Eddie didn’t reply and walked me over to a couch and turned to me.
“Wait here. I’l be five minutes.” Then he was gone.
I sat on the couch and the guy was watching me.
“There was a bit of a bar brawl,” I explained.
“Yeah, I heard.”
“It started for a good reason.” I don’t know why, but I decided to defend Eddie.
“Eddie start it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You the reason?”
I bit my lip then said, “Yes.”
“That’s a good enough reason.”
He turned back to work and I took the opportunity to fish the fifty from my cle**age. It was hard won. I should probably give it to Eddie for the trouble I caused him but I needed it too much. I put it in my wal et and then waited.
Then I waited some more.
Then I looked at the couch and decided it looked real y comfortable. So, for research purposes, I decided to check and see if it was comfortable. So, I stretched out on it and within minutes, I was dead asleep.
I woke up smel ing Eddie.
For a second I thought I was dreaming but I could feel the sunlight against my closed eyelids, so I opened them. I saw unfamiliar surroundings and shot bolt upright in bed.
I was in a queen-size bed that had plaid sheets and a denim covered comforter. There was a dresser with a mess of stuff on the top, hardwood floors with no rugs, mocha colored wal s with no pictures, one nightstand with an alarm clock, phone and some change on it. Then I saw, on the floor, my bright red mini-skirt, my purse and my slut shoes lying next to a pair of jeans, cowboy boots and a bloodstained white t-shirt.
“Shit!” I jumped out of bed and stared down at myself. I was wearing my black, cotton, bikini briefs, my Smithie’s camisole and Eddie’s flannel shirt.
I looked back at the alarm clock. It was 11:45.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I shouted and ran to my mini-skirt.
Not only was I super late for Fortnum’s, I hadn’t cal ed Mom. She would be worried sick. I’d left my cel phone in my apron (with my tips) and Smithie had taken them away.
I had to get to a phone immediately to let her know I was okay. Then I had to cal Indy. Then I had to cal a taxi. Then I had to get the hel out of there.
I pul ed on my mini-skirt trying not to think of how I got from the police station to Eddie’s house, to Eddie’s bed and out of some of my clothes. I looked back at the bed and saw that only one pil ow had a dent in it. I also saw that the other pil ow had a note on it. I ran to it, my skirt stil unzipped at the back, and snatched it off the pil ow.
Gone to work. When you get up, call me. And he left a phone number.
“Shit!”
I ran out of the room, my hands at my back to zip the skirt, I made it to the hal and crashed head-first into Eddie.
I flew backward a step, which would have been more if his hands hadn’t caught me.
“You’re awake,” he said.
I looked up at him. “I need to use your phone.” No greeting, no nothing. I was close to hysteria and Eddie must have sensed it because he made no comment, walked out of the hal and into the living room. I fol owed him, finishing the zip on my skirt. He grabbed a cordless phone and handed it to me.
I took it and bent my head over it immediately, wandering away from him and punching in the number to home.
Mom answered on the first ring.
“Mom?”
“Jet! My God, I’ve been worried sick.”
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“No, I’m not, I’m worried sick. Where are you? Are you safe?”
“Yes, I’m safe. I’m sorry. I left my phone in my apron and things got a little strange at the club and I fel asleep at the police station.”
What was I saying? She didn’t need to know that, I’d give her another stroke.
“Excuse me? Police station?” Mom asked, her voice rising.
“It was nothing, never mind. I’l be home soon.” But I heard the phone being moved around and then I heard Trixie.
“Jet! Where are you? Your mother’s been worried sick.
What’s this about a police station?”
I closed my eyes, overcome with relief that Mom wasn’t alone. I sank down on the sofa, leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees and my head in my hand. “Trixie, I’m so glad you’re there. Is Mom okay?”
“No she’s not okay, we’re both not okay. You didn’t come home last night.”
“I know. I’m so sorry. Is she al right? Was she able to get to the bathroom, take care of herself?” I asked.
“She’s fine. She got herself up, walked to your room and saw you didn’t come home so she cal ed me. I came over and took care of her.”
“Has she had breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Were you able to get her she dressed?”
“Yes! Where are you? You didn’t answer your cel . We cal ed the bookstore; they didn’t know where you were. No one was answering at the club. We were scared to death.” It then occurred to me where I was and my head snapped up and I looked at Eddie. He was standing; shoulders leaned against the wal , arms crossed on his chest, watching me.
Shit.
I looked back at my knees. “I’m at Eddie’s.” Silence.
“Trixie?”
I heard her say, not into the mouthpiece, “She’s at Eddie’s.”
The phone was moved around again and Mom said,
“You’re at Eddie’s?”
Her tone was both hopeful and snoopy. Neither of these were good things.
“It’s a long story. I’l tel you later. Listen, Mom, I’l be home as soon as I can.”
“No, no, don’t rush. We’re okay. Ada’s coming over and Trixie’s managed to rearrange her appointments. Take your time.”
I closed my eyes and prayed for divine intervention.
I waited a beat and nothing happened.
Guess God was busy with war and famine and the like.
“Mom, I’l be home as soon as I can get there. Okay?”
“Is Eddie bringing you home?”
“I don’t know.”
“Am I going to meet him?”
“I don’t know. Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, dol face,” she said, her voice total y changed from pissed off mother on the edge to sweet as pie. “See you.”
I pushed the on/off button and looked up at Eddie. “I’ve got to cal Indy.”
“I cal ed her before I came home. She’s not worried. Her people come and go as they please,” he said.