Family of Liars(37)

“That’s not who you are.” But Tomkin is distracted by the plate of orange cake Tipper has just handed him. He wanders off, shoving forkfuls into his mouth.

I drink from my teacup again. The room blurs.

“Did you have a chocolate-covered strawberry?” says Erin, who is Cher. “Oh my god, you have to.”

“I like your hair,” I tell her.

“Penny did it,” she says, touching a braid.

“No, your person’s hair.”

I drink more from my teacup and let the edges of the world go soft. George and Yardley stand in front of me now, holding hands.

“I’m thinking my guy is some kind of serial killer,” says George, who is Charlie Chaplin.

“How come?” I ask.

“Everyone hates him. I mean, me.”

“I hate him with a passion,” says Yardley. “Pfeff hates him. Major hates him.”

“You’re very talented at what you do,” I tell George, meaning Charlie Chaplin. “You, maybe not so much,” I say to Yardley, who is Kermit the Frog.

George complains that he doesn’t know the name of any serial killers, so how can he possibly figure this out?

Yardley laughs.

I drink from my teacup.

Yardley tells me, “White looks very good on you.”

“I’m wearing blue.”

“No, on your person. It looks good on your character.”

“But who am I?” I say. “Tomkin loves me.”

“No telling,” says Harris to Yardley as he walks over. He pats me on the back. “You finding yours hard?”

“A little.”

“I know I’m Beethoven,” he says. “But I’m pretending to be puzzled to please your mother.”

I drink from my teacup.

Tipper is next to me now, looking concerned. She is not playing the game, just supervising. “You okay, Carrie?” she asks. “You look— Well, Daddy gave you a cocktail or two, didn’t he?” She points to my teacup. “That tea is decaf. Do you want some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll get you one.”

She bustles off. The room tilts. I walk over to Major, who is sitting on the couch, alone. He leans forward obligingly so I can read the sign on his back. He is Paul McCartney. “I love your accent,” I tell him.

“Pfeff called me a disgrace.”

“Oh, no,” I say. “You’re just a little mushy, that’s all.”

“Does that mean I’m not Hitler?” says Major. “I’ve been worried I was Hitler.”

“Not Hitler,” I tell him.

Uncle Dean sits down across from us. “I am obviously Sherlock Holmes, but I don’t want to be the first person to go sit outside.” He grins at Major. “I heard you on the radio this morning.”

Suddenly, I am no longer on the couch but leaning against the bookshelf. “Are you a little drunk?” Pfeff is saying to me. “Is that possible?”

“Show me your sign,” I say.

“I just showed it to you.”

I don’t remember. He shows me his back, apparently for the second time. He is Pablo Picasso. “Do you mean my character is a little drunk or do you mean I myself am a little drunk?” I ask him.

“The latter,” says Pfeff. “But whatever. So am I. Oh, here’s a question.”

“What?”

“How do you feel about your sister now?”

“Penny?”

“No, I’m talking to—” Pfeff gestures to the card on my back. “The person you are tonight.”

And now I am sitting with Bess, squashed together in an easy chair. “Yardley told me white looks good on me, too,” says Bess, who is Marilyn Monroe. “Do you think she’s saying that to everyone?”

“No,” I tell her. “Just you and me.”

“Okay, are you ready? Here’s a clue,” Bess says.

“Ready.”

“I like your little green friend.”

“My what?”

“Your little green friend.”

I drink from my teacup. It is nearly empty. Tomkin climbs on top of me and Bess, sitting on our joint laps. “You don’t know who you are yet?” he asks me.

“No.”

“But you’re the best guy!”

“What about me?” says Bess. “Am I the best guy, too?”

“I have no idea who you are,” says Tomkin. “But you’re a lady.”

And then I am with Penny, over by the stereo, and Tomkin and Bess are at the dessert table, eating shortbread. My cup is empty, so I set it down on a windowsill.

“Apparently I have a lot of sex appeal,” says Penny, who is Elvis Presley. “You have sex appeal as well, I should say.”

Her face is blurry but I force myself to focus.

“Are you drunk, Carrie?” she asks me sharply.

“No.” I force myself to look at Penny directly—and reel back. We didn’t sit near each other at supper. This is the first time I’ve been close to her since she came down in Erin’s black turtleneck.

Her pale cream hair shines against the dark shirt. And she is wearing the black pearls.