Page 15 of The Five Year Lie

“You bet. Are you ready to clean up so we can go home and eat them?”

He jumps off the chair with a louder thump than a forty-pound human ought to be capable of.

But nobody yells. Ray doesn’t even flinch.

“Wait, wash your hands in the bathroom,” Ray says instead. “With soap, to get the food coloring off.”

“Okay, Raybo.”

Raybo.That’s a new one. I right a fallen box of baking soda and grab a sponge to wipe up the counter.

“Ariel, I need to tell you something,” Ray says, his voice low.

His serious tone makes my pulse skitter. I drop the sponge. “What is it?”

His expression softens. “Christ, it’s nothing bad. This afternoon I took your mother out to lunch and asked her to marry me. And she said yes.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

It takes me a long beat to rearrange my dizzied thoughts andthink up an appropriate response. We’ve officially become the weirdest family in Portland. “C-congratulations,” I finally stutter.

He actually laughs. “Ariel, honey. Thank you. But you don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Hold back.” He shakes his head slowly, his expression tender. “I know we’re not an ordinary family. It doesn’t bother me to acknowledge it. And whateverHamletjoke you just made in your head, I’m here for it.”

I feel a spark of irritation. There are reasons why I’m not a sharer. Good ones. And I learned that habit right in this very house. “I feel fine about the marriage,” I insist. “You and Mom have been a thing for a while.” And this doesn’t even make the top ten shocking things I’ve had to think about today. “Where is she, anyway?”

“She had a little appointment,” Ray says. His eyes flick toward the door. “Dr. Benti.”

“Oh,” I say slowly. Dr. Benti is Mom’s psychiatrist. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” he says quietly. “Your mother assured me she’s fine.”

So it’s normal for the newly engaged to request an emergency psych appointment with their shrink?

I almost say that out loud. Almost. But therapy has been good to me, so there’s no reason for my cynicism. And the back door opens suddenly.

My mother calls out a cheerful hello. “Buzzy, are you still here? I brought you something.”

“Grandma!” He scurries into the kitchen and around the island. “What is it?”

I grab the sponge and continue cleaning baking soda off thecounter. My mother enters the kitchen a moment later, beaming. “Here’s my Buzzy bee! I stopped for cupcakes on my way home. I’ll send some of them home with you.”

“Cupcakes!” Buzz yells, and I hold back a sigh. Icing makes him hyper. They’d better be mini cupcakes.

“Hey, doll,” Ray says, crossing the room to kiss her, while I pretend not to notice.

It’s just hitting me that there will be a wedding. Not a huge one—my mother will keep it small. She’s very proper, and she abhors ostentatiousness. I once heard her say that elaborate second weddings are gauche.

But still. I’ll have to smile big and pretend to believe in happily-ever-afters. As if those were real.

When I glance at my mother, she’s standing closer to Ray than usual. Her hand is on his chest, and her smile is wide. “How was your afternoon?” she asks him softly.

“Well, there were several volcanic eruptions in the kitchen,” he says with mock gravity.