Knot a Liar (Knotted Up Book 1) by Rose Ann Bridges

boys anymore at 27 and 29. You are men. You have been men for a while now. I tire of this perpetual frustration with you both. Sandra, Koya, goodnight.” He gets up takes Lydia’s hand and leads her from the dining room.
    We all stay seated digesting the only bits of deception that lays bare in the atmosphere. Koya sighs, crinkles her nose one last time before making a retreat as well.
    Sam shakes his head at Max, sighs, then says, “You just had to, right, Max? Ready to go home, Sandra?”
    I take a minute to think and look around at the remains of my own averted disaster before shaking my head, “I want to help clean up first.”
    “You sure you don’t want to go home right now?” Sam looks in earnest as if wants to escape the dinner table. Surely, the promise of a personal apocalypse taunts and jeers at him as much as it does me.
    While I sympathize, something holds me back from escaping as well. “No, I won’t be long. It’s not right your mother is left with all this.”
    Sam sighs and again looks over at Max as he excuses himself from the dining table. “Let me help.”
    “Let me use the bathroom first. Where is it by the way?” The sudden desire to urinate is weird.
    “Down this hall, second door on the left.” He leads me out the dining room before pointing the way.
    I come from the bathroom to overhear Sam, Patricia and Max in conversation in the kitchen.
    “It’s not like she wanted to be here, but here we are. Together as a family, I was trying to make the best out of it. Obviously that plan backfired. Big time.”
    Sam’s response escapes my hearing.
    “I know Patricia can be quite nasty and condescending at times.”
    “Oh, so you’ve noticed! I wonder why. I’m not even supposed to be on your radar.”
    I step into the kitchen admitting that life has indeed been far more interesting, but worse since Sam showed up. I have now become a servant, a slave to my own lies.
    I see them all huddled around the island in discussion. Max sitting on a stool, Patricia and Sam leaning on the counter. None have started on cleaning the kitchen.
    Patricia then says to herself quietly, “Yeah, what could I possibly know about love right? Never got the chance to experience it. No real marriages in my future.” Bitterness chips at her laugh.
    Max and Sam take the opportunity to clear the dining table, moving dishes, serving platters to the counters. I move to sit at the island.
    “But why should you care about what anyone says or thinks?” Why am I talking to Patricia?
    “I don’t,” she shrugs, “Not really. Look, Sandra, I’m not in the mood for a face-off right now. Just leave me alone for once in this life.”
    Max starts clearing the dishes in the garbage disposal, leaving Sam to clear the dining room. We both rise moving to take over from the guys. Max starts loading the dishwasher while Sam goes for the Swiffer to start cleaning the floors.
    “Decisions of great consequence are made by the conscience itself. Maybe it was just weighing on Max.” I start rinsing the plates to hand them to Max.
    She turns to clean the rest of dishes in complete silence. Sadness, shame and defeat following, highlighting her movements.
    “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to step on your toes.”
    “No, it’s not you. I didn’t mean to be harsh. It’s just that that answer came out of nowhere,” She turns to look me in the eyes, hazel to brown, “I was expecting an insult, not sincere concern. You threw me off- guard that’s all.” This version of Patricia is unsettling.
    She must be really hurting. Patricia has never been vulnerable. This is newly discovered, uncharted territory.
    “I understand love, loss and heartbreak more than you know, more than anyone realizes.”
    We make quick work of clearing the table, loading the dishwasher, dishing up leftovers and cleaning the kitchen. Though working in silence, the atmosphere was far from uncomfortable. Sam leaves a note of gratitude for dinner. Max, on the other