She floated back up. “Yes?”
Now what? “I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jack. I’m a friend of Blair’s. I’m staying in the pool house for a while.”I’m a friend of Blair’s.That had rolled easily, automatically, off his tongue. The funny thing was, it felt true.
“Is she home?” the neighbor asked.
“No.”
“Why is she gone all day?”
“She goes to her office.”
“What does she need an office for?”
He regretted having initiated this conversation. “I don’t know. I guess she works better there than at home. And her staff is all there.”
“You look strong.”
Now hereallyregretted having initiated this conversation.
“I had a delivery of something heavy this morning. Can you help me get it inside my house?”
Well, shit. He heaved himself off the chair. “I’ll walk around and meet you out front.”
“Why can’t she ever bring her garbage bins in?” Mrs. Afonso asked when she met him on her porch. “She thinks she’s so important?”
Wow, this lady was sour, and Jack was somewhat of an expert on sour. He took a risk. “Why do you dislike her so much?”
She wrinkled her nose. “If she doesn’t know, she’s dumber than I thought, and I already thought she was pretty dumb.”
Speaking of dumb, Jack was dumbfounded.
“Are you going to help me or not?” She pointed to a big bag ofsomething that was resting on the porch. Soil, maybe? No, it was fertilizer. “I’m stronger than I look, but I have trouble bending over. Thursday is Double Gin Night, and I can’t have this on the porch.”
“Double Gin Night?”
“Gin rummy and gin and tonics.” When he didn’t respond—he was still processing the mental image of Double Gin Night—she added, “My friends come over and we get drunk and play cards.”
Maybe the friends weren’t just coming over for an innocent card game. Maybe Mrs. Afonso was in a coven. It would explain the levitating.
He hefted the bag, which probably weighed fifty pounds, over his shoulder. Her driveway was all gravel, nary a blade of grass in sight. “Putting in a lawn?”
“It works for plants, too,” she said, with a defensiveness that wasn’t called for because Jack didn’t give a shit what Mrs. Afonso did with her yard.
He worried he might have trouble extracting himself after he followed her around to her backyard. But she must have only wanted him for his brawn. After he set the bag where she indicated, she waved at him—which he chose to interpret as a thank-you—and said, “You can see yourself out.”
Chapter 12
Be More Like Meryl Streep
Hi Mr. Branksome,
I don’t know if you’re actually going to get this email, but I thought I’d give it a shot. It was nice to meet you over the phone the other night. I want to surprise my mom by coming home for Thanksgiving—she thinks I have to stay at school. I was wondering if you could help me with the logistics. Like, does she have plans? Will she be home on Wednesday night before Thanksgiving Day? Normally I’d ask my dad this, but of course that isn’t going to work now that I’m in my Child of Divorce era. I mean, I guess he could find out, or her friend Tiffany could, but I thought you might be the most logical person to ask since you’re on-site. And you guys seem tight.
Anyway, I got this email address off your website, and for all I know it goes to “your people” and not you, but if you get this and you’re willing to be my informant, can you let me know?
Thanks,
Esme Johnston
