Moving carefully, as if her injuries still caused pain, Mandy swung her feet from the bed to the floor. “If you wanna sit somewhere, we got to blow this dump.”
When Mandy stood, she must have read the uncertainty on Elsie’s face. The girl laughed again, with a scornful sound.
“Don’t freak out. I’m not running off. Remember? Got no place to go.”
She shuffled over to the corner and slid her stocking feet into flip-flops.
Elsie moved away from the metal radiator and rubbed her rear end in an attempt to get the blood flowing. “Where do you want to go?”
Mandy didn’t meet Elsie’s eye. As she headed out the door, she said: “For a drive.”
Elsie followed her down the walnut stairway. Pausing in the lobby, Elsie considered whether she should duck into the back room and let June know what they were doing. But Mandy was swiftly making a beeline for the door, her flip-flops slapping across the porcelain tile of the lobby floor.
Elsie scurried to catch up. June was probably asleep, anyway. No need to disturb her.
Out in the weak November sun, Mandy hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She wore a pink cotton sweatshirt with matching sweatpants.
“Are you going to be warm enough?” Elsie asked in a doubtful voice.
“I will be as soon as you get me in your car.”
Elsie clicked the locks on her Ford Escort and they slid inside. After she started the car, she turned up the heat. Mandy twisted around in the passenger seat, studying her.
Elsie said, “Buckle up, Mandy.”
Mandy ignored the suggestion. “Didn’t you tell me you’re a lawyer?”
“Yeah. Sure am.” She aimed the temperature control vents in Mandy’s direction.
Mandy looked around the vehicle with contempt she didn’t try to disguise. “So if you’re a lawyer, how come you don’t have a better ride?”
Elsie gave her a grudging smile. The Ford Escort—a law school graduation gift from her parents—was far from new and had no flash whatsoever. Her father, when he handed her the keys, had proudly claimed it would be “reliable transportation.” It was dependable as Old Faithful, but she dreamed of a day when she could finally afford an upgrade.
“County prosecutors don’t make big money. Take my word for that.” She put the car in Drive and pulled away from the curb. “So where you want to go?”
“Let’s get a smoke and a drink.”
Elsie shook her head in wonder; the girl had some nerve. “I’ll get you a soda at the convenience store.”
“And a pint of something.”
Well, Elsie thought, Mandy was certainly persistent. “And a pint of nothing,” Elsie said.
“Then you’ll get nothing out of me.”
The one block drive was quick; Elsie pulled into the Jiffy Go market. Two gas pumps sat in the lot. They bore a large sign, printed in marker. Pay inside b4 U Pump!
Elsie pulled up beside the door. “You want to come inside? Introduce me to your buddy at the cash register?”
Mandy gave her a sulky look. “Just get me a Cherry Coke. And some Parliaments.”
Elsie pocketed her keys and grabbed her purse. As she walked into the store, she did a mental checklist; was there anything in the car the girl might steal? Probably not. Elsie wasn’t reckless enough to leave valuables in a car that sat in the courthouse parking lot all day and an open lot at her apartment at night. Maybe some change in the dash, but that would be slim pickins.
A buzzer sounded as she walked through the door, and the clerk did a swift turn at the counter, to check Elsie out. The clerk was a woman with a long ponytail. Elsie felt a twinge of disappointment. She had hoped to encounter the guy who’d bartered Old Charter for Mandy’s sexual favors.
“Afternoon,” the woman said. “Can I help you find anything?”
Elsie waved a hand. “I’m good, thanks.” She opened the refrigerator case and pulled out two cold plastic bottles: a Cherry Coke and a Diet Coke.
At the counter, she fished three dollar bills.
“Anything else today?” The clerk smiled broadly. She was missing a canine tooth and a molar. Something about the woman was vaguely familiar. Elsie glanced at her nametag: Misty.
“Misty, are you from here? Did we go to school together?”
“Naw. I’m from Douglas County. Moved here five years ago with my boyfriend. My ex,” she said, putting emphasis on the ex factor.
Elsie nodded. Maybe she knew her from a jury. Or the courthouse.
“I’ve seen you over to the Baldknobbers a time or two.” The gap-toothed smile flashed again. “You sure know how to party, girl.”
Elsie’s face grew hot; though she knew that at the ripe old age of thirty-two, she should be past blushing over her misadventures.
“Yeah, probably back in the day. I’m not spending so much time there these days.”
“I seen you there a couple of weeks ago. You was drinking beer like it was going out of style.”
Her face was flaming; she could feel it. In an offhand voice, Elsie said, “Probably wasn’t me.”
“It was you. I seen you. You was hanging with some cops.”
Well, that ended the debate. Elsie loved her hometown; but living in a goldfish bowl had its challenges.
Misty pointed at the three wrinkled dollar bills that lay on the glass countertop, above a display of Missouri lottery tickets.
“Those pops costs three twenty-nine.”
“Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” With a tight smile, Elsie shoved the bills in her purse and pulled out her debit card.
“You want anything else today?”
Elsie had the card poised to slide through the machine, but her hand stilled. She looked out the glass storefront, to where Mandy sat in her car. Through the windshield, she could see the purple bruise around her eye.
“I’ll take a pack of Parliaments. And a Bic lighter.” She plucked a pink lighter from a dispenser by the checkout. To the guilty voice whispering in her head, she said: She claims to be eighteen. It’s legal.
Misty turned around to get the cigarettes. She placed them on the counter and rang up the purchase.
“Nine dollars and sixty-two cents.”
Elsie swiped the card and punched in her PIN. Holding her breath, she waited, thinking: Come on come on.
When the word Approved appeared on the small screen, she exhaled in relief. Misty handed her a bag.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
Elsie blinked, uncomfortable with the level of interest the woman exhibited. Then she shrugged, thinking: Get over yourself, Elsie. Before she walked out, she flashed a parting smile at the clerk and said, “Girl, you just never know what I might do.”
Walking out, Elsie muttered, “And that’s the damn truth.”