Two Truths and a Lie: A Novel (P.S.) PDF
Preview Two Truths and a Lie: A Novel (P.S.)
Two Truths and a Lie KATRINA KITTLE For Montgomery and Degas— I couldn’t have asked for more faithful friends or better teachers— and for Judy Keefner, who helped introduce me to them both. Contents Chapter One Dair was a habitual liar. Not pathological or anything, just… 1 Chapter Two We have to tell Marielle,” Dair whispered. Peyton nodded, but… 19 Chapter Three Peyton felt it the second Dair slipped away from him… 39 Chapter Four Dair and Marielle walked the dogs home. Dair regretted skipping… 49 Chapter Five Dair drove away from Gayle’s fearing for her own mental… 64 Chapter Six Peyton stood at the grill and searched for something to… 81 Chapter Seven Dair stuck close to Peyton as Marielle led them downstairs,… 98 Chapter Eight The dogs followed Dair, her mother, and Matt outside and… 111 Chapter Nine Marielle and Matt were tucked into Dair and Peyton’s guest… 121 Chapter Ten Knocking hammered in the back of Peyton’s head. Someone pounded… 133 Chapter Eleven Dair walked down Vine Street, calves burning, out of breath,… 149 Chapter Twelve As soon as her zoo shift ended, Dair wanted nothing… 159 Chapter Thirteen What Is Found, What Is Lost, What Is Remembered was… 179 Chapter Fourteen Both dogs barked and wriggled as Dair entered through the… 186 Chapter Fifteen Dair heard knocking. Was it that damn chickadee again? Her… 200 Chapter Sixteen Peyton almost whimpered along with Shodan as they watched Dair… 219 Chapter Seventeen Sitting next to Peyton at the funeral home, sensing his… 233 Chapter Eighteen Dair sat on Gayle’s back patio in a wicker chair,… 245 Chapter Nineteen The tension of the long drive, her jangled nerves, her… 256 Chapter Twenty Peyton sat on Malcolm’s Salvation Army couch watching an overcast,… 265 Chapter Twenty-One Dair sat miserably in the circle and wondered what she… 273 Chapter Twenty-Two The chickadee. The chickadee in her dreams. The chickadee that… 283 Chapter Twenty-Three Dair squealed onto her street, sending a little flock of… 301 Chapter Twenty-Four Peyton pulled onto his street, surprised that Dair’s car was… 306 Chapter Twenty-Five 317 Dair should have known this was where Matt would run,… Chapter Twenty-Six Cold seeped through Dair’s jeans and sweater. 328 Chapter Twenty-Seven Peyton ran down the street toward the zoo, the police… 331 Chapter Twenty-Eight Dair vaguely remembered parts of the hospital. She couldn’t keep… 335 Chapter Twenty-Nine When Dair woke up Monday morning, Peyton was gone. 341 Chapter Thirty Later that day Peyton and her parents took Dair home. 350 Acknowledgments About the Author Other Books by Katrina Kittle Credits Cover Copyright About the Publisher Chapter One Dair was a habitual liar. Not pathological or anything, just…recreational. As she drove through Cincinnati on her way to Interstate 75, she mulled over the lie she’d tell her husband when she reached the airport. So often the truth needed a little spicing up. What lie would she tell Peyton today? Traffic crawled on Clifton Avenue, and she cursed, realizing she’d forgotten about the University of Cincinnati’s football game. She glanced at her watch; she’d be cutting it close. What could she tell Peyton had made her late? Dair knew the secret to a good lie was to include as much of the truth as possible. This meant, however, that she had to be sure to remember which part was the truth and which part the lie. Forgetting or, worse—believing her own lies—was a dangerous line she feared to cross. Sometimes, though, she lied because the truth was already so amazing that no one believed it. Sometimes the truth needed to be tampered with just so people didn’t assume it was a lie. She checked on the dogs in the rearview mirror. They rode conten- tedly along in the backseat. The car windows were up, the air-condition- ing on, the day unseasonably hot for this late, drought-dry October. Blizzard, their imposing Great Pyrenees, licked Dair’s sleeveless shoulder, leaving a string of drool. “Our guy is coming home,” she said, reaching back to pet his long white hair. “We gotta share the bed again.” Shodan, their black Doberman, looked out the window and yawned 2 / Katrina Kittle at the Victorian homes passing by, the avenue lined with stately trees and old gas streetlights. What were the true things she’d actually done today that she could shape into a more interesting story? This morning she’d taught her acting class at the Playhouse in the Park. Then she’d been to the liquor store, but she didn’t exactly want to tell Peyton that, because he might ask why she hadn’t just bought the celebratory champagne at the grocery store. He wouldn’t be suspicious, he’d just be curious, and it would make her feel too small to explain to him that she’d also had to buy a bottle of wine to replace the bottle of wine she’d already replaced five times since he’d been on tour. Dair worried that the same pink-faced high school boy would be her cashier at the grocery, a boy who’d taken one of her acting classes, who might someday make an innocent refer- ence about her wine purchases in front of Peyton. Dair drove under 1-75 and inched toward the entrance ramp to the notoriously gridlocked highway. Some damn event always snarled up the traffic: a Reds or Bengals game at Riverfront Stadium or some concert at Riverbend…. Dair wanted to kick herself for not opting to go through downtown. In the car ahead of her, some college-age kids passed a beer around. She thought longingly of that replacement bottle of wine. The bottle was from their party stash—the gifts people brought to gatherings at their house that never got opened before everyone went home. Dair and Peyton kept them in a cupboard with the bread machine they rarely used, and it gave Dair great pleasure every time she drew attention to them, as they left for this cast party or that season opener, announcing, “Hey, there’s still wine left from the New Year’s party. Let’s take a bottle with us.” She felt such satisfaction handing Peyton a bottle identical to the bottle that Craig, perhaps, or Marielle had brought to their house. Peyton didn’t guess that it was the sixth such bottle that had been there, the original and all its substitutes wrapped in newspaper and tucked into someone else’s recycling bin down the street. So…she could tell Peyton she’d been to the grocery store and develop her story from there. What could’ve happened? An armed robbery? No, too much follow-up. Maybe someone had an epileptic seizure? Hmm…that had promise, but why would she have to stay
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