Page 97 of Pretty Little Thing

Twenty-Four

Nora

We leaveMoira’s Cafe shortly before two. I cringe at the bright sunlight beaming down on me so I search my purse for a pair of sunglasses.

Trix pauses on the sidewalk. “You guys want to hit up a movie or something?”

I laugh. “Anything to keep you from going home, right?”

“You don’t understand,” she says. “My rejection of his little Kodak package is just making it worse. Might have to throw doggy a bone before shuffling him off to the pound.”

“Yeah, don’t do that.”

Melanie points across the street. “Hey, isn’t that Clive?”

I spin around. “Where?”

“The laundromat.”

Trix nudges between us. “Lemme see!”

I follow Melanie’s pointed finger and there’s Clive stepping out of the laundromat at the opposite corner.

“Yeah,” I say, my insides twisting with warmth. “That’s him.”

Trix swoons. “Daaaamn.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe I should go to Judy’s...”

Melanie nods. “Good, ole Judy,” she says. “She changes lives.”

Clive steps off the curb and pauses by the trunk of an old, beat-up car with a garment bag draped over his arm.

“Is that the mythical house-on-wheels?” Trix asks.

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “It’s possible he’s not homeless anymore, you guys. Mel, you did say your interview was half a year ago.”

“This is truth,” Melanie says.

Trix squints. “We should get closer.”

I twitch. “Why?”

“Well, if he’s got blankets and pillows in the back, then we’ll know where he sleeps.”

“There are loads of reasons why someone might have pillows and blankets in their car,” I argue.

“Oh, yeah? Name one.”

I stutter. “Camping?”

“Does Daddy seem like the camping type?”

I scoff. “Stop it. I don’t call him that.”

Clive pops his trunk and I can’t help but push up onto the tips of my toes to try and get a better look inside.

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