Page 63 of Rest In Pink

Faye ignored me. “Peri—”

“No,” Peri said, her little face hardening.

“Peri, you should be with family, the people you love—”

“I love Liz,” she said flatly.

“I love you, too, baby,” I said to her, but I had Faye fixed in a death glare. “You come near her again, Faye, I’ll get a restraining order. I’m tired of this and so is Peri.”

I waited for Faye to high hat me, pulling the old Blue name on me, but she just looked defeated. I realized Crys had come to stand at Peri’s other side, arms folded, looking intimidating.

Good,I thought.

But Faye also looked frazzled and frightened. And that wasn’t good.

“I’m sorry, Faye,” I said and meant it. “You look like you’re in trouble. But you cannot have Peri, not now, not ever. You’ll have to solve your problems some other way.”

Then I took Peri’s hand, said good-bye to Crys, and left.

When we were in the car, I said, “She’s not going to take you.”

“I know,” Peri said, her voice sure. “You won’t let her. I swam the whole pool underwateragain!”

I looked down at her happy little face and realized why people wanted children, why they’d die for their kids. I still didn’t want any, but these days with Peri . . . she wasn’t a favor I was doing for Margot, she was a gift for me.

“I really do love you, kid,” I said.

“I know,” Peri said. “Can we get ice cream?”

“Absolutely,” I said and headed for Dairy Queen. Again.

* * *

When we got back to the Blue House, Peri went straight to the living room and got back to work on the bears with the markers and the stickers—lots of stickers—and I ran my five miles, a lot of crazy pop on the phone this time, including repeats ofShut Up and Dancewhich always makes me want to move. Then Anemone and I discussed the work plan for the day—I was going through Chapter Seven, The Writer, and she was going to write about the brownstone they’d had in the West Village—and I told her we’d start when I got back from lunch. She just smiled and patted Veronica.

I also had to start working on getting another car. Every time I left in Anemone’s little red rented sports car, I stranded her with Peri and Marianne. Although if I had to be stranded with anybody, I’d pick Peri and Marianne for the sheer entertainment value and the food. And Anemone, of course. And Molly. And definitely Vince. That’s who I’d want on my desert island. And Mac, so Vince would have somebody to talk to. And Will, who was good at everything. And Jill . . .

I was going to need a bigger island.

* * *

I parked behind the Red Box a little after eleven and went in to find Molly in a booth, already eating waffles. She eats like a locust and never gains a pound. Of course she also runs five miles a day. As I said, high school track haunts you.

I slid into the seat across from her and she said, “I told Kitty you were coming in about now so she—”

Kitty came by and slid a plate of eggs, sausage, hash browns, and waffles in front of me.

“Breakfast,” I said, leaning over to smell it. Maple syrup. “Since when do you serve breakfast?”

“Since I have two mortgages to pay off,” she said, sounding frazzled. “And Bill quit, so I’m training two new people. Who will go back to high school in September and I’ll start the whole thing over again.” She sighed.

“If you ever get stuck,” I said, “call me and I’ll fill in. I waitressed for the first couple of years after I left. I’m good. And God knows, I can recite the menu.”

“I bet you’re good,” she said, smiling at me. “Listen, don’t tell anybody about the mortgages. I’m doing just fine—”

The door opened again, and her smile got tense, and she went back to work.

“Since when does she have two mortgages?” I said to Molly.

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