Page 47 of City of Liars

But I had to be. What choice did I have? Besides, if I thought about it for two seconds, I could figure out why she’d shown up on my doorstep. There was only one thing she wanted, and it sure as hell wasn’t to spend time with me.

“Mom.” I cleared my throat. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What, a mother can’t surprise her baby boy?” Her voice was high and girlish. It was a Dorian Gray of a voice, and it pissed me off. I couldn’t count the number of times she’d raised it in anger to me and Will, screaming that we were the reason her life went so wrong, that if it wasn’t for us, she and Dad would still be happy together. That everything was all our fault.

When she wasn’t shrieking, she was sobbing. I used to pray to a God I didn’t believe in for her to be quiet. When I got my wish, I’d feel guiltier than ever, because her silence meant she’d spiraled into the depths of a depression from which no one could retrieve her. Not me, not Will, not even the psychiatrist Grandma Susi dragged her kicking and screaming to see.

It was my deepest fear that I would wind up like her: angry, bitter, drunk, and alone. Every time she spoke, it triggered a knee-jerk reaction to run as far and fast as possible.

“You don’t look very happy to see me, Theo,” she said, pouting. “And you haven’t introduced me to your friend.”

“My mistake.” I glanced at Liv, who looked like she wished the pavement would swallow her. So much for the way I’d hoped this afternoon would turn out.

“What’s your name, honey?” my mother said, in a tone that managed to convey both disappointment in my poor manners and sympathy for whatever woman I’d managed to snag.

Liv cut her gaze at me, as if to see how much to reveal, and I gave a slight shake of my head. I hadn’t told my mother anything about our search. How could I? She was fragile under the best of circumstances. Daily life overwhelmed her. There was no way I was going to talk to her about this until and unless I had an answer.

After a moment of hesitation, Liv extended her hand. “Liv,” she said, simply. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dressler.”

Watching the two of them shake, I cringed. The tremor in my mother’s fingers was impossible to deny, as was the papery texture of her skin.

“Please call me Joan,” she said, giving Liv a too-wide smile. “No one’s called me ‘Ms. Dressler’ since I sent my no-good ex packing and had to deal with all the creditors he owed. Then it was all, ‘Sorry, we can’t help you, Ms. Dressler,’ and ‘Perhaps you’ll make better choices next time, Ms. Dressler.’” She waved a hand, dismissing this. “But that’s neither here nor there. The pleasure’s mine. It’s lovely—and unusual—to meet one of Theo’s girlfriends.”

There went my mother, oversharing as per usual. She’d tell anyone who’d listen how her mother had hated her and the father of her children had abandoned her. Although this time, she’d apparently decided to spin the story so she was the one who’d kicked Nathan out instead of acknowledging the reality: he’d gone out for a beer and never come home.

“Oh,” Liv said, with a self-conscious shrug. “I’m not Theo’s girlfriend. I’m just a friend.”

“Sure you are.” My mother gave the giggle that matched the pout and the voice. “Theo, when your brother told me you were coming home this weekend, I had no idea it was to meet a woman. Aren’t you the sneaky one.”

“I didn’t come home,” I said, tugging at the cuffs of my jacket, a nervous habit. “Unless you mean my apartment. I didn’t come here to meet Liv. I came⁠—”

“—to work,” my mother said with a sigh. I did my best to ignore the flicker of hurt that darkened her features. “You work too much, Theodore. Overwork is just another form of addiction, you know.”

I bit my tongue hard in an effort not to reply. If there was one thing we were not discussing in the street in front of Liv, it was my family’s addiction issues and my overcompensation for them. “Thank you for the amateur psychoanalysis.”

Liv—who, it occurred to me, was more than capable of professional psychoanalysis and was probably having a field day with this situation—looked appalled. “I should be going,” she said. “I don’t want to interrupt family time.” She wrapped her arms around herself and took a step backward. Who could blame her?

“All right,” I said, resigned. “I’ll catch up with you later, then.”

“You don’t have to go!” my mother protested. “What I need to discuss with Theo won’t take long.”

Yeah, I was sure it wouldn’t. There was only one thing she wanted, and the hell of it was, I was going to give it to her. But I couldn’t tell Liv, who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere than here.

The wind blew her hair into her face, and she brushed it back, giving me what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. Text me when you’re free…unless you want me to stay?”

I hated the thought of her leaving, but the idea of having her witness what was about to transpire was even worse. I paused, my mother’s eyes fixed on my face. In their depths raged the battle I’d witnessed all my life: a tossup between self-hatred, shame, and fury. The dial spun, and landed on fury, just as I’d feared.

“Oh, he wants you to leave,” she said to Liv, her tone venomous. “He’s ashamed of me. Do you know I’ve never met a single woman in his life? Thirty-four years old, and you’re the first one he’s ever introduced me to. I’d be willing to bet if I hadn’t shown up unannounced, I would’ve never known you existed. Isn’t that right, Theodore?”

I set my jaw, unwilling to play her game, but of course she kept talking. “You think you’re so much better than I am. But have you told your lovely friend the truth about who you really are, beneath that shiny surface?”

“Stop it.” I forced the words from between gritted teeth.

The effort was pointless. My mother had what she craved, the only thing that would make her feel like she had power over me. I made her apartment’s mortgage payments, gave her a monthly living allowance, and much as she needed me, she hated me for it. Hated the idea that I was able to provide for her, the way she’d never provided for me or Will. Triumph flashed in her eyes as she spoke again.

“He hasn’t, has he, dear?” she said, her tone saccharine. “Let me guess. He’s thrown his money around, making you feel like you’re the most special person in the world…for a day, for a night, for an hour. He never keeps them around longer than that, his women.” The word was a sneer. “Have you ever wondered why?”

If I could have throttled my mother, I would have. But if there was one thing I’d promised myself, it was to never lay hands on a woman in anger. As a kid, I’d watched my father backhand my mother into the kitchen cabinets, the refrigerator, and most of our furniture. The notion of hurting anyone that way made my soul recoil.