Crazy People: The Crazy for You Stories Read online

  “Nick?”

  Max’s voice was still a little worried, so Nick said, “You don’t suppose Barbara has two cars, do you? You could be spending some significant time with her.”

  “Funny,” Max said, but he went back work and let Nick concentrate on the Chevy which was what he wanted. Because there was nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing.

  * * *

  “Absolutely no dogs,” Lois said, and Quinn tried to look sympathetic. At four-thirty most of the turquoise booths in Lois’s were empty, and all of the tables were unoccupied, so if she looked understanding, maybe Lois would bend a rule here. Not that Lois was much for bending rules. Still, maybe if she talked fast …

  “I know and normally I wouldn’t dream of bringing her in here, but its cold outside, and she’s freezing, and she doesn’t have a home.” Quinn tried to look as pathetic as possible since as far as she could tell, Katie had had only one definable expression, anxious, and that wasn’t endearing. “So I can’t let her out in a cold car—”

  “No.” Lois folded her arms across her turquoise polyester uniform, pulling the fabric down across her breasts, making the white hankie in her breast pocket lie flat as a napkin. “The health department would close me down in a second. Maybe you could take it home …” Her voice slowed as Katie peered at her from Quinn’s arms, all dark worried eyes in her quivering little head.

  Yeah, say no to that face, Quinn thought, and Lois said, “No” again.

  It was no wonder Matthew had left her, with that kind of unsympathetic nature.

  “All right, just let me tell Darla and Steph I can’t stay,” Quinn said, and turned to find Darla on the other side of the room, lounging in a booth all by herself. Quinn shook her head at her and called, “I’ll phone you later,” and Darla stood and stomped across the almost empty restaurant, her round, good-natured face puckered in exasperation, her equally round body moving toward them like a shapely but solid tank.

  “Not later,” she said when she reached them. “I have stuff to say now. What—Oh.” She frowned down at Katie in the front of Quinn’s coat. “Another one, huh?”

  “She was so cold,” Quinn said. “But Lois says she can’t stay, so we’re going back to the apartment.”

  “We could do pizza there,” Darla said, her forehead puckered with thought, as she ignored Lois. “Only Bill’s probably home by now, and I have wonderful gossip. Max has another two hours at the station at least. Let’s go to my place. I’ll get my coat, and Lois can tell Steph to come on over when she gets here.”

  “She’s late, too?” Quinn said at the same time Lois said, “Wait a minute.”

  They both turned to look at Lois who was pursing her red-orange lips into a pout. Matching your lipstick to your hair is not a good idea, Quinn wanted to tell her, especially when nobody believes your hair anyway. Especially when you hang out in turquoise. But that would be tactless and non-productive, not to mention none of her business, so Quinn kept her mouth shut.

  “That lipstick is not good for you,” Darla said. “Go more muted. Same thing with your hair. Sherry loses her grip when she does auburn.”

  “Thank you,” Lois snapped. “I’ll tell Stephanie you were here.”

  “And that we went to Darla’s, please,” Quinn said. “And we’re not waiting because we’re starving.”

  “Really starving,” Darla said. “Imagine the money we’d have spent.”

  Lois let her breath out, probably calculating how much money they’d spend and multiplying it by how much gossip she could overhear. “Oh, all right. Make sure nobody sees the dog. And if the health inspector comes in, one of you has to pretend to be blind.”

  “Thank you, Lois,” Quinn said. “We’ll have dessert, too.”

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Darla said when they were back in the booth with Katie between them, chewing on a rye roll. She’d shown an interest in jumping for the floor before Quinn had given her the bread, and now she stood, pressed against Quinn’s side, her eyes on Darla and her teeth in the roll. “This is excellent news,” Darla went on. “The Bank Slut dumped Matthew.”

  Quinn winced and tightened her hold on Katie. “Don’t call Barbara that. It’s ugly.”

  Darla grinned as she buttered a roll. “I think it’s funny. And Lois is the one who calls her that, so go yell at her, although God knows she’s got reason. Barbara snagged her husband after all.”

  “I don’t think you can snag people.” Quinn let go of Katie who settled down beside her, evidently reassured that Darla was not going to do anything anti-dog. “Not if they don’t want to be snagged. I think you can only snag the ones who want to escape anyway.”

  “So you’re saying Matthew was ripe?” Darla chewed her roll as she considered the possibility. “I never saw it. He didn’t seem like he was straining at the leash. And Lois is a damn good cook.” She shoved the basket toward Quinn. “I mean, what was she doing wrong?”

  Quinn thought about Bill. “I don’t think there has to be something wrong. I think there has to be something right. And maybe Matthew thought he had it with Barbara and didn’t have it with Lois.”

  “So it was okay for him to cheat on her?” Darla shook her head. “No way.”

  “No,” Quinn said. “It’s never all right to cheat. But it should be all right to leave. If things aren’t right. Even if the other person is a good guy, even if everything seems good, if it doesn’t feel right, it should be all right to leave.”

  Darla leaned back in the booth. “Are we still talking about Matthew and Lois?”

  “Here, baby.” Quinn held out another roll to Katie. The dog took it gently and curled up on the booth seat to gnaw at it, her frantic hunger evidently gone with all her suspicions about her present company. “Isn’t she the sweetest?”

  “They’re all the sweetest,” Darla said. “That’s why you keep picking them up, even when they look like something out of Stephen King. Stop ducking the question. What’s with you and Bill? Still having that hearty All-American sex?”

  “I wish I’d never told you that.” Quinn thought about the hearty All-American sex. “Yes.”

  “And he’s still filling your car every Saturday morning cause he does it when I’m at the station.” Darla poked around in the roll basket. “I want a cloverleaf roll. You didn’t feed that dog the last cloverleaf, did you?”

  “Rye,” Quinn said and then Stephanie slid into the end of the booth and said, “You will never guess the amazing thing that just happened.”

  “You made the cheerleading team,” Darla said. “We knew you couldn’t miss. Where have you been?”

  “Stop it.” Steph beamed at both of them, slender and excited, all bright brown eyes and bouncing dark curls, looking exactly the same as when she’d made the junior high cheerleading squad, the senior high cheerleading squad, national honor society, and student council, not to mention the way she’d looked announcing all four of her marriages and her pregnancy. Steph’s life was made of moments, and she was evidently having one while they sat there.

  Quinn obliged as straight man for her. “What happened?”

  Steph settled into her seat and prepared to give up the good stuff: “Genevieve Bachman slapped Corey Possert right across the chops at the end of sixth period.”

  Oh, no. Quinn scrambled through her thoughts to find a way to make this not bad news, a way that Genevieve would be all right, not fired, not forced to apologize to that worthless Corey which would be worse than being fired, if anything was worse than being fired for somebody who’d given her whole life to teaching—

  “You’re kidding,” Lois said, and all three of them jerked around to stare at her. “Sorry, I just got here. You ready to order?”

  “Cheese and spinach quesadillas, please.” Quinn said, ordering what she always did, obsessing on Genevieve. “Sour cream on the side. Steph, are you sure?”

  “Mushroom burger,” Steph said. “Lots of fries, please. Double order. I’m positive. She told me herself.