Listen for the Lie(23)

Three of them I know—Marian, a pleasant woman with (fake) bright red hair and a smile that freezes in place every time our eyes meet; Betsy, who has a helmet of curly gray hair and tells me exactly how many calories are in the brownies she brought (285 per square—“these are not diet brownies!”); and Peggy, a very short woman who follows me into the kitchen, tells me which wineglasses to pull from the cabinet, and then washes them even though they look perfectly clean to me.

Janet’s new. She’d moved to town five years ago, so we never had the pleasure of meeting. She looks nervous as she shakes my hand. I can’t blame her.

Marian does actually make tea—very good tea—but it’s obvious that the wine is the main attraction here. She gives us all a mug, and then Peggy hands out the wine in the now extra-clean glasses.

I take a glass of wine when it’s offered to me but take only tiny sips, because I’m a lightweight. I don’t need to get day drunk with these ladies.

Mom is on the couch with her broken leg stretched out in front of her, and Peggy settles down on the other end. Janet and Betsy take the love seat, and I sit in a chair from the kitchen table with Marian.

Peggy frowns as she sips her wine. “I can’t remember—is Lucy short for Lucille?”

I shake my head.

“It’s just Lucy, then?”

“Yes.”

Peggy raises her eyebrows like she disagrees with my parents’ naming choices. I glance at Mom, but she’s smiling pleasantly. I grab a 285-calorie brownie from the coffee table and take a bite. It’s a damn good brownie.

“These are amazing,” I say. Betsy beams.

Marian looks at Mom. “How are plans for the birthday party going?”

Mom sighs dramatically. “Oh, it’s fine, I guess. Mom’s no help, though. She just keeps asking what kind of cocktails we’ll be having.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Janet says, and drains her wine. Betsy refills it for her.

“It’s been quite an ordeal calling everyone in the family and getting them here on such short notice,” Mom continues. “I’m wondering if this whole shindig was a bad idea.”

“Of course it wasn’t!” Janet says. “It will be lovely to have your whole family in one place again.”

“You’re helping your mom, aren’t you?” Peggy asks me accusingly.

“Lucy’s been very helpful,” Mom says quickly. “But she couldn’t help with the calls. Some of my family would be very startled if Lucy called them up suddenly.”

“I can’t imagine why,” I say dryly.

Janet looks horrified. Betsy shifts, clearly uncomfortable. Peggy appears delighted.

“Oh stop.” Mom takes a long sip of her wine. “We’re all thinking it, so we might as well say it.”

“Why not?” I grab another brownie.

“Those are two hundred and eighty-five calories,” Betsy says.

“I know.”

“I just thought you might have forgotten.”

I take a bite. “I didn’t.”

“Are you one of those women who can eat anything they want and not gain weight?” Marian asks. She looks extremely offended by this. More offended than when my mom not-so-subtly brought up my being a suspected murderer.

“She’s genetically predisposed to be thin.” Janet gestures at Mom.

“She runs like ten miles every morning,” Mom says.

“Not ten miles. Not every day, anyway. But, yeah, I can eat whatever I want and not gain weight.” This is not true, but I enjoy the sour look that comes over Marian’s face as I say it. I take another bite of the brownie.

“Anyway, I think Lucy could take over some of the planning, even if your family will be startled to hear from her,” Peggy says.

I shrug. “I’m fine with it.”

“See? She’s fine with it.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Lucy is always fine with startling people.”

“She has a point.” I polish off my brownie.

Betsy cheerfully bounces her hands off her thighs. “Let’s change the subject! Lucy, you live in—”

“Have you met that boy?” Peggy interrupts. “The one doing the podcast? What’s his name?”

“Ben,” Janet says.

“Right, Ben. He’s certainly good-looking, isn’t he? Not sure what he’s doing in radio. Should have been an actor.”

“He looked like a baby to me.” Marian tugs on a lock of red hair. “Younger than my son. Is he even out of college?”

Mom takes a brownie, clearly influenced by my good decisions. “He’s about twenty-five, I think.”

“Twenty-eight,” I correct. Everyone turns to look at me.

“You’ve listened to the show?” Peggy asks.

“Yes.”

“There’s a new episode today,” Janet says. “It’s very well done, isn’t it?”

“Who do you think cheated on her husband with that Colin boy?” Peggy whispers loudly, and then cackles.

I’ve only listened to half of today’s episode, but I’ve always thought that Colin is too dumb and lazy to kill anyone. I decide not to share that, since I’m the only other suspect at this point. “I’m riveted. Can’t wait to find out if I did it.”