Chapter Seven

When Hilton got home it was early evening. Shannon was still groggy from the shots. Hilton was satiated. She felt kind of tipsy, very full and in general not doing bad for someone who’d just lost her girlfriend.

“So you’re doing better?” Anne had asked as she dropped her off.

“Much better, thank you.”

“I’ll zip by in the morning and pick you up. Your car will be safe in the parking garage.”

“And I shouldn’t be driving anyway,” Hilton said. She looked at Anne a little longer than she should. “You’re a nice lady.”

“And you in your new duds are one hot mama.”

“Anne!”

“Sorry, I must have morphed into Dave for a moment there. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight-thirty.”

Shannon was scratching at the door by the time Hilton got up 84

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the steps. “All right, all ready, I’m coming.” She opened the door and flounced down on the couch with Jessie and Liz, who were once again watching reruns of Leave it to Beaver on cable television.

It appeared they had been studying. Liz’s books were piled neatly on the coffee table with yellow Post-it notes sticking out everywhere. Jessie’s books were scattered on the floor with no apparent organization. Hilton banged her head on the back of the couch for emphasis. “Why do you guys watch this show?”

Liz smiled benevolently. “Because it’s like going to another planet where everything works out.” She took Hilton’s hand. “Are you all right?”

“You mean because I got dumped?”

“I don’t know if you necessarily got dumped,” Liz said.

“Dude, you’ve totally got to do something about Emily,” Jessie piped in.

Hilton saw Liz shoot her a dirty look.

“Why?”

“Because she’s been looking for you. I mean, what’s the deal?

Are you doing her or not? Nat sure thinks you are.” Jessie thrust her hand in an oversized bag of Cheetos. Her fingers were stained orange. She popped a handful in her mouth.

“I don’t think those things are really food,” Liz commented.

“Of course they’re food,” Jessie said defensively.

“No, I think they’re a bunch of chemicals they glued together and labeled snack food,” Liz said.

Shannon nuzzled Jessie for one.

“Don’t give her one,” Hilton said, giving her a stern look.

“Why not?”

“They’re bad for you.”

“God damn food nazis,” Jessie grumbled. She slipped one to Shannon when she thought Hilton wasn’t looking.

“I saw that.”

“One won’t hurt her. She’s a big dog and the chemicals will be diluted. Now, about Emily.”

“I don’t know. Can’t I just leave it a two-night stand? Is it nec-85

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essary that every lesbian sexual liaison must turn into a three-year relationship that will be dysfunctional from its very inception? I don’t think I’m in the mood to be in love.” Hilton absentmindedly grabbed a Cheeto and stuck it in her mouth.

“Ah-ha! You ate one,” Jessie said, pointing an accusing finger at her.

“They’re not bad actually.”

“You know why you don’t want to fall for Emily?” Jessie said.

“No, I don’t.” She had replayed the evenings of their amorous liaison and had nice thoughts about it. Emily was sweet and sexy but that was about it. She wasn’t horribly interesting or driven or funny. For the first time in her life, Hilton was looking for something with a future and it wasn’t Emily.

“Hilton, should you be taking advice from the most relationship-challenged lesbian on the planet?” Liz piped in.

“Probably not. I should just settle down with you.” Hilton took Liz’s hand. “But I hear you’ve been dating someone.”

“Maybe,” Liz said coyly.

Jessie cleared her throat. “As I was saying, you’re not interested in Emily because you’ve got a thing for your boss.”

“Really?” Liz asked Hilton.

“Consider the source,” Hilton said. She didn’t meet Liz’s gaze.

“Where have you been spending all your time?”

“Doing work-related activities,” Hilton said. She grabbed another Cheeto and tried to appear nonchalant. “I think these things are addictive.” Shannon looked at her pleadingly. She gave her another. They would both die of toxic chemicals.

Jessie continued, “And after work, part of a weekend and those shopping trips …”

“You’re high. She’s my boss, for starters.”

“Like that ever stopped anyone.”

“And she’s straight.”

“And her husband left her for another man. That should tell you something,” Jessie countered.

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“Like what?”

“Did he really leave her for a man?” Liz said, apparently shocked by this tidbit.

“Well, yeah,” Hilton admitted.

“You know what that tells me?” Jessie said.

“Oh, do share.” Hilton grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch and covered up with it. She was suddenly cold and kind of sleepy. The wine from lunch must have been wearing off or she was having a reaction to the Cheetos.

“It means that the house wasn’t the same as all the other houses on the block. A woman doesn’t marry a guy that turns gay. He was gay when she married him and they both knew it. Underneath all that playing it straight is a fag and dyke pretending to play house.

It was only a matter of time before one of them broke the deal, found someone to love and went to live happily ever after somewhere in Homoslavia.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Oh, my God, I’ve to go,” Liz said, popping up. “I’ve got a date with Melissa at seven-thirty.”

“Do I get to bear-sit?”

“No, Jessie, tonight we’re having dinner at her place with Amelia Bearhart.”

“Damn!”

“Another time.” Liz patted Jessie’s shoulder. “You are a good baby-sitter.” Liz rolled her eyes at Hilton, who smirked.

“Like when?” Jessie whined.

“I’ll see if you can take her to the park tomorrow. We have a lunch date.”

“I’ll pencil you in,” Jessie said. She took a swig of orange soda and picked up the remote.

“Better hit the wine cellar for something nice,” Hilton suggested.

“Can I?” Liz asked.

“Of course. Nothing like a good bottle of wine to enhance a 87

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dinner date.” Hilton pulled the afghan off. Now she was hot.

Maybe she was really having a reaction to all those toxic chemicals in the junk food.

“What should I get?” Liz said. She looked tentatively at Hilton.

“Come on, I’ll help you pick one out.”

Hilton and Liz tromped downstairs to the wine cellar. It was originally a root cellar, but Gran had the whole thing redone with state-of-the-art equipment. Gran may have been frugal about some things but a good wine cellar was a priority. Gran had carefully cataloged brands and types. Hilton kept it religiously stocked.

She disappeared into the dark corners of the cellar and came back with a dusty bottle of French wine. Liz blew off the label.

“This looks expensive.”

“And tonight is a special occasion,” Hilton said. She didn’t have the heart to tell Liz that everything in the wine cellar was horribly expensive. What did it matter when you were a pickle heiress?

“Thank you, Hilton.” Liz gave her a quick hug.

“So you really like this girl?” Hilton queried.

“I do. Melissa is different. I mean aside from the bear thing, she’s sensitive, intuitive and very smart. Plus she’s really cute.”

“The bear’s okay. We’ve all got our little idiosyncrasies. Besides, you’ve got a built-in baby-sitter.” Hilton looked at Liz. She was gorgeous. Tonight she was wearing a soft, light green sweater with a cream-colored blouse and brown slacks. She looked elegantly casual. Her long brown hair was hanging perfectly over her shoulders.

“I don’t get what’s up with Jessie and the bear, but it’s working.”

“It’s nice to see her focused on something other than her crotch.”

“You can that say again. I can do this, right?” Liz asked with trepidation in her voice.

“Of course you can.”

“Okay, well, here goes,” Liz said. She straightened her shoulders and they both climbed the stairs back to the world of light and bears.

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The next day, while Anne was doing her monologue about the bull penis, Jessie came racing into the control room at warp speed with Veronica nipping at her heels, telling her she wasn’t allowed in here.

Jessie was carrying Amelia Bearhart’s little leather aviator’s jacket. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this emergency.

There’s been a kidnapping, or rather a bearnapping, and I need Hilton’s help,” she said, wildly waving the jacket around for emphasis.

Hilton, Dave and Lillian turned around to see Jessie flapping the tiny jacket around and arguing with Veronica. Jessie was dressed in her usual gym attire, a black Nike warm-up suit. Her short hair was wet around the temples like she’d been running.

When she saw Hilton, Jessie said, “You’ve got to totally help me. Someone took the bear. I need Shannon. She can, like, follow the scent. Thank God, I’ve still got the jacket.” She held it to her breast.

“Hilton, she can’t be in here,” Veronica said, putting her hands on her hips. “Come outside and we’ll discuss the situation. Dave, keep on eye on the Web site.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once they’d exited, Hilton shut the control room door. She figured Veronica would be on her way now that Jessie had been removed from sacred ground. Instead, she stood waiting for Jessie’s explanation. Hilton got the ball rolling. “Now tell me what happened.”

“I was bear-sitting and I took her to the park. She was sitting on the bench by the playground, you know, by those slides and swingsets. This loose dog came by and this really hot chick was chasing him. I went to help and when I got back the bear was gone.

What the hell am I going to do?” Jessie began waving the jacket around again. “Liz is going to kill me. I knew I shouldn’t have taken on so much responsibility. I’m incapable.”

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Jessie looked so distraught that even hard-hearted Veronica seemed suddenly compassionate.

“Melissa will break up with Liz because she doesn’t have the bear, and I will be solely responsible for destroying their one chance at happiness.”

Dave slipped out of the control room. “Dude, boss lady wants to know what’s going on.”

“Tell her my roommate Jessie lost her teddy bear and she wants Shannon to do a little detective work,” Hilton explained. Dave gave her an odd look and went back inside to relay the information.

Jessie was staring at Hilton intently.

Hilton let out a heavy sigh. “Jessie, Shannon isn’t a blood-hound. She doesn’t know how to track things.”

“Well, can’t she give it a try? All dogs have good sniffers.” Jessie held it out for Shannon, who gave it a perfunctory sniff and then went back to her fleece and brocade bed, a gift from Anne, and went back to sleep. It appeared the crisis was cutting into her nap time. “Hilton, you’ve got to help me,” Jessie pleaded.

“I’m going to. Now, what park were you at?”

“The one on Lincoln and Central.”

“What time?” Hilton asked. She noticed that Veronica had produced a small black notebook from the pocket of her blazer and was jotting this down.

“Twelve-thirty.”

“What was Amelia wearing?” Hilton asked.

“Nothing! I took off her jacket because she looked kind of warm. I figured with her fur and shit. Oh, fuck, she’s gone missing and she’s naked.”

“Jessie, calm down. We’ll find her.”

Jessie was clutching the jacket to her chest. “I’m in so much trouble.”

“I could make flyers and we could put them around the park,”

Veronica said.

Hilton and Jessie turned to look at her in disbelief.

“I’ll make a copy of her picture and we’ll leave contact num-90

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bers. She’s bound to show up. It’ll work,” Veronica said confidently. She gently touched Jessie’s shoulder. Jessie looked at her as if she was a guardian angel.

Dave had come out of the control room. He leaned over and whispered to Hilton, “Dude, I think you’ve been replaced.”

“I see that. It must have been really meaningful.”

“Chicks are like that. Rip your heart out and serve it like a shish kabob. It’s so wrong. By the way, Anne wants to know why a grownup has a teddy bear.”

Hilton smirked. “Tell her it’s a long story.”

“But I don’t have a picture of the bear,” Jessie said mournfully.

“Let me see the jacket,” Veronica commanded.

Jessie gingerly handed it over.

Veronica looked at the label of the jacket. “Just as I suspected.”

“What?” Jessie asked.

“It’s a Vermont Teddy Bear. Hilton, pull up their Web site and download a picture.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hilton could see Anne pacing and listening or pretending to be listening to a caller and watching the clock for the end of the show. She clearly wanted out.

They went back into the control room and crowded around Hilton’s computer desk.

“You’re brilliant,” Jessie told Veronica. Hilton could see she was filled with admiration.

“God, this is making me sick,” Dave said.

“Exactly, pass the barf bag,” Hilton said. She pulled up the Web site and began searching for the bear.

“Dudes, if we know the Web site can’t you just order another bear?” he said.

“We can’t. The bear had identifying characteristics,” Jessie said, sitting on the corner of Hilton’s desk.

“Like what?” Dave asked.

Lillian was staring intently at Jessie, who smiled and waved at her. “Like this sterling silver locket thing she has hanging around her neck,” Jessie replied.

“Dude, the bear has jewelry,” Dave said incredulously.

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Lillian pulled off her headphones. “You look just like my second cousin’s dead nephew,” she said, pointing at Jessie.

“Great,” Jessie said, looking to Hilton for guidance. Hilton shrugged. “How’d he die?” she asked.

Hilton stifled a laugh as Dave gave Jessie the don’t-go-there look. Jessie, of course, didn’t get it.

“Well, you see, one year down on the river …” Lillian started.

“Lillian, the show’s almost over and you’ve got to clear the lines. Maybe you can tell us the story later,” Dave suggested.

“Right, but you are the spitting image of him, poor little fellah.” She put her headphones back on and got to work.

Hilton had located and printed off a picture of Amelia Bearhart.

“Okay, Jessie, come with me.” Veronica snatched the copy from Hilton. “We’ll get the flyers going so right after the show we can canvas the area. Time is of the essence. I think we can discount Lillian due to her age, but the rest of us, including Dave, could cover a lot of ground.”

Dave gave her a look. “Gee, it’s a good thing I didn’t have plans.”

Over her shoulder Veronica said, “You might think about inviting the mail harlot to make your community service more palatable.”

“It’ll look good for your new girlfriend. It’ll show your sensitive side,” Hilton added.

“I guess you’re right,” Dave replied. He didn’t look completely convinced.

Anne came flying out of the booth. “My goodness, I thought the show would never end. Dave, did you have to leave me hanging out there so long? Good God! How about some extra commercials or something? I’m sick of stupid stories and I have to pee like a racehorse. Hilton, come with me and fill me in.”

Hilton got up and was about to follow Anne when Lillian nearly plowed her over.

“Dude, be careful. I got between her and her cigarette break once and got cold-cocked. She’s built like a Mack truck.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” Hilton said. She followed Anne 92

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into the restroom and sat on the vanity while Anne took care of her bodily needs.

“I don’t remember anything in my contract that stated I needed a gallon-sized bladder.”

“It’s all the coffee you drink. Coffee is a diuretic.”

“Oh, well, that’s not happening anytime soon. I love coffee.”

“Perhaps we could put in a requisition for a portable toilet in the booth.”

Anne laughed. “I could just see Veronica denying the purchase order as an unnecessary expense. Now, what’s going on with your friend and Veronica. I swear it looked like love at first sight.”

It was Hilton’s turn to laugh. “No, say it isn’t so. Actually, we have a big household problem.”

“Can I help?” Anne said. She washed her hands.

“Not unless you’re good with a staple gun.”

“I’ve never actually used one but I can’t imagine they’re that difficult. What is Jessie so upset about?”

“She lost Amelia Bearhart at the park and she wanted to use Shannon as a tracker dog.”

“I see. Can I ask a personal question?”

“Sure.” Hilton hopped down from the vanity.

“What’s a grown-up woman doing with a teddy bear? I mean, isn’t she a little old for toys?”

“It’s not hers.”

“Oh, the plot thickens.”

“It belongs to our other roommate Liz’s girlfriend. Jessie was bear-sitting while they went out for lunch. I think it’s part of Liz’s plan to get Melissa to loosen her hold on the bear.”

“But why does she have the bear?”

“She was traumatized when her first lover—and from the sounds of it, her only girlfriend—left her. She gave her the bear as a surrogate, I suppose. She takes it with her everywhere.”

“So Jessie is in deep shit if we don’t find the bear.”

“We need to mobilize—flyers everywhere—and hopefully the bear will be returned to its rightful owner.”

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There was a knock on the door. “Dudes, Veronica says we’ve got to move it, like time is of the essence or some shit,” Dave said.

“Veronica is kind of a control freak,” Hilton said.

“You just noticed that?”

Hilton pinched her arm. “Gran said you should always assume people are good …”

“Until they screw you,” Anne finished.

“Yeah, and then she said you can let the big guns out.”

“I would have liked her,” Anne said, opening the door for Hilton.

“What on earth were you two doing in there for so long?”

Veronica said. Her arms were full of flyers that she immediately thrust at Hilton. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re to find the bear and save Jessie from certain torture.”

“Hilton has irritable bowel syndrome. Cut her some slack.”

Hilton’s jaw dropped and she gaped at Anne.

Anne laughed and then gave her a shove. “Chop chop. We’re behind schedule and we haven’t even begun.”

“I’m going to get you for that,” Hilton said. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“I amaze myself sometimes. Now, let’s go find the bear.”

They headed across town to Lincoln Park. Veronica, as she was known to do, coordinated the troops and sent everyone off. Veronica and Jessie headed west. Dave and his girlfriend, Gwin, headed south while Hilton, Anne and Shannon were sent off to the eastern end.

Shannon rebelled and went off to sit under a big sugar maple tree whose leaves were still holding but had turned bright yellow.

“All right, but no wandering,” Hilton told her.

“I wish I had a camera,” Anne said. She pointed to the yellow tree with the white dog under a perfect blue sky. It would make a great screen saver.”

“You want a picture?”

“Yes.”

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Hilton rummaged around in her backpack and pulled out her digital camera. She pointed it at Anne and took a photo.

“You truly are a gear queen. But I don’t want a picture of me.”

“I know. But I do. It’s payment.” Hilton pointed the camera at Shannon and took another photo. Shannon, who had had hundreds of pictures taken of her, seemed to almost pose. Hilton had exactly one photo of her father and two of her mother. That was why she had purchased the camera, so that her life would stop passing her by with nothing to document the passing of time. She showed the picture to Anne. “Is that what you want?”

“That’s perfect. Thank you.”

Veronica came marching over.

“Oh, we’re in trouble now,” Anne said.

“Watch this,” Hilton said. She took another photo.

“You two are supposed to be getting flyers up.” Veronica seemed not to notice that her control-freak behavior had just been photo-documented.

“All right, we’re going,” Hilton said. She stuffed the camera back in her bag.

“Start twelve blocks away and then start moving back toward the park,” Veronica instructed.

When Veronica was out of earshot, Anne asked, “What are you going to do with that photo?”

“Put it on the Web site with an applicable caption.”

Anne laughed. “You’re almost as bad as I am.”

They left Shannon resting under the tree and trudged off three blocks. Anne pointed out various architectural styles of the old houses they passed. Hilton was still stewing about what a horrible control freak Veronica was. This was classic displacement, she knew. A therapist would tell her that she was angry with Jessie for losing the bear, and she was worried about Liz losing her chance at love because of the lost bear. Veronica was only trying to help.

“Okay, let’s start here.” Her mood was improving now that she’d done some processing. She unlocked and loaded the staple gun as Anne looked on.

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“You know, power tools and tools in general have always fascinated me, but they kind of make me nervous at the same time.”

Hilton laughed. “You do have to be careful but staple guns are pretty harmless.”

“They do look pretty rudimentary,” Anne said as she handed Hilton a flyer.

They hit every telephone pole they could find for ten blocks.

“Maybe I should try the staple gun,” Anne suggested.

“Did Gerald do everything?” Hilton asked, wondering what Anne’s ex-husband looked like.

“Yes. I was always the assistant.”

“Well, then it’s high time you tried your hand at it.” Hilton put the safety latch on the gun and handed it to her. “When you’re ready, pull this off and then push down on the lever.”

Anne lined up the flyer and then perfectly stapled it. She jumped a little as the gun went off but that was all.

“See, that was awesome. Come on, let’s try some more.”

“I did jump a little.”

“I hardly noticed.”

Anne smiled at her. They hit a few more poles until they stood at the last one at the edge of the park. Shannon was still sleeping under the tree. Anne was poised to fire when she stopped. “Oh, my God, will you look at that.”

“What?” Then Hilton saw. Veronica was rubbing Jessie’s shoulders as she sat on one of the park benches. They were engrossed in discussion. She wondered where Dave and his girlfriend had gotten off to.

“What’s up with that? It almost has an element of tenderness,”

Anne said.

“I think it’s love at first sight.”

“No way!” Anne was behind her at the telephone pole and cocking the staple gun again.

“Who would have thought,” Hilton said, bemused with the idea. She could just imagine Jessie, complete with leather outfit, living happily ever after under Veronica’s domination.

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“Oh, no!” Anne screeched.

Hilton whipped around. She saw Anne’s thumb stapled to the pole. “Holy shit. Will it come off?”

“I hope so or we’ll have to call the fire department.” Anne lifted her thumb off the pole.

“That’s a good sign.” Then she saw the staple had gone clean through the corner of Anne’s thumbnail. “Kind of.”

“I might have to cry,” Anne said, peering down at it.

“Perfectly understandable.”

“I think we need to get this removed.”

Hilton whistled for Shannon, who came running, and they hus-tled over to where Veronica and Jessie were sitting.

“All finished?” Jessie said brightly.

“You could say that. Anne stapled her thumb.”

“Ouch! Let me see that.” Anne produced the damaged appendage. Veronica peered at it and winced. It was almost a wince of compassion, Hilton thought ruefully.

“I can get that out.” Jessie made for her car and came back with an opened pint of Jack Daniels and a screwdriver.

Anne was obviously mortified as Jessie came toward her. “We’ll just pop it out. But here, take a few swigs of this first.” She handed Anne the bottle.

Anne took two swigs and then took two more. “Oh, now that was a good idea.”

Hilton intervened. “Jessie, this isn’t the Wild West. We need to take her to the emergency room and have it surgically removed, like in a sterile environment.”

Jessie looked crestfallen.

“It was a nice thought, Jessie, but I think Hilton is right.

Although, the Jack Daniels makes a great painkiller,” Anne said diplomatically. She took another swig.

“You guys find Dave and Gwin and we’ll go get this taken care of. Jessie, can you take Shannon with you? And for goodness’ sakes don’t lose her,” Hilton said.

“I won’t. Then we can all meet back at the house. There’ll be 97

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less of a scene if there’s a crowd. You know, when Melissa finds out.”

“Jessie, you know our house never looks that great.” Hilton was envisioning the party days with the liquor bottles and pizza boxes everywhere and the no-longer-stain-resistant living room furniture.

“No, today is different. Well, actually from now on it’ll be different.”

“Why is that?” Hilton asked.

“The Merry Maids are coming today, and I ordered new furniture. It came this morning. The place looks great. I sent the bill to the accountant. He wasn’t real happy about it until I mentioned that as an heiress you shouldn’t be living in a biohazard. I told him Nat was gone. Then he seemed all right with the improvements.”

Anne looked on wide-eyed and then took another swig. Hilton just laughed. “So you’re in charge now.”

“Well, yeah. Look, Nat’s gone and so are the people who used to trash the house. So I took the liberty to spiff up the place and then … I lost the bear.”

“It’s going to work out. Take everyone home and we’ll meet you there.”

Anne handed Hilton the car keys. “I don’t think I can drive or should drive.”

“Are you okay? You’re not going into shock, are you?” Hilton studied the hanky that Anne had wrapped around her thumb. It was bloody.

“No, but after all the JD I don’t think I should get behind the wheel.”

Hilton drove them to Saint John’s Hospital. At one o’clock in the afternoon the emergency room was relatively slow. Hilton figured that it was the middle of the day and the middle of the week.

Not exactly prime time for auto accidents, stabbings, gunshot wounds or cutting your hand off with a table saw.

As the nurse led them to an examination room forty-five minutes later, she asked, “Are you a relative?”

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“Yes, Hilton’s my sister and I’m going to need her moral support.”

“All right, then. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

“That was quick on your part,” Hilton whispered.

“Aren’t we all brothers and sisters in God’s eyes? Is this like a Homoslavia issue?”

“Yes, and one of the big ones. Usually, we lie like you just did but sometimes it doesn’t work and then we run into problems.”

Anne sat on the exam table and Hilton took the chair. She hated hospitals. It always reminded her of Gran dying and the months she had spent there waiting for death to come.

The doctor came in. “So what do we have here?” He was young with dark hair and dressed in wrinkled green scrubs. He peered down at her thumbnail. “Ouch.”

“That’s what I said,” Anne replied.

“Were you drinking when you did this?” the doctor asked as he prepared a syringe.

“No, that was afterward, but I did turn down an offer to have it plucked out with a screwdriver.”

“Good choice. This is going to prick a bit. It’s a shot of Novocain just to numb it up.”

“I think that’s a marvelous idea.”

Hilton’s cell phone went off. It was Liz frantically yelling, “Tell me those flyers I saw on the way home weren’t for our bear.”

Hilton took a deep breath. “Liz, it’s all right. Jessie is on her way home and I’ll be there as soon as we get the staple removed from Anne’s thumb.”

“Oh, my, is she all right?”

Hilton looked over at Anne, who smiled at her weakly. “Not exactly, but she’s got balls.”

Hilton turned away when the doctor took out a pair of what looked like pliers and prepared to yank. She took another deep breath.

“Are you all right?” Liz asked.

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff.”

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“She lost the bear, right?”

“Yes, at the park. We put up flyers everywhere around there.

Liz, we’ll find the bear. Get out the good brandy and a box of Excaliber cigars and start taking her mind off the bear.”

“Why brandy and cigars?”

“It artificially induces dopamine into the system. It makes you feel better.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did I until I read it in a magazine in the waiting room.”

“Hilton?”

“Yes.”

“Is Melissa going to hate me?”

“No, she’s going to be extremely angry with Jessie. You’re going to be her shoulder to cry on, her port in the storm, her staff of moral support …”

“Stop. One more cliche and I’ll puke.”

“Sorry. We’ll be home soon.” Hilton looked over at Anne, who was having her thumb bandaged up.

“Hilton, what happened to the house?”

“Ask Jessie.”

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Date: 2015-04-20; view: 654