"No. It's a real question. Are we?"
She gave a little sniff. "Well,wecertainly are. Out of respect for this house, I would thinkyouwould want to do the same."
What Iwantedto do was grab her by the hair and slam her face into my trunk. What I did do was nod. "Alright, I'll dress up."
"And youwillbe bringing the salad?"
"Wait a minute," I said. "I thought I was bringing the dessert."
She gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "Mustwe do this again?"
"What again?"
With a shake of her head, she raised the clipboard and ran a long finger down a printed spreadsheet. Halfway down, she stopped. "Here," she said with a decisive finger-tap. "Chloe, salad." She looked up and raised her eyebrows. "AreyouChloe?"
"I dunno," I said. "Isthata rhetorical question?"
"Oh for Heaven's sake," she said. "Must everything be a joke with you?"
"I wasn't joking," I said. Well, okay, I was. But nothing about this seemed remotely funny to me. When it came to Loretta, I'd lost my sense of humor years ago.
"So," I said, "you want me to bring a salad?"
"Yes," she said in a tone of forced civility. "A salad would be lovely. Thank you."
Too bad the salad wasn't only for her. I'd have Chucky take a big crap in it. Then I'd feed it to her with a shovel. Now,thatwould be lovely.
"And what," she said, "is so funny now?"
"Nothing," I said. "Salad. Got it."
"I'll believe it when I see it," she said, before turning on her heels and heading back toward the house.
I was driving home when my cell phone rang. Desperate for a return call from the Parkers, I lunged for it and checked the display.
Lawton. Today was Friday, and he'd be home in three days. He'd been calling me every night. I loved hearing from him, and things would be even nicer when we could do more than just talk.
Still, as happy as I was to hear from him in the middle of the day, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that this wasn't the call I'd been desperate to receive.
I pressed the button. "Hello?"
"What's wrong?" he said.
"Nothing."
"Alright." He was quiet for a beat, and then said, "Got any plans for tonight?"
I had the night off, not that it would do any good. He was in Vegas, and I was here. "Not really," I said. "Why?"
"Because I've gotta be honest. I couldn't wait to see you."
"You came back early?" I said.
"You might say that."
I laughed. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he said, "that I'll be landing in a couple hours. I've got to be back in Vegas tomorrow morning, but I remembered you had tonight off, so—"
