Free Lies Agreed Upon by Katherine Sharma

how I react can change if I understand the reasons for their behavior.”
    “I doub t you’ll solve your mysteries,” Christina sniffed. “If you think you’ll find some clue to your biggest mystery—I mean your mom’s suicide—you’re wasting your time.”
    “Don’t be such a pessimist,” retorted Jen quickly, taking in Tess’s pained expression and shooting a warning look at Christina for her trespass into the taboo subject of suicide. “I’m sorry, Tess, if I implied researching your family’s past isn’t worthwhile. It is something I think you need to do.”
    “Time out, girls,” responded Tess with a tired nod. “I think I’ll call it a night soon. I’m exhausted.”
    “Hey, Tess, don’t let us bully you,” said Christina, placing a sympathetic, calming hand on Tess’s arm. It caused Tess to realize how tensely she gripped the armchair.
    “Well, I got you a new crosswords book for the trip anyway,” added Jen. She hauled he rself up with a grunt and bustled to her bedroom. She returned with an oversized paperback book tied in red satin ribbon. “Happy conundrums,” she smiled as she handed it to Tess.
    “Oh, for God’s sake, Jen. Do you want her to hole up in a hotel room solving puzzles?” exclaimed Christina.
    “I said it’s for the plane trip,” defended Jen.
    “It’s like handing heroin to an addict,” Christina volleyed back.
    “Excuse me,” interrupted Tess, “I’m sitting right here, Christina. I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m planning to combine my trip with a vacat ion, not a retreat from reality.”
    “Well, you’ve been obsessed with those damn puzzle things for weeks,” sighed Christina. “It’s starting to get to me.”
    “I don’t understand what you mean,” answered Tess, feeling strangely hurt, as if accused of a petty, embarrassing vice.
    “Well, cro sswords are so, oh, determinant—with only one right way to make it work. And they’re so passive. You need to do things,” insisted Christina.
    “It’s a hobby. It helps me with stress,” insisted Tess.
    “It’s a crutch,” sniffed Christina. “It lets you ignore the world outside your head.”
    “Christina, you’ve got it ass-backwards,” protested Jen. “Puzzle-solving is a symptom, not a cause. Tess has been through a lot, but she’s working it out, so to speak.”
    “Well, I’m glad you two diagnosticians have decided my ‘puzzling’ disorder isn’t term inal,” remarked Tess.
    At Tess’s tart tone, Jen and Christina looked at her in surprise and then chagrin.
    “Sorry, Tess. We both care about you so much, we sometimes overstep, I guess,” mu mbled Jen.
    “I take back my concern over Jen’s gift,” added Christina. “I’m jealous that I didn’t think to give you a present. Of course, I would have made it something fun and sexy. Just promise me you’ll paint the town red—or the appropriate Mardi Gras colors of green, gold and purple, Jen’s favorite,” she finished, with a sly wink at the purple track suit.
    Tess laughed to smooth over the short lapse in camaraderie and then stood and stretched her heavy arms and tense neck. “It’s all from a place of love, I know,” she said with a yawn. “I’ll let you know when I finalize my plans and I’ll keep you updated on my adventures once I arrive. I’m only going for a couple of weeks, not emigrating.”
    Jen and Christina walked her to the door, and Tess departed amid hugs and well wishes.
    Back at her own apartment, she sat restlessly punching the TV remote. She stared blindly as bits of news, drama and advertisement flitted across the screen. At last she did what she had been trying to resist all evening and called Mac on her cell phone.
    “Mistake, mistake, mistake.”
    Tess ignored the critical hiss as she had ignored the living woman when it came to Mac Reese.
    Tess and Mac had officially parted just a month ago. Mac worked for an investment banking firm. He was tall and tanned, in season and