Thirty-Two and a Half Complications
Page 88
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She answered back a few minutes later.
I would never consider being anything but nice to her. That’s just insulting. Tell her I look forward to seeing her.
Typical Violet.
Are you still planning on coming for Thanksgiving?
There was a ten-second lapse before she answered.
Are we still welcome?
Despite everything, we’re still sisters, Vi. Of course you’re welcome.
There was a pause again, then: I’ll let you know.
Bruce Wayne and I met at our new jobsite. It was a small job and would only take a few days. “We need to scrounge up some follow-up work,” I said as we used a garden hose to figure out the curve of the short landscaping wall we planned to build. “The trouble is that most people think we can’t work in the winter. We need to make them realize that as long as the ground’s not frozen, the cooler months are the best time to plant.”
“Have you got any ideas?”
I sighed. “Not a one. I guess we should worry about surviving first.” I told him about Mason’s offer of financial assistance. “But it’s a few days late and probably several thousand dollars short. Not that I told him how much we needed.”
“I suspect it’s too late to get out of our deal with Skeeter anyhow. Now that he knows about your gift, he’s not gonna let it go.”
“Great.” I sighed again.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have told him, but I was scared.”
“No, you did the right thing. I just hope to hear something from him soon.”
After we wrapped things up for the day, I stopped at the Piggly Wiggly to do my Thanksgiving shopping. The turkeys were picked over, but I found a twenty-pounder and filled the cart until it was overflowing since I was out of just about everything I would need. Just my luck, I’d gotten a cart with a sticky wheel, and the more I piled in, the harder it was to push. Realizing I couldn’t fit any more groceries onto my heaping pile, I leaned over and gave the cart a good shove toward the checkout lane when a man by the bakery section caught my eye. I wouldn’t have thought anything about it, except I thought I’d seen the bank robber in the same location the previous day. Stopping in the middle of the main aisle, I turned around and gasped in shock.
The Batman bank robber was standing there in the Piggly Wiggly’s bakery aisle, squeezing the day-old bread.
It took me a full two seconds to overcome my shock. But by the time I’d come to my senses, he was already moving toward the back of the store.
“Excuse me,” a grumpy woman snarled.
My cart was currently angled diagonally across the main aisle, blocking customers coming from both directions.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, leaning into the cart and putting all my weight into it to change directions.
I finally got the buggy turned around and headed down the cereal aisle toward the possible robber, hoping to intercept him. But as I reached the end of the aisle, a cart came barreling out of nowhere and slammed into mine, sending it toppling onto its side with a loud bang. The contents of my cart spilled out, the turkey sliding across the floor and slamming into a stack of canned sweet potatoes, which toppled over like pins in a bowling alley.
Several customers screamed and jumped out of the way of rolling cans.
“You tried to kill me!” A man’s irate voice filled my now-aching head.
I glanced up to see Officer Ernie with his half-empty cart. He was dressed in skin-tight acid-washed jeans, a Def Leppard T-shirt, and a puffy, sleeveless powder-blue ski vest.
I put my hands on my hips. “You’re the one who slammed into me!”
“I shoulda known.” The police officer shook his head with a disgusted look. “If there’s trouble, I can bet you’re a part of it.”
“I need to—”
“You need to clean up this mess.”
“But I think I saw one of the bank robbers!” Oh, Lordy. Why did I tell him that?
He snorted. “And I saw the Easter Bunny on aisle four. Start cleanin’. Now.”
The Henryetta police would never listen to me and I needed to track down that bank robber since that liar Skeeter Malcolm wasn’t going to come through on our agreement. I jumped to my feet and took off running toward the back corner of the store, but Officer Ernie caught up with me and grabbed my arm. I shook him loose, but he tumbled sideways into a giant cereal box display arranged into the shape of a giant turkey.
The tower of boxes fell, a few of them bursting open to send tiny cereal letters flying everywhere. I gaped at the angry police officer climbing to his feet in front of me.
He grabbed my arm before I had the sense to take off running. “Rose Gardner! You’re under arrest.”
As he handcuffed me, pushing me out the front doors, I wondered what else could possibly go wrong.
I should have learned long ago to never ask that question.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I stared at the holding cell walls, not surprised by how familiar they looked. I’d been in this same jail cell several months before for contempt of court.
I flopped down on the small cot, which wasn’t any more comfortable than it had been last time. “I wonder if they’ll give me a bologna sandwich this time too,” I muttered to myself.
Mason’s voice drifted down the hall. “Only if I leave you in here for long enough to find out.” He stopped at the front of my cell, hanging onto one of the bars. “I’m feeling a bit of déjà vu.”
I would never consider being anything but nice to her. That’s just insulting. Tell her I look forward to seeing her.
Typical Violet.
Are you still planning on coming for Thanksgiving?
There was a ten-second lapse before she answered.
Are we still welcome?
Despite everything, we’re still sisters, Vi. Of course you’re welcome.
There was a pause again, then: I’ll let you know.
Bruce Wayne and I met at our new jobsite. It was a small job and would only take a few days. “We need to scrounge up some follow-up work,” I said as we used a garden hose to figure out the curve of the short landscaping wall we planned to build. “The trouble is that most people think we can’t work in the winter. We need to make them realize that as long as the ground’s not frozen, the cooler months are the best time to plant.”
“Have you got any ideas?”
I sighed. “Not a one. I guess we should worry about surviving first.” I told him about Mason’s offer of financial assistance. “But it’s a few days late and probably several thousand dollars short. Not that I told him how much we needed.”
“I suspect it’s too late to get out of our deal with Skeeter anyhow. Now that he knows about your gift, he’s not gonna let it go.”
“Great.” I sighed again.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have told him, but I was scared.”
“No, you did the right thing. I just hope to hear something from him soon.”
After we wrapped things up for the day, I stopped at the Piggly Wiggly to do my Thanksgiving shopping. The turkeys were picked over, but I found a twenty-pounder and filled the cart until it was overflowing since I was out of just about everything I would need. Just my luck, I’d gotten a cart with a sticky wheel, and the more I piled in, the harder it was to push. Realizing I couldn’t fit any more groceries onto my heaping pile, I leaned over and gave the cart a good shove toward the checkout lane when a man by the bakery section caught my eye. I wouldn’t have thought anything about it, except I thought I’d seen the bank robber in the same location the previous day. Stopping in the middle of the main aisle, I turned around and gasped in shock.
The Batman bank robber was standing there in the Piggly Wiggly’s bakery aisle, squeezing the day-old bread.
It took me a full two seconds to overcome my shock. But by the time I’d come to my senses, he was already moving toward the back of the store.
“Excuse me,” a grumpy woman snarled.
My cart was currently angled diagonally across the main aisle, blocking customers coming from both directions.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, leaning into the cart and putting all my weight into it to change directions.
I finally got the buggy turned around and headed down the cereal aisle toward the possible robber, hoping to intercept him. But as I reached the end of the aisle, a cart came barreling out of nowhere and slammed into mine, sending it toppling onto its side with a loud bang. The contents of my cart spilled out, the turkey sliding across the floor and slamming into a stack of canned sweet potatoes, which toppled over like pins in a bowling alley.
Several customers screamed and jumped out of the way of rolling cans.
“You tried to kill me!” A man’s irate voice filled my now-aching head.
I glanced up to see Officer Ernie with his half-empty cart. He was dressed in skin-tight acid-washed jeans, a Def Leppard T-shirt, and a puffy, sleeveless powder-blue ski vest.
I put my hands on my hips. “You’re the one who slammed into me!”
“I shoulda known.” The police officer shook his head with a disgusted look. “If there’s trouble, I can bet you’re a part of it.”
“I need to—”
“You need to clean up this mess.”
“But I think I saw one of the bank robbers!” Oh, Lordy. Why did I tell him that?
He snorted. “And I saw the Easter Bunny on aisle four. Start cleanin’. Now.”
The Henryetta police would never listen to me and I needed to track down that bank robber since that liar Skeeter Malcolm wasn’t going to come through on our agreement. I jumped to my feet and took off running toward the back corner of the store, but Officer Ernie caught up with me and grabbed my arm. I shook him loose, but he tumbled sideways into a giant cereal box display arranged into the shape of a giant turkey.
The tower of boxes fell, a few of them bursting open to send tiny cereal letters flying everywhere. I gaped at the angry police officer climbing to his feet in front of me.
He grabbed my arm before I had the sense to take off running. “Rose Gardner! You’re under arrest.”
As he handcuffed me, pushing me out the front doors, I wondered what else could possibly go wrong.
I should have learned long ago to never ask that question.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I stared at the holding cell walls, not surprised by how familiar they looked. I’d been in this same jail cell several months before for contempt of court.
I flopped down on the small cot, which wasn’t any more comfortable than it had been last time. “I wonder if they’ll give me a bologna sandwich this time too,” I muttered to myself.
Mason’s voice drifted down the hall. “Only if I leave you in here for long enough to find out.” He stopped at the front of my cell, hanging onto one of the bars. “I’m feeling a bit of déjà vu.”
