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Back The Lying House Save as PDF
Chapters (103)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. 85
  92. 86
  93. 87
  94. 88
  95. 89
  96. 90
  97. 91
  98. 92
  99. 93
  100. 94
  101. Epilogue
  102. Acknowledgments and a Personal Note
  103. Excerpt

The sleepwalking, the phone. What’s going on?

Lisa turned back to her side pretending to be asleep while staring at the wall, too tired to ask him and risk starting something.

She tried to get back to sleep, but the questions kept coming.

Why had he kept California a secret? Is he keeping something else from me?

14

The next morning, Lisa woke determined to start reclaiming her life.

After breakfast and seeing Jeff off, she launched into a morning workout of leg lifts, squats and push-ups. Then, holding her light weights, she punched at the air and her frustration.

Joy and Jeff were right. She had to get control. And Jeff was doing his best to be supportive. He was. But she couldn’t dismiss feeling a bit neglected these days because he was married to his ambition.

Lisa got that.

Switching into a shoulder stand to bicycle her legs, she remembered how they’d met nine years ago at a party for one of his clients, one that her company had also done research for. He had those Bambi eyes, full of feeling, yet there was a quiet mystery about him.

“I’m a street kid from Chicago,” he’d said after they’d started dating and opening up to each other. He’d told her how his parents were blue-collar factory workers before his father was killed, how he and his mother ended up on the street, living in their van and shelters.

Jeff was smarter than most kids and, despite his hardships, did well in school while working at jobs to help with bills. As he got older, he continued helping his mother until she died of heart failure. He earned scholarships, worked part-time, took out loans and put himself through college, determined never to work in a factory or be on the street again. He excelled in advertising. And after interning at Asgaard-T-Chace Group in Chicago, he landed a job in the company’s Cleveland office.

Lisa couldn’t help herself. At times she thought of him as a quiet, mistreated pup no one wanted. She had so many reasons for loving him the way she did. He was the only person who knew and truly understood the secret guilt she carried for Stacey’s death because he carried the same feeling over his father’s death.