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“That’s a good thing,” Lula said. “I’m surprised crazy Becky in the attic was able to get out.”
“They took her down in one of those bucket things attached to the fire truck,” Marilee said. “She was screaming her head off. I’m thinking they drove her to the psych ward at the medical center.”
“I’m sorry I missed it,” Lula said. “She always puts up a good show. What about my car?”
“Your car is okay. The lot behind the house wasn’t affected.”
“Have you been back in your apartment?”
“No,” Marilee said. “We can’t go back in yet. I’m waiting for my daughter to come get me. I can stay with her tonight. They said the fire marshal will come in the morning, and then we can get back in.”
“This is terrible,” Lula said. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been curating clothes all my life. I had ruby slippers that were the exact replica of Dorothy’s inThe Wizard of Oz. I had two racks of ho clothes from when I was doing erectile engineering. You can’t replace stuff like that. All that stuff’s got memories. And where am I going to stay? I haven’t got a daughter with a house.”
“You can stay with me tonight,” I said. “We’ll figure this out tomorrow when we get to see what’s left of your apartment.”
We all got back into the car, and I drove around the last fire truck and stopped at the cross street. “Where should I take you?” I said to Nutsy. “Are you staying with your parents?”
“I can’t,” Nutsy said. “They already had their car blown up because of me. I can’t go home. And I’m sure Duncan’s house is being watched. And probably Sissy’s. Drop me off at the bridge. There’s a homeless encampment there.”
“Omigod,” I said. “I’m not going to drop you off at the bridge. You can stay with me too.”
While I was saying this, I calculated how much alcohol I had in my apartment. There was no way I was going to get through this sober.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bob and I slept in my bed. Lula took the couch. Nutsy slept on the floor. At one o’clock Lula came into my bedroom.
“Are you awake?” she asked me.
“I am now,” I said.
“I can’t sleep out there with him,” she said. “He snores and he talks in his sleep. If you and Bob move over, I can fit in here. I won’t take up much room. I’ll stay way over here on my side of the bed.”
Ten minutes later, Bob and I were wide awake, and Lula was snoring like a buzz saw. Bob got up and went into the bathroom to sleep. I was left with Lula.
I dragged myself out of bed at six in the morning, staggered into the bathroom, and stood in the shower until the water ran cold. If it was necessary to sleep with Lula one more night, Iwould have to kill her. I got dressed, and Bob and I made our way past Nutsy to the kitchen. His socks, shoes, and assorted clothes were spread around the room. Plus, he’d helped himself to a late-night snack. Crumbs, wrappers, empty beer bottles, and cereal boxes were mixed in with the clothes on the floor. And he was snoring. I’d have to kill him too.
I poured some dog kibble into Bob’s bowl and stared into the fridge. I was tempted to go for the margarita mix and vodka, but I pulled myself back from the edge of the cliff and went with coffee and a frozen waffle. I toasted the waffle and added a slice of American cheese, which instantly turned to molten yellow sludge.
I took Bob for a walk, and when I came back everyone was still snoring. Good thing I didn’t have any bullets for my gun. I taped a note to the fridge door, telling Lula and Nutsy that Bob and I were going to my parents’ house and that they should call me when they woke up if they needed a ride somewhere.
My mom and Grandma were at the front door when I pulled up in the Explorer. They were holding white bakery bags and boxes. I knew the Sunday routine. Early Mass and then a stop at the bakery.
Every morning my father was in the kitchen at six o’clock. He had a bowl of cornflakes with a banana, half a glass of orange juice, and a cup of coffee. At six thirty he stuck a sign that saidTAXIto the roof of his Honda, and he left to make his commuter pickups. Except Sunday. My father slept in on Sunday. On Sunday, my father got up after the bakery bags arrived and the smell of fresh brewed coffee drifted up to him.
“Just in time,” Grandma said to me when I joined them in the foyer. “They had those mocha and vanilla shortbread cookies that you like. Fresh baked. And we got almond croissants, powderedjelly doughnuts, a cream cheese coffee cake, and bear claws. The bear claws are for your father, but we got extra.”
My mom got coffee going, Grandma set out the pastries, and I kept a tight leash on Bob so that he didn’t go nuts and eat everything. My dad ambled in, put two bear claws on a plate, took a mug of coffee from my mom, and carted it all into the living room. He had Sunday shows to watch.
My mom, Grandma, and I sat at the little kitchen table.
“What’s new?” Grandma asked me.
“There was a fire in Lula’s apartment last night. It looks like it didn’t spread to the whole house, but there’s a lot of smoke and water damage throughout. Lula wasn’t home at the time, so she’s okay.”
“That’s terrible,” my mom said. “Can she still live there?”
“I don’t know. She spent the night with me. We’ll take a look at it later this morning.”
