Love in his Lie

Friendship

"Well, she seemed... nice." Betty's smile was wide, though it didn't meet her eyes.

"Really," said Brendan with a sardonic laugh, "because she seemed kind of like a..."

"Brendan," snapped Randall.

"What?" he asked, with a defensive spread of his hands. "What did you think I was going to say? If it was something bad, then you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking it too."

Randall replied with a roll of his eyes.

"She is nice, though," added Justin with a nervous smile. "Real nice, I promise. She's just had a long plane flight, and it's been rough for her back in Germany..."

"Who cares?" asked Lucy. "I mean, you didn't even bother to introduce us."

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"Why apologize," said his young sister with a shrug. "It's not like we're going to see her again." Then she turned her big brown eyes back to my quiet corner of the conversation, finding me small and square, hoping I could blend in with a pillar. "Now, let's move on to important things, like the wedding! We all know about Dani. We all love her, so let's cut the crap and get this party started."

I gave her a shaky smile and my lips fumbled with a response, but a large hand placed itself against my back. The touch was familiar and soothing.

"Come on, Danielle, I'll take you and Justin home." Wes gently nudged me forward to where Justin still stood, close to the exit that Franziska had so recently departed from. "I'm sure my brother is tired from his flight and us ambushing him certainly didn't help."

"Oh Wes, what would I ever do without you?" Justin batted his eyes at his brother with mock admiration.

"Go get your bags before they cart them off as lost luggage," answered Wes with a firm jab into his brother's shoulder.

"Can I come to?" asked Lucy, with a small whimper in her voice.

"Sorry Luce," answered Wes, "but I've got a lot of work piled up in the back seat. It would be tight in there. Don't worry, I'll see you tonight."

"Okay..."

"All right, let's go," said Justin as he maneuvered a few suitcases towards the door.

"Take care," said Betty with a disappointed sigh. "We'll talk later."

The rest of the family said their goodbyes as we slipped out onto the busy airport avenue. Crossing over, we found ourselves in the parking garage and located Wes's polished black car. I noticed that not only was the outside of his car flawless, but so was his pristine back seat, free of clutter and any sign of work related material.

"Thank you," said Justin with a sigh as he reached for the passenger side door. "They wouldn't have ever let us leave if you hadn't pulled us out."

"Don't you want to sit in the back with your fiancee?" asked Wes as Justin opened the front door.

"Oh, well... I was opening it for her," he stammered, gesturing for me to take the coveted front seat.

"You two don't want to sit together?" asked the skeptical brother. "Don't worry, I won't judge you for getting cozy. Just save the more graphic displays of affection for when you get back to your place."

I noticed the growl of annoyance in his voice. Seemed to me sitting up front was the best course of action for everyone. But Justin, in his panic, may have missed the sour note in his brother's timbre.

"Well, if it won't bother you," he said, shutting the front door and opening up the back. "You first, my love."

"Right," I muttered, feeling dirty as his words of admiration touched my skin. "Thanks."

I slid in and took the far seat. Justin kept to his side as well, though after a few fumbled attempts, he eventually found the nerve to grab hold of my hand and kept them clasped together between us in the middle seat.

We drove in silence for this first portion of our ride. Justin looked out the window, while Wes cast quick glances at his rearview mirror, his gaze clearly not intended for the cars behind him. No longer capable of enduring the unruly tension between the three of us, I broke the ice.

"So, how was your trip, Justin?"

"Oh well," he said, his voice bright and eager, "remember how I told you about my last trip where I finally saw the East Side Gallery and had checked off everything on my tourist bucket list?"

"Yeah," I answered, excited to hear more.

"Well, I decided now was the time to break past the confines of tourist approved locales and get to know the true side of Germany. So my first stop was..."

One reason I had initially fallen for Justin was his ease in holding a conversation. I didn't need to give much input. All he required was for me to lie down the track of discussion and he could drive the train by himself the rest of the way. Asking him about his trips had always been the easiest way to get him going, and he'd often spend a whole half hour talking my ear off while I worked in the back of the bakery.

As he told me about his excursions outside the city to find a town full of breweries, it reminded me of what had enthralled me in the first place. However, this time I realized that what I was feeling was the same type of connection I held with Mindy. I didn't want to lose Justin's friendship, but I no longer needed him as a conduit for my romantic frustrations. With them diverted elsewhere, a platonic ease existed between us and I wished it to stay that way.

"We're here," said Wes, interrupting Justin's story about foolishly challenging a native to a drinking contest.

"Ah, so we are," he remarked, looking out the window with disappointment stretching his youthful face. We sat a few blocks from the bakery in an area known for its upscale condos and designer brand shopping. "So how long do I have before we need to drag ourselves to dinner?"

"No one said you'd be at dinner," said Wes. "I just said I would be. I'll tell them you wanted to spend the night catching up with Danielle. They'll understand."

"Of course," he said, his uncomfortable smile returning to his face as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "We should get to that, then."

I swallowed hard, unbuckling my seatbelt before being pulled along by Justin out onto the sidewalk. Once out, he hugged me closer, lying his cheek against my head as he waved to Wes and thanked him again for his help.

Before the eldest son headed back down the street, he cast his gaze over to me, his brow bent with something between apprehension and disappointment. I gave him a meek smile and a wave that only manifested itself in the curl of my fingers. With a deep breath, he turned to the road and headed out, leaving me behind, desperately wishing that I was driving away with him.