Liars Like Us

19

Heaving a sigh of relief, I watch the squad cars pull away from the curb and drive down the street. Over on the sidewalk, my gathered neighbors stare at me in open astonishment. I might as well be levitating for how shocked they look.

“I don’t know what to say, Callum, except thank you. If you hadn’t called, my neighbors and I would all be sleeping on the floor of my shop tonight.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime. And now I’ll let you get back to your day. It was nice speaking with you.”

“You, too. Thanks again.”

He says goodbye and disconnects, leaving me standing in the street even more disoriented than I was before I pulled up.

He said nothing about his proposal.

He acted like a perfect gentleman.

He saved me and my neighbors from disaster with barely ten seconds of effort.

Most confusing of all is that I never gave him my cell phone number.

Eight

A

t Dani’s Friday night, I update her on recent disasters as she puts together the salad to accompany the lasagna finishing up in the oven. Her husband, Ryan, tries to keep their screaming two-year-old daughter, Mia, occupied with toys on the living room floor while their dog, a rescue terrier with hyperactivity issues, tears around the house barking at invisible squirrels, and Ryan’s partially deaf father watches Jeopardy with the volume cranked. At regular intervals, he shouts out incorrect trivia answers, then hollers, “Bullshit!” when he’s proven wrong.

I love this family, but after a week living here, all my hair would fall out from stress.

Which makes my current situation even more terrifying. If I can’t afford rent anymore and wind up couch surfing at Casa Chaos, I might never recover my wits.

Or my hearing.

“I can’t believe someone’s suing you. It’s not like you have any money they can get,” Dani says, calmly tossing dressing into a bowl of salad greens like her home is an oasis of tranquility instead of the circus it actually is.

“Pretty sure they don’t know that, or they wouldn’t have bothered. Everybody seems to think business owners are rolling in dough.”

“Did you hire an attorney?”

“And pay him with what? Tears?”

“I don’t know, but you better get someone soon. If you don’t answer the summons, the other guy gets an automatic judgment, and you’re screwed.”

Dejected, I mutter, “I can’t imagine being any more screwed than I already am.”

I set the table while Dani takes the lasagna out of the oven. As we sit down to eat, Mia starts banging her fork on the table and the dog jumps up, knocking over a glass of water. Ryan’s father, who has now switched over to Wheel of Fortune, yells out a guess, then cackles when it turns out to be right.

“Dad, it’s time to eat!” Ryan shouts from the table. “Dad!”

I can already feel the headache starting to pulse at my temples.

“So I spent some time stalking your future husband all over the internet. Want to hear what I found?”

I give Dani a stern look. “No. And he’s not my future husband.”

Ryan chuckles. “I’ll marry him if you’re not interested.”

Smiling, Dani says, “Excuse me, pal, but you already have a spouse.”

“Yeah, but think about it. I’d get the ten mil, file for a quickie divorce, then move you, me, and our terrorist spawn out to that little ranch in Montana that we saw on Zillow that had the guest cottage for Dad and the horse stalls.”

Mia bounces in her high chair and shrieks, “Horsie! Horsie!”

“You guys aren’t allowed to move away from here,” I say, helping myself to a big chunk of lasagna from the casserole dish in the middle of the table. “We’re all gonna grow old together and throw ragers at the nursing home, remember?”

When Ryan and Dani share a quick look, I get nervous. “Oh God. What is it? What’s wrong? Is someone sick? Who’s dying? Hurry up and tell me before I pass out.”

Dani hands me the salad bowl. “Nobody’s sick or dying, maniac. It’s not always the end of the world. Hurry up and eat something before your blood sugar crashes and you turn into a gremlin.”

I say drily, “If you’d had the month I’ve had, trust me, you’d assume every little thing was the end of the world.”

Serving Ryan a piece of lasagna, Dani says, “We actually might need to move, though. We’ve started looking at places out of state.”

Shocked, I set the salad bowl down with a clatter and look back and forth between her and Ryan. “Why?”

“I got laid off,” admits Ryan quietly, staring at his daughter.

“No! Oh, you guys, I’m so sorry. I thought the job was going well?”

Dani sighs. “Yeah. It was a complete surprise. Apparently, the company can do without middle managers.”

Ryan conducts appraisals on commercial properties for large corporations investing in real estate. Business had been booming until the economy took a downturn, but I had no idea things had gotten so bad.

He says, “We’ve got equity in the house. Since home prices are so much higher here than in other parts of the country, if we sell, we’d be able to afford to pay cash for a place. Which would be necessary, since I couldn’t qualify for another mortgage if I’m out of work.”

“But can’t you look for work here? I’m sure something else will come up. Someone with your skills is bound to find another position quickly!”

Ryan shakes his head. “I’ll be forty this year, Em. I’m competing with recent college grads for jobs now, and they’ll work for practically nothing. Nobody wants to pay my salary.”