Real Life & Liars Read Online Free PDF

be disappointed to see Mira’s usualassortment of transfat-free brown-flour sugarless fare. Kit hops out, those damn white iPod cords trailing from her ears. She pops an air-kiss in Mira’s direction and bops off to find a comfy chair for her texting. Katya had only asked her to take out the earbuds, just long enough to say hello. Such a simple request.
    “A pedicure? Those boys should have carried those bags for you.”
    “I can handle the bags. I mean tomorrow morning, when we get your hair done. You remember, I mentioned it yesterday?”
    Mira chews on her lip and looks Katya in the eye. “No, can’t say that I do. Well, a hairdo is fine, then. No sense bothering with the feet, though, those shoes you picked out will cover up my nasty old paws anyhow.”
    Katya slams the Escalade door with her hip as Charles comes around and takes the bags from her hands, a mere nod in Mira’s direction.
    “He’s tired,” she says to her mother. She takes Mira’s elbow, and they go up the stairs together, through the back porch, and into the kitchen. Charles is already on his cell phone, and the boys have turned on the television upstairs in the guest room; Katya can hear an abrasive commercial through the floorboards. Mira never watches television herself; the small one in the guest room is a concession for her grandchildren, but even that doesn’t have cable. She can see Kit’s feet over the arm of an overstuffed violet-leather chair in the front room, tapping to some beat throbbing into her ears.
    The kids consider it near purgatory to visit their grandmother these days.
    “Your siblings should be here shortly,” announces Mira, walking to a cutting board with vegetables and a big knife. She starts going at a piece of celery. “Dad will be down when he finishes his paragraph.”
    “Or his chapter, or his whole damn book,” Katya says with a sigh. She catches Charles’s eye and sends him a glance, whichafter fifteen years of marriage he should very well know means Get off the damn phone and be sociable.
    He pretends not to see her, though his eyes are trained squarely on her forehead. Katya might as well be a fax machine for all the emotion in his gaze.
    Katya glances at her watch. Nearly 5 P.M. , almost her self-permitted wine time.
    “Did you hear that Van isn’t bringing a date after all?” Katya gets up to go rummaging for a Diet Coke. Mira usually has lemonade and mineral water, but to humor guests she keeps some soda around.
    “No, he didn’t say that. That’s too bad.”
    “Not exactly surprising, though is it? I have yet to see him bring a girl to any family function.”
    Chop, chop, chop, goes Mira’s blade, now on a red pepper. “Not everyone meets the man of their dreams at college freshman orientation.” She shoots Katya a look through a lock of silvery hair that’s fallen over the side of her face.
    “I didn’t start dating him right away. I had my share of duds, believe me.” Kat jumps up from the table and takes the knife from her mother. “Here, let me do the salad.”
    Katya doesn’t have to ask what’s for dinner. Spaghetti, as always when they come to visit. The only Mirabelle meal the kids will tolerate. Mira says, “Did he call you? Did he say what happened?”
    “No. But it’ll be yet another instance of picking a girl completely wrong for him, same as the last dozen.”
    “Katya.”
    “Well, I’m sorry. But look at the girls he tries to date. They’re too old, or too young, or dating three other guys at once, or they can barely spell. He’s so…” Katya waves the knife in the air, searching for the word. “Self-sabotaging.”
    Mira leans against the kitchen counter, having put the water onto boil. She absentmindedly braids a strand of her hair. “He’s not the most savvy of men, that’s for sure.”
    Katya snorts. “Oh, and if he does happen to find a nice girl, he comes on so strong she makes a break for the exit. Remember the time he invited a girl he barely knew