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Half an hour later, one look at Judy, in her gray hoodie and blue gym shorts, told Mary her BFF was sick. Her fair skin was pale, her blue eyes washed out, and a short yellow ponytail sprouted from her head like the Lorax.
“Feeling crummy, honey?” Mary asked.
“Yes.”
“Poor thing.” Mary closed the apartment door, then trailed Judy into her tiny galley kitchen, where she dropped her purse and briefcase on the café table and set the shopping bag on a butcherblock counter. “Did you sleep?”
“No, my head hurt too much.”
“Did you have some soup?”
“I hate soup. I like tequila.”
Mary stowed the ice cream in the freezer and unpacked five fresh limes, which rolled around on the counter. “You really think alcohol’s a good idea?”
“Yes. Tequila’s like Vitamin C, without the Vitamin or the C.”
“I can only have one drink. I gotta get up early and finish that brief for Be
“It’s not the smell, it’s the spell.”
Mary looked over. “Did you just make that up?”
“Yes.”
“Then we should get you to a doctor.”
“Please call Fiorella.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “You, a woman of genius, can’t actually believe that you have the evil eye. It’s folk medicine. It’s what peasants made up to explain their lives, like sacrificing goats.”
“What’s the harm in calling her? Humor me.”
“Fine.” Mary went to the table, retrieved her phone, and sat down with it, pressing H. The phone rang, and she hit a button. “I’m putting it on speaker. I wa
“Good.” Judy folded her arms.
“ ’Allo?” Mary’s mother said, picking up.
“Hi, Ma, how are you?”
“I’m a fine, Maria, how you?”
Mary cut the small talk. “Good, but I’m here with Judy, who thinks she has the evil eye, still.”
“Oh Deo!”
“Can you ask Fiorella to come to the phone?”
“Fiorella? She’s a no here. She go viz’ her ladyfrien’, on Snyd’ Avenue. They come back, soon.”
“They? Who’s they?”
“Your father, he take her.”
“And he’s not back yet?”
Mary and Judy exchanged looks.
“He drive her.”
Mary’s mouth fell open. Her father never drove anybody anywhere. Nobody in South Philly ever gave up a parking space unless they were going to their own funeral. “Why didn’t she take a cab? You can’t park on Snyder anyway.”
“What, Maria, why?”
“Ma, Fiorella came to visit you, but she’s visiting everyone else, with Pop. Did you eat di
“Is good, alla good.”
Judy edged closer to the phone. “Hey, Mrs. D, it’s Judy. How are you?”
“Good, Judy, you got ’em bad?”
“Mrs. D, can you cure me?” Judy looked hopeful. “No, no, only Do
“Ma, no, stop that, you’re as good as Fiorella.” Mary’s heart went out to her little mother, eating di
“Maria, she’s a better, strong, she’s a very strong.”
Judy asked, “Can we call Fiorella at her girlfriend’s?”
“No, non lo so.”
Mary was trying to remember the last time her mother had spent a Saturday night without her father. “I don’t like you being alone so much. This is wrong.”
“Shhh, basta, tomorr’, you come to church?”
“I can’t, I have to work. Sorry.”
“Okay, Maria. Good night, love you, Maria, Jud’, love you, God bless.”
“Love you, Ma. Bye.” Mary hung up, heartsick. “This is ridiculous. My father never leaves the house.”
“Correction, he never leaves the kitchen.” Judy started cutting limes with a sharp knife, releasing a pungent scent. “I’ll help you with your brief, after we have the perfect margarita.”
“You got a shot glass instead?” Mary asked, rising.
Chapter Twenty-six
Be
She kept digging, her arms weakening, hurting from the effort of keeping them up. She’d been scratching and pounding on the same spot on the crack, concentrating all her force on three square inches. She could hear the animal working on the same spot, they had the same idea at the same time, only one idea completely occupying their animal brains, which was to get through, to finally reach the other side.
One animal wanting life and the other wanting death.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Alice buried herself in Grady’s embrace, on the sidewalk. She loved the feel of a man’s arms around her and she brushed her cheek against his strong chin, which had just the right amount of blondish stubble. He smelled like hard soap and hard work, and she was feeling his good-provider vibe. She got so turned on that she had to stop herself from grinding her hips into him. Be
“Well,” Grady said, smiling down at her. “Quite a greeting.”
Buckle up, professor. “I’m happy to see you.”
“I tried to call you, but that number was disco
“Yes, sorry.”
“I know it’s impromptu, my arriving una
Alice smiled. “What a coincidence. I was just about to say that, and I’m not even seeing anyone, either.”
“Nor am I. Great minds, huh?”
“Right. Come on in.” Alice could see she’d have to get her witty banter up to speed because the felons she dated didn’t require conversation. She dug in Be
“You, cook?”
Oops. “No, you.”
“Touché.” Grady stood behind her on the stoop, and Alice hoped he was looking at her ass, if he could find it in the elephant shorts. The front door swung open, and she went inside, but Grady hesitated, frowning. “Oh no. Don’t tell me that Bear died.”
“Bear?” Alice blurted out, then caught herself as they went inside. Bear evidently wasn’t dead yet, because whimpering sounds came from the basement. “No, that’s him, but he sounds fu
“Something must be the matter.”
“Bear, Bear?” Alice called out, fake-looking around the living room, but Grady hurried toward the kitchen.
“I think it’s coming from the basement.”
“Really?” Alice hustled after him for show. “Bear, where are you, pal?”
“Be
“In the basement?”
“I think he’s injured.” Grady climbed the stairs, holding the limp dog, whose eyes stayed closed, his head hanging down. “Poor guy, he was just lying there, crying at the bottom of the stairs.”