The Liar

“What was I going to do with all those things, Mama? Even when I find a house—and I have to find a job first—I couldn’t use all those things. Did you know there are companies that come in, look things over and buy furniture all at once, right out of the house?”

She said it conversationally, lightly, as she rose, bent to pick up Callie, who was dancing, holding her arms up. “The realtor helped me find them. She was such a help to me with that sort of thing. I should send her flowers when the sale’s all done, shouldn’t I?”

The question didn’t distract her mother as Shelby had hoped.

“All that furniture? Why, Shelby, there were seven bedrooms in that house, and that big office, and I don’t even know all the other rooms. It’s as close to a mansion as I’ve ever been in without paying for the tour. And so new.” Shock and worry clear on her face, Ada Mae rubbed the heel of her hand between her breasts. “Oh, I hope you got a good price for all that.”

“I worked with a very reputable company, I promise. They’ve been in business over thirty years. I did a lot of research online on that kind of thing. I swear, I could get a job as a researcher with all I’ve done with it, if I didn’t think I’d want to shoot myself before the first week was done.

“We’re going to unpack, Callie. You gonna help before you and Gamma go?”

“I’ll help! I like helping Mama.”

“Best helper ever. Let’s get started. Mama, do you know if Clay took up the box that had Callie’s little hangers? I can’t use regular ones for her things yet.”

“He took up everything that had her name on it. I’ll just go out and look, be sure.”

“Thanks, Mama. Oh, I’ll go out, change the car seat over to your car.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday.” The edge in Ada Mae’s voice told Shelby her mother was still reeling from the idea of selling all that furniture.

She didn’t know the half of it yet.

“Your daddy and I got the same one you use,” Ada Mae added. “It’s all ready for her.”

“Mama.” Shelby stepped over and with her free arm pulled her mother into a hug. “Callie, you have the best Gamma in the whole world.”

“My Gamma.”

And that distracted Ada Mae—enough, Callie thought as she knew her mother would chew over the idea of selling all the furniture in a near-to-ten-thousand-square-foot house in one fell swoop.

•   •   •

IT WAS ODD not having Callie underfoot or playing in her eye line, but she’d been so excited about the playdate. And it was true enough she’d be done with the unpacking and sorting in half the time without Callie “helping.”

By noon, with everything put away, the beds made, she wondered what in the hell to do with herself.

She glanced at her laptop with some dislike, but made herself boot it up. No notices from creditors—so that was good news. Nothing yet on the sale of the house, but she wasn’t expecting it. She did read a short e-mail from the consignment shop, letting her know they’d sold two of Richard’s leather jackets, his cashmere topcoat and two of her cocktail dresses.

She replied with a thank-you, telling them yes, it was fine to wait until the first of the month to send a check to the address she’d left with them.

With unpacking and business done, she showered, dressed. Still too early to go in for the massage—and wouldn’t that be heaven? So she’d take a walk. She could use a good walk.

The thin drizzle persisted, a steady trickle of wet out of a sky soft and gray as smoke. But she liked walking in the rain. She pulled on a hoodie, short, soft leather boots, and reached for her big bag. Her Callie bag. And remembering she’d given it to her mother to take, pushed her wallet into the back pocket of her jeans.

She felt so light, so unencumbered, she didn’t know what to do with her hands, so slipped them into the pockets of the hoodie, found the little pack of wet wipes she’d stuffed in there the last time she’d worn it—when she hadn’t been so unencumbered.

She drew in a deep breath of the cool, damp air when she stepped outside. Just stood breathing in with her fingers around Callie’s wet wipes and the empty afternoon stretching ahead of her.

Everything was greening and sprouting and blooming with the misty rain turning the green, the color, more vibrant. All those scents—wet grass, wet earth, the tender sweetness of hyacinths dancing purple among the yellow of daffodils—drifted to her as she walked the long, familiar road.

She could walk by the Lee house, just to check. It was getting on to nap time, and Callie wasn’t a hundred percent on the potty training in her sleep. About ninety-eight, but she’d be so embarrassed if she had an accident because her grandmother didn’t think to take her in to pee before her nap.

She could just walk by, just a quick peek to . . .

“Stop it. Just stop. She’s fine. Everything’s just fine.”

She’d listen to her mother’s advice, take the day to do what she wanted. A walk in the rain, taking her time, time enough to study the mountains in their smoky blanket, to appreciate the spring flowers and the quiet.