A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [86]
“My supper. Your aunt Sue, she wants me to come in. Here.” He held out his hand as if to shake hers. She felt cash pass into her palm. “You be good now. And no more lies.”
As the door opened and closed behind him, the spicy smell of spaghetti sauce made her ache inside. As she bent down, lights pin-wheeled behind her eyes with this brilliant image of pansies and daisies and roses bubbling in a thick red sauce. She picked up Leonardo so they wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing him refuse to walk with her. “Cheap bastard,” she muttered. Two lousy dollars. A landlord with his own business, clients even, and that’s all he’d given her. It wasn’t fair. Well, he could just go fuck himself for all she cared. They all could. Every goddamn one of them. The whole fucking goddamn world. Who the hell was he telling her not to lie, when that’s all they did, all the time, him and his bitch wife, everyone, every motherfucking fucker she’d ever known? “I’m so hungry,” she whispered at Leonardo’s ear. “So fucking hungry, I could cry.” And then she did. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she laughed out loud. A little old woman walked toward her, pulling a wire cart filled with bags. A brown cloth pocketbook dangled from the crook of her arm. What could be easier? Just grab it and run like hell. Even with Leonardo she’d be long gone before the old lady knew what hit her. Closer. Closer now. Alarmed by her fierce grip, he began to bark. “Don’t, don’t,” she hissed, squeezing him. “Shut up! Will you shut up!” The barking intensified.
The old lady smiled. “What a cute puppy. What’s his name?”
“Leonardo.” Damn, she shouldn’t have said his real name.
“Leonardo, hello, Leonardo,” the old lady crooned, and tickled his straining neck. “Can I give him a doggie treat? I just got some. I keep them for when my son’s dogs come over. They’re these little black poodles. They’re in here somewhere.” She set her purse on the ground and began digging through the bags. Jada stepped closer. Her foot was touching the pocketbook. “Here!” The old lady ripped open a box and held out a small dog biscuit, which Leonardo lapped from her hand. She gave him another one, then glanced up at Jada with a fading smile. “What’s the matter? Why’re you looking at me like that? What’s wrong?” She picked up her pocketbook and brushed it off.
“Nothing. I’m just hungry, that’s all.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have held you up like this. Well anyway . . .” She put the box back into the bag. “I’ll let you go, and it was very nice meeting you. You, too, Leonardo,” she called, pulling her cart to the curb. She paused, looking both ways before she crossed the street.
CHAPTER 13
“ Good morning,” Gordon said over the pallet of cereal boxes he was wheeling down the aisle.
“Good morning,” Serena and June answered in dull unison, heads lifting like startled birds at his approach.
He asked where Neil was. He hadn’t written an egg order, so the Hensmen driver said he’d stop by again at the end of his route.
“He’s out back, slicing boxes,” Serena said.
“He is?” He stepped around the pallet. “Why’s he doing that? I always get them done in time.” After the holdup, a fire lieutenant had come into the Market to tell Neil not to store boxes at the front of the store anymore. A violation, they were a fire and safety hazard. “This whole city’s a fire and safety hazard,” Neil had said, laughing bitterly.
The women continued to look at him with wide-eyed, blank expressions, as if holding their breath against fouled air. He could feel their eyes on him all the way to the back of the store. Neil was outside, stacking the flattened boxes by the loading dock. “You don’t have to do that, Neil. I’ll take care of it.” He hurried down the rickety steps. Since the holdup, Neil had been barely speaking to him. He couldn’t seem to please him no matter how hard he worked.
Neil grunted and cut another box.
“Go inside. I’ll finish the rest.”
“I’m almost done,” Neil said, slicing all four sides.
“I’ll put them in the Dumpster, then,” Gordon said. He began