The Truth About Air & Water (Truth in Lies #2) Read Free Page A

life because she is without a doubt the best part of me.”
    “I think you’ve just said your vows.” Pastor Dan looks elated while Linc looks pretty much spent and I am still somewhat shaken by the enormity of Linc’s words.
    I withdraw my hand from Linc’s and wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand. Linc affectionately tucks a stray hair strand back behind my ear and tiredly smiles at me.
    And the world seems right again for about fifteen seconds.
    “I have a cancellation in the middle of July next year. Let me see, yes, Saturday, July 19th, is open. Other than that we’re booked solid through November of next year. Not as many requests in the winter months here after that other than at Christmastime. What works for you?” Dan asks easily. “I’d love to marry the two of you.”
    “Next July? That won’t work for us,” Linc says without hesitation shaking his head. “I’m going to marry Tally a lot sooner than that.”
    “It’s less than a year away,” Dan says. “Tally? You don’t want to wait until next July?” The pastor asks, looking surprised.
    “Noooooooo,” I say. The disappointment at hearing Linc’s automatic no and essentially answering for both of us without even asking me first stings. How far out the date itself is manages to whoosh through all of me too. Damn.
    “I think we’re done here, Dan . Thanks for the tour and the clarity.” Linc gets up and shakes the guy’s hand and starts for the door.
    I slowly follow him in a daze.
    What just happened?
    July of next year.
    That’s what just happened.
    It’s the middle of baseball season. July doesn’t work, and Linc doesn’t want to wait. So why would I?
    I wistfully glance back at the church. Pastor Dan waves at us from the top of the stairs like before, but looks a little bewildered as to why we are leaving him so soon.
    “Too small. Too long of a wait. Next July? Come on, Tally. Please. It’ll be the middle of baseball season. That’s not going to work at all. Let’s go.” Linc shakes his head side-to-side as he retrieves the car keys from his pocket. “It’s a beautiful place, Tal. I’m glad we came, but it’s not going to work for us.”
    “Yeah, it’s beautiful.” I look out the side mirror as we drive away from the epic view of the Pacific and Pastor Dan’s beautiful little church at Half Moon Bay. I should be elated by most of what Linc just said back there, but all I feel is this extraordinary sense of loss at the overriding thought that he wants a son and I can’t give him one. There’s that.
    It’s just like they say. You’ve got your fingers in the dike preventing the dam from breaking, but it’s only a matter of time before it does. That’s how water works. That’s the strength of water. You can’t stop it.
    “We could adopt.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
    “We could.” Rote words. He’s said them but doesn’t really mean them. The underlying anguish with his wish for a son is unmistakable, and he won’t quite meet my gaze when I look over at him even when he says, “let’s just see what Dr. Eldon says first; huh? Maybe it’s a non-issue.”
    But it is an issue. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me.
    “Maybe.” I turn away from him and look in the rearview mirror just in time to get the last glimpse of the amazing view of the Pacific just before it disappears.
    Beautiful things are like that, extraordinary one minute, gone the next.
     
     

     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TWO
    Where I Stood -TALLY
     
    Lincoln Davis Presley once told me how important it is to watch for the line drives. A line drive in baseball is a technical term—a pivotal moment in baseball when the batter drives the ball straight out toward the pitcher’s mound with a thwack of his bat. When this happens, the crowd generally holds its collective breath and then ultimately sighs while finding itself somewhat morbidly fascinated yet somewhat appalled at the