“You have a whole theory about this, don’t you?”
“I have theories about everything.” Mark grinned at me like a shark. “Do you want to hear how Paul’s marriage ended?”
I hesitated. “Is this a story I should be hearing from Paul?”
“Meaning?”
“I mean, is it private? Would he not want you to tell me this?”
“He hasn’t sworn me to secrecy. But I suspect the version he tells people is not exactly the way it happened, if he’s told you anything at all.” Mark’s words hit me harder than I wanted to admit. I tried to keep my expression neutral.
“I’m not trying to date Paul. So I’m not sure why you think I need to hear this.” That part was mostly true, but only because I was fairly certain he wasn’t interested. We had been around each other a lot for the last few weeks. We were both single. He’d had plenty of time to ask me out, and the fact that he hadn’t told me everything I needed to know. Didn’t it?
“My point is you don’t really know him.”
“Okay.”
“And you really need to hear about his mother.”
“Is this some Freudian thing? Because I think that’s largely been debunked.”
“Paul’s mother runs his life.”
I glanced away, feeling caught out. “He doesn’t talk about her very much.”
“That’s my point. His mother is a mess. Very dramatic, very involved. Probably has a personality disorder. Anytime something seems to be going right with any woman in Paul’s life, his mother blows it up. That’s what happened with his wife, you know. His wife left him for someone else, but they had problems before that because of the mother.”
“So why doesn’t Paul set some boundaries with her?”
“Guilt, I guess. Paul is all she has.”
I thought of my own mother, who had nearly lost her housing a few times in the five years before she finally passed away. Laura and I had bailed her out with a few thousand dollars here and there until she stopped thanking us for it and started to expect it. “That’s really hard for him.”
“It is hard. I feel for Paul, but my guess is he doesn’t plan on dating anyone seriously until his mother passes away. And that could be years, so I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“Well, my hopes weren’t up, but thanks for the warning. I didn’t…Paul and I aren’t…” I didn’t know what to say, honestly. Mark’s explanation made sense based on Paul’s behavior over the last few weeks.
“So would you want to go out with me sometime?”
I looked up, startled. Mark was smiling again, with a little bit of an edge, his expression daring me to say yes.
“I uh…oh. I don’t know if that’s...” I trailed off.
“I think you’re really something, Abby. And I never think that about anyone.”
I smiled, but my heart was pounding from nerves. “From what Lisette has said, you date a lot.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like any of them.” His feral grin was back.
I looked down. “I think it’s probably good for me to…I’m only here for a few weeks…” I had no good excuse. Part of me wanted to go to bed with Mark just to forget what had happened with Paul. The other part of me knew he was dangerous.
“Fair enough.” Mark took in my uncertainty with a shrug. “You can think about it. The offer stands.”
3
“THANKS FOR TAKING IN THE STRAY”
Mark was right aboutone thing: I didn’t actually know Paul that well. When Mark and I were talking in that tiny restaurant, I had only known Paul for four weeks, which is just slightly less time than I’d been in St. John’s. The story of how we met begins with Lisette, and the story of Lisette begins with my rental apartment.
