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Larry looks up from his Scrabble tiles. “What’s this about a white van?”
“See, Larry?” says his wife. “When you don’t listen to us women, you miss important things.”
“Maybe it’s just a plumber or something,” says Jonas. “Seems like they all drive white vans.”
“It has no logo on it,” I tell them. “I haven’t gotten a good look at the license plate, but next time it comes around—”
“Call me,” says Lorelei. “So I can take a look.”
“Better yet,” says Larry, “why don’t you two ladies grab your broomsticks and chase him off? Because good god, we can’t have plumbers coming around the neighborhood.”
Lorelei gives him a sour look. “Really, Larry?”
But Larry is no longer listening because he’s back to perusing his tiles, plotting another way to humiliate the rest of us.
“What about Tricia Talley?” Lorelei asks. “You ever find out what’s going on with that girl?”
“Yeah, what happened to Tricia?” asks Jonas.
I sigh. “Nothing. I was wrong about that.”
“Stop the presses!” says Larry. “Angela Rizzoli is wrong about something!”
“I’m admitting it, aren’t I? But only because I saw Tricia at the supermarket, and then I spoke to Jackie, and she told me they had some sort of blowup. Tricia’s alive and well but she still hasn’t returned home. She’s very troubled, that girl.”
“Is there a boyfriend?” Lorelei leans closer and murmurs, “When girls act out, it’s always about a boy.”
“I don’t know. Jackie wouldn’t tell me. She’s been so closemouthed lately, which is odd, becauseshe’sthe one who asked me to get Jane involved. Now it’s like she wants me to butt out.”
“Can we just get on with Scrabble?” says Larry. “I didn’t come here to gossip about the neighbors.”
His wife ignores him. “I saw Jackie last week at the gas station and I asked her about Tricia. I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. We’ve known that family since Jackie got hired at Larry’s school, and I have to say, she never really warmed up to me. It’s like she wears this ice shield whenever I’m around her. Don’t you think so, Larry?”
“No.”
“I haven’t noticed that at all,” says Jonas.
Lorelei looks at me. “I swear, men never notice anything.”
“I notice no one’s interested in playing Scrabble,” says Larry, and he picks up his rack of tiles and unceremoniously dumps them into the box. “So I’m going home.”
The rest of us are so startled we don’t know what to say. Lorelei jumps up and follows her husband to the front door.
“Larry? Larry!” She looks back at us and shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him! I’ll call you later, Angela.”
Jonas and I hear the front door thud shut and we look at each other, stunned. Then he picks up the bottle of wine. “It’d be a shame to waste this,” he says, and fills my glass to the brim.
“What just happened?”
“Larry’s turning into a grumpy old man, that’s what.”
“No, tonight was different. He’s grumpier than usual.” The Scrabble game has been ruined now, and I’m about to toss my tiles into the box when I suddenly realize what I could have spelled with them:hazard, and it would have earned a triple-word score.Thatwould have been a slap in Larry’s snooty face, and I’m annoyed he’s not here to see me claim those points. But whenever he is here, I’m so intimidated by him that my brain shuts down. “I don’t know why Lorelei puts up with that man.”
“She doesn’t know why either.”
“What?”
“That’s what she told me.”
