She digested that. “That’s not what you said before.”

“I told you the situation was complicated, and that’s still true. But she’s not trying to reschedule a flight and running into delays. There’s more going on, which is why she called me. It’s doubtful she’ll resolve it right away.”

“Resolve what? What’s going on?”

I held up my hands. “She was in a hurry, and she didn’t want to answer questions. But she did say she won’t be using her phone anymore, so we won’t have any luck reaching her. You can stop trying.”

Her expression was a storm about to break. “Why wouldn’t she want to use her phone?”

“Like I said, she wants to do this alone. I’m sure she’ll explain the whole thing once she’s back.”

“You should have gotten more details!”

“Remember this came out of the blue. I tried.”

“Your sister does not behave this way. The whole thing is hard to believe.”

“For me, too.”

“This is so bad for your father. He counts on Wendy here and at work. You need to invent a story he’ll believe.”

Throughout our exchange, she had stared at the table as if the wood grain spelled answers. Now she looked up. “The girls will need an explanation, too. Later we can explain to your father that not telling him the whole truth was for his own good.”

When the time was right, I would have to explain the same thing to her. I felt a stab of resentment that my sister was putting all of us in this position.

I struggled to lighten the mood. “You’re asking me to make up a story out of thin air? To lie? Arlie Gracey, champion of the truth?”

“Ryan Rose.” She narrowed her eyes.

Wendy had told me to invent a story, too. The problem is that while I’m a writer, I don’t invent facts. I report them. Accurately. I certainly couldn’t report these.

I looked down at my unpolished toenails and thought out loud. “Dad’s not going to believe she’s staying away for a break. Not when she knows he’s had major surgery. He’s not going to believe the absence is work related. All he has to do is pick up a phone and check.” I looked up. “I can tell him she’s on a religious retreat, that while she was traveling she had a spiritual awakening.”

Mom looked skeptical. “She’s a Catholic. We’re awakened enough.”

“A friend’s in trouble? Someone from college? She’s afraid to leave because her friend has nobody else right now. She’s going to wait until things improve?”

“Too sketchy.” She sighed, as if our conversation was too grueling to endure. “Who’s the friend?”

“Somebody named...Chloe. They pledged the same sorority. Chloe helped Wendy out of a jam during their first year in college. Now she feels like she owes it to her to lend a hand.”

“There was nobody named Chloe in her sorority.”

I couldn’t believe Mom remembered the names of Wendy’s sorority sisters, or that she was nitpicking. “Choose any name you want.”