For a day of crappy weather, Adele’s was busy. Before heading out, Laura told Ashley and Brandon they would be closing since they came in late. Laura left around 4pm and headed to the gym. She joined when a recruiter came by offering discounted memberships to everyone in the neighborhood a few years ago, but it wasn’t until she turned 40 that she really started using it.
She put some Ron Pope on her iPod and set a good pace on a treadmill. His songs seemed to be in one of two categories: heartfelt, sappy love songs and broken alcoholic songs. She’d made a playlist of the latter. Rumor had it there would be a new album before the end of the year. She increased the speed on the treadmill by one more increment. It would be ten minutes before she broke a sweat.
Laura thought about the shop – about tomorrow’s supply delivery before she let her thoughts drift to Nick. He didn’t work out as often as she did and he’d gained some weight over the years, but it didn’t really matter to her. Nick was-
“Damn.”
Laura looked in the direction of the voice, but she already knew the source: Zach. He was ten years younger than Laura, good looking, and aware of it.
As far as she could tell, Zach consistently mistook the local gym for the local nightclub. “Babe,” Zach said, leaning on her treadmill. “I don’t know who told you that you needed to get in shape, but you should let them know you’re almost there.”
Laura considered pretending her earbuds were too loud to hear him. He was trolling for attention. In that way, she supposed, he was like every other guy. His short, black hair and slightly worn face gave him the appearance of an ER-era Clooney. On a whim, she decided to play along.
“Almost?”
“Well, your stomach is tight. Your breasts, full and firm. Lose a bit more on your ass and you’d be fine enough to be seen with the likes of me.”
“Gosh, I guess I’ll just have to work harder,” Laura said with a smirk and continued to jog and figuring Zach would go away. He didn’t.
“Hey, I was only kidding.”
“Yeah?”
“You know you could come have a drink with me anytime. Even with your slightly less than perfect butt.”
Zach’s smugness finally outpaced his cuteness. If the guy kept his mouth shut, he’d probably have more luck. She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the treadmill. After a moment, Zach got the hint and wondered off.
Good, Laura thought. He wouldn’t have known what to do if she had taken him up on his offer. She got off the treadmill a few minutes later.
“Was that guy bothering you?” a young woman’s voice asked. Laura turned to see a gym employee younger than Ashley with a short brown bob.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Laura said nodding at her. The employee nodded back and walked by her
As Laura drove home, she wondered if he used the same lines on everyone or if they were specific to the person. She thought about how many women at the gym would be checking their asses in the mirror trying to see what’s wrong with them. Laura knew her body had flaws. There was her leg: It hurt like hell sometimes, but she knew the treadmill helped. She wasn’t perfect, but she knew Zach was wrong about one thing; there was nothing wrong with her ass.
Laura hit the garage door button as she pulled into her driveway. Nick’s Mercedes was there. She was glad he was home. They bought the house right after the mortgage bubble burst four years earlier. It was an enviable house by any standard, three stories, four bedrooms, nearly 3,000 square feet, two-car garage, and a view of Commencement Bay, but since they’d bought the place, it was Laura’s attentions that had turned it into a home. She spent more than a couple weekends down on Antique Row going to some of Nick’s competitors and finding things like the turn of the century maple coat rack and the Jacobean oak dining room table that gave the place her personal style of dark woods and earth tones. Laura arranged the house like she did flowers. There was an art to it. The kitchen was full of chrome appliances with navy blue accents. The furniture in the living room was dark worn leather. And for a household where the occupants both worked long hours, it was a clean house.
Laura walked into the kitchen and found Nick at the sink cleaning shrimp. She went behind him and put her arms around him.
“I see you’ve got plans for dinner,” Laura said.
“Shrimp fettuccine,” Nick said.
“You’re making it?” She said, holding onto him”
“No, I’m doing my part so I can say we made it. I would hate for people to think I make my wife cook for me after a long day.”
“You’re so considerate, Nicolas.” Laura let him go. He turned around. It always caught him off guard when she used his full name. He gave her a look before they kissed. It was a fast kiss and less than what she wanted. She pulled out a pot to boil water.
Brandon was not giving up. The plunger was made for a sink and not a toilet. It was about half the size of a regular plunger, but he would be damned if this old plumbing was going to get the best of him. This was not the first time there were problems with this system. The last battle ended in success, but he broke the plunger. That was two months ago. He told himself to buy another one, but never got around to it. Now he was using this tiny plunger, getting his hands wet with dirty toilet water, and barely creating the suction necessary to fix the clogged toilet.
He stopped for a moment. The water level was low. Maybe too low. He decided to chance the flood and flushed. Then he started pumping the plunger like mad. The water level rose and then fell. He heard the familiar sound of the water draining. He did it.
“YES! You have been defeated! I am your conqueror.”
Ashley opened the bathroom door, “You clearly have more fun in the bathroom than I do. You want a drink?”
“God, yes.”
Brandon washed his hands. He turned around and flushed the toilet again just because he could. He heard Ashley toss ice into glasses. He went into the living room and turned on the television.
“Four hundred bucks,” Ashley said, “Over a hundred bucks each. In a day.”
So they were going to talk about it after all. Ashley poured a shot of Kahlua and a shot of vodka into a rocks glass. She topped it with Irish Cream. She handed it to Brandon and started making another. He hit the mute button on the television.
“That’s on top of our hourly wage,” Ashley said.
Brandon took a sip. The girl could make a drink. Her ‘Irish Russians’ were one of his favorites.
She told him about the other alibis. They were all simple. Ashley called one guy’s wife saying she wanted to thank her husband for helping her with a flat tire the night before. Another guy needed a receipt from a waterfront restaurant. (Ashley ordered lunch from The Ram for that.) The flat tire routine worked for the third guy as well, though she had Ray call on that one because the man said his wife would be suspicious if another woman called. Brandon tried not to think about it too much as he worked on his drink. The drink tasted like candy. He drank most of it quickly, hoping it might take the twist out of his stomach and allow him to be the optimist that Ashley was about this.
“Fine,” he eventually said, “I will admit the lying business is better than I thought it would be, but it’s still lying.”
Ashley finished making her drink and wandered over to Brandon on the couch.
“I love you, Brandon, especially when you act like Captain America.”
She put her drink on the coffee table and straddled him.
“Baby, I am half-Russian. Captain America I am not. Maybe Winter Soldier. But are you not even a little bothered about creating these lies for people?”
He put his hands on her hips.
“Not at all. You think the people we sell flowers to really care about everyone they send flowers to? It’s all a bought and paid for lie. I’m honestly surprised I didn’t think of it before Ray did. And Ray is right, y’know. These people would still be doing these things without our help. Besides…” Ashley put her arms around Brandon, “It can be fun…pretending.”
Brandon put his hand on the side of Ashley’s face. Her skin was the smoothest thing he had ever touched. He kissed her. Their lips parted and he looked right at her. She gave him a mischievous grin.
“Did you like pretending this afternoon? Being some other girl’s boyfriend?”
They kissed again.
“I bet you did,” she said.
He tried to keep his eyes on hers.
“How far would you have taken it? Tell me.”
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Afterthoughts
Some of the events and circumstances in A Better Lie are drawn on from real life. Perhaps nothing in the entire novel is lifted as directly from my life as Brandon’s battle with the toilet with a tiny plunger. Like Brandon I had broken a plunger and failed to replace it and ended up like Brandon using the sink plunger on the toilet.
After spending the earlier chapters at the shop, we now get to see our characters at home in the evening. The house where Nicolas and Laura live is in a wealthier section of Tacoma’s Stadium District. The interior layout of the house comes from a friend’s large house, but the style comes from Laura’s character.
The Irish Russians are a drink I hesitate to say I invented, but I certainly perfected it.
There’s a mention of The Ram on the waterfront and there’s a mention of Antique Row, but I don’t think there’s any reason to dive into those given that the story hasn’t gone there. (Yet.)
I want to thank every single one of you for sticking around. I’ve waited so long to tell this story and so far the feedback I’ve received has all been positive. Feel free to keep the feedback coming. Writers live off of cash and feedback. You’ve already given me some of your cash and I’m beyond thankful because without it, this would be impossible.
A reader asked me what music I listened to when I was writing this. If I’m listening to music while I’m writing it is instrumental, usually the soundtrack to a movie. For A Better Lie, most of the time I listened to The Social Network soundtrack by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. It works well for me regardless of what I’m writing. I also listened to a little of Steve Vai’s Passion and Warfare, a favorite from my younger days. If we ever kissed in my room as a teenager I probably put this CD in the boom box.
Keep the questions and feedback coming. It has been really great finally sharing this story with people.
NEXT: An alibi goes wrong.