The Better Liar(21)

I can’t do it, I thought suddenly. He’ll know right away.

I couldn’t get out of the car.

“Lights,” Mary said nonsensically beside me. I looked wide-eyed at her. “Camera. Action!” She gave me a smile. At some point she’d put lipstick on. When had she done that?

Dave had reached the driver’s-side door. He pulled on the handle, then knocked on the window and waved at me. I fumbled to unlock it. “Hi,” he said when he’d gotten it open, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. “How are you?”

I tried to focus on what I’d say if I were coming home alone. “Tired,” I said, touching his cheek. His stubble scraped my palm. “Hungry.”

“Good. I made chili. You must be Robin,” he added, coming around the car to take Mary’s duffel bag from her.

    “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said. She was doing the same accentless voice she’d used earlier, in the mirror. It sounded fake to me, but Dave seemed undisturbed. “Are you Dave? It’s so nice to meet Leslie’s husband.”

“Yeah, you too,” Dave said, heaving the duffel on his shoulder. “Come in, you can get something to eat. How was the trip?” he asked over his shoulder as he led the way to the front door.

I tensed.

“Nothing to tell,” Mary said. “I ate a lot of Pop-Tarts. Your house is so fancy,” she exclaimed as she stepped over the threshold.

“Thanks,” Dave said. “We like it.”

I followed them into the house, glancing up at the wrought-iron chandelier in the entryway as I almost never did. I hadn’t thought of it as being fancy in a long time.

“So Leslie said it took her a while to find you,” Dave said, coming back down the stairs and heading for the kitchen. His tone was casual, but I could read the sliver of his face visible over his shoulder as he opened one of the cabinet doors.

“Oh, do you have wine?” Mary asked.

There was a brief pause before Dave followed her gaze to the cabinet, which held a line of Viognier glasses. “Yeah,” he said. “Oh, sure. White okay?”

“That’s fine.”

He went to the refrigerator as she sat down at the breakfast nook. I leaned against the island countertop. “Yeah, she was kind of in the middle of nowhere outside of Vegas,” I said. “No cellphone or anything. I had to call the landlord.”

“Oh, but it was so funny,” Mary broke in, accepting her glass of wine and grabbing Dave by the arm. “She had been hanging out at my place all day waiting for me, and when she finally got tired and went to get a bite to eat, guess which place she chose.”

“Your restaurant,” Dave said, going to the counter for two more glasses and brushing against me.

“Yes! Well, not exactly, but it’s the one my boyfriend works at, and I was just there keeping him company. We ran into each other outside. You should have seen her face.” Mary re-created the face for him.

    Dave glanced at me and I tried to smile. “You guys had a good time, huh? You went out drinking?”

“Oh my gosh, you should have seen her,” Mary told him. “Does she drink a lot at home? No, right? You guys have glasses for wine and everything. Well, she matched me shot for shot.” She gave a hoarse chuckle that was nothing like her ordinary laugh; it was carefully unfeminine, designed to contrast with her lipsticked exterior. I realized all at once that she wasn’t doing an impression of Robin. She was waitressing. It was that simple.

The tension seeped out of my shoulders.

Dave was grinning as he handed me my glass of wine and took a sip himself, settling into the breakfast nook next to Mary. “Nah,” he said. “I’ve only seen Leslie do a shot once. And I knew her in college.”

“You knew me in grad school,” I protested, coming over to join them.

“Oh, were you the tequila champ of ’09? I just missed your partying days?”

I laughed. Mary glanced between us. When she caught my gaze, I saw a triumphant flicker in hers, which disappeared as Dave spoke again.

“No phone, huh? Are you against technology?”

“Technology is against me,” Mary pronounced, pressing her free hand to her chest. “I cannot hold on to a mobile device. I’ve dropped them, put them in the washer, flushed them…I mean.” She sipped her wine. “Leslie bought me a new one,” she added, as if it had just occurred to her. “On the trip. It was really sweet.”

“Not a smart one,” I said, as Dave looked at me. “Just an old flip one. It wasn’t much.”

“Yes it was!” Mary exclaimed. “It was really—Oh, sorry!” She interrupted herself as Dave shushed her. “Is someone else here?”

“Just Eli,” Dave said, lowering his voice. “We don’t want to wake him up.”

    “Who’s Eli?” Mary asked, looking from me to Dave.

Dave laughed. “No—Eli! Didn’t Leslie…”

Mary frowned.

“You didn’t tell her about Eli?” Dave asked me.

“I didn’t have time,” I said.

“Who’s Eli?” Mary asked again.

“He’s our kid,” Dave said. “It’s past his bedtime, so…”