Chapter 59

“Degenerate bastards,” Margot screams. “Is nothing sacred anymore?” She thinks the whole universe needs a good spanking. “What’s the world coming to? It’s like stealing a farmer’s corn, for God’s sake.”

Max wants to scout the neighborhood, looking for kids riding erratically. Otis thinks Riley should call the cops.

“You’ve got the brain of a flea, Otis,” Margot says. Margot goes downstairs and lambasts some guy who just came out of the closet. “So you’re out,” she says to him. “Whatdya want? A float?”

Ruby’s not too bothered about the grass. She’s more worried about getting our latest house painted. As soon as she’s finished her coffee, we head out. She has to pick up some paint, so Muller and I go straight to the house. Along the way, Muller starts whining about stealing the grass. “Cut the crap,” I say.

“I still feel lousy, Sam.”

“Look, you make a bunch of great food. Add some pitchers of margaritas, salt the rims, everybody’s happy.”

“I guess so.”

“Let’s give the car another wash on the way home.”

“Why?”

“Because, it still smells like a bloody grow-op. Mary’s not an idiot. She already suspects something. Let’s just hope Riley doesn’t go blabbing about those stupid pot plants.”

“Maybe you should just tell Mary.”

“Tell her what? That we’ve been getting stoned all this time?”

“Judy’s done pot before.”

“Well, Mary hasn’t. Latin dancing’s bad enough. I don’t want her any more stimulated. She’s been eyeing me like I’m a squeeze toy.”

“Judy’s been wonderful lately.”

“Glad to hear you’re back on good terms.”

“I mean wonderful in bed.”

“Shut up!”

We give the garage over on Cedar another coat of paint. Then we stop at the car wash on the way home, wash out the trunk and the mats. Muller starts telling me his plans for a themed catering business. “You choose your country,” he says. “Everything’s authentic. Fixed pricing, too.”

Mary and Judy are meditating in the sunroom when we get home. Spaghetti sauce bubbles on the stove. Muller lifts the lid, takes a long sniff, and adds some pepper. We eat dinner and watch the news.

Before going to bed, I check the sliding doors in the kitchen. Riley’s standing there in his shorts and flip-flops. “What’s up?” I say to him.

“Here,” he says, handing me a baggie. “I remembered I had some drying in the cabana. Tell Muller to work his magic.” He disappears around the side of the house.

“Who was that?” Mary asks when I come in the bedroom.

“Riley. He dropped off some ingredients for the party.”

“What ingredients?”

“Oregano and tarragon.”

“He’s bringing over spices at midnight?”

“I’ve decided to stop judging people, Mary.”

“When did this start?”

“When I realized life’s a carnival and I’m a piñata.”

“Carnaval. Why don’t you take Spanish lessons with us?”

“Two Spanish speaking people in this house are plenty.”

“Un español llamado.” Mary’s hand snakes across under the covers. “Sam, you’re enormous.”

I realize the baggie’s stuffed down my underwear. “I have to pee.”

“Hurry back.”

I run to the washroom and put the baggie behind the toilet. Be prepared for major shrinkage, Mary.