“Done already?” Nora asks, unimpressed.
“Yep, all finished. Yara already left for the clinic.”
The older woman sniffs. “She won’t get her treat, then. Here, this is yours,” she says, pulling a white paper bag out of her battered leather purse. A number of envelopes flutter to the ground.
“These look important.” Eve gathers up the mail before taking the proffered bag. “This one is from the council,” she asserts, sorting through them. “This one, I’m not sure. Want me to open it to see what it’s about?”
“Nah, chuck ’em on the pile. I’ll read them later. Take this.” From the pocket of her green pants, she pulls out Eve’s cell phone. “You left it on the hedge again.”
“Oh! So that’s where it was.”
“You’d forget your head if it wasn’t screwed on tight,” Nora adds.
“Probably, but it would turn up soon enough. Don’t leave these too long,” she adds, brandishing the envelopes. “You might have a long-lost relative that’s kicked the bucket and left you millions.”
“Doubt it,” the old woman grumbles. Her eyes then narrow, as though just remembering something. “Although we did have a windfall late last month.”
“Oh?” Eve’s surprise isn’t feigned.
“Some company in the city paid off the outstanding vet bills.” She sniffs. “Apparently, we get a year’s free meds and stuff on top of that.”
“Well, that’s great!” Eve is the picture of enthusiasm, her expression one of puzzlement as she turns to me. I paint on an air of boredom. It was just a partial payment. Nothing to lose her mind over.
“I reckon someone somewhere is paying the piper,” Nora says dourly.
“Don’t be such a party pooper—the universe just filled your well!” Eve says happily as she eyes me suspiciously.No change there, then.
“My well’s got a hole in it,” Nora grumbles. “Things never last. You get nothing for nothing in this life, girl.”
The words of a sage. Eve knows it, too, but she throws up her hands anyway. “Who cares where it came from?”
“Or who?” Nora sends a suspicious glare my way. “Here, I suppose you can have this. It was for Yara,” she mutters, almost begrudgingly placing one of the bags into my hands, whether I want it or not. I murmur my thanks.
“Hell’s bells and buggeration, my knees are killing me,” she complains, leaning her weight against the pen’s fence. “Reckon the clinic would let me book in for new knees with that money?”
“Even if they said yes, you wouldn’t use it,” Eve scoffs. She leans in as I part the paper bag with my forefinger, her voice lowering to an amused purr. “Remember every woman’s favorite c-word?”
“What was that?” the old woman demands.
“I was just telling Oliver these are your favorites,” Eve replies.
“Hark at her!” Nora pulls a face. “I’m not deaf, you know. Or dead. In fact, I used to like a bit of c-word myself, back in the day.”
“Cake, Nora! I was talking about cake!”
“At your age, joy shouldn’t be limited to a bit of sugar, unless we’re using it as a euphemism for a bit of the other.” She gives a ribald laugh. “Enjoy plenty while it’s available. Use it before you lose it, I say!”
Eve tips back her head, muttering something to the clouds. Seeking divine intervention, perhaps.
“And you?” The older woman scowls in my direction. “You eat that Hairy Mary.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Go on, get your laughing gear around it.”
“I ...” Have no idea what the answer is. That I’d love to, morning, noon, and night, if it were up to me? Should I point out we’re no longer living in the 1970s, that Eve’s preference is for deforestation? The truth is, I’d spend days between her thighs regardless of the pruning situation. But that’s none of Nora’s business.
“Oh, my gawd, look at his face!” The old woman cackles.
