do you know him from? Does he have a girlfriend? Of course he has a girlfriend."
"Laura, take a pill."
"Only if you stop being one," she snarked back. A mittened hand flew to her perfect, bow-shaped mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry! It's just… I'm a little nervous about tonight."
"Baby Jon won't bite. He doesn't have any teeth. He might puke on you, though."
"I've baby-sat before," she said happily. "It won't be the first time."
"Heck, I've been on dates that weren't so pleasant."
Chapter 21
The Ant greeted us with, "Get inside quick! There's a killer on the loose!" She grabbed me by the jacket collar—the first time she'd touched me in years—and hauled me into the foyer. Laura hurried in behind me just in time to avoid the door being slammed in her face.
"Those aren't killers," I explained, unbuttoning my coat. "They're Cub Scouts. They just want to sell you some wreaths and wrapping paper."
"Very funny, Betsy." The Ant was quite the wreath herself in a dress of poison green, which she had trimmed with a glittery red belt two inches wide, long fake red fingernails, and large red hoop earrings. Her lipstick matched her accessories, and her eyelids were as blue as the
Caribbean. Her fake eyelashes were so long I at first thought a couple centipedes had crawled up there and died.
"No, it's the Driveway Killer," she was insisting, helping Laura (Laura had that effect on people) off with her big puffy coat. "He struck again! Took one of my neighbors right out of her driveway. At first we thought she'd, you know, just left—her husband—" The Ant made the universal " drinky drinky " motion with her thumb and forefinger. "But then her body turned up in the parking lot of the
Lake Street Wal-Mart. Lake Street
! Can you imagine? How tacky!"
" Er ," was all Laura managed. The Ant could tax even her formidable powers of niceness.
"I'm sorry about your neighbor," I said, and I meant it, though the sentiment was probably wasted on the Ant, who apparently thought where your body turned up was far more important than how you lived your life.
"She was just minding her own business, coming in the house—or going, we're not sure which—and he
grabbed her
. I've been scared out of my wits ever since!"
"That's hard to imagine," I said sweetly.
"So you have to be very careful around here, girls."
I assumed she was talking to Laura.
"If something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do."
I was, against all my better instincts, touched. "Aw, Antonia. I don't know what to say."
"We'll be careful," Laura promised.
The baby monitor was on the little table for the car keys, and we could hear a thin wailing coming out from it. "Please, please be careful! Nobody else will sit with Baby Jon while he's like this."
"Jesus, Antonia. He's got colic, not rabies."
"And I'm late."
"We got here right on time, so I don't want to hear anything out of you. When did he eat last?"
"The baby nurse left all that on a note on the fridge." The Ant was putting on her black wool coat. Her hair didn't move, which was a good trick considering it was shoulder length. "The party is supposed to be over around one."
"Where is Mr. Taylor?" Laura asked.
"Oh, he's…" The Ant made a vague gesture. "Don't worry, if I have too much to drink I'll get a cab."
"Thank goodness," I said. "If you get too blitzed, just take a nap in the driveway and wait around for company."
She glared. "I suppose you think you're being funny again."
I glared. "A little funny."
Laura walked in the direction of the kitchen.
The Ant left.
I went upstairs, scooped up my squalling brother, and snuggled him to my shoulder while he gasped and decided to knock off with the crying. My finely tuned vampire senses informed me he didn't need a diaper change.
We went back downstairs and caught up with Laura, who was standing at the main
"Laura, take a pill."
"Only if you stop being one," she snarked back. A mittened hand flew to her perfect, bow-shaped mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry! It's just… I'm a little nervous about tonight."
"Baby Jon won't bite. He doesn't have any teeth. He might puke on you, though."
"I've baby-sat before," she said happily. "It won't be the first time."
"Heck, I've been on dates that weren't so pleasant."
Chapter 21
The Ant greeted us with, "Get inside quick! There's a killer on the loose!" She grabbed me by the jacket collar—the first time she'd touched me in years—and hauled me into the foyer. Laura hurried in behind me just in time to avoid the door being slammed in her face.
"Those aren't killers," I explained, unbuttoning my coat. "They're Cub Scouts. They just want to sell you some wreaths and wrapping paper."
"Very funny, Betsy." The Ant was quite the wreath herself in a dress of poison green, which she had trimmed with a glittery red belt two inches wide, long fake red fingernails, and large red hoop earrings. Her lipstick matched her accessories, and her eyelids were as blue as the
Caribbean. Her fake eyelashes were so long I at first thought a couple centipedes had crawled up there and died.
"No, it's the Driveway Killer," she was insisting, helping Laura (Laura had that effect on people) off with her big puffy coat. "He struck again! Took one of my neighbors right out of her driveway. At first we thought she'd, you know, just left—her husband—" The Ant made the universal " drinky drinky " motion with her thumb and forefinger. "But then her body turned up in the parking lot of the
Lake Street Wal-Mart. Lake Street
! Can you imagine? How tacky!"
" Er ," was all Laura managed. The Ant could tax even her formidable powers of niceness.
"I'm sorry about your neighbor," I said, and I meant it, though the sentiment was probably wasted on the Ant, who apparently thought where your body turned up was far more important than how you lived your life.
"She was just minding her own business, coming in the house—or going, we're not sure which—and he
grabbed her
. I've been scared out of my wits ever since!"
"That's hard to imagine," I said sweetly.
"So you have to be very careful around here, girls."
I assumed she was talking to Laura.
"If something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do."
I was, against all my better instincts, touched. "Aw, Antonia. I don't know what to say."
"We'll be careful," Laura promised.
The baby monitor was on the little table for the car keys, and we could hear a thin wailing coming out from it. "Please, please be careful! Nobody else will sit with Baby Jon while he's like this."
"Jesus, Antonia. He's got colic, not rabies."
"And I'm late."
"We got here right on time, so I don't want to hear anything out of you. When did he eat last?"
"The baby nurse left all that on a note on the fridge." The Ant was putting on her black wool coat. Her hair didn't move, which was a good trick considering it was shoulder length. "The party is supposed to be over around one."
"Where is Mr. Taylor?" Laura asked.
"Oh, he's…" The Ant made a vague gesture. "Don't worry, if I have too much to drink I'll get a cab."
"Thank goodness," I said. "If you get too blitzed, just take a nap in the driveway and wait around for company."
She glared. "I suppose you think you're being funny again."
I glared. "A little funny."
Laura walked in the direction of the kitchen.
The Ant left.
I went upstairs, scooped up my squalling brother, and snuggled him to my shoulder while he gasped and decided to knock off with the crying. My finely tuned vampire senses informed me he didn't need a diaper change.
We went back downstairs and caught up with Laura, who was standing at the main
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