Page 39 of Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin
“Do you have something for yourself while he's gone?”
The customer nodded and said, “Christmas present.” She pointed to the glass case filled with high-end dildos.
“Good to hear. Come back before your husband's next trip and you and I can pick out something else that's special.” Goldie winked as she handed over the bag with the fancy tissue sticking out the top.
The customer beamed at Goldie, handed her three twenties. “All right, I will.”
“Tell him to have a safe—and fun—trip.” Goldie handed over the change.
Jack had taken to checking out the displays of fur lined handcuffs during this exchange. The tips of his ears were red. Interesting.
“So, Jack. Into handcuffs, are you?” Goldie asked.
He put the hardware down with a clatter and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. Like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. He cleared his throat.
“I'm more interested in handcuffs than”—he pointed his finger toward the door where the woman just left—“the thing that woman got.”
Goldie nodded, tilted her head down to stare intently at Jack over her reading glasses. “A pocket pussy. It's for a guy who isall alone.” She had that furry angora sweater on again, little motes of fluff lifted off and floated in the air around her when she moved. “I heard you're leaving tonight.”
Her lack of subtlety was not lost on me and I enjoyed watching Jack squirm. He could never work in an adult store if he couldn't say the words 'pocket pussy' out loud.
“Yes, ma'am. I've got things to take care of back in Florida.”
“We sure will miss?—”
The door slammed open, cutting off Goldie's words. There, backlit by the brightness of the late afternoon sun and a half foot of snow, stood Lorraine. She hobbled in, shoving the door shut behind her, a cold breeze whooshing over us. She looked worse than I'd ever seen her.
18
The pink coat had down falling out of it in places like it had mange. Her nose was buried beneath big white bandages, and she had two black eyes giving her the appearance of a raccoon. Her hand was still wrapped in its own bandages, but a loose end hung down, all snarled and tangled. On top of that, she wore a big black medical boot on her left foot, Velcro straps securing it in place, her jeans cut up the front to part around it, toes peeking out the end. They had to be cold walking in all the new snow.
“Lorraine, what happened to you?” I asked, approaching her, concerned.
She held up a hand to stop me, her eyes wild, her breathing ragged. Jack stilled me by grabbing my wrist, pulling me back gently toward him. I felt his warm, solid chest against my back. His thumb ran idly over the back of my hand.
“You! You did this to me!”
She thunked over, hobbling like a peg-legged pirate, to point her bony finger into my chest.
“How?”
Before she could reply, her eyes darted to the counter. “Holy shit. What the hell is that thing doing here? Is this a sick joke or something?”
I turned my head and saw George staring at Lorraine, his smile now looking like a leer.
Goldie must have sensed the garden gnome's imminent danger as she grabbed it and stuck it behind the counter, out of sight. “That's my grandson's garden gnome. It can't harm anyone.”
“Oh, yeah? How do you think I got this?” Lorraine held up her bandaged hand and pointed to her nose.
Goldie stood behind the counter, slack jawed, watching. Lorraine was like a talk show come to life and it was all happening right in Goldie's store. She was in heaven. “Now that I know what happened to your nose, what happened to your hand?”
Lorraine had a cagey look on her face, her eyes darting from Goldie to me. “I...um...I burned it.”
A niggling feeling settled in my stomach.
“That is a deadly weapon,” Lorraine replied, talking about George. Not one to be steered off track, she turned back to me. “I saw you this morning with Ronald and I followed you.”
“Me? You couldn't have seen me. I was with him.” I waved my thumb over my shoulder behind me. Jack shrugged his shoulders as I turned to look at him.