Page 59 of The Good Guy on My Porch

“Right.” I was sweating. Why was I sweating? And why were they suddenly so interested in my love life? They’d never questioned me before…Had they? I might not have noticed, because in the past my boyfriends had been real or at least well-planned and researched. Jerome had been created in a hurry because everyone had heard about my break-up with the open-marriage professor. Professor of adultery? I just had to focus and remember what they called orphanages now. “I meant…Um, group homes for foster kids.”

“How sweet of him,” Leah said. Why were her eyes narrowed? And was that sarcasm in her tone? What the hell was going on?

“What’s the name of his church, dear?” Mary asked. “I used the Internet and searched all the churches in Carmichael and Richmond, but none of them are led by anyone named Jerome.”

Okay, this was going too far. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she thinks you’re lying,” Betty said, her expression pinched like she’d tasted something sour. “We all think you’re lying.”

“Betty, hush,” Norma Jane said.

Betty glared at Norma Jane and rolled her eyes, but she didn’t say any more.

Okay, now I was sweating and my stomach hurt. Was I coming down with something? “Why would you think…I mean, why would I lie about something like that?”

“That’s what we want to know,” Mary said. “Why are you lying about having a boyfriend, Dilly? You know we all love you and want the best for you. We think Oscar is the best for you, so we did a little research to check out his competition, but nothing was adding up.”

And now my fear of being caught out in a lie was turning to anger. “Who I date or don’t date isn’t your business, ladies. I do just fine on my own.”

“If you were doing just fine, you wouldn’t have been shacking up with a guy who was married,” Leah said. I stared at her in shock. I hadn’t realized she had it in her.

Norma Jane took my hands in both of hers and gave them a squeeze. “We feel like you’re one of ours, Dilly, and we want you to be happy. Just tell us the name of the church where your boyfriend works or bring him in, so we can meet him. That way, we can see for ourselves what a good guy he is and we won’t have to worry anymore.”

I had enough trouble with my mother worrying about me, I didn’t need a whole posse of women worrying about me, too. There was only one safe way out of this situation, only one way to make sure they went back to paying me only the most minimal attention. I’d just have to hope Oscar didn’t hate me for throwing him under the bus. “The truth is, Jerome and I broke up. I couldn’t do the long-distance thing anymore. I’m dating Oscar, now, so you don’t need to worry.”

The room erupted in cheers and smiles. Even Betty smiled. It was a small smile, but it still counted.

“Now that’s settled, can we talk about the book?”

Everyone agreed to do what we were there to do and chatted about the book. I was relieved when the meeting was finally over. I stood at the door and wished them a good week as they filed out. Mary was the last to leave and she stopped in front of me, her expression creased with worry. “I stopped by your mother’s place again yesterday,” she said. “I knocked, and I heard someone moving around in there, but she didn’t answer the door.”

“She…She wears noise-canceling headphones when she’s working,” I said. “She probably just didn’t hear you.”

Mary pinched her lips tight and put a hand on my shoulder. “Have her call me, dear, at her earliest convenience. She was my daughter’s friend in high school, you know. Always such a sweet, well-mannered girl, your mother was. I’d like to know how she’s doing.”

“She’s doing great.”

Mary nodded, doubt in her eyes. “Just have her call me, Daffodil.”

Mary walked away, and my head started to pound. On the one hand, I wanted to be angry at Mary and the others for interrogating me, but on the other hand, I knew they only did it because they cared about me. They loved me like one of their own grandkids and I’d lied to them. I lied to them every day. I was the worst kind of person. I wrapped my arms tight around my belly and swallowed hard. I hated this. I hated lying and I hated even more that I was certain all my secrets were going to be discovered and my life would change in ways I couldn’t even imagine.

I squeezed myself harder. Maybe it was time to stop keeping secrets, maybe it was time to admit the truth. My mother was mentally ill, it was nothing to be ashamed of…My mother would never see it that way, but maybe a visit with Mary would bring Mom some happiness, maybe it would help her forget her fears for a moment.

“Hey, Dilly,” Gill, the director of the children’s’ library, said as he passed. “You feeling okay?”

“I’m wonderful.” Apparently, I just couldn’t stop lying. “Just about to head over to Seven Oaks for their session today.”

“Great.” He stepped closer and gave me a warm smile. He was a kind man and his husband made the best chocolate chip cookies I’d ever tasted. None of us who worked at the library asked for cake on our birthday anymore, we all asked for Ed’s chocolate chip cookies. “If you have time later, I’d like to discuss an idea I had for a children’s program that might combine with your outreach.”

“Cool. I should be back around two. I’ll come by your office.”

He slapped my shoulder. “I’ll see you then.”

I watched him walk away and rubbed my aching temples. I had no one to blame but myself for this mess I was in. I was just going to have to buck up and get over it.

***

My head ached, and I was exhausted when I turned to my front walk and saw Oscar sitting on the porch. After a busy day at work, I’d stopped by Mom’s and had tried to convince her to call Mary. She’d screamed at me for not telling Mary right away that it was impossible. I’d tried to explain that Mary was only worried about her, but Mom wasn’t hearing it. She launched into a tirade about how this was just another ruse to get her to move to New Hampshire and, if I really loved her, I’d protect her from nosy people. Then, she’d started in on all the times I’d let her down and how selfish I was and how I was probably wishing for her to die. I wished my aunt was there to help, but she’d called me the day before and told me she was going to stay longer in Italy.

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