Page 15 of The Lies I've Told
“Jimmy said something to that effect. In fact, his exact words were, ‘Be careful with that one.’”
Her eyes drifted across the lot where our pilot was doing his best to blend into the darkening sky. He slipped into his car and was buzzing away in no time.
Smart man.
“Look, not that it’s any of your business, or Jimmy’s—God, I hate this town—but I am fine. Totally, completely fine.”
I cleared my throat as she began to walk away in the direction of her vehicle. “Clearly,” I said, still enjoying the view.
Even if it was a little crazy.
After we loaded my luggage in the car and set forth for the inn, things got quiet.
And then they got awkward.
Awkwardly quiet.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, she spoke, “Look”—she let out a long sigh—“I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this hostess thing. Never have been.”
“Kind of an awful career to pick then, don’t you think?”
Her eyes briefly met mine before focusing back on the road. “What? Oh no. That’s my sister you’re thinking of. The inn is hers. Well, it belongs to the whole family, I guess, but Molly runs it.”
“And you are?” I asked, realizing I still didn’t know her name.
“Millie.”
“Your parents named you Millie and Molly? That’s quite terrible.”
“I think they were going for cute. But, yeah, it’s pretty terrible.”
“So, where is Molly now?”
“In the hospital. In labor. Or at least, she was.”
“She’s having a baby? Now?”
Nodding, she smiled. “She had one. This afternoon. A beautiful baby girl named Ruby. Or so I’ve been told.”
“You haven’t been there? To the hospital?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Ocracoke is a tad remote. The closest hospital is about two hours away and requires an hour-long ferry ride across the sound.”
Things were starting to become a littler clearer in regard to her bad day.
“And you’re the one left behind to pick up the British bloke from the airport then?”
She nodded, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Not really left behind. I flew in from Florida to help, so that is what I’m doing. Helping.”
There was a distinct sort of sadness to the way she’d said it. Maybe she was sad she was missing out on such a monumental family moment. Maybe it really was an epically bad day.
Or maybe she simply needed alcohol, like me.
We pulled into a driveway. I took a moment to look around, noticing the pristine landscaping and beautiful entryway.
“How about you offer me a little of that help by showing me the closest bar?”
I heard the car click back into gear as a sly smile spread across her face.
