Page 67 of The Spirit of Love
“You okay?” I ask. “You seem nervous.”
“I am. I didn’t plan this out very well. What I was going to say to you.”
“No script?” I meant to sound teasing, but my voice is strained. I realize it’s because I’m bracing myself for bad news. He’s going to say he changed his mind about Buster’s climax scene, and about finding a way to “work together.”
Or worse. Jude could fire me.
We reach the top of the stairs and I turn to face him, readying myself to withstand the blow.
“I was wondering,” Jude starts to say just as Edie’s front door opens and Walter Matthau sprints inside my sister’s house.
“Auntie Fenny got us a puppy!!!!” Frank shrieks at the top of his lungs. I peer inside to see the dog pummeling my nephew with kisses like Frank is his long-lost alpha.
“This is Walter Matthau,” I tell Frank, then Teddy, who comes running out to pummel the dog with kisses of his own. “He’s on loan only for a short visit!” I turn to Jude. “Well, now you have to stay for dinner. Or at least, Walter Matthau does. Sorry.”
Edie appears in the doorway, wearing a towel and a shower cap, Jarvis in her arms. She hugs me tightly. Jarvis coos. “Thank God you survived that awful place.”
Over my shoulder she must have clocked Jude because her body language shifts and she tugs up her towel, as if that’s all that’s needed to make herself presentable. “Who’s this?”
“Um, Edie, Jarv, this is…Jude de Silva.”
“No shit!” Edie says, then clamps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I haven’t slept in several years.”
“Jude, this is my sister, Edie. And Jarvis.”
“Hey, Edie, Jarvis,” Jude says warmly, shaking my sister’s hand, then Jarvis’s. “Great house. Great kids.”
“Did you tell him to say that?” Edie asks me, suspicious. I give Jude a wink because he winged it and did good.
“They’re staying for dinner!” Teddy shouts from inside, laughing with Frank as they discover Walter Matthau’s tickle spot behind his ears.
“Come in,” Edie beckons us. “I’ll just throw something on real quick. I can shower when I’m dead.”
We step inside her living room, with its views of the backyard, where my brother-in-law seems to be cursing at the grill.
“He doesn’t know shit about propane,” Edie says under her breath. She turns to Jude. “That’s Todd. Can you help him? He needs help. A lot of help.”
Jude glances at me, then at Walter Matthau, who seems to have a new lease on life. The dog is playing tug-of-war with Teddy, Frank, and a couch pillow.
“Is this okay?” Jude asks me.
“Totally. Good luck with Todd,” I say.
Alone-ish, Edie grips my wrist and tugs me into her bedroom. I bounce Jarvis while she changes.
“What’s going on?” She point in the general direction of the backyard, of Jude.
“Idon’tknow.”
“I told you crazy shit happens in the desert.”
“One minute, the production van was dropping me off…”
“The next, he’s out there talking to Todd about…” Edie leans in close to the window. “Brazilian soccer teams?”
I shrug.
Edie laughs. “Todd is pretending he knows a single damned think about soccer. Jude does though.”
