Page 8 of This is Why We Lied

Dave mumbled, “Sounds like Delilah all right.”

Mercy felt her teeth clench. Delilah hadn’t been surprised to find her brother in a wheelchair, which meant she already knew about the accident, which meant that they had talked on the phone. The question was, who had made the phone call? Had she been invited here or just shown up?

As if on cue, her phone started to ring. Mercy slid it out of her pocket. She saw the caller ID. “Bitty.”

Dave said, “Put it on speaker.”

Mercy tapped the screen. Her mother started every phone call the same way whether she was calling or answering. “This is Bitty.”

Mercy answered, “Yes, Mother.”

“Are you kids coming for family meeting?”

Mercy looked at the clock. She was two minutes late. “I sent Jon into town. Fish and I are on the way.”

“Bring Dave.”

Mercy’s hand was hovering over the phone. She had been ready to hang up. Now her fingers were trembling. “Why do you want Dave there?”

There was a click as her mother ended the call.

Mercy looked at Dave, then at Fish. She could feel a fat drop of sweat rolling down her back. “Delilah’s going to try to get Jon back.”

“No she ain’t. Jon just had his birthday. He’s practically an adult.” For once, Dave was the logical one. “Delilah can’t snatch him away. Even if she tries, it won’t go to court for a couple years, at least. He’ll be eighteen by then.”

Mercy pressed her palm to her heart. He was right. Jon acted like a baby sometimes, but he was sixteen years old. Mercy wasn’t a serial fuck-up with two DUIs trying to ween herself off of heroin with zanies. She was a responsible citizen. She was running the family business. She’d been clean for thirteen years.

“Guys,” Fish said, “are we even supposed to know Delilah’s here?”

Dave asked, “She didn’t see you when she came up the lane?”

“Maybe?” Fish was asking, not telling. “I was stacking logs by the shed. She was going pretty fast. You know how she is. Like she’s on a mission.”

Mercy thought of an explanation that was almost too awful to speak. “The cancer could be back.”

Fish looked stricken. Dave took a few steps away, turning his back to them both. Bitty had been diagnosed with metastatic melanoma four years ago. Aggressive treatment had put the cancer into remission, but remission did not mean cured. The oncologist had told her to keep her affairs in order.

“Dave?” Mercy asked. “Have you noticed anything? Is she acting any different?”

Mercy watched Dave shake his head. He used his fist to wipe his eyes. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and Bitty still doted on him like a baby. Mercy couldn’t begrudge him the extra affection. His own mother had abandoned him in a cardboard box outside a fire station.

“She—” Dave cleared his throat a few times so he could speak. “She would get me alone and tell me if it was back. She wouldn’t spring it on me at a family meeting.”

Mercy knew this was true, if only because Dave had been the first person Bitty had told the last time. Dave had always had a special connection with her mother. He was the one who’d nicknamed her Bitty Mama because she was so small. When she was fighting cancer, Dave had taken her to every doctor’s appointment, every surgery, every treatment. He was also the one who’d changed her surgical dressings, kept up with her pill regimen, even washed her hair.

Papa had been too busy running the lodge.

Fish said, “We’re missing the obvious.”

Dave was wiping his nose with the hem of his T-shirt when he turned back around. “What?”

Fish supplied, “Papa wants to talk about the investors.”

Mercy felt like an idiot for not thinking of this first. “Do we have to call a board meeting to vote on taking the money?”

“No.” Dave knew the rules of the McAlpine Family Trust better than anyone. Delilah had tried to force him out because he was adopted. “Papa’s the trustee, so he gets to make those decisions. Besides, you only need a quorum to call a vote. Mercy, you’ve got Jon’s proxy, so all he needs is you, Fish and Bitty. No reason for me to be there. Or Delilah.”

Fish anxiously looked at his watch. “We should go, right? Papa’s waiting.”