Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

The door to the girls’ room swung wide.

“Get out of here,” Molly said. “This is our room.” She glared at me and I put my hands up in surrender.

“I’m just getting the laundry.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

Sighing, I sank onto Mary Grace’s bed. “Can we talk a minute? I want to apologize.”

“Well, I don’t.” She crossed her arms.

Stay calm. You’re the adult. I took a deep breath. “Molly, I know how you feel. I remember feeling the same way when I was your age. Bridget had just gotten married, and Daddy was depending on me at home. You were only ten, Mary Grace was six, and there I was, fifteen and suddenly the mother of two, running a house of my own. I wanted the same things you want now, but it was impossible. In fact, I still want them. But we have to make do with what we’re handed in life.”

“No, we don’t. That’s stupid.”

I stared at her. “What?”

“Joey says that if you want something in life, you should go after it.”

“Joey,” I said, “is the last person you should be taking advice from right now.”

“But he’s right,” Molly went on. “If people just waited around for life to happen instead of going after things, where would we be? Women wouldn’t even have the vote!”

I opened my mouth to argue, but I couldn’t. Taking a deep breath, I asked, “How late?”

“Huh?”

“Your curfew. How late do you want to stay out?”

“Oh.” She chewed one fingernail, considering. “How about eleven?”

I leveled my gaze at her. “Ten.”

“Ten thirty,” she insisted. “That’s what all my friends have. And two dollars more a week for chores. I’ll start doing the laundry, and I can help out with the cooking too.”

I’m too young for this. Closing my eyes, I nodded. “Deal.”

#

Downstairs, I made a pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table drumming my nails. Come on, Joey. Call already! But the telephone stayed silent all morning.

By early afternoon, my knees were trembling as I helped Molly hang clothes on the line outside. What if the heist had gone wrong? What if Joey was hurt…or dead? Fighting the need to weep, I began forming a plan. I’ll go to Enzo and beg for mercy. I’ll make a deal with him, work for him, give him the garage and all our business if he’ll just let Daddy go.

My thoughts were interrupted by the ring of the telephone. I raced into the house, grabbed the base and whipped the receiver to my ear. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Joey said. He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to be overheard.

“Thank God you’re OK! Did you get it?”

“We got it. We’re taking the load to Chicago.”

“Chicago! But—”

“I’m having a package delivered to you at the store. Don’t let Bridget open it, under any circumstances. And be careful.” The line went dead.

“Joey, wait!” I pressed the switch hook repeatedly, to no avail. “Shit!” I hung up the receiver and put my fingers to my head, which had begun to pound. A package—what did that mean? Had he gotten the money for me? When was it coming and who was bringing it? I groaned in frustration, but what I really wanted to do was scream. Forcing myself to stay calm for Molly’s sake, I took a few deep breaths and walked back outside. “I have to go to the store for a while,” I said. “I’ll take Mary Grace with me to play with the boys. Can you finish the laundry on your own?”

She took a clothespin from between her teeth and pinned up a pair of bloomers. “Sure. Do you think…maybe I could go to the movies tonight? Without Mary Grace?”