Lie, Lie Again(2)

Her instincts had been right about Hugh. He was free of both. She smiled at him from across the table before returning her gaze to the headlines. One in the bottom corner caught her eye. “Mad cow disease was found in a cow in San Diego,” she read aloud. “That’ll do wonders for the meat industry.”

“Huh?” He adjusted his glasses and looked at her.

“Mad cow disease,” she repeated. “It says here that humans who consume the contaminated beef could be at risk of developing prion disease, which is . . . blah, blah, blah . . . Ah, here! ‘A degenerative brain disorder that can quickly disable or kill its victims.’ Well, that sounds delightful. Do you think the cows literally go mad?” She chuckled. “Bumping into each other and mooing incoherently before they keel over? I mean, it’s kind of sad but funny too.”

“There’s nothing funny about mad cow disease, though it’s rare for humans to get it. If I recall correctly, they would have to consume infected tissue or some such.”

Sylvia smiled. “It’s rare? Do you see what you did there?”

He chuckled.

“Anyway, we should become vegetarians.”

Hugh thumped his paper to the table and slid off his glasses, awarding her with an amused look. “We’ll drink green juice and eat pounds of kale.” A kitchen timer buzzed, and he stood. “Or we can indulge in buttermilk biscuits. They’re vegetarian and they’re ready.”

“You are a prince among men. I’ll get the butter and jam.” As she took the jam from Hugh’s tidy refrigerator, her mind trailed to the cows. How could a cow go mad? They didn’t deserve to suffer that way, though some humans she knew might.

Well, even if Hugh thought she was joking, she was going to stop eating meat for the foreseeable future. Going mad by way of eating beef sounded dreadful. Sanity was something she treasured. Besides, it wouldn’t be too difficult to give up meat. She was already faking it for the neighbors in order to avoid a repeat of the dreadful cheesy-beef-and-tater-tot casserole that Embry had brought over for no discernible reason several weeks ago.

“It’s just the neighborly thing to do,” Embry had explained in her syrupy southern accent when Sylvia had inquired as to the occasion.

“It looks delicious for the meat-eating crowd, but I’m a vegetarian. What a pity,” Sylvia had responded, assuming an appropriately disappointed expression. “But you should enjoy it with your family. I’m sure it’s Kylie’s favorite!”

Kylie was three. And really, did anyone over three enjoy tater tots? Embry was sweet but dim. Hopefully she wouldn’t get any bright ideas and show up one night with a quinoa-and-collard-greens casserole. Sylvia grimaced as she brought the jam and butter to the table.

Hugh transferred four of the biscuits to a plate, his hands tucked into large black oven mitts. “Here we are. Piping hot,” he said as he delivered the biscuits.

Sylvia plunked one onto her plate and sliced it open with a knife, quickly slathering butter across the middle so it would melt into the doughy nooks. She began to spoon thick jam on top. “What is this? It’s all coagulated.” She laughed as she poked her spoon at the glop. “It looks like cat guts.”

“Sugar-free,” he said absently. “Lil—” He stopped abruptly and forced a cough into his closed fist. “Ahem. Wrong pipe. Anyway, what I was saying is, there have been a number of articles lately about how less sugar is better.”

You almost said Lily. Sylvia stiffened but forced herself to soften her shoulders along with her expression. “Less sugar is better.” She took a bite of gooey goodness, but it might as well have been tar. Her hackles were up. This was the third time he’d mentioned his ex in a week. Lily. That meek woman who walked as though her bones were healing from fractures. They had bumped into her a few weeks ago at a coffee shop. Hugh had stood to hug Lily when she’d timidly approached their table, her overcast eyes darting to Sylvia.

“Lily! What a surprise to see you. This is Sylvia, one of my coworkers.” His tone had grown deeper, like he’d switched to his office voice. “We’re having a quick briefing before we meet with Jeff.”

Lily had perked up, though her eyes still looked like rain. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” Shifting her gaze back to Hugh, she said, “I decided to run out for a coffee, since Hunter is with my mom.” She sounded apologetic, like getting coffee was a crime.

After she scurried away, Hugh tipped his head close to Sylvia’s. “Sorry for lying about the work thing,” he whispered, his stubby lashes fluttering. “She’s an ex.” He circled his finger next to his ear, indicating Lily was nuts. “If she thinks I’m dating again, she could very well do something desperate, like harm herself. Or me, for that matter. I don’t want to feel responsible for her crazy.”

“You’ve never mentioned a crazy ex-girlfriend.”

He smiled. “I’m not supposed to, right?” Leaning back, he added, “At least, that’s what I read in a magazine. It would lead you to think I have questionable judgment.”

“Interesting theory. What makes her crazy? She seemed painfully normal.”

He sat up straighter. “I’d rather not bad-mouth her. Besides, I don’t have to worry about you. You’re tough, not a fragile flower like—” He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Like I was saying, we should include the goal-analysis matrix in the report.”