Hot Item (Hot Zone 3)

Yank abruptly turned and began waving his arms. “Hey, honey, come on over here and hand me my bag.”

The camera panned to Lola, who looked fit to be tied, as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her husband. “I will not be a party to this spectacle, Yank Morgan. And it’s not too late for you to leave now before more damage is done.”

“Poor Lola,” Sophie said.

Annabelle turned to her, her expression incredulous. “Poor Lola? Poor you!”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’ll survive. I can’t do anything now anyway. What’s done is done. Besides, the man raised all three of us. We’re used to his humiliating comments.”

And it was inadvertent. Everything Uncle Yank did, he did out of love. Unfortunately, he didn’t think before he spoke, which often landed him in the doghouse with those he cared about most.

They turned back to the screen. The camera had panned away from Lola while Yank pawed through his duffel bag, then to Sophie’s complete mortification, he pulled out a photo. Of her.

“She’s sexy, smart and single,” Uncle Yank was saying.

“He’s making me sound desperate!” Sophie’s cheeks burned with humiliation. “And I’m going to kill him.”

“I thought you said, what’s done is done,” Annabelle reminding her, trying to suppress a laugh.

“He’s done. And if he’s smart, he won’t show his face around here anytime soon.” Sophie rose and headed for the door, passing a silently sympathetic Frannie as she departed in search of a brown paper bag to put over her head.

In fact, maybe she’d wear it for the rest of her life.

AFTER HER HUMILIATION on TV, Sophie had taken a mental step back and decided to cool down before confronting her uncle. The difficult thing about getting angry at Uncle Yank was that he always had good intentions. His way of going about things was much more questionable.

She’d decided to stop at the gym for the early-evening yoga class in order to relieve stress, before heading to his apartment for a long talk. Now as she stepped off the elevator onto Yank’s floor she heard Noodle’s high-pitched bark. Apparently her uncle and Lola had already picked up the pooch from Cindy, who’d taken over doggie duty.

She rang the doorbell and immediately smacked her hands over her ears in time to block out the worst of his extraloud chimes. Uncle Yank had installed them before he’d married Lola. He hadn’t wanted to miss a visitor. After almost going deaf the first time she’d visited and heard the noise, Sophie had learned her lesson and protected her hearing.

She turned and shot a covert glance at the door across the hall, expecting his neighbor to stick her head out and complain about the racket as she always did.

“She’s off visiting her daughter,” Uncle Yank said from behind her, tapping her on the shoulder at the same time.

Sophie swirled around. She hadn’t heard him open his apartment door. “You drove her away, huh?”

He shook his head. “Don’t go giving your uncle a hard time. Give me a big hug instead.”

Despite her anger and frustration with him, Sophie loved the man and wrapped her arms around him tight. “I missed you, you old coot.” She stepped back. “But I’m still going to kill you,” she told him.

“Hey, it’s my job to see you’re taken care of.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you think prostituting me to every man with a TV set is taking care of me?”

“If you’d just settle down like your sisters, I wouldn’t have to worry about what’ll happen to you when I’m gone.”

Sophie grabbed her uncle’s weathered hand, a knifelike pain settling in her heart. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. Unless you trip over Noodle or fall off another chair,” she said, making light of the serious fact that he was getting up there in years, though still only in his late sixties.

He chuckled. “It’s something I can’t help thinkin’ about. I want to know if I kick off, I won’t have to worry about you.”

“There’s not going to be any kicking going on unless it’s me kicking some sense into your thick skull.” Lola stepped into the hall. “Apologize to Sophie right now.”

Sophie pulled the woman who’d raised her along with Uncle Yank into a hug. “You always were his conscience,” Sophie said, laughing.

“I may be blind but I’m not deaf, and I can hear you just fine. I don’t need a conscience. There’s nothing wrong with taking care of my own,” her uncle insisted.

Sophie sighed. “There’s no getting through to him.”

“Amen.” Lola shook her head. “Why don’t we take this inside?”