The menu promoted the myth that Gertrude’s was indeed the home of “World-Famous Pecan Waffles.” In silent protest against false advertising, Theo ordered scrambled eggs and sausage. His father ordered waffles. His mother ordered dry wheat toast.

As soon as the waitress walked away, Mrs. Boone looked Theo squarely in the eyes and said, “Okay, let’s have it. There’s something else to the story.”

Theo was constantly amazed at how easily his mother could do this. He could tell only half of a story, and she immediately looked for the other half. He could offer up a little fib, nothing serious, maybe something just for fun, and she instinctively pounced on it and ripped it to shreds. He could duck a direct question, and she would fire back with three more. Theo suspected she had acquired this skill after years as a divorce lawyer. She often said that she never expected her clients to tell her the truth.

“I agree,” said Mr. Boone. Theo couldn’t tell if he really agreed, or whether he was just tag-teaming with his wife, which he often did. Mr. Boone was a real estate lawyer who never went to court, and, while he missed little, he was usually a step or two behind Mrs. Boone when it came time to grill Theo about something.

“April told me not to tell anyone,” Theo said.

To which his mother responded quickly, “And April is in big trouble right now, Theo. If you know something, let’s have it. And now.” Her eyes narrowed. Her eyebrows arched. Theo knew where this was headed, and, truthfully, he knew it was better to level with his parents.

“Mrs. Finnemore wasn’t at home when I talked to April last night,” Theo said, his head low, his eyes darting left and right. “And she wasn’t home the night before. She’s taking pills and she’s acting crazy. April’s been living by herself.”