has appeared at the table.
“She broke her leg in five places,” Megan says to Jack. “Not that I’m glad because that would be cruel but— five . Pins, surgery, she is fucked .”
Jack doesn’t say anything. Normandie is looking at Megan. Megan is wearing fingerless gloves, a “Stop Shark Finning” T-shirt, leggings. And a sombrero. “Who broke her leg?” he finally asks.
“Jyll. Miss Adelaide. She’s out of Guys and Dolls . And I’m in. Go me .” Megan does a spin, crosses her arms in front of her chest, and sings, “I love you, a bushel and a peck. Bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.”
“ Guys and Dolls is one of my favorite musicals,” Normandie says.
Normandie is sitting beside Jack. Talking to Megan.
Megan nods at Normandie. “The guy who’s Sky Masterson is incredible—gorgeous, gay, of course, and he’s got this Josh Groban voice, only more fuckable, you know what I mean?”
“When is it?” Normandie says. “I’d love to go.”
“Two weeks. Oh my God, I have so much to do, I’m going to be rehearsing all the time.” Megan turns to Jack.
What’s Megan going to say? Something about his potential Prince Albert? “How’d she break her leg?” he asks.
“Goofy,” Megan says, leaning over and picking at Jack’s potato chips. “Ski trip.”
“That doesn’t sound so goofy.” Normandie is smiling at Megan.
“She fell on the steps outside her condo.” Megan eats another chip and licks the salt off her fingers. “When do you want tickets? I can leave two for you at the box office,” she tells Normandie. “Just name the day.”
Normandie looks at Jack. Before she can open her mouth he speaks first. “I want to go opening night. Won’t that be like the best performance?”
“Maybe, assuming I’m ready.” Megan sighs. “Jyll’s anorexic, so they’ll have to let out her costumes.” She checks her watch. “Damn, I’m supposed to be at rehearsal. Hope I don’t break my leg.” She starts off, looks back at Normandie. “Let me know about the tickets.” And she’s gone.
Jack exhales. Has he been holding his breath this whole time? He thinks so; that must be why he feels almost ready to pass out. Dodged that bullet, whew . He pops the last bit of his falafel into his mouth and takes a sip of iced tea.
“I think your friend will make a great Miss Adelaide,” Normandie says. “She’s got so much personality.”
Jack nods, his mouth is full of falafel and tea.
Normandie tucks her hair behind her ears, smiles at Jack. “How long have you been sleeping with her?”
Laurie
Laurie holds the phone close to her head as if it will help the words she’s hearing make more sense. Her other hand presses lightly, protectively across her stomach.
“We are completely available to you and your husband, Mrs. Gaines. We’d be happy to refer you to a counselor.”
Laurie grips the phone tighter. “You’re sure? About the results.”
Dr. Julian hesitates. “Yes, there’s no chance of an error.”
Laurie looks around her kitchen—at the ceiling, at a chip in the plaster she’s never noticed before.
“I know this is unpleasant news. I’m very sorry. We’ll speak again soon. My best to your husband.”
Laurie allows the phone to slip from her hand. You bet we’ll speak again, buster. You and me and a roomful of attorneys—hoo- ray . We’ll get enough money to replaster the kitchen ceiling, remodel the master bath, buy the house next door, knock it down, and build a fucking compound.
I need a glass of wine , Laurie thinks. No, something stronger than wine. A Long Island Iced Tea. Forget all that crap about taking care of You and The Baby. Unless this isn’t happening, Dr. Julian didn’t call, it’s some pregnancy-induced hallucination . She pinches the skin between her thumb and index finger— nope, that hurts . She’s awake.
When she yanks open the cabinet door beside the refrigerator, it opens an inch and smashes against her fingernail.
“She broke her leg in five places,” Megan says to Jack. “Not that I’m glad because that would be cruel but— five . Pins, surgery, she is fucked .”
Jack doesn’t say anything. Normandie is looking at Megan. Megan is wearing fingerless gloves, a “Stop Shark Finning” T-shirt, leggings. And a sombrero. “Who broke her leg?” he finally asks.
“Jyll. Miss Adelaide. She’s out of Guys and Dolls . And I’m in. Go me .” Megan does a spin, crosses her arms in front of her chest, and sings, “I love you, a bushel and a peck. Bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.”
“ Guys and Dolls is one of my favorite musicals,” Normandie says.
Normandie is sitting beside Jack. Talking to Megan.
Megan nods at Normandie. “The guy who’s Sky Masterson is incredible—gorgeous, gay, of course, and he’s got this Josh Groban voice, only more fuckable, you know what I mean?”
“When is it?” Normandie says. “I’d love to go.”
“Two weeks. Oh my God, I have so much to do, I’m going to be rehearsing all the time.” Megan turns to Jack.
What’s Megan going to say? Something about his potential Prince Albert? “How’d she break her leg?” he asks.
“Goofy,” Megan says, leaning over and picking at Jack’s potato chips. “Ski trip.”
“That doesn’t sound so goofy.” Normandie is smiling at Megan.
“She fell on the steps outside her condo.” Megan eats another chip and licks the salt off her fingers. “When do you want tickets? I can leave two for you at the box office,” she tells Normandie. “Just name the day.”
Normandie looks at Jack. Before she can open her mouth he speaks first. “I want to go opening night. Won’t that be like the best performance?”
“Maybe, assuming I’m ready.” Megan sighs. “Jyll’s anorexic, so they’ll have to let out her costumes.” She checks her watch. “Damn, I’m supposed to be at rehearsal. Hope I don’t break my leg.” She starts off, looks back at Normandie. “Let me know about the tickets.” And she’s gone.
Jack exhales. Has he been holding his breath this whole time? He thinks so; that must be why he feels almost ready to pass out. Dodged that bullet, whew . He pops the last bit of his falafel into his mouth and takes a sip of iced tea.
“I think your friend will make a great Miss Adelaide,” Normandie says. “She’s got so much personality.”
Jack nods, his mouth is full of falafel and tea.
Normandie tucks her hair behind her ears, smiles at Jack. “How long have you been sleeping with her?”
Laurie
Laurie holds the phone close to her head as if it will help the words she’s hearing make more sense. Her other hand presses lightly, protectively across her stomach.
“We are completely available to you and your husband, Mrs. Gaines. We’d be happy to refer you to a counselor.”
Laurie grips the phone tighter. “You’re sure? About the results.”
Dr. Julian hesitates. “Yes, there’s no chance of an error.”
Laurie looks around her kitchen—at the ceiling, at a chip in the plaster she’s never noticed before.
“I know this is unpleasant news. I’m very sorry. We’ll speak again soon. My best to your husband.”
Laurie allows the phone to slip from her hand. You bet we’ll speak again, buster. You and me and a roomful of attorneys—hoo- ray . We’ll get enough money to replaster the kitchen ceiling, remodel the master bath, buy the house next door, knock it down, and build a fucking compound.
I need a glass of wine , Laurie thinks. No, something stronger than wine. A Long Island Iced Tea. Forget all that crap about taking care of You and The Baby. Unless this isn’t happening, Dr. Julian didn’t call, it’s some pregnancy-induced hallucination . She pinches the skin between her thumb and index finger— nope, that hurts . She’s awake.
When she yanks open the cabinet door beside the refrigerator, it opens an inch and smashes against her fingernail.
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