Hoax in One

| 33 |

Lillian came out the back door and placed a tray of lemonade on the coffee table between us. She'd put actual lemon slices in the tall, skinny pitcher, and the two glasses were a rosy pink with air bubbles in the glass. I gave her an appreciative smile. She didn't need to go through the trouble for me, but I got the feeling she was extremely happy I was there.

"This is beautiful back here," I commented as I poured myself a glass.

Their house sat on a large pond with water spraying up ornamentally from the middle of it. I could just make out the peninsula of a golf course on the other end. The sky was outlined with the trees that lined their lot, casting light shadows over the backyard.

Their back porch was lined with a glass railing and the steps led down to a beige tiled patio and a rounded bean shaped pool. The water flowing from the circular hot tub made a soothing drum. Beyond that, lush green grass stretched down a slight slope until it hit the edge of the pond.

I imagined Tate spent a lot of time out there during his mysterious year away. I could see him floating on his back looking at clouds, swimming laps for exercise, fishing in the pond, playing golf at the course that must have been in the neighborhood because it was that close.

She looked out at the view before she sat in the brown wicker chair to my right. "Thank you. I like to think of it as a slice of our own paradise." Her blue eyes were striking but held so much affection when she focused back on me. "I've heard a lot about you. Of course, only as his best friend. And Tate definitely never mentioned how beautiful you are."

"It's been a bit of a whirlwind semester," I laughed. A deep rose color must have been dusting my cheekbones. "It all happened so fast. Maybe thanks to a lot of outside forces."

I hoped she wouldn't ask me anything further. I fake-dated your son wasn't something I wanted to get into.

Lillian cast a heavy gaze on me like she was trying to decipher me. She quickly looked out at the pond over my shoulder. "Yes, well, Tate and I haven't talked much in the last few months, but now I see that he's loved you in secret for years. I'm so happy to meet you."

"Mrs. Thacker—"

"Lillian, please."

"Oh," I said nervously.

Right, maybe she wasn't a Thacker anymore? My nerves were stretched. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have involved her in this. I still had no idea how to find Tate though. I was way too ashamed to tell her we'd googled their address. But maybe she could still help me.

She searched my face curiously. "No, I'm still Lillian Thacker. You can just call me Lillian."

I laughed a stupid, high-pitched laugh that embarrassed me. "I'm sorry. Lillian. I'm so happy to meet you too, but I didn't mean to barge into your house unannounced. I was hoping Tate was here. Do you possibly know where I could find him?"

"His bed is unmade, so I'm sure he slept here last night," Lillian said. "I was hoping he would be here too, but I would assume he's visiting his father. He lives by his side whenever he's here."

I blinked. My blank face must have registered something for her—that I had no clue what she was talking about.

"He hasn't told you, has he?" she asked me softly. She already knew the answer to her question, but I supposed she was trying to be polite.

We were both silent for a few seconds. I worked my throat muscles, trying to swallow dry sand as I shook my head slowly.

"I don't think he wants to tell me," I whispered. "Whatever it is, I'm not sure he will ever tell me. He left after the tournament. I don't think he has any intention of coming back to SFU, but I don't know how to help him when I don't know what's wrong."