A Neat Mess

27.How to Catch a Liar

Blake stood outside his office as Pip escorted Sam and Jenna out. He asked, "How's therapy going so far?"

"Not great, to be honest," Pip replied, her disappointment clear.

"What's the issue? Is the father not showing up as often as you'd expect?"

"That could be part of it. And I'm surprised you noticed his, well, masculine appeal—I thought that was something only women picked up on."

Blake covered his face with both hands and sighed. "I think I need to take this case off your hands. You're too involved with the father. What I meant was—"

Pip cut him off with a grin. "I was just teasing. I know what you meant. The techniques we used worked for a while, and there was noticeable improvement. But now, things have plateaued, and I'm worried we might backslide or even worsen."

"Do you think we might need to consider medication?"

"It seems like something has shifted in the family dynamic. Ben is only attending every second or third session now, and Sam seems more distracted than ever. She used to be so motivated, but now... I don't know. She's back to working full-time, and the babysitter—whom Jenna tried to harm—is back too. Sam is starting to feel like the one I need to keep a closer eye on."

Blake said, "I find Sam very private and introverted too; Ben is easier to crack."

"Ben wouldn't reveal anything he's not supposed to," Pip replied.

"Then find out what he's hiding when he doesn't think he's under a magnifying glass."

"That's devious, so clever. I love it. I'll find a way to trick him into confessing his wife's darkest secret."

Blake added, "On a related note, wouldn't it be good if parenting required a permit, like any other important affair? Not everyone should be allowed to have children just because they can."

"That's awful, but elaborate please", Blake.

"Is it really? The number of people I see every day, scarred for life by their parents, is staggering. I think only those who are emotionally stable, mentally sound, and physically healthy should be allowed to have children—and they should have several to maintain balance. Why the look? We test our teachers and nurses; you need a license to breed dogs. Yet, no one can harm a child as deeply as their parents can."

Pip considered Blake's radical idea. It might be a less discriminatory method to control population growth, focusing on maintaining balance rather than on race, appearance, or abilities. As she contemplated this, she knew she needed to dig deeper into the family's hidden secrets. Little did she know, the answer would soon come to light with surprising ease.

On Monday morning, after her run, Sam entered her usual café. The barista greeted her with, "A light cheese toastie!" and marked "LB-Sam" on a medium cup. By the time Sam reached the cashier, her total was already up. "Your sandwich will be ready in two minutes," the cashier said as Sam paid and stepped back..

It was just before the coffee rush, so the cashier had a moment to spare. She glanced at Sam with a smile. "Do you know what every one of your customers would order?" Sam asked, not out of small talk, but genuine curiosity.

The cashier chuckled. "Not really. We get tons of non-regulars. Even among the regulars, most change their orders based on their mood, I guess. There aren't many like you who have a specific order at the same time every day all year round."

"True, I am a person of habit—very predictable."

"That's really convenient; it helps us plan our work around your schedule," the cashier said. "When you come in, I know exactly what to prepare and can move on to the next customer quickly. I bet your manager appreciates having someone as organised as you."

Sam's toasted cheese sandwich was ready. The cashier handed it over and moved on to the next customer. Sam headed to her usual bench but didn't sit down. She realized how predictable her every move was, making it easy for anyone, including Ben, to track her schedule and exploit it.

The best times for him were when she was at work, during her morning runs, or occupied with Jenna's school events—moments when she was least likely to check on him. Appointments with the psychologist, which he often missed, also came to mind.

Sam drove home, calling her office to say she'd be late. She parked at a distance from her house, where she could watch for any movement. Soon, Andrew, one of the carpool dads, arrived to pick up the kids. Jenna was supposed to be waiting outside, but she wasn't.

Ben was still at home. Curious about the delay, Sam saw his car eventually pull out of the garage and head to work. She decided to follow him but soon questioned if she should have stayed to see if anyone else, like the attractive neighbor, left the house.

Ben took every turn that would lead him to work, and Sam realized she might be wasting her time. After all, most people worked during the day and had fun at night or on weekends. She needed to be more strategic about this.

A better plan began to form in her mind: she would give him the perfect opportunity, with advance notice so he could prepare. The woman, whoever she was, would need to be available too.

Sam decided to pretend she was meeting Jessica tomorrow, fabricating a dramatic issue to justify frequent visits, giving Ben ample time to fall into the trap she was setting. It felt too soon, but she couldn't wait much longer.

Sam's mind buzzed with plans as she thought about Jenna's therapy sessions. She'd make subtle changes to her routines, nudging Ben to join in, no longer giving him an easy out. Every session would be a carefully orchestrated step, timed perfectly to ensure he was there, forcing him to engage. With everything else, she'd stay agile, ready to shift her plans as needed, watching and waiting until the truth—whatever it was—finally surfaced.

Paranoia and obsession are a razor's edge, cutting deep into a once-normal life. What begins as a flicker of doubt ignites into an all-consuming fire, burning through trust, love, and sanity. The relentless need for control twists reality into a nightmare, where every moment is suffocating, and life becomes a self-made prison of suspicion and fear.