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'Call Tank if you change your mind. And be careful. Don't try to play with Eugene.'
And he was gone.
Lula and Connie were shuffling papers, trying to look busy, when I returned to the office.
'Is he gone?' Lula wanted to know.
'Yeah.'
'Lord, he makes me nervous. He is so hot. I got flashes. Look at me. I'm having a flash. I'm not even in menopause, and I'm hot flashing.'
Connie rolled back in her chair. 'Did he tell you where he was going? How long he'd be away?'
`No'
Connie had a problem. When Ranger was gone she was left with me and a couple part-time BEAs. If a high-stakes bond went south, she'd be in a bind. The case would have to go to me. At least temporarily. I was okay at my job, but I wasn't Ranger. Ranger had skills that went way beyond the normal parameters of human ability.
'I hate when he does this,' Connie said.
'I been noticing the last two times he took off there was a coup in Central America,' Lula said. `I'm going home, and I'm watching CNN'
I left the office and headed home to Joe's house. Somehow I'd managed to keep busy all day, but it didn't feel like I'd accomplished much. I stopped at Giovichinni's deli on Hamilton and picked up some lunch meat, sliced provolone, a medium container of potato salad, and a loaf of bread. I added a couple tomatoes and a small tub of chocolate ice cream.
It was a bad time to stop at Giovichinni's, but it was my only option if I wanted to eat. St Francis Hospital was a block away, and half the hospital emptied out into Giovichinni's at this hour.
Mrs Wexler came up to me while I was standing in line. 'My goodness,' she said, 'I haven't seen you in an age. I understand your sister is getting married. Isn't that nice for her, but it must be a very stressful time for you. Is that a cold sore on your lip, dear?'
My hand immediately flew to my lip. I didn't have anything on my lip when I left the house this morning, but yes, there was definitely something erupting on my mouth, I dug in my purse for a mirror. I've never had a cold sore,' I told Mrs Wexler. 'I swear to
God.'
'Well, it does look like a cold sore,' Mrs Wexler said.
I squinted into my mirror. Yikes! There it was... big and red and angry looking. How did this happen? And then it hit me. Marty
Sklar and his cooties! I studied my lip. No. Wait a minute, it wasn't a cold sore. It was a booboo.
I'd gnawed a hole into my lip on the way across town, worrying about Eugene Brown and God knows what else. Okay, and the fact that I was attracted to two men didn't help. Probably I loved both of them. How sick is that?
'It's a cut,' I said to Mrs Wexler. 'I got it this afternoon.'
'Of course,' Mrs Wexler said. 'I can see that now.'
My mother called on my cell phone. 'Mrs Rogers just called,' my mother said. 'She said you're in Giovichinni's, and you have a cold sore.'
'It's not a cold sore. It's a cut.'
'Well, that's a relief. Could you pick up a couple things for me while you're there at Giovichinni's? I need a pound of olive loaf, an
Entenmanns raspberry swirl coffee cake, and a quarter pound of
Swiss. Make sure they don't slice the Swiss too thin. It all sticks together if it's too thin.'
I scurried off to the deli counter, got my mother's stuff, and got back into line.
Leslie Giovichinni was working the register. 'Gosh,' she said, when I stepped in front of her. 'You poor thing. You've got a big herpes!'
'It's not a herpes,' I said. 'Its a cut.
