Tell
Me
Every
Lie
P. J. Stanley
Copyright © P.J. Stanley
Copyright © Travis Szablewski
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
promise
Emily Keller combed her fingers through her long, brown locks, smoothing the curled strands behind her ears. The conversations buzzing around her melted into one, the voices circling around her, growing louder and louder as her hazel eyes scanned the bustling dining area inside Joe’s Diner. Emily’s black flats shifted on the tile floor, the bottoms clinging to the sticky linoleum plastered with syrup and dried soda. She never understood what her daughter, Blair, saw in this place. It was always her favorite. After a year in Greece, Blair told her the first thing she wanted was a double patty melt from good old Joe’s.
This had been the longest that they had been apart. Ever since she was born, Blair and Emily had been inseparable. Emily was the center of every mom’s envy during Blair’s high school career. While their sons and daughters were out drinking behind the old windmill on Route 4 or wasting their weekends getting high on the docks at Ivy Lake, Blair and Emily were going shopping, seeing movies, or staying in to binge-watch Netflix and eat bad Chinese food. Emily knew what all the other PTA moms thought of her.
She’s not even acting like her mother.
You can’t be best friends with your daughter.
She understood their envy. She understood their judgment. Not everyone could understand the relationship that she and Blair had. The first time she held Blair, Emily promised herself for the first time that she would never be like her own mother. She would never become Roberta Keller.
Judgmental.
Rigorous.
Uncompromising.
There was no sex talk. There was no talk about the confusion and terror she felt when she got her first period. Roberta was too busy holding the vodka bottle when she should have been holding Emily. But Emily was haunted by the same demons that haunted her mother. The thirst. The addiction. The tip of Emily’s tongue pressed through her chapped lips as she swallowed, her throat arid and scratchy, as her eyes drifted to the couple sitting in the booth across from her own.
Emily’s eyes settled on the beer bottle the woman held, the liquid swirling along the curved edges as Emily watched the woman bring the bottle to her red, pouty lips.
All she needed was a sip.
A taste.
Emily’s two front teeth nibbled on her bottom lip as she reached forward, wrapping her hand around the glass of ice water. She swallowed as the crisp water slithered down her throat. She set the glass back on the red table as a tall, blonde waitress stepped up to the booth, her black apron covered with ketchup stains.
“Are you ready to order yet?” the young woman asked, a fake smile stretching across her face.
“I’m waiting for someone.” Emily smiled and nodded. “Rough day?” Emily asked, motioning toward the red splatters on the black fabric wrapped around her tiny waist.
“You can say that again!” The girl smiled. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get you? An appetizer or a drink?”
“No, thank you,” Emily said, shaking her head and staring at the table as she rolled the crinkled straw wrapper between her thumb and index finger. The young waitress nodded and spun around, zipping around the crowded tables. She couldn’t risk being caught with a drink. Blair thought she had quit drinking entirely. The truth was she hadn’t been to her meetings in two months. She had control now. She wasn’t dependent on the buzz. The stories she heard in group all ran together in her head. It was almost as if the classes made her want to drink more. She knew with Hank by her side, she could kick it fully, someday.
“Mom!” a soft voice rang out, ringing in Emily’s ears as the word crashed through the dozens of other conversations blaring around her. Emily glanced to her left to see Blair Bradley. Blair’s blue eyes were wide with excitement. Her thin arms opened wide as she rushed toward the booth, her long, blonde hair whipping through the air behind her.
“Blair!” Emily smiled, scooting out from the booth as she stood. Blair shuffled toward her, throwing her arms around her mother.
“Oh, my God! I missed you so much!” Blair said as a warm tear streamed down her cheek, her lips quivering with every word she said.
“Trust me, I missed you more,” Emily said as she rested her chin on Blair’s shoulder, hugging her daughter tighter and tighter as she felt Blair’s heartbeat against her own. Emily closed her eyes, inhaling the familiar, sweet, coconut smell of Blair’s blonde locks.
“That was the longest year of my life,” Blair said as she released her mother, removing her shoulder bag as she shifted into the booth seat. Emily sat down across from Blair, scooting to the middle, as she stared back at Blair. She got more beautiful every time she saw her.
“But I bet it was worth it,” Emily said. She reached across the table and cupped Blair’s hands tightly. “Tell me all about it! How was Greece?”
“Mom, it was absolutely beautiful, the Temple of Aphaia and the Maitland Monument. It was like stepping
