Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

“What’s with the shifty eyes? Are there cops sniffing around?”

“No.” She chewed her lip as she straightened boxes of chewing gum and penny candy on the counter.

“Then what?”

She faced me. “Where’s Daddy? Has he even called?”

My stomach dropped. “Yeah, last night. He got some work down in Ohio, fixing up cars. I told him he might as well stay and make the money. The girls and I are fine.”

“Joey spent the night at the house, I hear.”

“Yeah. He hurt his head on his car door and thought I’d play nurse for him. I didn’t think he should drive home with the injury. He was feeling dizzy.” Lies were rolling from my tongue like Model T’s off the line.

“I saw his head. Looks like it hurts.” She picked up a dust cloth and began wiping down the wood, eyebrows lifted.

“What, Bridget?”

“Well, one day you can’t stand him, a few days later he’s sleeping at your house with Daddy out of town. If the neighbors saw…”

I rolled my eyes. “Who the hell cares about the neighbors? We’re friends.”

“Last week he was a pain in the ass, now he’s your friend.” She looked up at me out of the corner of one eye. “He’s not the boy you told me about kissing, is he?”

“No!” I shouted. But my cheeks burned as I recalled kissing him on the boat. “He’s Joey, for cryin’ out loud!”

She put her palms up toward me. “OK, OK. If you say so. It’s just that I’ve noticed a difference in him when he talks about you, that’s all.”

“Well, you can forget it. He annoys me just as much as he always has, maybe more. Now if you’re done with the inquisition into my virtue, which I assure you is still intact, I’m going to box up a few groceries for home and run some errands.”

She set the cloth aside and grabbed a box for me, but I felt her watchful eye while I chose some things to bring home. Please, God, let this be over soon, I prayed. The longer Daddy was gone, the harder it was for me to keep the truth from my sisters.

And what the hell did she mean about noticing a difference in the way Joey talks about me?

#

After dropping the food off at home, I went to the bakery to see Evelyn. I felt awful about leaving her behind last night and wanted to make it up to her. She took a break and sat with me at a small wrought iron café table on the sidewalk in front, bringing me a cinnamon bun and cup of coffee. For once the temperature wasn’t so high, and the humidity was down. Sitting out in the sunshine actually felt good. “Thanks. This looks delicious.”

“It is,” she assured me.

I dug in, polishing off the entire bun in a few minutes. “So,” I said, licking the icing from my fingers, “how would you like to go to Club 23 tonight?” I figured I’d have a better chance of staying out

of trouble with Enzo if she was there.

Her face lit up. “Really? I’d love to!”

“Great. Hey, do you want to come over for supper too?”

She looked dubious. “What are you making?”

“Joey’s making spaghetti. He’s giving Molly a cooking lesson, supposedly.”

“Joey cooks?”

“His mother runs a restaurant, so maybe she taught him.” I dotted my finger in the crumbs on my plate and brought them to my mouth. “Hey Evvy, you don’t know anyone that needs any whisky, do you? I’m sitting on forty bottles I need to get rid of.”

“Hmmmm.” She thought for a moment, chewing on her full bottom lip. “You know, the Andersons just picked up a huge order here for their daughter’s wedding. Maybe they need some.”

“Would you…would you mind giving me their phone number or address so I can contact them?” I hated asking her, but I was desperate.