Page 7 of Bone’s Choice

I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Then blinked.

A woman stood on the other side of the glass.

She wasn’t what I’d expected, though I wasn’t sure what I’d expected.

Mid-fifties, maybe, and she had thick blond hair that fell a little past her shoulders with streaks of pink running through the ends. Not subtle pink, either. Hot pink.

She wore ripped jeans, black ankle boots, a fitted black T-shirt with I’M NOT BOSSY, I’M AGGRESSIVELY HELPFUL written across the front, and enough silver bracelets stacked around one wrist that I could see them through the glass.

Large sunglasses rested on top of her head and her lips were painted bright red. She was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a casserole dish in the other.

I liked her immediately.

She smiled at me through the glass and I opened the storm door. “Please tell me you’re not here to sell me something.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I brought wine.”

I looked at the bottle. “You can come in.”

She laughed. “I knew I was going to like you.”

“I have standards. They’re just incredibly low right now.”

“Those are the best kind.” She shifted the casserole dish in her arms and held out her hand.

“I’m Pink.”

I looked at her hand. Then her face. “Pink?”

“That’s what they call me.”

I shook her hand. “Hazel.”

“I know.”

I pulled my hand back. “That’s mildly terrifying.”

Pink laughed again. “Your aunt told me about you.”

That stopped me. “You knew Diane?”

“Of course.” She tipped her head toward the neighboring house. “I’ve lived next door for almost twenty years.”

I looked toward the house and then back at her. “You’re my neighbor.”

“Unless somebody moved my house overnight.”

“I suppose stranger things have happened.”

“Not around here.”

There was something about the way she said it that made me laugh.

Pink held up the wine. “I wasn’t sure if you drank red or white, so I brought red because that’s what I like.”

“That’s incredibly selfish.”