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“I’ve seen his act,” Cindy said. “He has an imaginary twin.”
“Right,” Yuki said. “And it’s easier to let him do it than stop him. I’m asking him questions and he’s answering as himself and as his character. So crazy. We have it all on tape.”
I gave my order to the waitress, and Yuki continued her story.
“And you know, during a deposition, when someone needs a break, the videographer says, ‘All right, it’s eleven twenty-three and we’re going off the record.’ And then when you’re coming back on, the videographer says, ‘It’s eleven thirty-five and now we are back on the record.’
“So McInerny needs a lot of breaks. He doesn’t like the deli food we served, so he has to order lunch from his favorite restaurant. Then he has to have a conference with his imaginary twin. As if that weren’t enough to make us all crazy, now he’s got a new shtick.
“When we restart the camera, McInerny pretends that he’s in the middle of a conversation. The camera goes on and McInerny says to me, ‘That’s the filthiest joke I’ve ever heard in my life.’”
Yuki demonstrated the shocked look she got on her face; it was hysterical and we all laughed. Yuki said, “The second time we come back he looks directly at the videographer and says to her, ‘Are you hitting on me? Are you coming on to me?’
“Then, of course, we had to take a five-minute break because she was laughing so hard she was crying.”
One minute I was laughing at the story, but the next my mind must have wandered off, because I suddenly realized that the girls were staring at me.
Yuki in particular gave me an appraising eye.
“Something’s wrong, Lindsay. What is it?”
“I’m fine. It’s been a really long day, but I’m okay.”
“I know what you look like when you’re tired, Lindsay,” Yuki said. “This is different. You look like you’ve been running laps in hell.”
Cindy said, “Yuki’s right. Are you feeling sick? Are you coming down with something?”
The waitress brought over another pitcher of tap along with a bottle of Australian root beer and a frosty mug of ice, both of which she put down in front of me.
When her footsteps faded I said to my friends, “Joe is having an affair.”
Chapter 71
I POURED ROOT beer into my mug with a shaking hand. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the hiss and crackle of the soda hitting the ice. Then everyone spoke at once.
Claire shouted — actually, she insisted — “No. No. Joe would never cheat on you.”
Cindy cut in. “This just can’t be true.”
But Yuki believed me.
She was back in her role of human nail gun, pinning me with her eyes, firing questions, bam-bam-bam.
“Who is the woman?”
“June Freundorfer. An old partner of Joe’s in DC.”
“How old?”
“My age.”
“How did you find out, Lindsay?”
“Does it matter?”
“Did Joe tell you about the affair?”
“No. She did,” I said.
