said.
“It’s a cold soup,” Patricia said. “From Italy.”
“Gross,” Blue said, coming in with four bags of Pepperidge Farm cookies clutched to his chest.
“It’s perfect for warm weather,” Patricia smiled. “I’ll copy the recipe down for you before you go.”
“Look,” Carter said, in his business voice, and Patricia looked at him, trying to convey in the secret language of married couples that they needed to stay absolutely normal because they were in more danger than he knew right this minute.
Carter made eye contact and Patricia flicked her eyes from her husband to James Harris and put everything inside her heart, everything they shared in their marriage, she put it all into her eyes in a way only he could see, and he got it. Play it safe, her eyes said. Play dumb.
Carter broke eye contact and turned to James Harris.
“We need to clear the air,” he said. “You have to realize that Patty feels terrible about what she said to the police.”
Patricia felt like Carter had cracked open her chest and dumped ice cubes inside. Anything she could say froze in her throat.
“What did Mom do?” Blue asked.
“I think it’s better if you hear it from your mother,” James Harris said.
Patricia saw James Harris and Carter both watching her. James Harris wore a sincere mask but Patricia knew that behind it he was laughing at her. Carter wore his Serious Man face.
“I thought Mr. Harris had done something wrong,” Patricia told Blue, pushing the words through her constricted throat. “But I was confused.”
“It wasn’t much fun having the police stop by my house today,” James Harris said.
“You called the police on him?” Blue asked, astounded.
“I feel awful about all this,” Carter said. “Patty?”
“I’m sorry,” Patricia said, faintly.
“We cleared it all up,” James Harris said. “Mostly it was just embarrassing to have a police car parked in front of my house since I’m new here. You know how these small neighborhoods are.”
“What did you do?” Blue asked James Harris.
“Well, it’s a little adult,” James Harris said. “Your mother should really be the one to tell you.”
Patricia felt trapped by Carter and James Harris, and the unfairness of it all made her feel wild. This was her house, this was her family, she hadn’t done anything wrong. She could ask everyone to leave, right this minute. But she had done something wrong, hadn’t she? Because Destiny Taylor was crying herself to sleep without her mother right this minute.
“I…,” she began, and it died in the dining room air.
“Your mother thought he had done something inappropriate with a child,” Carter said. “But she was absolutely, one hundred percent wrong. I want you to know, son, we would never invite someone into this house who might harm you or your sister in any way. Your mother meant well but she wasn’t thinking clearly.”
James Harris kept staring at Patricia.
“Yes,” she said. “I was mixed up.”
The silence stretched on and Patricia realized what they were waiting for. She looked hard at her plate.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice so faint she barely heard it.
James Harris bit noisily into a Pepperidge Farm Mint Milano and chewed. In the silence, she could hear his teeth grinding it to pulp, and then he swallowed and she heard the wad of chewed-up cookie slide down his throat, past that thing.
“Well,” James Harris said, “I have to run but don’t worry—I can’t be too mad at your mom. After all, we’re neighbors. And you’ve been so kind to me since I moved in.”
“I’ll show you out,” Patricia said, because she didn’t know what else to say.
She walked through the dark front hall in front of James Harris and felt him leaning forward to say something. She couldn’t take it. She couldn’t handle one more word. He was so smug.
“Patricia…,” he began, voice low.
She snapped on the hall light. He flinched, squinting and blinking. A teardrop leaked from one eye. It was childish, but it made