Deceit by Brandilyn Collins

party for Saturday night.” Her voice lilted, ever so light. “Maybe you can help.”
    “I thought we were going to see some play on Saturday.”
    “Oh.” Linda raised a shoulder. “I asked some friends about it, and they didn’t have very good things to say. I just think you’d be bored.”
    Melissa ran her tongue across her top lip. “How many people are coming? To your party, I mean.”
    “I haven’t decided that yet.”
    “Oh. Who are you thinking of inviting?”
    “Haven’t decided that either. I’ll do that today.” Linda moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a container of orange juice.
    If there had been one thing more prevalent in Melissa’s past life than silence, it would be the lies. So many lies. The world was a wretched place to navigate when you didn’t know false from real.
    Melissa curled her fingers around the edge of the wooden table. “Think maybe the Weekses will come?”
    “Probably not.” Linda grasped the pan’s handle and tipped it one way, then the other.
    “I thought Joanne’s your best friend.”
    “She is. But this dinner’s more for Baxter’s business associates.”
    “You like doing that? Putting on business dinners for him?”
    “Oh, it’s great. I love it.”
    Not once had Linda looked up from her work. In a crazy second Melissa imagined herself stomping over to Linda, pointing at her reddened cheek. Screaming at her to “Stop lying!” Instead she sat in the chair, jaw working back and forth.
    One truth about the world? If something looks too good to be true, it probably is. How naive she’d been.
    Melissa focused on her pink nails. Linda had taken her to a beauty salon yesterday, and they’d both had manicures. Melissa’s nails looked so perfect. Long and painted, with flowers on her ring fingers. But her nails weren’t perfect. They were fake.
    Linda concentrated on the omelet, carefully folding it over with the spatula. “There.” With a satisfied smile she flicked off the gas burner.
    As if an omelet would change what had just happened in her bedroom.
    Melissa rose and pushed the chair up to the table—just so, like she’d found it. Her eyes burned, but her insides burned more. How bad would this get once the Jacksons got tired of doing their “marriage made in heaven” thing? Would Baxter end up hitting her too?
    “I’d live with them in a shack,” Nicole had said at church. “Everybody in town loves them, you’ll see.”
    Melissa watched as Linda slid the omelet onto its plate, then placed the pan in the sink. Every move she made kept her back or right profile to Melissa.
    “How long have you and Baxter been married?” Melissa blurted.
    “Seven years.” Linda squirted dishwashing liquid into the pan and began to scrub. “Why do you ask?”
    Melissa focused on Linda’s hands as she cleaned the pan. Linda’s nails wouldn’t break making any dirty thing shine. They were hard and fake like Melissa’s.
    “Just wondered.”
    Baxter entered the kitchen in suit and tie, ready for his work day. He could have been three men entering, for the energy he brought into the room. Melissa straightened. “Well, hi, Melissa. You’re up early.” His voice sounded as kind and warm as ever. He shot her a winning smile.
    Something inside Melissa loosened, even as she knew it shouldn’t.
    Linda made no comment. She was too busy rinsing the clean pan and reaching for a drying towel.
    “Morning.” Melissa smiled back. “I just…woke up early. I’ll probably go back to bed.”
    “Sounds good to me.” Baxter gave her a wink. He walked to the counter and picked up his omelet and fork. “Thank you, sweetie.” He aimed the words toward Linda. “Looks great.”
    “You’re welcome.” Linda dried vigorously. Her reply sounded flat.
    Melissa faded away from the table as Baxter approached and took a seat. She needed to get out of the kitchen. The last place she wanted to be right now was between these two. Suddenly all the years of seeing her mom