Lies My Girlfriend Told Me Part 17

"What's the matter with him?" He stops wriggling enough for me to open the screen door and let her in.

"He hates me."

She makes a face. "Babies can't hate. Can I help?"

"I'd kiss you if you could."

She presses her arm into mine. "Promise?"

A tingle p.r.i.c.kles my skin.

She takes off her wet parka, hangs it on the doork.n.o.b, and takes Ethan from me. "No llores bebe, todo va a estar bien," she says. Rubbing his back, she coos, "Ya ya ya." It's like a miracle. He instantly stops crying. She nuzzles her face into his neck and I see all his muscles relax.

"How did you do that?" I ask. "What did you say to him? Whatever it was, teach me."

She moves around the living room, stroking Ethan's head and murmuring in his ear in Spanish. "He feels hot."

"He has a runny nose. And he had a cold not too long ago. Do you think he's sick? Should we call the doctor?"

She feels his armpit. "How long has he been crying?"

I glance at the clock on the microwave. "About twenty minutes." Is that all? "Time flies when you're going deaf."

Liana smiles at me. "It could be he's just upset. Could you bring me a cool washcloth?"

While I'm in the kitchen wetting a washcloth, she calls from the living room, "He's adorable. He has your nose."

When did she notice my nose?

"And your gorgeous green eyes."

My cheeks are burning as I hand her the washcloth. She's the one with the gorgeous eyes. She sets Ethan on the sofa and bends forward, tickling his belly. He grins.

He does have my eye color. I always thought my eyes were this unremarkable hazel, but on Ethan, they glow like jade.

I sit on the sofa arm, watching her gently dab his cheeks and forehead. She starts to make a game of it, dangling the washcloth and making him reach for it.

He giggles.

She's good with him. A natural. No wonder she loves babies. "G.o.d, I'm glad you came. He might've screamed for hours with me. Then the neighbors would've called Child Protective Services to remove him from an abusive situation."

She says, "Don't be silly. He would've calmed down."

"You don't know him. He really does hate me. Plus, he's afraid I'll hurt him."

She casts me an odd look. I tell her about the b.u.t.ton incident, and she says, "It was an accident. Babies stick everything in their mouth. Caleb swallowed a penny once, and it took him two weeks to p.o.o.p it out."

"Ew. Who had to look for it?"

"There are some things only a mother can do."

I look at her and we both laugh. She grows serious and says, "About what I told you before. El que diran? I don't want you to get the wrong idea. Family always comes first, and we all embrace and care about one another." Liana stands up and hands the washcloth to me. "You play with him now."

Reluctantly, I take the washcloth. "He'll start screaming." We trade places and I get a whiff of Liana's hair or body gel. Whatever it is, I can't stop inhaling. She's wearing her uniform, and I see goose b.u.mps on her legs. "If you're cold, you can turn on the fireplace," I say. "The remote's on the coffee table."

She presses the On b.u.t.ton while I bop the washcloth up and down. Every few bops I let Ethan grab it. But as soon as he puts it in his mouth, I pull up. Still, he's grinning.

Liana moves to the fireplace and rubs her arms. Her skin is so smooth and brown, and there's more than heat from the flames warming up the room. I ask, "Do you want a sweats.h.i.+rt or something?"

"No, I'll be good in a minute."

"Thank you," I say to her.

She turns around and gazes into my eyes. "For what?"

"Saving my life. And Ethan's."

Liana's gaze stretches on and on. It's like neither of us wants to be the first to break it off. At last, Liana returns to the sofa, bends down, and presses her palm against Ethan's forehead. She says, "He's much cooler. I think he's fine."

I want to say, I think you're fine. Better than fine.

Ethan lets out a little sigh. I touch the tip of his nose and he rewards me with a smile.

Liana trickles her fingertips through his feathery hair. "He really is precious."

He is, actually.

Liana says, "Do you have something to drink?"

I jump up. "Yeah, of course." Where are my manners?

I reach down to lift Ethan but stop because I know he'll cry if I pick him up. His eyes hold steadily to mine and I don't detect a hint of terror. I give it a try and he actually grasps my neck with his little hand.

Liana follows us to the kitchen, slowing to peer out the window into the yard. "I love your house," she says. "Just the feel of it. There was something about Swan's that was... I don't know. Cold. Or twisted. Chaotic clutter."

And I always thought the clutter was cozy. Homey.

"Sorry to bring her up. Let's not ever talk about her again."

"Deal." I feel relieved. Elated. Liberated.

Balancing Ethan on my hip, I check the fridge. Mom must've stocked up before she left. "We have Sprite and Diet c.o.ke. If you're hungry, I could make homemade pizza."

"That sounds fantastic. As long as I get out of here by eight thirty or nine."

"It won't take that long." I hand Ethan to her and pull out all the ingredients for a pepperoni, sausage, and three-cheese pizza.

"Sprite for me," she says.

I lug out the bottle and then retrieve two gla.s.ses from the cupboard. As I set her gla.s.s in front of her, I see Ethan standing on Liana's lap at the table, playing with her earrings.

My breath catches. "Where did you get those?"

"What?"

"The earrings." The ebony b.u.t.ton ones I made for Swanee. "Never mind. I know where."

Liana removes Ethan's hand from the earring. "She said until she could pay off the ring, she hoped these earrings would do."

"I bet she said she made them, too."

Liana doesn't answer.

I almost feel like crying. Then I feel like throwing the measuring cup against the wall. "I made them. For her." If I look at Liana, I'll lose it.

"I'll give them all back, Alix."

"Forget it. They were a gift. She had the right to do whatever she wanted with them."

For a long minute Liana doesn't speak. Then she says quietly, "When do the lies end?"

I close my eyes. Apparently not with death.

Chapter 18.

The phone rings and Mom tells me they arrived. Already? I check the clock and it's almost nine. Time soars when you're eating pizza with a beautiful girl, while your baby brother is safely tucked away in his carrier, sound asleep. Mom asks how things are going and I say, "Great."

"Did you have a hard time putting Ethan down?" she asks.

"Not at all. I've been mainlining him with Robitussin."

"Alix."

I don't want to tell her he's not upstairs in bed yet, since I'm afraid to leave him alone. "We had a good time. He was actually kind of fun." I hear her tell Dad what I said as I smile at Liana.

Liana checks her watch and freaks out. Hustling to the living room, she makes a call on her cell.

Mom says, "If you need anything, you have our numbers."

I'm not going to call because I'm determined to prove to them that I'm responsible and trustworthy. That I am a good sister.

"Your mom?" Liana asks as we both end our calls.

"Yeah. Checking up on me, which was actually a good idea, since you saw what a stellar babysitter I am."

Liana gives me a little push on the shoulder. "You're doing awesome."

"Yeah. Once you showed up."

She says, "I have to go."

"Will you help me put him to bed first?"

She follows me upstairs. As we transfer him to his crib, he whines, but Liana rubs his arm until he calms and his eyelids flutter. I bend down to kiss his forehead. He smells sweet, like baby powder. I've always loved that smell.

As I hover over him, Liana whispers, "Are you going to stay here all night?"

"I thought I would."

"Alix, he'll be fine. You have a baby monitor. Just turn it on and keep the other one with you."

Baby monitor. "Hang on." I pad into Mom and Dad's room to retrieve it. I hope my maternal or paternal instincts are as sensitive as Mom's or Dad's if Ethan wakes up and cries. Or coughs. Or chokes.

Liana heads downstairs with me on her heels. She puts on her parka.

"I can't thank you enough," I say.

"Thank you for dinner. It was awesome. You're now my personal chef."

"At your service," I say with a bow.

The conversation stalls. "Well?" she says.

Well what? Her dark eyes seem to bore right through me. "You promised."

Oh my G.o.d. Does she mean...? My throat is dry and I lick my lips. She does the same, and then takes a step toward me, leans in, and touches her lips to mine. The explosive sensation that travels through me is like a volcanic eruption. How long the kiss goes on is anyone's guess. Eventually one of us breaks it off, and I swear it's not her. She opens the door and slips out before I can even exhale the breath that's seized my lungs.

I must've fallen asleep with the baby monitor to my ear because when I wake up I have a rectangular groove on my cheek. No sounds are coming from the speaker and I think, He's dead. He rolled over and suffocated. I race to his room and find him in his crib, playing with his toes. When he sees me, he starts to bounce and smile. So cute, except he smells like a diarrhea factory.

As I change his diaper, I realize I didn't give him a bath before putting him down last night. He's still got some gunk in his hair from dinner. I decide to feed him breakfast first, so I can wash off all the layers at once.

Ethan's a splasher and soaks my entire front. When I shampoo his hair, I give him curly ringlets, then a faux-hawk. We could do this all day, except the phone rings downstairs. I know better than to leave him alone, even if it is a safety tub.

As I'm toweling Ethan dry, the phone rings again, so I wrap the towel around him and lug him downstairs with me. "Hi," Dad says. "How're things going?"

"Good." Except we broke our bath routine, which will probably scar Ethan for life.

"What do you have planned today?" he asks.

"I don't know. I thought we'd sharpen all the knives."