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“SondraBeth?” Judy’s voice came over the intercom. “I need you to get ready.”
“Thanks, Judy,” SondraBeth called out gaily as she pressed the button.
She picked up her phone and smiled. “I’m going to call Freddie. I think I know how you can still be Pandy and get back at Jonny.” And as she pressed his number, she gave her the old PandaBeth grin. “All you have to do is stay Hellenor for a few hours.”
* * *
Five minutes later, they were still arguing.
“No.” Pandy got up and stubbed out her cigarette. “It would never work,” she added sharply. “Besides the fact that it’s ka-ray-zee, I could never get away with being Hellenor.”
“But you already have,” SondraBeth pointed out. “Even I thought you were Hellenor, until you mentioned that snaky thing coming out of my head.” She paused and looked at Pandy sympathetically. “Sista, you’re bald. Do you know how different that makes people look? It totally changes the proportions of the face. Even the photographers didn’t recognize you.”
“Which was annoying,” Pandy admitted. She crossed her arms. “On the other hand, even if I were Hellenor—”
“Freddie said the union guys have a big surprise planned for Jonny at the leg.”
Pandy moaned and flopped into an armchair. The leg. In addition to the Woman Warrior of the Year Awards, which Pandy had forgotten about, given her rotten last few months, the unveiling of Monica’s shoe was also today. It was a new thing the studio was trying. According to SondraBeth, this was the reason Monica’s leg had been late:
It was getting its own day.
“SondraBeth.” Judy’s voice came through the intercom. “We need you to get ready.”
“We don’t have much time,” SondraBeth hissed. “All you have to do is go to the Woman Warrior of the Year Awards as Hellenor, accept the award, announce that you’re killing Monica, and then, while the mob grabs Jonny, we’ll go to the leg event, where you go back to being Pandy.”
Pandy groaned.
“You, PJ Wallis, have picked a very good day to die,” SondraBeth said, sounding as if Pandy were the one who had hatched up this plan in the first place.
“Can I at least call Henry?” Pandy asked.
“Sure.” SondraBeth
tossed her the phone. And in her very best Wicked Witch of the West voice, she added, “Remember, you only have five minutes to decide.”
And then she was gone.
* * *
Fucking Squeege, Pandy thought, stomping back to the bedroom. This was perhaps the real reason they hadn’t seen each other for so many years: When they did, crazy things happened. Bad things. Embarrassing things. Things that almost made you glad you didn’t have a mother to tell.
She plopped down on the bed and looked at the packages. At least they hadn’t done any cocaine. So all in all, nothing was that bad, yet.
And then she quickly pawed through the packages, just to make sure SondraBeth hadn’t hidden a little “surprise” in the bag. After all, she had just seen Freddie the Rat, and it was the kind of thing…
But she was happy to see that the bags only contained more of those luxuriously soft workout clothes.
“Hellenor?” Judy sounded more urgent this time. “We need you upstairs in three.”
Right, Pandy thought. She stripped off Hellenor’s clothes and pulled on a set of navy-blue workout gear with MONICA outlined in silver on the back.
And then she heard Jonny’s voice. It was coming from the TV. There he was, again, in front of her building. But this time he was talking to a reporter.
“Who is Hellenor Wallis?” he asked. “That’s what I want to know.” Turning to face the camera, his still-handsome face arranged into his trademark sneer, he added, “I know you’re out there, Hellenor. And I’m looking for you.”
Jonny was looking for Hellenor? Well, he was about to find out that some people were looking for him, too.
Pandy clicked off the TV. She was going to pocket the phone when she remembered Henry.
