She Lied She Died

by Carissa Ann Lynch

  As we approached the glowing orange lights of the restaurant entrance, I immediately spotted Jerry standing out front. His hands were tucked in his jean pockets. The gaggle of pretty girls went by, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  Jerry had a face like a ham hock, sweaty and pink. He’s definitely not what I’d call handsome, but his close-set brown eyes were kind, and his mischievous, joker-like smile was undoubtedly his most attractive feature. The three of us had been friends for nearly a decade now, working together at the same marketing firm.

  For the longest time, I thought Jerry and Pam had a “thing”, but she had assured me it was never like that. If Jerry dated, Pam and I didn’t know about it. He seemed perfectly content with being single.

  “Happy birthday, love,” Jerry scooped me into a hug, lifting my feet off the ground as he did so.

  “Oh, wow. Someone’s excited tonight,” Pam teased.

  “Thanks, Jerry,” I said, adjusting my skirt as he dropped me back down on the pavement.

  “I saw you this morning, remember? He already wished me a happy birthday like fifty times,” I told Pam.

  “Yeah, but you know how it is. Nothing at work feels real. Now we can really celebrate. The big four-oh! It’s supposed to be a big one, you know…” Jerry held open the entrance door for Pam and me.

  “I can’t stay long,” I tried to tell them, but I was hit with a blast of live music and people chattering. Trying to talk now was like screaming into a deep dark void.

  Jerry pointed through the crowd at an open table near the bar, but away from the band, and Pam and I led the way.

  “Wow. I can’t believe this place gets so crowded. Definitely different than the lunch crowd,” I shouted, taking a seat at the four-person table. I hopped up on one of the stools and tried to scoot in closer to the table. The seats were so high that my feet dangled several inches from the ground.

  “So, what did you and Delaney do for your birthday? Anything?” Jerry asked, leaning in, his expression hopeful. He was sitting across from me, Pam at his elbow. They were sitting so close to one another, and, once again, it crossed my mind that they were a couple. If not, maybe they should be…

  “No, nothing. Although we wouldn’t have had time to anyway.” I brought him up to speed on what had happened to Samantha.

  Our waitress swooped in, taking our drink order.

  “Serves her right,” Jerry mumbled under his breath. He adjusted the sugar packets on the table and rearranged the bottles of ketchup and steak sauce.

  “Jerry don’t say that,” Pam slapped his arm and widened her eyes at me.

  “Well, it’s true. She stole Ivy’s husband. You can’t shit on people like that and expect karma not to rear up sooner or later…”

  My mind wandered back to the day Michael had told me ‘I’ve met someone. I think you and I both know it’s for the best…’ He was no nonchalant when he said it and I instantly felt too foolish to speak the truth – that I was shocked. In fact, I felt completely blindsided by it.

  I’d thought things were okay between us, better than okay, actually.

  The waitress returned with a tray full of drinks. She placed our drinks neatly in front of us on matching coasters. An amaretto sour for me. Dark Belgian beers for Jerry and Pam.

  We clinked our glasses together jovially, then I took a long swig of mine. My cheeks puckered and I set the drink back down on the table.

  “First of all, nobody stole Michael from me. He chose to go on his own. And although I’m not crazy about Samantha, Laney is. She likes her, and right now, Laney doesn’t like much of anyone. So, I can’t, in good conscience, ever wish ill of Michael’s wife.”

  Pam and Jerry exchanged looks, clearly impressed. I must admit, I was impressed myself. I sat up straighter and took another sip of the acidic drink.

  I meant what I said. I don’t want anything bad to happen to Laney’s stepmom. But a few years ago, that wouldn’t have been the case.

  “I’m proud of you. You’ve really turned over a new leaf, my friend.” Pam reached across the table and squeezed my hand. The gesture was kind and I was surprised to feel my eyes watering uncontrollably. Jerry tapped my toe under the table and smiled. Just like that, I felt my shoulders loosen, the tension in my stomach easing.

  It’s my birthday. And I have two awesome friends here with me. Hell, I might be forty and I might be divorced, but I like my job and I love my friends. And most importantly, I still have Laney, even if she’s going through a rebellious teenage phase…

  “Speaking of new leaves, Pam and I have something to tell you,” Jerry said, out of the blue.

  I watched my two best friends exchange smirky little smiles again.

  Were they finally going to admit that they were dating?

  “Well, come on then. Spill those guts,” I teased, sloshing the ice around in my drink with a straw. I could already feel a smidge of heartburn rising from my stomach.

  “We sort of … well, we did a thing. For your birthday, Ivy,” Pam grimaced.

  “Oh?” I said, slightly disappointed.

  I’m not a fan of gifts or big displays of affection.

  Jerry and Pam knew that better than anyone.

  Jerry took out his shiny black Android, flashed another knowing smile at Pam, then set his phone down on the table. He clicked the home button and slid it across the table toward me.

  I stared at the screen and blinked. My own face peered back at me.

  “What is this?”

  I recognized the picture: me, in a slim-fitting cocktail dress, cleavage propped up more than usual. Pam had taken the photo at last year’s Christmas party; it was one of those rare pictures that turned out well only because I wasn’t trying too hard to smile, or to get the right angle. She’d sent it to me last year, encouraging me to use it as my profile pic on Facebook. I had considered it, but ultimately, decided not to. I looked too carefree and silly in the photo.

  “Scroll down.” Jerry tapped his pointer finger on the table, excitedly. He looked all too pleased with himself.

  A flicker of irritation rolled through me.

  What the hell had they gone and done now?

  I did what he said and scrolled.

  Ivy, 30, from Madison, Indiana

  Likes: camping trips, boating, scary movies, thriller novels

  “Camping? Thriller novels? What the hell is this, guys? And you put my age down as 30! Why?” I was laughing, but my face felt hot.

  My best friends set me up a dating profile! It doesn’t get more pathetic than that…

  “You can change it up any way you’d like. It’s not live yet, so don’t be mad. We just thought it’d be good for you, ya know? You’re kind and funny, not to mention smoking hot … and you deserve to have some fun,” Pam gushed. She scanned my face, waiting for my approval.

  “You guys suck, you know that?” I covered my face with my hands, rubbing them up and down.

  “Here’s the log-in information and password. You can change anything you’d like. We added some more stuff about you, too … and there are two more pictures on there.” Jerry passed me a yellow sticky note with the words IvyGirl807 and 35818 written on it in his sloppy scrawl.

  I snatched the note up and jammed it inside the purse on the stool beside me.

  Our waitress had reappeared, this time with a steaming white plate of mussels.

  “Ooh, that’s a great picture of you,” she crooned, wiggling her brows at the photo displayed on Jerry’s phone.

  My cheeks flushed and I flipped the phone over on the table.

  “Thanks,” I said, quietly.

  “There are so many attractive guys on there. And girls too! Promise me you’ll check it out,” Pam whined, slamming back her second beer and shouting after the waitress for a third.

  “I will,” I lied, fingers grasping one of the mussel shells. “So, how was your day off?” I tried to change the subject, uncomfortable with this intense focus on me and my lackluster love life.


  I sucked the flesh from the shell while Pam told Jerry and me about her two intakes at the shelter today—an abused labrador and a lost Balinese kitten. She had been volunteering at the local animal shelter every Friday and Saturday for years now, and though she was one of those people who viewed animals as children, she never brought any home with her from work.

  Oh, how nice it would be to have a sassy pup instead of a rabid teen in my house…

  I was grateful to have a change in topic. I listened to my friends talk, but I didn’t hear much of what they said because I was slightly irritated about the whole dating site thing.

  Who the fuck do they think they are setting that up without asking me? Am I that desperate in their eyes?

  I tried to imagine the conversation that must have taken place between them when they decided to set it up. Pam saying, ‘Poor Ivy. You know what she really needs for her birthday? A man!’

  Pam was single too, but she dated regularly, either guys she met on dating sites or blokes she met in bars. Unlike me, she had never been married.

  I was also still worried about Delaney and Samantha. I checked my phone for the hundredth time but Michael had not responded to my texts.

  Surely, if Delaney needed me, she would get a hold of me, I assured myself.

  “Helloooo,” Jerry said, breaking into my thoughts with the snap of his fingers.

  “What?” I snapped. “Sorry. Just thinking about Delaney again…”

  “Well, we’re trying to get your mind off that. Where should we go next? You’re the birthday girl, you decide.”

  “Next?” I took a sip of my drink. By now, the amaretto sour was lukewarm, and the mussels were swishing around in my belly. All I wanted to do was go back home and fall asleep early.

  Damn, maybe I am getting old.

  “Yeah, I thought we could go out to a club. There are some new ones that just opened over in Kentucky. Maybe have some more drinks, do a little dancing like the old days? And before you say no, don’t worry. Jerry will be the DD if we need him,” Pam pleaded.

  The words “no” and “I’m tired” floated on the tip of my tongue. And they wouldn’t have been a lie – I was tired. And stressed out.

  I want to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep.

  But my mind wandered back to the dating profile, that giddy, carefree version of me in that profile pic. And my friends, so desperate to see me dating again. Maybe it wasn’t a terrible idea, but it still made me nervous just thinking about it. The last man I was with was Michael, and … well, look how that turned out.

  “Okay, I’ll go … but only for a little while. I need to get home in case—”

  “We know, we know. In case Delaney needs you,” Jerry said, laughing.

  Pam and Jerry were kind enough to settle the bill, covering my part of the food and my drink for my birthday. As we walked outside, I was hit with a vague memory: stumbling out of a restaurant just like this one…only then, it had been my twenty-first birthday. Michael clutching my arm for support. We were both drunk, completely unfit to be driving. But we didn’t care – we were so in love, or lust, that all we could think about was getting back to his apartment, getting each other alone…

  ‘I can’t wait to get you back to my place. Give you some birthday dessert, baby,’ he’d purred in my ear. He flicked my lobe with his tongue. It was cheesy – all of it – but his words created tingly shocks of pleasure that started on my scalp and trickled all the way to my toes.

  Michael, always the charmer. Until he wasn’t.

  “Listen, I’m going to follow you there,” I said, opening the door of the van. I expected more protests and was relieved when they didn’t.

  It had been so long since I’d been to Grisham Boulevard, which was where most of the popular bars and night clubs were in Kentucky.

  “You sure you don’t want to ride with me now? You could leave your car here till morning,” Jerry stood outside the driver’s window, jingling his keys. Pam was clutching his arm, clearly too drunk to drive herself after those four beers.

  “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll park in the garage by Grisham, and then if I need you to take me home, at least I’ll know the van is safely parked.”

  In reality, I wasn’t planning on having any more drinks. The amaretto sour had hurt my belly and left a terrible aftertaste in the back of my mouth.

  Plus, I wanted to be able to drive home so I didn’t have to deal with tracking down my van in the morning. Too many days in my youth had been spent recuperating from the night before…

  I placed my purse on the passenger seat and tugged my driver’s mirror down to check for food in my teeth.

  Even now, I’m shocked by the woman looking back at me.

  I guess I was still expecting that younger version, the one with the smooth white skin and shiny black hair minus the wiry gray strands, the girl with the killer smile and the confidence to back it up. Once upon a time, I could turn heads. Including Michael’s.

  But I don’t turn heads anymore.

  Maybe the dating app isn’t such a bad idea, I considered.

  Pam had shared a few stories about her dating escapades with me. Was I impressed?

  No, not really. I sort of felt sorry for her.

  My mind drifted back to Delaney, as I waited for Jerry to pull up beside me so I could follow him there.

  The phone on the floorboard chirped again. I’d nearly forgotten about it, lying down there in the dark. Grunting, I reached across the seat and scooped it up.

  Delaney will definitely be wanting this back in the morning, I thought, furtively.

  I stared at the screen of her iPhone. The screen saver was a picture of her and her best friend, Kerry. Kerry was all smiles and puckered lips, but Delaney … she frowned into the lens, her eyes narrowed and intense. She looked almost … angry. And everything about the photo screamed: ‘Don’t fuck with me.’

  Maybe that’s exactly what she was aiming for, I considered.

  I swiped right, mostly to erase that vexed image of her, and was instantly met with a prompt to put in a password. Without thinking I punched in the six-digit code Delaney and I had both been using for years now, the one she used to use for Roblox and other online kid games. But that had been years ago; surely, she had changed it by now?

  Surprisingly, the password still worked. Like me, Delaney was a creature of habit.

  A dozen app icons filled the screen. I was relieved to see that her wallpaper was a simple design, blue ocean water and steamy white caps on a stranded beach. It felt wrong looking at her phone like this. And if Delaney knew I was snooping, there would be hell to pay.

  She would be livid, no doubt.

  But isn’t this what responsible parents are supposed to do? Check up on their teens?

  My mother was dead by the time I was Delaney’s age, and I could have used one with all the trouble I got into.

  Delaney had two unread text messages blinking back at me in the corner. Before I could change my mind, I clicked on the message app.

  The first one was the message I’d sent her earlier, telling her to call me if she needed me.

  And the newest one… I clicked on it and waited for an image to load on the screen.

  My mouth fell open and I released a small cry, covering my mouth in horror.

  “What’re ya doing over there? Let’s go!” Pam shouted from Jerry’s passenger window. They were parked right in front of me, blinding white headlights shining in my eyes.

  I quickly pressed the home button and the screen went dark. Shaking, I reached over for my purse and buried the phone deep inside.

  I rolled my window all the way down, leaned out, then shouted, “I’m so sorry, but I have to go now. Delaney needs me at the hospital. Thanks for dinner. We’ll do it again soon, yeah?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Pam said, but I could tell she didn’t believe me. She slumped back in her seat, and I could see she was already texting away on her phone.

  If Jerry and I are here, then who is
she texting? I wondered.

  Pam didn’t have any other close friends, but she was friendly with a lot of people…

  But it didn’t matter – my thoughts were with Delaney now.

  The image on my daughter’s phone flashed in my mind again. Repulsed, I shook my head, willing it to go away. Jerry honked and waved, then I watched their taillights disappear from the restaurant parking lot. Finally, I put the van in gear and started the slow crawl home.

  The One Night Stand: Chapter 4

  BEFORE

  The house was cloaked in a dark cloud, not a single light on inside or outside, since I’d left them all off when I’d gone out for my birthday.

  Oak Hill was not only a subdivision, but a community. At least that was what the original advertisement had claimed. I had one neighbor across the street; both houses beside me – near replicas of mine – lay neglected and empty.

  Almost all the houses in Oak Hill were empty. The clubhouse and the pool that they boasted about building years ago … well, those never happened. The people and the houses in the brochure were sunshiny, gleaming with community, with joy and a stark contrast to the somber reality I came home to every day.

  A perfect house in theory; but a lonely, empty place in truth.

  It was like living in our own little ghost town, which at first, when we moved in, we thought was neat. I never had to worry about Delaney riding her bike outside, but then again, there was no one for her to play with either. And as the years marched on, the whole subdivision felt deserted and a little depressing.

  At least we have Fran across the street, I thought, rolling my eyes.

  Fran looked to be around seventy years old and, according to Pam’s sources, she was widowed. Although she rarely left the house, she was always watching, peeking through the blinds as we came or went, goggling at us when she fetched her mail. And although I’d tried being neighborly, waving and smiling, she was never friendly back, almost pretending like she didn’t see us at all.

  Finally, after the first year of living here, I stopped waving completely.