Page 46 of The Love Scam
That surprised a giggle out of her. “Yes, you’ve nailed it. My life in its entirety.”
“You know who I should be asking?” he added, thinking out loud. “Sofia! She doesn’t treat small talk like it’s a police interrogation.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever been arrested.”
“Ha! Shows what you know, Delaney, Ihavebeen arrested! Disturbing the peace, public drunkenness, assault—but Blake actually started that one, not that anyone ever believed me except my grandma. I always lawyered up before any interrogation could really get going. That pissed my mom off something awful when we were still broke. What? Stop giggling. I’m sharing intimate portraits of my hardscrabble upbringing.”
“I wasn’t laughing,” she managed, then cracked up again.“Hardscrabble! The local gourmet shop ran out of your favorite pâté?”
“I fucking hate pâté. Uh. Sorry, Lillith.”
“What’s pâté?”
“It’s when a bunch of sick idiots cram geese full of food, kill them, then grind up the body organ that makes bile so people can spend way too much money on it so they can spread it on their toast.”
“Nooooo.” Lillith looked equal parts fascinated and revolted. “Really?”
“I swear to God, kiddo, somebody lost a bet. That’s the only reason they tried it.” His voice was rising; he didn’t care. People were turning to look; he gave not a shit. “Then they were too embarrassed to admit it tasted exactly like a ground organ that makes puke would taste, and hundreds of years later, people are still pretending it’s not the worst thing in the world.”
“That’s it.” Delaney was smiling, the nice smile, not the smirk. “That’s it exactly. You’ve nailed it.”
Heh, she said “nail”—focus!“We were talking about how you don’t like to talk. Not about important things, I mean.”
An eye roll. “That’s pretty good, coming from you.”
“Touché, jerk. I meant what I said, though, about talking to Sofia. She at least likes to talk about things besides nothing. A master—mistress?—of small talk. In fact, she…” He trailed off, remembering whathadpassed for small talk between the two of them.
Her work is my work.
Holy shit.
I would never take her money. She has given me everything.
“Holy shit!” he cried, then waved at the heads that snapped around. “Scusa, scusa.” And in a lower voice: “You scooped Sofia off the streets just like you did that kid!”
“No.” Delaney’s solemn expression cracked and she giggled. “She was better than the kid. She actually got my wallet and was halfway up the street before I caught her.”
He was too delighted to speak. Claire Delaney: Pickpocket Bounty Hunter. And then they were at the window and Claire was presenting her FedEx slip and Lillith asked if she could use the ladies’ room and he said yes and they both watched her as she went in and then Delaney was handing him a box, which he hugged to his chest and then cradled like the most precious infant ever conceived, and Lillith came back out no harm no foul and everything was right and good in the world, probably.
His last happy moment, in fact, before the nightmarereallykicked into gear.
Twenty-six
Loathsome brother,
I am being held hostage in our mother’s hometown and cannot escape the observation that this is ALL YOUR FAULT. She controls the keys to the kingdom, the money, and the nuclear option. Take a moment and think about what that means.*
“Oh myGod.”They’d taken a vaporetto back to the hotel, which was awesome because nothing kicked more ass than a vaporetto. Any water bus instantly put any land bus to shame; it was the rule. Lillith, a sensible and wise child, backed him immediately. Then Delaney talked him down from where he’d perched, arms spread and yodeling, “I’m king of the worrrrrrrlllddd!” by promising he could use her laptop to charge his phone. And, even better, hop on iTunes and copy everything over to the new phone.
He’d been slobberingly grateful, which he expressed at the top of his lungs once he’d climbed down. She’d then sensibly/ruthlessly pointed out that he could have had a phone much sooner if he’d just opted for a cheap burner, and he’d retorted that even the poverty-stricken liked iPhones, and two days of manual labor and two of sporadic vomiting wasn’t the end of the world, and was she going to criticize how he spent all his money, or just when he used his money for phones?
Then the three of them sulked for a few minutes. (He had no idea why Lillith was sulking, but couldn’t ask because it meant breaking his own sulk.)
Back in the room, he’d plugged it in—how much joy the little things brought!—and Delaney watched like a hawk while he used her laptop. “What have you got on here, launch codes? Jesus, I can actually feel your hot breath on the back of my neck. That wasn’t a criticism!” he added as she backed off.
Then, as the thing slowly charged, it began to wake up…
(“It’s aliiiiiive!”
