The Better Liar(51)

35


    Leslie


The back wall of my office was a single plate-glass window. The heat was making me sleepy. I had my desk fan turned on full-blast, with makeshift paperweights holding down all my files—stapler, pair of scissors, pencil sharpener. Their edges fluttered as the fan swept across my desk. I rubbed my temples and stood up to get water.

Justin was sitting at his cubicle just outside my door. I leaned over. “I’m leaving a little early today, so if you finish after four o’clock, send it to Paige, not me.”

Justin looked up. “Oh, is Eli okay?”

“What?” I said, turning back.

He pursed his lips. “Is Eli okay? Are you picking him up?”

“He’s fine, why?” I frowned. “I have some things to do about my dad’s estate.”

“Oh, thank God.” Justin laughed. “Not about your dad, obviously. But you’re at Haven too, right? My two-year-old came down with the worst stomach virus and it’s going around. I hope you guys are spared.”

“Oh, how fun,” I said. “I hope so too. And—sorry, I’m completely blanking on her name—”

    “Catherine,” Justin supplied.

“Catherine! I hope she feels better soon.”

“Me too. She’s miserable.” He grimaced. “But at least she’s improving her Spanish. We’ve been watching a lot of Pocoyo while she rides it out.”

I tried to look sympathetic, and turned to head toward the office kitchen.

“Are you guys raising Eli bilingual? Your husband speaks Spanish, right?”

“Yeah.” I turned back and folded my arms. “He does.”

“So how’s Eli doing with that?” Justin grinned.

“I mean…” I shrugged. “He’s only a year, so he’s not very verbal yet.”

Justin tilted his head. “Does he use sign language? I know they taught Catherine some signs at Haven, although she was starting to make sentences by the time Ben went back to work. We found it really useful.”

I didn’t know how much sign language Eli used. “He does enough.”

“Well, if you’re worried about his language acquisition, reading picture books really did wonders for Catherine. They make the connection much quicker and it’s supposed to speed up their reading. We have some old ones from last year if you want to take them off our hands!”

I gave him a vague smile. “That’s really nice of you. We’ve got too much baby stuff already, though. You really have to let them set their own pace.”

“That’s so true.” Justin smiled at me. “Okay, well, I’ll let you go. Sorry for all the baby talk, but this office is so baby-free, I just need to talk to somebody who understands sometimes. I was so thrilled when you said you were going on maternity leave last year!”

I laughed and turned toward the kitchen. I’d spent enough time talking with Justin that it was almost time to leave. In my office, I closed the blinds—something I never did until the end of the day; the striped light from the closed blinds made my office feel cagelike—and gathered my things into my purse.

    The appointment with Albert was in an hour. My neck itched as I got into the elevator.

I couldn’t listen to the radio on the way home. The noise set my teeth on edge. I drove in silence, hearing other people’s music wash over from their open windows.

What if she wasn’t there again?

I could feel my pulse in the hollows of my jaw as I pulled into the neighborhood.

She wasn’t on the lawn.

I parked and went inside.

“Robin?” I called, just in case Dave had come home early.

There was no reply.

I wandered through the hall into the kitchen. Two chairs had been pulled out, but she wasn’t there.

“Robin?”

I heard the television click on. I went into the living room.

“Leslie,” Mary said. “You’re home!”

She was stretched out on the couch in cutoffs and a lacy white top, sneakers still on. Bits and pieces of a pizza littered the empty box and the floor around it, and she’d left a wadded-up napkin on the coffee table. I looked at the TV. A tennis game. The room smelled like weed.

“You’re not dressed,” I said. “Did you bring drugs here? Why didn’t you answer me before?”

She adjusted her top. “You know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“You know what’s funny?” she repeated. “I found out why you weren’t that worried about me blowing it for you with Dave about your job.” She shuffled her dirty sneakers on my couch thoughtfully. “I guess it doesn’t matter if there’s nothing to find out. Since you weren’t fired.”

I swallowed. “I asked you to stop prying into my personal life.”

She sat up. “I came out here because I felt sorry for you, Leslie. Because you said you were about to lose your house. But it turns out you guys are fine. You actually don’t need fifty grand. So why did you tell me all that crap?”

    “Did you call my work?” I asked. “Did you give them a name?”

Mary’s face darkened. “Is it because I’m so cute, is that why everyone assumes I’m a fucking dumbass? I didn’t give them any name. I just wanted to know where you were going all day.” She flopped back on the couch and folded her arms. “Because you don’t tell me shit, Leslie. I went with you out of the goodness of my heart and you are making me question that.”