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“Yes, I know all of that. Who are you giggling to?”
“Grant,” I said.
“Wait, you’re with Grant right now?” she asked.
“Just listen. Ike came back to the apartment.”
“What the hell did that asshole have to say?”
“It wasn’t so much what he said as what he did.”
The silence on the other end of the line made me nervous.
“Jane?”
“I’m fucking grabbing my crowbar. Where the hell is that son of a bitch?”
“Jane, settle down.”
“Did he lay a hand on you?”
“Hands and knees and all sorts of other things. Jane, he’s in jail. And he’s not getting out on bail,” I said.
“I’m going to kill that fucker.”
“Well I won’t be here to witness it,” I said.
“What the hell does that mean?” she asked.
“I’m going to Boston with Grant.”
There was another brief pause, but this time it wasn’t as tense.
“Boston.”
“Yes,” I said.
“With Grant.”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Holy. Shit. Does your dad know? Fuck me, does Hollis know?”
“No, and no, and it isn’t any of their business.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Theresa?” she asked.
“Are you ready to stop asking questions and listen?” I asked.
“I’m going to chew my cheap ass boss out for this stupid phone plan,” she said.
“When Ike put me in the hospital, Grant came. Hollis saw Grant kiss me.”
“Well, I’m sure that went over well.”
“And by well, I’m sure you mean absolutely terribly. And of course, in wonderful Hollis fashion, he called my father.”
“Who then came to try and beat the shit out of Grant.”
