Free Things You Should Know by A.M. Homes Page B

are as odd as they seem.
    Her mother answers on the first ring.
    “Where were you?” she blurts.
    “I was in the closet, looking for something.”
    “I’ve been trying to call you for hours, why do you sound so strange?”
    “Strange?”
    “Breathless.”
    “I was in the closet—foraging. What do you mean you’ve been calling for hours, we just got home. We had concert tickets.”
    “I didn’t know where you were. I was worried.”
    “We’re adults, Susan. We’re allowed to go out.” She pauses. “What day is it?”
    “Wednesday.”
    “You usually call on Sunday.”
    “I was thinking of coming home.”
    “When?”
    “This weekend.”
    “Well, I don’t know what our schedule is like. I’ll have to check. What’s new?” her mother asks, changing the subject.
    “Not much. I must have dialed your number a hundred times—first I couldn’t get through, then I got the machine, and the last few times some man answered. I was beginning to feel like I was losing my mind.”
    “That must have been Ray.”
    “Ray?”
    “A friend of your father’s.”
    “Daddy doesn’t have any friends.”
    “This is someone he met at one of his classes—I think he’s lonely, he brought his cat. It’s good you’re not here.” She is allergic to cats.
    “I thought it was me, I thought I dialed wrong. Why didn’t he identify himself? Why didn’t he say, Green residence? Why didn’t he just say—I’m the one who’s out of place?”
    “I don’t know,” her mother says.
    “Did Daddy go with you to the concert?”
    “Of course—he drove.”
    “What was this Ray doing at the house when you weren’t home?”
    “Haven’t I mentioned him?”
    “No.”
    “Really? You would think I would have—he’s staying with us.”
    There is a long pause.
    “Mother—could you just check with your doctor, couldyou just say, my daughter is concerned. She thinks I don’t remember. She thinks I forget. Could you do me the favor and ask the doctor if everything is all right?”
    “The truth is when I’m in there, I don’t think of it.”
    “You forget.”
    “I’m in that paper gown. Who can think of anything when you feel like at any second it might come undone?”
    “How long has this Ray been around?
    “A couple of weeks. He’s a lovely guy. You’d like him. He’s very tidy.”
    “Is he paying rent?”
    “No,” her mother says, horrified. “He’s a friend of your father’s.” She changes the subject. “Where’s Steve?”
    “At the game.” As she says it, she hears Steve at the door. She hurries to get off the phone. “I’ll call you tomorrow, we’ll figure out the weekend.” She snaps the bedroom light off.
    She hears Steve in the living room, opening the mail. She hears him in the kitchen, opening the fridge. She sees his shadow pass down the hall. He is in the bathroom, peeing, then brushing his teeth. He comes into the bedroom, half undressed. “It’s only me,” Steve says. “Don’t get excited.”
    She doesn’t respond.
    “Are you in here?” He turns on the light.
    “I just spoke to my mother.”
    “Yeah? It’s Wednesday—don’t you normally talk to them on Sunday?”
    “There is a strange man living at the house. He’s been there for two weeks—she forgot to tell me. A friend of my father’s.”
    “Your father doesn’t have any friends.”
    “Exactly.”
    “Maybe if you’d waited and called on Sunday, he wouldn’t have been there.” Steve pulls his T-shirt off and drops it onto the floor.
    “Not funny.” She gestures toward the hamper. “I was thinking I should go and see my parents this weekend—that’swhy I was calling. I haven’t been in a long time. But I can’t exactly go home if this guy is there.”
    “Stay in a hotel.”
    She sits up to set the alarm. “I’m not staying in a hotel. Am I going to have to do some sort of intervention, kidnap my parents and reprogram them?”
    “It’s deprogram.”
    “How’s Bill?”
    “Good.”
    “Did you ask