Page 11 of The Liar in Room 5

Gone was the guy with the easy smile who’d invited me to a park for reasons I still didn’t understand. He was replaced by a stern gentleman who interrupted my spiral.

“Whatever label you settle on, you’re not giving yourself enough grace. Either way, it’s not a definition.”

I wanted to scoff, but first, I would never, and second, there were things way worse than being a sex worker, accidental or otherwise. At least they helped people. So if I was one, that made me a giver, and that had to count for some kind of karma points. Altruistic might be a stretch, but maybe there was some level of redemption in my future.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I very much do.”

Maybe I should have sat up straight so Henry would move his hand away. Or told him to stop so he’d move on. Or maybe I could have gotten up and started walking again, but I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I sat exactly where I was and let Henry rub circles on my back. The urge to arch into his touch was almost overwhelming, but somehow, I managed to preserve a little dignity and avoid it.

But I really, really wanted to.

“So preschool matters?”

“Oh, you have no idea. It completely sets your child on their path. Miss out on a great preschool, they won’t get into a good elementary school and then forget a halfway decent high school. They’ll be done before they even have a chance to get started.”

“What have you decided for Ben?” I asked Marc with complete sincerity. At his name, we all glanced at the child, and Henry groaned.

Ben, as adorable as he was, had found the only mud puddle in the park. He was covered in it, with only the whites of his eyes and teeth shining bright against the mucky goo.

“What the fuck?” Henry whispered under his breath.

“Goddamn it.” Marc sighed.

Rather than have any awareness of the mess he’d made of himself, and how hard getting him home without destroying the inside of his dad’s car would be, Ben waved happily and returned to making pies in the mud.

“I love him, but he’s my punishment,” Marc said.

“Jesus, Marc, he’s not that bad,” Henry protested. “Sure, I don’t let him over at my house before I put a tarp over everything, but that’s harsh.”

“Ha! Say that after you have one and then tell me,” Marc protested. “Andy, what about you?”

“Kids are all right but a little messy.” Even to my own ears, my tone rang hollow.

The men I’d dated had always been clear they weren’t interested in kids. If I’d thought maybe at one time I’d like a few of my own, the idea of it had faded. Somehow, my eyes found their way to Henry again. Rather than seeming to agree with me, as I’d expected, he appeared to be contemplating my reaction. It was too intense to keep watching him watch me, so I turned my attention back to the menace bathing in mud.

“Oh no, he’s coming this way,” Henry laughed. Despite the warning, Henry hadn’t moved a muscle to avoid the grinning, messy kid barreling across the grass toward us.

“I love that kid, but, damn, I’m tired,” Marc sighed.

Ben’s sweet smile tugged at something inside me that I didn’t understand or have words for. Before anyone could stop me, I jumped up from the picnic table we were sitting around and intercepted Ben.

“Hey, Ben, can I show you something?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.” I laughed. Without prompting, Ben slipped his grimy hand into mine and then looked up at me expectantly. “It’s time to hunt for roly-polies.”

“What’s that?” he asked with adorable suspicion.

But he wasn’t concerned enough to take his hand out of mine, and I instinctively squeezed his fingers a little.

“Roly-polies are cool insects that live under rocks and curl into balls.”

“We gonna roll ’em?”

“Oh no, they like to roll themselves. If we’re careful, we can pick them up, okay?”