Page 44
‘Yes. I noticed.’
There was a flicker of uncertainty behind the steadiness in his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Nothing really. But when I got home, I saw your wife letting her out. Which was weird, because she was supposed to have escaped.’
‘She did. She came back while I was out looking for her.’
‘And let herself in?’
He nodded. ‘I left the back door ajar in case she came home.’
‘Right. Of course.’
‘Then my wife woke up and let her out. She didn’t know Ruby had already been and come back.’
Was he telling the truth? It was possible. But she didn’t think he was, although at this point she was losing any sense of what was reasonable, never mind what was true.
And, more worryingly, if he was lying, he was extremely good at it. Mary decided to push a little harder.
‘She peed,’ she said. ‘In your back yard.’
The uncertainty in his eyes hardened into irritation; even anger, maybe. ‘You were watching?’
‘I happened to be at the window above my sink. And Ruby peed.’
‘I see. You’re saying that if she had already been out she wouldn’t have needed to pee? The implication being that I made it all up?’
‘Did you?’
He shook his head. ‘Why would I? Why would I need an excuse to leave my house? As you said, I can go out anytime I like.’ He sighed. ‘This is ridiculous. She did get out. She did it at our old house, and I haven’t had time to secure the yard yet. I was hoping she’d grown out of the habit.’
The smile returned. This time Mary could not tell if it was real or fake.
‘And if she peed when my wife let her into the back yard, that’s hardly a surprise. She’s conditioned to pee when we let her out.’
‘If you say so.’
‘It’s not a matter of whether I say so or not. It’s conditioned reflexes. Pavlov and his dogs.’
Mary shrugged. ‘Pavlov. If you say so.’
‘OK,’ he said. ‘I think we’ve got off to a bad start. I apologize for whatever it is I’ve done to offend you.’ He stepped away. ‘Enjoy your soup, and have a great weekend.’
She finished her coffee and watched him walk in the direction of the exit. She dropped the cup into a trash can.
When she looked back up, Ryan was approaching.
‘What was that about?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, a wave of exhaustion overwhelming her. ‘Let’s go home. I need a break before Otis’s soccer game.’
Fooling No One but Himself
If you want to understand a small town, watch the youth sports.
Over the years Mary had found it incredibly revealing; there was something about watching their kids play sports that led parents to reveal the truth of who they were, and who they were was often unrecognizable from who they seemed in everyday life. Which was their true self, she supposed, was up for question – but the transformations some of them underwent were drastic and immediate and, if occasionally alarming, endlessly fascinating.
As well as unpredictable. You couldn’t tell who would become a tight-lipped, red-faced ball of anger, shouting at anyone who came in their firing line: referees, opposing players, parents who shouted out things they didn’t like, but most often and, most disturbingly, their own kids. She’d seen all sorts; the worst was a dad who started shouting when the whistle blew and didn’t stop until the game was over.
