Bewilderness by Karen Tucker

Author:Karen Tucker [Tucker, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781646220250
Google: VaUQEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1646220242
Publisher: Catapult
Published: 2021-05-31T23:00:00+00:00

Almost an hour had passed since the tow truck pulled the cheese-mobile out of our driveway. Luce was back in the BarcaLounger watching yet another Law & Order. I was stretched out on the sofa with a fresh baggie of ice balanced on my knee. The air stunk of menthol ointment and a second round of ibuprofen was making its way through my system. So far none of it had knocked the pain down any, but maybe something would kick in by the time they got to the courtroom section.

The good news was Luce hadn’t asked for her dope back. I wasn’t sure why—no way she’d forgotten I had it—but at least she wasn’t acting all fiendy. I told myself I did the right thing by not rinsing it down the disposal. That was Luce’s job. We’d talk it out and then we’d go into the kitchen together. I’d hand it over and watch as she emptied it into the drain and pushed the button. Greenie always said you couldn’t make anyone get clean unless they were willing. Until then, it waited in my chest pocket, warm and steady. There was something calming about it.

When my phone buzzed out of nowhere, I flinched, causing my ice pack to fall onto the floor next to the sofa. A call from an unfamiliar local number. Before I could answer, whoever it was hung up. Right away I knew it was Nogales, hitting me up from a buddy’s phone to trick me into answering. I turned to Luce, planning to make some crack about needy dudes, only to find the recliner was empty. She was by the door, pulling her boots on.

“Mail came,” she said. “Be back in a second.”

I looked at her. “You expecting something?”

“Been getting a few condolence cards. It’s not like I want to read them, but I also don’t want them sitting out there all by their lonesome.” She zipped up her new fur-trimmed parka and spun around like a model. “Not bad, right?”

“You look great,” I said.

On TV, Jack McCoy was heckling a witness and the Advil was doing as much good as a children’s chewable. I checked my pocket, making sure Luce hadn’t somehow lifted the bags when I wasn’t paying attention. But they were there, loyal as ever. I glanced out the window. Luce was at the mailbox, flipping through envelopes. A painful fist formed in my stomach. Some people look extra sad when they don’t know they’re being watched.

When my phone buzzed again. I expected to see the same number as before but instead it was the restaurant. Without thinking, I answered.

“Where are you?” said Marshall. “I got Fran doing your opening sidework and she isn’t too happy about it. You almost here or what?”

“I’m sick, remember? Luce called you.”

As if on cue, the front door opened and in she came. She took off her boots and went sock-wise into the bathroom.

“I haven’t talked to her in days,” Marshall said. “And hey, I know you girls are going through some stuff, but this no-show crap won’t fly.

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