“When I knew what I was telling you.”
Linda laughed bitterly.
“You’ve been seeing him behind my back.”
“I’ve been talking to him.”
“You rented him that apartment, didn’t you?”
Mark didn’t answer quickly enough.
She looked at me.
“See? He has been lying too.”
I held up a hand.
“Nobody in this room gets to use somebody else’s lie to excuse their own.”
Linda’s mouth closed.
Then I pointed toward the underwear.
“And somebody still needs to explain those.”
Mark looked at them.
For the first time, recognition crossed his face.
“Oh.”
I stared at him.
“Oh?”
“They’re Ryan’s.”
Linda turned toward me so fast I actually stepped back.
I saw exactly where her mind went.
Mark did too.
“No.”
Linda frowned.
“No what?”
“She has never met Ryan.”
I looked at him.
“Correct.”
“Then why are his underwear in your bedroom?” Linda demanded.
Mark picked them up with two fingers and looked miserable. He said, “A few days before our trip, the plumbing in Ryan’s apartment stopped working. He had an appointment that afternoon, so I told him he could shower here.”
“You brought him into our house without telling me?”
“I know.”
“Apparently that phrase is going to be doing a lot of work today.”
Mark winced.
“He changed clothes here. He left some things behind. I put them near the laundry because I was going to return them.”
I looked at Linda.
“Then how did they end up under the pillow?”
She stiffened.
Mark stared at her.
“Mom?”
Linda looked away.
“I found them near the laundry.”
“You moved them?”
“I wanted you to see them.”
My anger came back instantly.
“You staged them?”
“I didn’t bring them here.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She lifted her voice.
“I found another man’s underwear in your bedroom!”
“Near the laundry.”
