Read Real Life & Liars for Free Online Page B

porch stairs and ambushes her family, who are sitting on the wicker furniture just inside the porch door, having an after-dinner cocktail.
    She spots Mira first, who gets to her feet quicker than reasonable for a sixtyish woman. Mira lights up, and her wrinkles only make her look happier. For a moment, Irina wonders if her own face will radiate like that, at the sight of the baby she carries. But she has no time to linger on that thought because voices are all going at once.
    “Irina!” This from her mother and father, not quite in unison.
    “Glad you made it! Who’s this?” From Katya, getting the well-wishing out of the way quick and getting down to business.
    “Hi, Reenie,” from her brother, using the nickname she’s hated for the last fifteen of her twenty-one years of life. Ivan remains slouched in the chair, while the others close in on her like something from Night of the Living Family.
    Darius remains quiet, though he’s smiling and nodding to each one in turn. His hands are clasped loosely behind his back, andIrina tries to imagine how they see him, if they think he’s handsome, if they have any inkling about what she’s going to say.
    She clears her throat, and Darius puts one arm around her waist. What waist she has left, that is. This action changes the air in the room, and even Ivan sits up out of his dolorous slouch.
    “Sorry to be springing this on you all,” Irina begins, and already she sees Katya fold her arms and her back go even more rigid. “But it was sprung on me, too, in a way. I’ve been seeing Darius for a couple of months”—and in this instant Irina decides to parcel out her shocking news one bit at a time, and she has to concentrate on not touching her belly—“and we really fell in love”—and there might have been a gasp at this, but she leaves no time, rushing on to say—“and Darius swept me off to Vegas and married me three days ago.”
    The most unexpected thing happens. Mira runs from the room, and in that fraction of a second as she turns, Irina could swear she sees her eyes shining with tears. Max just gapes, slumped like a marionette limp on its strings.
    “Congratulations,” mumbles Ivan, as he hauls himself out of the chair with a great show of effort.
    Katya beams at Darius, and it makes Irina want to retch, and not for fake morning sickness, but actually she wants to vomit watching her sister pretend not to be upset in all her soccer-mom sensibilities by Darius. She shakes his hand and offers congratulations in that same syrupy voice she probably uses at PTA meetings or whatever the hell she does with her time.
    Katya then hugs Irina, and whispers in her ear, “Come to the kitchen with me.”
    Irina ignores her and goes to her father, the only member of her family not yet to react. “Dad?” Irina considers waving a hand in front of his nose. It’s like he has gone into what she calls “zombie face” where he’s writing in his head.
    “Sweetheart,” he says, coming around at last, and folding her into a hug. His hair gets in her nose and makes her want to sneeze. “Oh, honey, congratulations. I love you so much.”
    He holds on too long, and for some reason Irina can’t articulate, she feels a cold rock sink into her stomach.
    She pulls back and meets his eyes—his, too, are watering—just before Katya takes her wrist and pulls her into the adjacent kitchen.

CHAPTER 9
Ivan
    WITH KATYA AND IRINA IN THE KITCHEN, AND THEIR MOTHER dashed off crying to somewhere in the house, probably her office, the men fidget in silence.
    Darius remains where he started, hands clasped loosely, gaze somewhere in the far corner of the room. Max’s hands hang down at his sides like a couple of dead fish on a line, as he remains nailed to the spot where Irina hugged him before getting dragged off by her older sister.
    The quiet gets to be too much for Van, who blurts out something with all the best intentions.
    “Please don’t think we’re bigots.”
    Darius turns