Chapter 5: The Blue Rug

On Monday morning Griffin told three people three different lies, and waited to see which one came home.

He told his cousin Tobias first, in the kitchen, with his mouth full of toast.

"I'm dyeing her great-room rug blue tonight. The big white one. I bought a gallon."

"That's insane," Tobias said warmly. "I love it."

He told his mother second, on the phone, while he walked the length of the garden.

"I'm shaving my head, Mom. Tonight. All of it."

"You'll look like your grandfather," Delphine said. "Do it."

He told his oldest friend third, by text.

"Going to flood the guest bathroom on purpose."

The friend wrote back: "legend."

By ten in the morning, he was sitting on the terrace wall with a plastic gallon jug of nothing, pretending to read the label.

His phone rang at 10:51.

"Griffin," Garrison said, very loudly. "Do not touch your wife's rug."

Griffin looked across the terrace.

Tobias was leaning in the kitchen doorway, with his phone in his hand and an expression of mild concern.

"Dad," Griffin said slowly. "How do you know about the rug?"

"Never mind how. I know. Is it blue?"

"It's white. Nobody has touched it."

"Good. Keep it that way."

Garrison hung up.

Griffin held the phone against his chest and watched his cousin smile at him.

Tobias raised a bagel in a friendly salute and walked back inside.

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