Page 20 of With This Lie

Dani

I flipthe light on in the living room and immediately start taking my shoes off. My feet are killing me. I turn back to the door and Lucas is still standing right next to it.

“Come in, silly. Make yourself comfortable,” I say.

He relaxes his shoulders a bit and starts looking around. “This is a really nice place.”

“Why thank you, I appreciate that,” I say. “I’m just going to go change really quick. I smell like beer and grease.” I walk back through the short hallway to my bedroom while he probably begins snooping in the living room. Let’s face it, that’s what we do when we are in someone’s place for the first time. Although, I don’t usually let people in here. He doesn’t seem like the crazy type though, so I hope I won’t regret it later.

I peel out of my work clothes and grab some leggings and a slouchy off-the-shoulder t-shirt. This is cute enough and comfortable enough. I walk back out into the living room and Lucas is standing in front of my bookshelf.

“Find anything good?” I ask.

“Who’s this?” he asks, pointing at the single framed photo on the whole shelf, which means I don’t even have to look to answer.

“My mother,” I say.

“She’s very beautiful,” he says.

“Yes, she was.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he replies.

“Would you like some wine or something?” I ask, making a very blatant attempt to change the subject.

I think he senses my reluctance to talk about her as he nods. He walks over to the couch and sits down. I take two glasses from the cabinet and grab the open bottle of wine from the counter and head into the living room to join him.

“So how long have you worked downstairs?” Lucas asks.

“Just a couple of years,” I say. “I worked at a place across town before that and it was a pain in the ass so downstairs is a lot more convenient.”

“Commuting can be a bitch,” he says.

“Well, I don’t have a car, so it was a little worse than that,” I say.

“Why not?” he asks.

I pour two glasses of wine and sit the bottle back down. “I guess I just never needed one. I’ve always lived in the city. I live and work close. Everything I need is close. I don’t like traffic. I prefer walking anyway. I guess I just don’t see a point.”

“So, do you have a license? Like have you ever driven?” he asks, his curiosity growing just like anyone else who’s ever asked.

“Of course I do and of course I have.” I hand him his glass and sit back with mine, crossing my legs in front of me and twisting my body toward him on the couch.

“Interesting,” he says, sitting back and taking a sip from his glass.

“Most people do find it interesting, actually,” I say. “Not that I understand.” I take a second sip from my glass as it falls quiet.

“How long have you done this?” Lucas asks.

I know what he means. “I guess all my adult life. I didn’t date in high school. A few too many personal issues at the time to deal with that,” I say. “How long have you done this?”

“Pretty much the entire length of the marriage. So, eight years or so. I wasn’t too pristine before that either. I guess I’m just restless. Maybe I wasn’t meant to settle down,” he says.

I take in what he says, the honesty of it. “Do you think you’ll stop?” I ask.

“Maybe. I mean I hope so,” he says.

“Why do you snap a rubber band on your wrist?” I ask.

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