Lies You Wanted to Hear by James Whitfield Thomson Page B

a few envelopes. Her snub took me a little aback; she’d become much more amiable since Matt the Light Bulb Changer started coming around. I glanced through the mail as I walked up the stairs to my apartment on the third floor, happy to see that one of the envelopes was a blue aerogram, a rare letter from my brother Mark, who was working in New Zealand.
    “Hey, babe,” a voice above me said.
    I looked up, so startled I dropped Mark’s letter and nearly lost my balance.
    “Oh my god, Griffin, what’re you…?”
    “Sorry.” He stood on the landing, grinning, the apartment door open behind him. “I didn’t mean to make you jump out of your skin.”
    I picked up the letter and charged up the stairs, pushing him aside as he tried to put his arms around me. He followed me into the apartment and closed the door. His parka was lying on the coffee table. Through the doorway of my bedroom, I could see my half-packed suitcase sitting on the foot of my bed. Matt was coming to pick me up in less than an hour.
    I spun around. “Griffin, this is insane. You can’t come barging into—”
    “Lucy, I’m sorry.” He lifted his empty hands. “You’re right, I should have called first. I tried ringing the bell, but you weren’t home, and I still had my key so I…” He gave me a coy shrug. He’d grown a short beard, more red than blond.
    “This is unbelievable. What do you want ? What are you doing here? You’ve been gone for eight months. Then all of a sudden you show up and what ? We pick up where we left off? Or are you just passing through, looking for a quick fuck?”
    He seemed genuinely hurt, a look I was unfamiliar with. “I came back to see you. I just want to talk.”
    “Talk? Really? What was that clever little maxim you used to say? The more time we spend talking about us, the less us-ness there is to talk about.”
    “Come on, baby, just listen. I’ve had a lot of time to think since I’ve been gone, and there’s one thing I know for certain—no matter how fast I run or how far I go, every road keeps leading me back to you.”
    I rolled my eyes.
    “I know you’re skeptical,” he said. “Hell, you should be. But here’s the simple truth. I love you, Lucy. I love you and I need you in my life. I tried a hundred different times to say that over the telephone, but I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. Afraid I wouldn’t believe it myself. I had to come here and say it face to face. If it’s too late, I…” His head drooped in desolation.
    I would have given a queen’s ransom to hear him say this six months ago. But what did it matter now if his words were true?
    “I’m sorry, Griffin. You need to go.”
    “I don’t want to lose you, Luce.”
    “Please, go.”
    He stared at me for a moment, then nodded and held out his hands. “A kiss for the road?”
    “Go.” I took a step backward; I didn’t want him to touch me. “Get the fuck out of here!”
    He nodded, then angled his head toward the doorway of the bedroom. “Looks like you’re going somewhere for the weekend?”
    I shrugged.
    “What’s his name?”
    “What difference does it make?”
    “Just tell me his name.”
    “Matt. His name is Matt.”
    “Are you in love with him?”
    “He’s everything you’re not, Griffin. Gentle, reliable, honest, faithful .”
    “That’s not what I asked.”
    “Yes, I’m in love with him.”
    He took out a cigarette and offered me one. I shook my head, and he shrugged and lit his own. “What time is he picking you up?”
    “In about forty-five minutes.” There was a ripple of panic in my throat. “I want you to go.”
    “No, I think I’ll hang around and meet this fellow. Congratulate him on winning my girl.”
    “Please, Griffin, don’t do this.”
    “Lucy, I came back for you . I’m not going to turn around meekly and walk out of your life.”
    I was on the verge of tears, my voice a whisper. “Please, you have to go.”
    “All you have to do when he gets here is look me in