woman now. She could stop taking them for a while and see what happened. If it didn’t work out—if things started getting bad again—she could simply go back on them. It would be good to take a break. It would be sym bolic, even—like she was making a whole new start in life, along with moving into the new house.
Secretly, before the men came in, Francie stole into the bath room near the kitchen. She took the plastic cylinder out of her pocket and opened the childproof cap. Then, carefully, she tipped the last pill into the toilet and flushed it away.
What a bad girl am I, she thought, delighted with herself. “What’re you doing, Sissie?” Michael asked.
Francie whirled around, startled to see her brother standing be hind her. Quickly she put the plastic container back in her pocket. “Nothing, Mikey,” she said. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like
that!”
“Sorry. I thought you heard me,” said Michael. “What was that you just flushed away? ’Ludes?” He giggled.
“Cold medicine,” said Francie. “I had a cold. It’s gone now.” “Oh. And you’re planning on never having another cold again?” “It . . . had side effects,” said Francie.
“Oh. Listen, man, this is a hell of a house. Really something.” “Don’t you just love it?”
The Good Neighbor 87
“Yeah. Looks like we finally got that country place, huh?” Michael grinned at her, delighted. Francie smiled uneasily. “It’s big. And cold. Who lived here before?” he went on.
“We don’t know,” said Francie. “I mean, we sort of know. It was a family called the Musgroves. But they haven’t lived here in a long time.”
“Place is clean,” said Michael. “Doesn’t look like it’s been empty.”
“The bank said there was a caretaker. Someone’s been keeping it up for them, in case they ever sold it.”
“It suits you. Couldn’t see why you ever moved to New York in the first place.”
“It was a whim,” said Francie. “It was good for a while. But I’m done with it now. I think I can be happy here. I can really . . . open up.”
“And you’re happy with Colt?”
Francie was startled. “Of course I am, honey,” she said. She reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her brother ’s ear. “Why on earth would you think I wasn’t?”
“I just wondered, that’s all,” said Michael. “He’s so . . . edgy, I guess. Really businessy. He never really has anything nice to say about anything, didja ever notice? A real negative type. Tell the truth, I didn’t see you ending up with a guy like him, either.” He lowered his voice on this last thought, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. They were—sounds of shuffling feet and grunting came from the front of the house, where Colt and the movers were struggling with a sofa. “You’re really sensitive and artistic, and he’s . . .”
“I know,” said Francie. “Businessy. But we complement each other, honey. You don’t want to marry someone who’s just like you. You want them to fill in your missing pieces. Kind of like a jigsaw puzzle.”
“I guess so,” said Michael.
88 W ILLIAM K OWALSKI
“Don’t worry about me,” said Francie. “Your big sister can take care of herself. I was wondering about you, though. Is there some thing on your mind? Something bugging you?”
“Little help!” called Colt from the living room. “Hello! Francie!
Mike!”
Michael shuddered. “I hate it when he calls me ‘Mike,’ ” he said. “Makes me feel like one of his poker buddies.”
“Mikey? Was there something?”
Michael looked at the floor, then around at the walls. Francie knew this expression all too well; whatever it was, he was afraid to tell her. She waited.
“Not now,” he muttered. “Later.”
“We’ll talk,” said Francie. “Gimme a kiss.” She pulled her brother ’s ear to bend him down to her, and they bussed lightly. Then they went back out to the front of the house.
In the living
Secretly, before the men came in, Francie stole into the bath room near the kitchen. She took the plastic cylinder out of her pocket and opened the childproof cap. Then, carefully, she tipped the last pill into the toilet and flushed it away.
What a bad girl am I, she thought, delighted with herself. “What’re you doing, Sissie?” Michael asked.
Francie whirled around, startled to see her brother standing be hind her. Quickly she put the plastic container back in her pocket. “Nothing, Mikey,” she said. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like
that!”
“Sorry. I thought you heard me,” said Michael. “What was that you just flushed away? ’Ludes?” He giggled.
“Cold medicine,” said Francie. “I had a cold. It’s gone now.” “Oh. And you’re planning on never having another cold again?” “It . . . had side effects,” said Francie.
“Oh. Listen, man, this is a hell of a house. Really something.” “Don’t you just love it?”
The Good Neighbor 87
“Yeah. Looks like we finally got that country place, huh?” Michael grinned at her, delighted. Francie smiled uneasily. “It’s big. And cold. Who lived here before?” he went on.
“We don’t know,” said Francie. “I mean, we sort of know. It was a family called the Musgroves. But they haven’t lived here in a long time.”
“Place is clean,” said Michael. “Doesn’t look like it’s been empty.”
“The bank said there was a caretaker. Someone’s been keeping it up for them, in case they ever sold it.”
“It suits you. Couldn’t see why you ever moved to New York in the first place.”
“It was a whim,” said Francie. “It was good for a while. But I’m done with it now. I think I can be happy here. I can really . . . open up.”
“And you’re happy with Colt?”
Francie was startled. “Of course I am, honey,” she said. She reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her brother ’s ear. “Why on earth would you think I wasn’t?”
“I just wondered, that’s all,” said Michael. “He’s so . . . edgy, I guess. Really businessy. He never really has anything nice to say about anything, didja ever notice? A real negative type. Tell the truth, I didn’t see you ending up with a guy like him, either.” He lowered his voice on this last thought, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. They were—sounds of shuffling feet and grunting came from the front of the house, where Colt and the movers were struggling with a sofa. “You’re really sensitive and artistic, and he’s . . .”
“I know,” said Francie. “Businessy. But we complement each other, honey. You don’t want to marry someone who’s just like you. You want them to fill in your missing pieces. Kind of like a jigsaw puzzle.”
“I guess so,” said Michael.
88 W ILLIAM K OWALSKI
“Don’t worry about me,” said Francie. “Your big sister can take care of herself. I was wondering about you, though. Is there some thing on your mind? Something bugging you?”
“Little help!” called Colt from the living room. “Hello! Francie!
Mike!”
Michael shuddered. “I hate it when he calls me ‘Mike,’ ” he said. “Makes me feel like one of his poker buddies.”
“Mikey? Was there something?”
Michael looked at the floor, then around at the walls. Francie knew this expression all too well; whatever it was, he was afraid to tell her. She waited.
“Not now,” he muttered. “Later.”
“We’ll talk,” said Francie. “Gimme a kiss.” She pulled her brother ’s ear to bend him down to her, and they bussed lightly. Then they went back out to the front of the house.
In the living
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