Page 41 of Stilettos & Whiskey
“The firemen need to focus on putting out the fire, not your girls,” I replied.
She nodded and pulled on a sheer robe that hid nothing.
“I ain’t covering up,” Sam announced, scratching at his arm.
Fighting back the urge to toss him in the pool, I gave him my Debbie Sunshine smile. “That’s your choice, but I think you have hell’s itch.”
“Hell’s itch?”
“Have you ever gotten into poison ivy?”
Sam nodded.
“It’s like that and it’s caused by too much sun.”
Bertha eyed him. “You do have a rather bad sunburn. Let’s go back to the clubhouse and I’ll put some lotion on you.”
“Good idea.” Sam wrapped an arm around Bertha’s waist and off they went.
I let out a breath of relief. Managing old folks was like herding cats. They never did what you wanted them to do.
Nate and Lucas were banging on doors and warning the tenants about the fire.
I started for them.
“Stay put,” Lucas yelled. “We’ve got this.”
Lucas was taking this protective shit a little too far.
As Grandpa moved his slightly damaged van away from the blaze, a fire truck pulled into the parking lot with sirens blaring. A patrol car and a Peoria Police Department bomb truck followed closely behind it.
Frank bailed out of his patrol car and rushed over to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but my apartment is gonna be a total loss.”
He grimaced. “You wouldn’t have been able to move back in anyway. The place reeked of urine.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
We watched the firefighters douse the flames.
“Good thing your dad had already salvaged what he could. Roger did a number on your stuff.”
My cellphone rang. God, I hoped it wasn’t Mom. I reluctantly answered it, “Hello?”
“Julie, I’m calling you like I promised. We’re having a wonderful time,” Gemma said happily.
“You didn’t do something stupid like getting married, did you?”
“No, but we are tempted,” Gemma laughed.
The joy in Gemma’s voice made me smile. “I’m so jealous. You’re getting romantic sunset cruises and I’m getting…”
Frank’s eyes widened in alarm, and he made a slashing movement across his throat.
Like I would ruin her vacation? “I’m getting to pick up dead critters.”
“Oh, no. What did you do to piss off Sergeant Bergman?” Gemma’s carefree laughter eased the pit in my stomach.
