Page 23 of The Roommate Lie

“It’s not a town scandal sheet,” I tell her. “It’s a Lilac Hedgerow scandal sheet.”

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that scandal sheet was one of the reasons I wanted to live in this neighborhood. Only people in the hedgerow get a copy. Waking up to find The Victorian’s publication waiting on my fence never gets old.Dispatch From the Hedgerowisn’t a bug, it’s a feature, and there’s no life like hedge life.

Alice hands me today’s edition. I scan for the section that’s about her and read it out loud.

“Let’s wish a warm hedgerow welcome to our newest resident, the writer Anne Livingston. Ms. Livingston has chosen our little corner of Ponderosa Falls to call home while she finishes her next book. If she also manages to cause a stir while she’s in town? Even better. Some Pondies could use a little shaking up—we’ll be watching.”

I glance at Alice. She still looks thrilled, as if our local gossip columnist keeping tabs on her is an honor. I almost stop reading, but The Victorian’s signature closer is next, and Lydia recites it with me.

“Your humble and obedient eavesdropper, The Victorian.”

Alice sighs dreamily. Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a small white business card that I recognize. A similar card was tucked between my fence slats right after I moved in.

“I found this in the fence last night. I heard a noise and came outside, but the scandal sheet wasn’t there yet.”

Lydia sighs her own dreamy sigh, her pancake spatula clutched to her chest. “I bet you scared them off. I bet you weretwo seconds away from unmasking The Victorian, and they had to come back later to deliver the paper.”

Her delight over that scenario lasts about five seconds. A slow realization washes over Lydia, and her eyes meet mine, her expression the most wounded I’ve ever seen. “You got a welcome card; Alice got a welcome card. Why didn’t I get one?”

Tyler looks up. He was checking the private forum for his webcomic, the one he publishes anonymously, while he ate breakfast. But he still managed to hear everything we said.

“You aren’t a published author, and you don’t own this house. The Victorian probably just thought you were Charlie’s newest girlfriend.”

My newest girlfriend?

For the second time since dawn, I’d like to murder my best friend. I’ve never brought any girls home, and I haven’t dated in almost a year. I know Tyler doesn’t mean anything by it, but then I glance at Alice. That girl’s hanging on every word, and I’d like to murder him twice.

Before I can commit multiple felonies, there’s a knock on the door, and Tyler lets my mom in. Because it’s Tuesday morning, and he knows the drill.

When she makes it past the mudroom, her gaze goes straight to Alice and Lydia. “Sweetie, why have the girls in your house multiplied?”

My mom looks a little dazed by our newest addition, but I don’t actually think it’s the girls’ fault. When I check again, she mostly seems exhausted, and I’m not sure how long she’s been back in town. How long it takes to pick up a litter of abandoned raccoon kits in Steamboat Springs.

Should I try to woo Alice with baby raccoons?

That thought pops into my head out of nowhere, and I shake it off fast. Determined to stay focused—and stay away from Alice.

“They’re like gremlins,” I tell my mom, nodding to the girls in my kitchen. “Lydia wandered through a sprinkler after midnight, and this was what happened.”

“Well, at least she spawned a redhead. A ginger adds variety.”

That response is peak Mama Roscoe (even if she’s not technically a Roscoe anymore). Her comment makes me smile, but it also makes it sound like I collect girls for sport. Like they’re trading cards or Pokemon. Or maybe I’m just feeling touchy after my morning with Tyler.

Either way, I change the subject, eager to get out of here. “You ready for breakfast?” I ask my mom, and she tosses me her car keys so I can drive. I hold out my skateboard like we’re going to swap, and she laughs, play-punching my arm.

“All right, wise guy. Get the lead out and get in the car. Breakfast isn’t going to eat itself.”

For the most part, her good mood isn’t a facade. Even tired, she’s in the same great spirits she’s been in since she married Wild Bill Tipton last year. Living with him and helping out at his wildlife center on the edge of town has done my kindergarten-teacher mama a world of good.

Though when I look again, there’s a little something extra in that look she’s giving me. Something serious. Her gaze flicks to Alice on our way out, and I get the message loud and clear.

We need to talk.

Chapter Thirteen

CHARLIE

It’s family meeting time.

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