrows. “I think there was somethin’ in the paper a while back about her doctor husband getting a grant to find a cure for some disease.”

“Yeah? Who’d know about that?”

“Maybe Mrs. Fox.”

Frankie recognized the name of the librarian he and his buddies used to terrorize. “Hell, she ain’t dead yet?”

“She’s too mean to die, Frankie.”

“You remember Janey’s new name?”

“Nope. But the article could tell you.”

Frankie finished his beer and crumpled the can in his fist. Promising to bring up a six-pack later that night and reminisce about old times, he left.

No way was he going to come back, though. He wouldn’t waste his time with that loser when he could be looking for Trixie. Frankie still couldn’t figure out all those letters coming from Iverton, if she hadn’t been here.

He found old lady Fox at the library. She was ancient now and just as nasty. Everybody in this hick town treated him like dirt. Everybody was always after him. The bitch turned him over to her younger staff member, who found the article on the computer for him.

He read it anxiously.

Janey Lawrence…Christopher.

Married the up-and-coming doctor, had two boys.

Bingo! In Orchard Place, New York.

Almost as an afterthought, he googled the husband. The guy had a freakin’ Web site for his practice and the grant thing Teaker told him about. It also had a section on family. He clicked that link. There was Janey. Older, heavier, but Janey all the same. She had Trixie’s looks, but Trixie was prettier. He waded through photos of the kids, the colleagues. The last picture was a family shot of all the Christophers. And arm in arm with Janey was her sister. Tessa. God he hated when people called her that. He stared at the different hair and clothes, but she had the same eyes, mouth and features of his beloved Trixie. He’d recognize that face anywhere. Glancing around, he printed off the picture.

Frankie smiled all the way to the bus station. If Janey was in Orchard Place, chances were her sister would be there. Those two were like Siamese twins. And Janey had hated Frankie with a passion. She’d tried every way she could to break them up but never could.

At the bus station, he bought his ticket. The attendant told him it was a ten-hour ride from Iverton to Orchard Place, stopping several times. But Frankie didn’t care. He was gonna see Trixie. He might have to bitch-slap her around some for not staying put, but after that there’d be pure bliss.

Finally, him and Trixie were going to be together again.

CHAPTER FOUR

TESSA ARRANGED FOOD at the picnic table on the patio of her sister’s home, where the family had gathered for their Memorial Day picnic. The sun was shining and the sky was cloudless; a warm breeze wafted over her, carrying the sweet sound of chirping birds, making this a halcyon afternoon.