Page 87 of When Lemons Give You Life

Griff

The lamp throws a pool of light across the room. Beyond the door, the facility is dark and still. Scotty’s fork sinks into the sponge cake, the crumb so soft it barely holds together. Today’s lesson is about desserts. His eyes drift to my notebook on my bedside table. He runs a finger across the gold-embossed lettering. “My nan’s name was Lorraine too. She used to tell everyone she invented quiche Lorraine! Swore it was named after her.”

I laugh. “My mum said that at a party once, if I recall.”

“It’s a lovely way to honor her,” he says, finishing the remaining bite of cake.

I nod and turn away, the old sadness settling in.

“How did she die?” Scotty asks.

I pause, watching the wind stir the trees outside. “A genetic kidney disease. Didn’t get a transplant in time.”

The old words chill the air: Please, Griff. Please do this for me.

“Oh. Sorry to hear that. Genetic? Does that mean you and your sister have it too?”

“Thankfully we didn’t develop it, and the risk has passed now.”

“So neither of you was a match for her? That must’ve been heartbreaking. Sorry, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”

My breathing hitches. I’m about to change the subject when a thought stops me cold: maybe I do want to talk about it. It’s haunted me for all these years. I never even told Beau. As he was Lisa’s best friend, I’d already forced him into that impossible space between us, keeping Brent’s truth hidden. I couldn’t load him with any more. But Scotty is someone unrelated. Someone with just as much compassion.

So I straighten my shoulders, take a deep breath and tell him everything.

That I was a match for Mum. And I lied about it.

54

Griff

Scotty stares at me, unblinking. “So you never told Lisa you were a match?”

“Nope. I would have if she needed a kidney, but it never came to that.”

He frowns. “Geez. That’s a lot of secrets to keep. I’ve been worried about seeing Lisa again. Don’t think I could look her in the eye, knowing what I know. I get now why you faked it, I do . . . but how could you put her through this? Make her believe you’re sick? She seems like such a nice person. Always makes me a coffee when I come to walk the dogs.”

Something bitter curls in my gut, slow and sour. “Our relationship was over after Beau and I got engaged, and it was never great to begin with. We had a messed-up childhood.”

“How so?”

“She’s my half-sister, thirteen years between us. Her dad was an abusive bastard who made me feel wrong for everything I am. I spent most of my childhood trying to shield her from him and the rest of it trying to disappear. She doesn’t know what I went through.”

Scotty’s face twists in sorrow. “Oh mate, that’s shit. I’m sorry. But why wouldn’t you tell her?”

“I promised our mother I wouldn’t. Lisa was so young, and Mum thought this was the best way.” A familiar unease passes through me, and I quickly change the topic. “Anyway, she only came back into my life when Beau got diagnosed. I figured she’d stop visiting after he died.”

“But she’s here all the time, thinking you’re as good as gone.”

“You don’t understand what she did.”

“What could be so bad that she deserves this?”

I tell him about the engagement party, the public humiliation, the kiss, the way she looked at Beau like every other straight girl who thought he should’ve been hers. Like I was standing in the way of some fantasy she felt entitled to.

He shakes his head. “And you didn’t speak to her after that?”

“Not for the better part of two decades. Not until Beau got sick.”