The Better Liar(56)

I took it from her and, resigned, put it in my mouth and stopped talking.

“Who knew I’d have fancy plans this week?” Albert said. “Ain’t I a lucky bastard. The James & Rodriguez will be gnashing their teeth in jealousy. Well, go ahead, since we’re in a rush; sign the form and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“We really appreciate it,” Mary said, taking the pen.

“Yes, we—” I began, and Mary tapped me on the underside of the chin.

“Don’t talk and chew at the same time, sis,” she said. “You’ll spray me.”

She was about to sign when I thought suddenly, I’ve never spelled out our last name for her, and I seized the pen from her in a panic.

“Ow!” she said, glaring at me. “What’s your problem?”

I made a heroic effort and swallowed the hairy, half-chewed leaf in my mouth. “I think I’m supposed to sign first, because I’m older. Right?”

Albert scratched his head, a tic that caused his shoulders to hunch as if he were embarrassed for me. “Honey, it doesn’t matter. Just sign on any of the beneficiary lines.”

    I nodded seriously and wrote in schoolmarm cursive Leslie Voigt Flores. When I handed the pen back to her I tapped once on Voigt, hoping she’d understand.

Mary scowled at me and scribbled underneath my name. It was almost illegible; no one would have been able to identify a misspelling in the first place. The only clear letters were the R and the V, inscribed in huge narcissistic loops.

Albert glanced briefly at the paper and put it back inside the manila envelope. “Perfect,” he said. “I’ll take this out to Angela.”

“Oh, we can do that on our way out if you like,” I put in. “Since we’re going past her desk. It wouldn’t be a bother.”

Mary gave me a slack-faced look of exhaustion.

“No, no,” Albert said, his sparse eyebrows drawing together. “I can do it, Leslie. Do you need me to show you out?”

“No,” Mary said, cutting me off. “Don’t worry about getting up. Thank you so much for seeing us, Albert. I’m thrilled we’ll have more time to visit together before I go. You’re so sweet for making time.”

Albert sat up a little straighter in his leather chair. “You’re just as I remember, Robin. Your father would be proud of you.”

They shared a warm moment. My face heated; I was drowning in this greenhouse air. I had to get out.

“I’ll go call the restaurant right now,” I said, standing up too quickly, making the chair wobble on its legs. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too, Leslie,” Albert said absently, turning back to his papers. Mary patted his hand. I jerked the door open and walked dizzily into the hallway, sucking in a lungful of dry air.

Mary passed me, moving with the lazy satisfaction of a big cat, and said, “Bye, Mrs. Guzmán!”

“Goodbye, sugar,” Mrs. Guzmán said as I passed her.

I followed Robin in silence to the elevator. It wasn’t until I got in that I realized my mistake and corrected myself mentally: Mary, not Robin.

She straightened her polo dress and ran a hand through her blond hair. It was still rootless, natural-looking. “What’s wrong with you?” she said pleasantly.

    I looked away. “What do you mean?”

“You acted like a crazy person in there. You were pushing too hard.”

My throat burned. I swallowed. “I panicked,” I said, fighting to sound normal. “I thought we were going to get the checks today.”

“What’s a few more days?” Mary said, pulling out a tube of lip balm. “You said it was for your house, right? Are they gonna foreclose this weekend, or what?”

The elevator slid open and I hurried out toward the lobby doors. The light of the late afternoon was nearly blinding through the glass. I blinked hard.

“Leslie?” Mary called from behind me.

I pushed through the doors.





38


    Mary


My phone had buzzed in my purse during the meeting with Albert. Now Nancy’s text floated up to meet me as I glanced at the screen. Can you meet me at the Frontier in an hour and a half?

Yes I’ll be there, I texted back as we turned into the Floreses’ driveway. “I’m going for a walk,” I said to Leslie.

She gave me a startled look. “Well, I have to go pick up Eli,” she said, pulling the parking brake and glancing at the car seat in the garage. “There won’t be anyone to let you in.”

“I’ll just wait for you, then.” I smiled sweetly at her.

Her phone started ringing; she wasn’t looking at me. “Fine.” She got out and headed for the car seat. “Just be back for dinner.”

I didn’t have any intention of waiting around for her to get home, but she took the call before I could tell her that I wouldn’t be back in time for dinner. She could wait around for me tonight. I had things to do. As I made my way across the lawn, I heard her say quietly into the phone, “Yeah, of course. Everything went well.”



* * *



—

I did walk for a while, bored and killing time. No one passed me, and I considered taking the too-white sidewalk all the way to the edge of the neighborhood, where a sandstone wall kept the less enterprising bobcats and coyotes out. If I wanted to, I could scale the wall, or follow the main road out and around to the mountains. I could walk from spring desert to snow, still in my shirtdress.