All the Lies We Tell Read online

  Niko rubbed again at his head. He could still taste Allie. Still hear the soft, breathy moans she made when he touched her. Looking at his brother, he waited to feel some kind of guilt about what had happened, but if it was going to hit him, it was taking its sweet time. That was the thing about water under a bridge. It could get caught up in a bunch of debris, or it could sweep everything away, leaving nothing behind; it all depended on the ferocity of the storm.

  Without answering, Niko followed Ilya down the front stairs, back into the formal living room, where the small group of friends who’d come to honor Babulya had thinned to one or two. Theresa was still there, along with another familiar face he hadn’t seen in a long time.

  “Barry?”

  Theresa’s father turned from his conversation with Galina. “Niko. Hey. Ilya. Hi, good to see you. Wish it was under better circumstances.”

  They shook hands briefly. Niko gave his mother a look, trying to gauge how she felt about the sight of her ex-husband, but she appeared serenely unmoved. Theresa, on the other hand, looked as though she’d eaten something that wasn’t sitting very well.

  “It was nice of you to come, Barry.” Galina smiled. “You know, my mother never liked you.”

  Barry didn’t seem put off by this, but then he’d been married to Niko’s mother, and it would hardly be a surprise if he knew exactly the sort of woman she was. “I didn’t come here for your mother.”

  That little exchange seemed like the cue for everyone else to start leaving. Ilya took on the role of handshaker and gratitude giver, accepting hugs and putting on his most sincere face to listen to everyone’s condolences. Niko and Theresa exchanged a look. She shrugged. Niko stood by his mother. At least she wasn’t crying.

  Later, when the house had cleared out and Theresa had started to clean up while Galina and Barry were still talking in muttered whispers in the corner, Niko found his brother standing on the back step. Ilya tipped his head back to look up at the cloudless night sky littered with stars. They stood in silence together for a few minutes.

  “You should put on a coat or come inside,” Niko said finally. “It’s cold out here.”

  Ilya slanted him a look. “Thanks, mother hen.”

  “Okay, then, forget it. Freeze your ass off. See if I care.” Niko shrugged and leaned against the door frame, drawing in a few frosty breaths. He’d endured worse weather than this, of course. A hundred times. But there was nothing quite like how it felt to be back home on this back porch, looking out across the yard to the straggly patch of trees beyond.

  He’d kissed Allie for the first time in that backyard, right over there. Under a sky something like this. He should have kissed her a hundred times back then. If he had, they wouldn’t be groping each other in the attic, praying nobody caught them.

  “Never expected to see Barry,” Ilya said after another minute had ticked by.

  “Nope.”

  Behind Niko, the door opened. Theresa poked her head out, saw them, then came out the rest of the way. She let the door hang open for a moment so they could hear Galina’s rising voice.

  “Hey,” Theresa said with a grimace. “Brrr, it’s cold out here. Finally.”

  Before she pulled the door closed, another shout pierced the night air.

  “Man, she’s really letting him have it,” Ilya said with a glance at Theresa, who shrugged.

  “He shouldn’t be here,” she said.

  Behind her, Niko nudged the door open again, cocking his head to listen as his mother’s tirade grew louder. The tone of it changed, something more desperate in her voice, and he was moving before he thought of it. Ilya behind him. Theresa, too.

  “Don’t you blame me for that!” came Galina’s shout from the other room.

  Niko moved forward, thinking to intervene, but Theresa snagged his sleeve. She shook her head. He gave her a look.

  “He deserves to get his ass handed to him,” Theresa said. “Your mom can handle herself.”

  “Don’t you blame me for your bad choices!” Galina continued, getting louder. She was heading for the kitchen, and there was nothing they could do but stand there and pretend they hadn’t been eavesdropping. Not that Galina seemed to care as she flew into the kitchen with Barry on her heels. She whirled, facing him as he tried to grab her wrist. “Don’t you dare touch me. You come here, to this house and try to put your hands on me? My mother died!”

  “That’s why I’m here!” Barry looked like he meant to reach for her again, but at the menacing way both Ilya and Nikolai stepped forward, he stopped. Barry looked uncomfortable, avoiding their eyes. “I came out of respect, Galina. And because you asked me to.”

  The brothers shared a glance. Galina had put herself in this situation. Not a shocker. Ilya rolled his eyes. Theresa saw the look and sighed, rubbing at her arms against the chill coming in from the outside.

  “Barry, you’d better go,” Niko said.

  Barry, whose cheeks had gone high with a hectic crimson flush, kept his eyes on Galina. “We aren’t done.”

  “Oh, yeah. You’re done.” Ilya stepped up to grab at Barry’s sleeve, but the older man moved easily aside.

  Barry held up his hands. “Fine. I get it. You still hate me. But you’re the one who invited me here, Galina. You don’t get to play the martyr now.”

  “I’m uninviting you,” she said coldly, her gaze bright and piercing. Nobody crossed Galina when she looked like that. Nobody who was smart, anyway.

  Niko had never thought Barry was particularly smart, but he took two steps back.

  “Fine. I’m going.” Barry looked at Theresa, who very carefully did not return the gaze. He held out a hand to Niko, who took it automatically to shake, then Ilya, who didn’t. “Sorry about the ruckus.”

  “Just go,” Ilya said.

  Niko started toward the front door. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “We all will,” Ilya said with a subtle clench of his fists.

  If there was going to be any trouble with Barry, Niko and Ilya were going to take care of it. Galina might be an instigator, a pain in the ass, but she was their mother. At the front door, Barry grabbed his coat from the closet and put it on. He turned to face them, making a move as though he meant to hug his daughter. She casually and with grace stepped away, not making a big deal out of her avoidance—making it seem like a coincidence, even—but Ilya must’ve also noticed, because he moved between her and her father.

  “Good night, Barry,” Ilya said. Barry left without another word. Ilya shut the door behind him, then turned to Theresa. “What the hell?”

  She shrugged, crossing her arms. “I have no idea. He said she invited him.”

  “She probably did,” Niko said.

  Theresa shook her head. “Whatever. He’s gone. I should go, too. It could be awkward now.”

  “You’re welcome to stay,” Ilya put in, surprising Niko, who wouldn’t have thought his brother gave half a damn what Theresa or anyone else did tonight. “It’s late.”

  She hesitated, her glance going back and forth between them. “I’ll help clean up. If your mom seems weird about it, I’ll go. Okay?”

  Galina had moved from the dining room into the living room, where she had a bottle of beer in one hand and was flipping through a photo album with the other. She looked up as they came in, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed.

  “Look, Theresa, here are the pictures from the day I married your father.” Galina patted the sofa beside her, and Theresa, with a look at Ilya, sat next to her. Galina took a pull on the bottle. Like Ilya, she was more charming when she was drinking, and Niko felt a small rush of relief that at least she was no longer shrieking. “It was nice of him to come, wasn’t it? He doesn’t look very good, though. He hasn’t aged very well.”

  “Mom,” Ilya said. “What the hell?”

  “He doesn’t take good care of himself,” Theresa agreed, not sounding annoyed. “I’m surprised you invited him, though.”

  “When someone dies, you do what’s right.�