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I wasn’t going to have a nervous breakdown, not now. And if I gave in to everything I was feeling my system would probably shut down for a month.
I needed to concentrate, prioritize.
Stay awake was first. Find out what was wrong with my car was second. Find out if Dad was okay was third. Find a way to make up the money I gave Dad was last, or maybe first.
Or maybe the problem was it was all first.
FOUR
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN AND INTO EDDIE’S BED
My luck changed when Smithie called me and told me a “friend” was going to be in the parking lot of my apartment building at two o’clock to look at my car.
This meant I had a genuine reason for leaving early, thus avoiding Eddie.
I left Fortnum’s at one thirty because I had to take the bus and I met Smithie’s friend at my Honda. He tinkered around under the hood for a couple of seconds, then straightened up and wiped his hands on his greasy, blue coveralls.
“Gonna hafta tow this in,” he told me.
Oh no.
“Is it bad?” I asked.
“Can’t tell. Need to get in there.”
Wonderful.
“I can’t tow it today. I’ll have the wrecker here tomorrow some time.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
I called JoJo to arrange a ride while I watched the mechanic drive away. Then I dragged my behind up to the apartment, looking forward to sleeping for a full three hours before having to go into Smithie’s.
When I opened the door to the apartment Mom shouted, “Oh good! You’re early.”
I walked into the living room. Trixie was there and it looked like a beauty salon bomb had exploded.
“Hooray! I’ll have more time to work,” Trixie cried.
I absolutely loved Trixie. She’d had dyed red hair for as long as I could remember. She wore it teased out big. It looked good on her. She was petite, had happy, brown eyes and the most beautiful hands I’d ever seen on anyone. She had what I thought of as an artist’s hands.
“Trixie, what are you doing here?” I asked as I gave her a hug. Trixie usually came to visit Mom on a Monday.
“Surprise! You’re getting a manicure, pedicure, facial and highlights.”
I did a mental groan.
“Trixie—”
“Nope. No arguments this time. Your mom says you’re worn out. So today, it’s all about you. It’s Jet’s Day of Beauty.”
I needed a manicure and highlights like I needed a hole in the head. Both required maintenance and maintenance required time and money and I had neither of those.
Trixie was dashing around the room getting prepared and Mom was smiling her glamorous lopsided smile. They thought they were doing me a favor. They thought this was a good thing.
Damn. How did you say no to that?
Trixie put one of our dining room chairs in the living room. I sat in it and she swooped a drape around me.
