Page 80 of The Lies I Told
And Jo-Jo was lying, too. Maybe she’d not fabricated a story, but she wasn’t telling everything she knew. Her lies were ones of omission.
33
MARISA
Friday, March 18, 2022
6:30 a.m.
As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, Alan’s door opened. His voice mingled with a woman’s. I couldn’t make out whatever they were saying, but I picked up an awkward strain that ran under the words.
I reached the top landing as Alan kissed the woman, who wore a cocktail dress and heels that looked painful. They both turned toward me.
“Morning,” I said.
“Morning,” the woman said.
Alan’s demeanor was casual, as it always was when we passed each other in the hallway. He seemed a little chagrined and also curious about my sudden appearance. Likely wondering where I’d been this early as he questioned his own timing. Maybe he assumed I was coming home after a night like the one he’d had.
“Have a good day,” I said as I fumbled with my keys.
As I twisted the lock, the woman’s heels clicked on the stone stairs as she vanished down the stairwell.
“You’re up early,” Alan said.
I paused in the doorway and faced him. “Couldn’t sleep. Out for a drive.”
Alan’s hair was tousled, and his T-shirt was on inside out. Roguish, charming even. “I’ve a fresh pot of coffee on. Should be finished brewing now.”
“You didn’t offer her coffee?” I asked.
“I’m tired. She’s a tea drinker.”
I shook my head. “She and I can never be friends.”
He chuckled. “A deal breaker for me, too.”
“Was there a deal to be broken between you two?”
“No.” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I make a mean cup.”
“I can’t say no to that.”
As I passed by, I caught the whiff of his scent mingling with the faint perfume of his guest. My post-sobriety celibacy kick left me a little jealous of this woman who had a sex life. A little sex would be nice occasionally, but with me it seemed everything was either all or nothing.
“How do you like the place?” I asked.
“It’s great. I love the privacy, the view, and the rent.”
“It’s a real find.”
“How long did you say you’ve lived here?”
“Three years.” In the sink were two wineglasses. One had red lipstick on the rim.
He opened the cabinet and pulled out two mugs. “Milk?”
“Yes. And sugar if you have it.”
