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“Where’s your mama?”
Peri sighed around a mouthful of egg. “Still sleeping,” she said when she’d swallowed. “She sleeps a lot.”
Well, yeah, depression and recovery from rehab can make you really tired.
“But she’s back,” I said. “And she’s getting better. So that’s good.”
“Yes,” Peri said. “That’s very good. Are you taking me to swimming today?”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t yesterday.”
“I apologize.”
“Molly said you were going to yell at somebody.”
“I did,” I said, trying to figure my way around that one. “Yelling at people is bad. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Did the person yell back?”
“No, he did what I told him to.”
Peri nodded as if that was the way it should be. “Who was it?”
“Your Uncle Cash.”
Peri froze for a minute. “Are you friends with him again?”
“No,” I said.
“Because he used to be your boyfriend.”
“That was a long time ago. I was in high school.”
“Thatwasa long time ago,” Peri said, and Anemone snickered. “Is Vince still your boyfriend?”
That was a loaded question, but Peri didn’t want a microanalysis of the role Vince played in my life, she just wanted to know if he was still around, so I said, “Yes.”
“Good,” she said and finished her eggs.
I did the same and looked up from my very clean plate to find Anemone watching me.
“What?” I said, ready to say no to whatever she was thinking about for me.
She sat back in her chair, looking regal, frowning at me. “When I met you, you were living in your car.”
“I was not,” I said. “I spent my nights in hotels while working on the autobiographies of people like you. Iworkedin my car. It was my portable office. I was like the Lincoln Lawyer, except in a Camry. And a writer. The Camry Writer.”
“But your new car is not your office,” Anemone said. “Where did you stay when you first got here?”
“With my mother,” I said, “which was a mistake. And then you bailed me out of jail and I came here, and since I was working with you, we worked here. And then I moved in with Vince, which I think was another mistake, and now I am temporarily at your Shady Rest. Which I must not get used to. That would be bad.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’ll expect that kind of place, and that kind of room is not something . . .” I trailed off because I wasn’t sure how to finish that. Something I wanted? Liar, of course I wanted that. Something I deserved? Everybody deserved a room like that. Something I could ever have again? That was just depressing.
“Liz, it’s a bed, two loveseats, a big bathtub, and a nice shower.”
