the movie people. Hang on while I say good-bye.”
Renie, however, wandered out behind Judith, but
stopped in the archway between the dining room and
the entry hall. The Izards were at the door, city map in
hand.
“This place isn’t too bad,” Meg Izard allowed.
“Maybe next time we come through here, you’ll actually let us stay.”
“I hope so,” Judith said, not quite truthfully.
Walt Izard opened the door. “Lousy weather,
though.” He gestured outside. “It’s started to rain. Does
it really rain here all the time?”
“Often,” Judith answered, this time with honesty.
“Especially this time of year. Windy, too,” she added.
“Halloween weather, all right,” Meg said with a grimace. “That’s too bad. I hoped we’d have some sun to
celebrate our silver anniversary.”
“Drive safely,” Judith cautioned, moving closer to
the Izards in an effort to get them out of the house and
into their compact rental. “These streets can be slippery when—”
She stopped, staring into the cul-de-sac as a pair of
limos glided to the curb.
“Well, well,” Meg Izard muttered, “here come the
rich and famous. Let’s get out of their way, Walt. We
wouldn’t want to give them any just-plain-folks
germs.”
Judith was too flustered to protest. As the limo doors
were opened by their drivers, a third car pulled up and
stopped in front of the Steins’ house at the corner.
“Hey,” called one of the other drivers as a diverse
group of people began to emerge from the chauffeur-
driven cars, “will somebody move this crate?” The
young man gestured at what Judith assumed was the
Izards’ rental.
Both Meg and Walt froze momentarily on the
threshold. “Big-shot bastards,” Walt muttered. “To hell
with ’em.”
But Meg had already started for the car. With an annoyed shrug, Walt followed his wife. The couple drove
away as Arlene Rankers appeared from the other side
of the hedge and the first of the celebrities made their
way toward Hillside Manor.
Although at least a half-dozen people were approaching the front porch in styles ranging from a
brisk trot to a languid lope, Judith’s gaze was fixated
on just one man, who held a cell phone to his ear: He
was almost bald, with a short grizzled beard and a fireplug build. What little hair he had left had grown out
and was tied with a black ribbon into a thin, foot-long
ponytail. His cheeks were pitted with old acne scars,
and while his movements were controlled, energy exuded from him like sparks from a faulty toaster. Judith
realized that she recognized him from casually
