Free Why Men Lie by Linden MacIntyre Page A

just plain old.
    “Let me introduce you properly,” said Cassie, gamely. “This is Mom—call her Effie. No more Dr. or Mrs. Gillis. And this is Ray. Ray Cameron.”
    “Cameron,” said Effie. “There’s a familiar name.”
    “I’m not sure where it’s from,” Ray said. “Dad was born in the north of England. I was born in Quebec, the Abitibi. Dad followed the mining. We ended up in Sudbury. More than that, I haven’t got a clue.”
    “Your dad is …?”
    “Going on ninety-four,” he said. “Mom is just a year younger. I’ve got the genes, if nothing else.”
    The obvious question was, of course, suppressed.
    “Well, come in and close the door, and make yourself at home. I was just going to whip up something simple. Cassie, get yourself and Ray something to drink.”
    Cassie was already at the hutch that served as Effie’s bar, examining the labels. Effie realized her hand was shaking. A chill, she told herself, from standing at the door.
    “Ray,” Cassie said. “What about you?”
    “I’ll just have a ginger ale or juice. Whatever’s there.”
    My God
, thought Effie.
Along with everything else, a non-drinker
.
    Ray was now sitting. He’d picked up the book of poetry from the coffee table. “This is …”
    “Gaelic,” she said. “The language of your ancestors.”
    He laughed and put it down.
    Cassie was perched on the arm of his chair, a languid arm across his shoulder, left hand glinting.
    “I see you’ve acquired some new bling,” Effie said.
    “Nothing fancy,” Cassie said, raising the hand.
    “Nothing fancy?” said Ray, in mock surprise.
    “So when should we expect …”
    “We aren’t in a rush,” said Cassie. “But probably at Easter,” said Ray.
    “By the way,” said Cassie. “Where’s the lovely Mr. Campbell? I half-expected he’d be here.”
    “Not to alarm you, but JC’s in the hospital. He had a fall on the street, hit his head. They’ve kept him in for a few days. Observation, mostly.”
    Ray looked concerned. “Which hospital?”
    “The General, but look, it’s really nothing.”
    Ray and Cassie suddenly seemed grave.
    “Come on,” said Effie. “JC would be appalled if he could see your faces. Ray, surely to God you’ll join us in a real drink.”
    “What the hell,” Ray said.
    At the dinner table, it was Ray who brought the subject to the fore. “I suppose we shouldn’t let too much time go by before dealing with the elephant.”
    He smiled and Effie put her fork down, refilled her wineglass and reached for Cassie’s glass, but Cassie stopped her.
    “Well,” she said. “The elephant, eh?”
    “I’m sure it’s on your mind. It’s a question I get a lot.”
    “Right,” she said. “It really doesn’t mean anything anymore …”
    “Exactly,” he said. “So when I’m asked by some nosy person, ‘How come you aren’t married at your age?’ I just laugh.”
    “There seems to be an assumption,” said Cassie, “that if you aren’t married at a certain age there’s something wrong with you.”
    Effie’s eyes darted from one to the other, waiting. “Okay,” she said.
    “Fact is, I’ve been married twice,” Ray said.
    Effie exhaled. “Is that all?”
    Ray laughed. “Thank you. Twice is a lot, to some people. Like my parents.”
    “I mean, is that the elephant you had in mind?” said Effie.
    “Well … What else do you want to know?”
    She paused for a moment, then asked, “How old are you, Ray?”
    He seemed surprised. “Fifty-eight.”
    “Fifty-eight,” she repeated. “I must say, you don’t look it.”
    “I get that a lot. But that’s my age. I have proof.” His smile made him look half that.
    “You have family?”
    “Boy and a girl. We spent Christmas together.”
    “I’m assuming they live with their mother,” Effie said.
    He laughed. His daughter worked in public relations for Inco. The boy was in his third year at med school. Following in the old man’s footsteps. The daughter was the elder. Her