Connie rolled back in her chair. 'Did he tell you where he was going? How long he'd be away?'
'No'
Connie had a problem. When Ranger was gone she was left with me and a couple part-time BEAs. If a high- stakes bond went south, she'd be in a bind. The case would have to go to me. At least temporarily. I was okay at my job, but I wasn't Ranger. Ranger had skills that went way beyond the normal parameters of human ability.
'I hate when he does this,' Connie said.
'I been noticing the last two times he took off there was a coup in Central America,' Lula said. 'I'm going home, and I'm watching CNN.'
I left the office and headed home to Joe's house. Somehow I'd managed to keep busy all day, but it didn't feel like I'd accomplished much. I stopped at Giovichinni's deli on Hamilton and picked up some lunch meat, sliced provolone, a medium container of potato salad, and a loaf of bread. I added a couple tomatoes and a small tub of chocolate ice cream.
It was a bad time to stop at Giovichinni's, but it was my only option if I wanted to eat. St Francis Hospital was a block away, and half the hospital emptied out into Giovichinni's at this hour.
Mrs Wexler came up to me while I was standing in line. 'My goodness,' she said, 'I haven't seen you in an age. I understand your sister is getting married. Isn't that nice for her, but it must be a very stressful time for you. Is that a cold sore on your lip, dear?'
My hand immediately flew to my lip. I didn't have anything on my lip when I left the house this morning, but yes, there was definitely something erupting on my mouth, I dug in my purse for a mirror. I've never had a cold sore,' I told Mrs Wexler. 'I swear to God.'
'Well, it does look like a cold sore,' Mrs Wexler said.
I squinted into my mirror. Yikes! There it was… big and red and angry looking. How did this happen? And then it hit me. Marty Sklar and his cooties! I studied my lip. No. Wait a minute, it wasn't a cold sore. It was a booboo.
I'd gnawed a hole into my lip on the way across town, worrying about Eugene Brown and God knows what else. Okay, and the fact that I was attracted to two men didn't help. Probably I loved both of them. How sick is that?
'It's a cut,' I said to Mrs Wexler. 'I got it this afternoon.'
'Of course,' Mrs Wexler said. 'I can see that now.'
My mother called on my cell phone. 'Mrs Rogers just called,' my mother said. 'She said you're in Giovichinni's, and you have a cold sore.'
'It's not a cold sore. It's a cut.'
'Well, that's a relief. Could you pick up a couple things for me while you're there at Giovichinni's? I need a pound of olive loaf, an Entenmanns raspberry swirl coffee cake, and a quarter pound of Swiss. Make sure they don't slice the Swiss too thin. It all sticks together if it's too thin.'
I scurried off to the deli counter, got my mother's stuff, and got back into line.
Leslie Giovichinni was working the register. 'Gosh,' she said, when I stepped in front of her. 'You poor thing. You've got a big herpes!'
'It's not a herpes,' I said. 'Its a cut. I got it this afternoon.'
'You should put ice on it,' she said. 'It looks real painful.'
I paid Leslie and slunk out of the store. I hunched behind the wheel of the Buick and turned into the Burg. I had to park in the driveway when I got to my parents' house because there was a big yellow school bus at the curb.
Grandma was at the door, waiting for me. 'Guess who's here?' she said.
'Sally?'
'He came over because he was so excited that the charges were dropped. And he's been real helpful on account of Valerie's still here, and we've been discussing the bridesmaids' dresses. Valerie wants pink, but Sally thinks they should be a fall color since it's fall.'
Valerie was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with the baby hanging from her neck in a land of sling apparatus. My mother was at the stove, stirring a pot of marinara.
Sally was sitting across from Valerie. His long black curly hair was Medusa meets Howard Stern. He was wearing a Motley Crue T-shirt, jeans with the knees torn out, and red lizard cowboy boots.
'Hey, man, thanks for getting the charges dropped,' Sally said. 'I got a call from the court. And then Sklar called me just to make sure I wasn't gonna go ahead with the lawyer. I didn't know what to say at first, but I just went with it. It was real good.'
I put the cheese and lunch meat in the fridge, and I set the coffee cake on the table. 'Glad it worked out.'
'So what do you think of the dresses?' Valerie wanted to know.
'Are you sure you want to have a big wedding?' I asked Valerie.
'It seems like a lot of work and expense. And who will you have for bridesmaids?'
'You'll be my maid of honor. And then there's Loretta Stone-houser. And Rita Metzger. And Margaret Durski as bridesmaids. And the girls can be junior bridesmaids.'
'I'm thinking pumpkin would be a good color for the bridesmaids' gowns,' Sally said.
I cut myself a large wedge of coffee cake. It was going to take a lot of cake to improve my mood on the pumpkin gown.
'You know what we need?' Grandma said. 'We need a wedding planner. Like that movie. Remember where Jennifer Lopez is the wedding planner?'
'I could use help,' Valerie said. It's hard to find the time for everything, but I don't think I can afford a wedding planner.'
'Maybe I could help plan the wedding,' Sally said. 'I have extra time between my bus runs.'
'You'd be a perfect wedding planner,' Grandma said. 'You have a real eye for color, and you got ideas about all that seasonal stuff.
I would never have thought to have pumpkin gowns.'
'It's settled then. You're the wedding planner,' Valerie said.
My mother's attention wandered to the pantry. She might have been taking a mental inventory, but more likely, she was contemplating the whiskey bottle hidden behind the olive oil.
'How's the house search going?' I asked Valerie. 'Any luck?'
'I haven't had a lot of time to put to it,' she said. 'But I promise to start looking.'
'I sort of miss my apartment.'
'I know,' Val said. I'm really sorry this is taking so long. Maybe we should move back here with Mom and Dad.'
My mother's back went rigid at the stove. First the wedding planner and now this.
I cut another piece of cake and headed out. 'I have to go. Joe's waiting.'
Joe and Bob were on the couch, watching television. I dropped my purse on the small hall table and took the grocery bag into the kitchen. I made sandwiches and spooned out the potato salad.
'I'm thinking about getting a cookbook,' I told Morelli when I handed him his plate.
'Wow,' he said. 'What's that all about?'
'I'm getting tired of sandwiches and pizza.'
'A cookbook sounds like a big commitment.'
'It's not a commitment,' I said. 'It's a stupid cookbook. I could learn how to cook a chicken or a cow, or something.'
'Would we have to get married?'
'No.' Jeez.
Bob finished his sandwich and looked first to me and then to
Morelli. He knew from past experience that it wasn't likely we'd share, so he put his head down on his paw and went back to watching Seinfeld.
'So-o-o,' I said. 'Did you hear about Eugene Brown?'
'What about him?'
'I bounced him off my car today.'
Morelli took a forkful of potato salad. 'Am I going to hate the rest of this story?'
