The Better Liar(22)

Mary was quiet for once.

I took a long sip.

“You have a baby?” she said at last.

I nodded.

“How old is he?”

“A year,” I said. “It was his birthday a couple of weeks ago.”

“Wow.” Mary sat back in her chair. “Wow. I didn’t know.” She looked at me, her face a little pink. “I mean, I guess I just didn’t think.”

“You’re an auntie,” Dave put in. “Bet you didn’t think of that.” He was being a little forceful. I touched his knee.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I mean, you had to find out sometime.”

“Wow,” Mary said again. “I mean, congratulations. What’s he like?”

Dave relaxed. “Well, he just learned ‘Yikes,’ which I didn’t even know he knew. I was going to tell you about this on the phone,” he said, turning to me. “You must have taught him that, or Ma. I was making the chili earlier today and I put some red chile in it, and he was in the kitchen playing pots and pans and just demanding to have a piece. He was losing his shit. So I gave him one, and he goes—” Dave imitated Eli’s squeak, making Mary stifle her laughter behind her hand.

“He’s not going to ask for that again,” Mary said.

“Sure he will. His first word’ll be chile if I have my way.” Dave stretched, and stopped in the middle. “Hey, do you guys want some of it? The chili? I forgot all about it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh my God,” I said, realizing as I said it. “Yes. I’m starving.”

“Okay,” Dave said, getting up. “Robin, you want some?”

    The sound of her name still startled me, but Mary answered to it easily. “Yes, please,” she said.

“Two bowls. Actually, I want seconds. Three bowls,” Dave said, crossing the room.

“How am I doing?” she asked me quietly. Her hair had dried in a staticky, fluffy halo around her face.

I put my hand over hers on the placemat and squeezed it, once. She grinned.

“I want sour cream on mine,” I said to Dave, whisper-shouting across the room.





15


    Mary


It was the easiest job I’d ever had.

Warren.

Stetson.

May twenty-second.

He didn’t ask me any of those things.

“Why Vegas?” he said, leaning back in his chair. It was past eleven and Leslie was slipping, wine-drowsy. She excused herself to the bathroom.

I could’ve made up something. I wanted to. Something good, to make me seem more interesting, more specific. That’s what I would have done at Letourneau’s, so he’d remember me and come back next time. Or so he’d feel sorry for me, tip me extra. But liars are always specific. People who are telling the truth don’t bother to try to convince you.

“I was bored,” I said instead, picking at a loose stitch at the cuff of my denim jacket.

“In Louisiana?” He was poking for information. Leslie seemed to have told him very little about her sister. He liked me, but he didn’t want to. He was scruffy and loyal, like a dog. He wanted to be on Leslie’s side. Any reason I gave him to dislike me would relieve him.

    I smiled. “Yeah, I was there for a little while.”

“Yeah? What’d you do?”

“You mean, like, job-wise?”

“Sure.” He watched me.

“Bunch of restaurants, mostly,” I said. “I got fired a lot.”

“I waited tables too,” he said. “That’s mostly what I did during college. You really get a feel for humanity doing that shit.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s why I got fired a lot.”

He laughed.

“So you have a kid,” I said, seizing the opportunity to redirect his attention. “You know, I didn’t think Leslie was the mom type.”

“Leslie’s a great mom,” he said.

I had hit a nerve. “That wasn’t what I was trying to—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “No, we’ve always wanted to be parents. That was always in the cards.”

“Does she stay home with him?”

“With Eli? No.” He took a sip of his wine. “We have a daycare for weekdays.”

I frowned. “I thought—”

Leslie came back and flopped carefully into the seat next to Dave. Her cheeks were pink as she leaned forward to kiss Dave’s eyebrow. He made a face, then smiled. “Hey, baby,” he said. “You look ready for bed.”

“I am,” Leslie said.

“Me too,” I said. “Leslie, can you show me where the guest room is?”

“Oh—sure.” She got up, gathering the bowls and glasses and taking them to the sink.

“Dave, thank you so much for dinner,” I said, standing. “You don’t even know how glad I am to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, same,” Dave said. His smile flashed across his face so quickly I nearly missed it.

“Mary,” Leslie said, as we went into the hallway, just outside Dave’s earshot, “thank you. You are doing such a good job,” she added, lowering her voice.