An Ex to Grind by Jane Heller

Author:Jane Heller [Heller, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780060899301
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2006-06-29T07:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 17

"They are yelling, aren't they?" I said as I was icing Mrs. Thornberg's arm and listening to the racket next door. We were sitting on her bed. She was stretched out like a dying person, although robust enough to wear one of her pretty dresses, and I was perched at her side, a regular Florence Nightingale. The arm wasn't the least bit swollen, and I suspected she was just looking for a little attention, but I wrapped it in a cold pack. The mere act of tending to her seemed to calm her down.

"You should have heard them an hour ago," she said. "Such lungs on those two."

"It's weird, because Dan never raised his voice with me."

"Probably because he was afraid of you."

"He was not."

"Well, then maybe he really loves this one. I think the more they care, the more they yell."

That remark really threw me until I realized she was probably just loopier than usual from all the extra-strength Tylenol I'd given her. I wanted Dan to adore Leah, don't get me wrong, but not in greater proportion to how much he'd adored me.

"She must have done something to provoke him," I said. "Maybe when you knock on their door to complain, you'll find out what."

"I'm not knocking on any doors until I eat my dinner," said Mrs. Thornberg, who had managed to get the can of sardines halfway open before succumbing to injury. As a result, her apartment now stunk of mothballs and fish oil.

"I'll bring you a sandwich and some tea," I offered.

"Good," she said. "Mash up the sardines, add a teaspoon of mustard, and a couple of squirts of lemon juice, and put it on some rye bread, with the crusts cut off."

Reminding myself not to feel put upon, since involving her in this drama had been my idea, I smiled and said, "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Make sure the tea's hot. There's nothing worse than tea that's not hot."

I could think of a lot worse things, and one of them was right next door. If Leah walked out on Dan, I was back to square one and much poorer for all my efforts.

I fed Mrs. Thornberg, watched a rerun of Law & Order with her, and, after more loud voices from her neighbors, encouraged her to go next door and see what was up.

"I'll remind them about the bylaws," she agreed. "No noise after nine P.M."

"You do that," I said, adding a "you go, girl" or some other inappropriate exhortation.

While she was gone, I pressed my ear to the wall, paced, sat on the bed, pressed my ear to the wall again, then abandoned the bedroom for the kitchen and scarfed down Mrs. Thornberg's discarded bread crusts.

Finally she returned. "So?" I said.

"Leah was crying." Oh, God. "But I told both of them in no uncertain terms that they'd better keep it down or else."

"Did it seem like she might leave?" I said, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt.

"What's it to you if she does?" She regarded me with her beady eyes.

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