Lie, Lie Again(7)

Now she knew. It was Embry.

She leaped from the sofa and jogged to her room. Sure enough, when she sniffed the candle, Embry filled her senses. She snapped the lid onto it, trapping the scent, and left her room. It had to be a coincidence. That’s all. She wasn’t trying to copy Embry. Rose was one of the most common scents. Besides, it wasn’t weird for friends to end up trying one another’s perfume or lipstick shade. Girls shared stuff all the time. Even bathing suits, although Riki would never do that. Way too much potential for serious germs. But they don’t share husbands! Way too much potential for . . . Riki shook her head. For what? Poisoned cookies?

Shut up!

She needed a distraction. It was late for a weeknight, but what the hell? She grabbed her phone and began scrolling down her text messages until she landed on Chris.

Hey. You awake?

She stared at the screen, not sure if she really wanted to see the dots that meant he was replying or not. He’d only be a temporary fix, like eating fast food when you were starving but then wishing you’d waited to have something better.

Yeah. You wanna come over?

Can you come here instead?

And now he was DoorDash. She bit her lip.

Yep. Be there in ten.

Her finger hovered above the screen before she typed a reply. Three kissy-face emojis. It was the right response. Cute. Simple. And she wanted to kiss him. She really did. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t want to tug on his lips with her teeth as she trailed her fingers down his naked chest, snaking them to the button of his jeans, making him beg for her, the way she dreamed of doing with Brandon. She set her phone on the nightstand and went to brush her teeth. As she squeezed toothpaste onto her toothbrush, the pesky voice of reason seemed to pop out of the bathroom drawer.

You’re being stupid.

She slammed the drawer, but the voice refused to be quieted.

You’ll lead him on.

You’ll get hurt.

Well, so what? I’m allowed, she thought as she rinsed her mouth. She was only twenty-five, not forty.

Yet Embry was twenty-four. And married. And a mother times two.

Maybe this was a bad idea. She couldn’t imagine Embry hooking up with some guy for comfort sex.

But she wasn’t Embry.

And Chris wasn’t just some guy. They were dating.

She turned her head down to brush the underside of her straight hair before flipping it back. It had become a habit, but not a very effective one. Her hair looked puffy, not full and luxurious like in the shampoo commercials. Not like Embry’s. She ran the brush through it again, which got it right back to where she had started. Rowan, her older sister, had been blessed with a thick mass of chestnut curls, presumably from their maternal grandmother, though now Grandma Willet’s hair was cut short and kept in place with half a can of hair spray. When she was little, Rowan had told her that Grandma Willet was the reason for the hole in the ozone layer. For years, Riki had felt a residual guilt that someone in her family had caused such damage to the planet, and she’d always made sure to pick up trash at the park and turn off all the lights every time they left the house. It wasn’t until sixth grade, when her teacher taught an earth science unit, that she’d realized Rowan had been joking. How many other things had Rowan joked about that Riki had believed to be true? She looked at her reflection in the mirror. What would Rowan say about the thing with Chris? It’d be nice if they had the kind of relationship where they talked every day, eager to share even the most mundane details, but the truth was, they weren’t close. It didn’t help that Rowan was halfway across the world. She’d decided to travel all the way to Australia to get her master’s degree in sustainability, whatever that meant. She’d probably say, “Seriously, Riki? Either you like him or you don’t. Why the drama?”

But it wasn’t so black-and-white in her mind. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts, and she took a breath before opening the door.

Chris had his hands tucked in the pockets of his stiff jeans, attempting a cool stance. It was charming despite the forced effort. “Hi,” he said, darting a kiss to her lips.

She took his hand and led him inside.



Jonathan parked half a block from the apartment complex, a good distance between the streetlights. Their glow was shrouded by heavy fog, but he couldn’t be too careful. He didn’t want the tenants to know he was back in town, crashing at Ma’s old place for the night. Easing from his car, he tugged the hood of his sweatshirt into place and stole across the long driveway, keeping his head down as he crept to the second-floor apartment.

Shucking his sneakers by the door, he padded to the kitchen in his socks. Not that he cared about getting the floors dirty. This wasn’t his place. He chuckled at the irony. Correction: this wasn’t where he lived. And he didn’t want the tenants below to call the police because they’d heard an intruder. As he filled a glass with water, he wondered if Ma had asked him to come back all those months ago so she could give him the paperwork for the complex. He wished she would’ve said more. But with her, it was always the dangled carrot, and he didn’t have time for that.

When she’d asked him to come home, he’d been across the country in New York visiting a friend. She hadn’t told him she was dying. It was a voice mail saying she wanted to see him about something important. How the hell was he supposed to know she was near the end? When he returned for the funeral, he found a note she’d left for him on the table by the door. In her annoyingly perfect handwriting, she’d written, I wish you would’ve come around more. And I hope you find a nice girl.