ornament, but it seemed to please Gammy.
“The nurses are stealing my pillows,” Gammy announced. “They’ll pay for that.”
“I am sure they will,” Lily agreed. She was not just humoring Gammy; she was fairly certain that the nurses would end up paying one way or another.
“You look happy,” Gammy noted, not sounding particularly pleased. “What’s on your mind then? Some man, I’ll warrant.”
“Actually,” Lily said, “yes, I think I have met someone.”
Gammy’s lower lip reached almost all the way to the underside of her nose. Her scowl was so deep her eyes almost disappeared into her wrinkles. For a moment, she didn’t look human so much as irritated potato. The expression passed after a minute or two, after a deep sigh. “Just as long as he’s not Italian or a cop.”
“Yes, Gammy,” Lily said dutifully. She had no intention of telling Gammy the full scope of the situation. Her frail constitution would never stand it. Gammy was a person of the past, of an age where smugglers were rakish, handsome gentlemen who showered her with gifts of silk stockings and fine bourbon.
A picture next to her bedside table revealed her to almost be Lily’s doppelganger, a fine woman with a slim build, hair cut rebelliously short, but looking glamorous in a sequined flapper dress and low heels. A long cigarette holder was clasped between her fingers. She looked into the camera with an expression that was simultaneously playful and deadly serious. A hard look to pull off, but the cute smile was belied by the arch of the brow and the serious set of her gaze.
The rest of the visit was spent listening to Gammy talk about the old days, when Rusty One-Eye fell into the river and Jimmy Four-Toes had to jump in and save him. Lily had heard the story many times before, but she listened dutifully anyway, even though she could probably have told it herself.
“My show is coming on,” Gammy said, ending the story abruptly. That was her unsubtle cue that the visit was over for the moment. Her shows were very important and nobody, not even visiting grand-daughters, could be suffered to interrupt them.
Lily left Gammy in peace. She was wandering haphazardly through the nearby park when she found herself unexpectedly not alone.
“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Gareth’s voice purred out from behind some climbing morning glory. He stepped out, wearing a blue polo shirt and blue jeans—casual clothing that did nothing to stop him from looking like a police officer. He could have been wearing a tutu and he still would have looked like a cop.
“What are you doing here?”
He threw his arm about her shoulders and lead her down the garden path with easy charm. “Just checking in on my favorite criminal.”
Lily shot him a dour look. “What do you want?” She did not care for the way he spoke to her sometimes; there was a hardly veiled implication which strongly suggested he thought she was a member of a lower class.
“Any word on shipments?”
Lily laughed. “As if I would tell you. You’re going to have to do your own dirty work, officer. Go through the trash. See if there are any clues in the garbage.”
“You’ve got an attitude today,” he noted without any real concern. “I think someone has forgotten the situation she’s in. I think someone might need a sore bottom.”
“I think someone might need to go fuck himself,” Lily replied in the same condescending tone. “You think you flipped me because you made me a sandwich.”
“I think I flipped you because you don’t have any choice in the matter,” he said, his arm leaving her shoulders. A second later, a hard slap landed against her bottom, forceful enough to lift her onto her toes for a moment and make her squeal in shock.
“If you hit me again, I’ll have your balls—”
She didn’t get to finish the threat because Gareth had taken her by the arms and pulled her close. His mouth descended on hers in a crushing kiss which
“The nurses are stealing my pillows,” Gammy announced. “They’ll pay for that.”
“I am sure they will,” Lily agreed. She was not just humoring Gammy; she was fairly certain that the nurses would end up paying one way or another.
“You look happy,” Gammy noted, not sounding particularly pleased. “What’s on your mind then? Some man, I’ll warrant.”
“Actually,” Lily said, “yes, I think I have met someone.”
Gammy’s lower lip reached almost all the way to the underside of her nose. Her scowl was so deep her eyes almost disappeared into her wrinkles. For a moment, she didn’t look human so much as irritated potato. The expression passed after a minute or two, after a deep sigh. “Just as long as he’s not Italian or a cop.”
“Yes, Gammy,” Lily said dutifully. She had no intention of telling Gammy the full scope of the situation. Her frail constitution would never stand it. Gammy was a person of the past, of an age where smugglers were rakish, handsome gentlemen who showered her with gifts of silk stockings and fine bourbon.
A picture next to her bedside table revealed her to almost be Lily’s doppelganger, a fine woman with a slim build, hair cut rebelliously short, but looking glamorous in a sequined flapper dress and low heels. A long cigarette holder was clasped between her fingers. She looked into the camera with an expression that was simultaneously playful and deadly serious. A hard look to pull off, but the cute smile was belied by the arch of the brow and the serious set of her gaze.
The rest of the visit was spent listening to Gammy talk about the old days, when Rusty One-Eye fell into the river and Jimmy Four-Toes had to jump in and save him. Lily had heard the story many times before, but she listened dutifully anyway, even though she could probably have told it herself.
“My show is coming on,” Gammy said, ending the story abruptly. That was her unsubtle cue that the visit was over for the moment. Her shows were very important and nobody, not even visiting grand-daughters, could be suffered to interrupt them.
Lily left Gammy in peace. She was wandering haphazardly through the nearby park when she found herself unexpectedly not alone.
“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Gareth’s voice purred out from behind some climbing morning glory. He stepped out, wearing a blue polo shirt and blue jeans—casual clothing that did nothing to stop him from looking like a police officer. He could have been wearing a tutu and he still would have looked like a cop.
“What are you doing here?”
He threw his arm about her shoulders and lead her down the garden path with easy charm. “Just checking in on my favorite criminal.”
Lily shot him a dour look. “What do you want?” She did not care for the way he spoke to her sometimes; there was a hardly veiled implication which strongly suggested he thought she was a member of a lower class.
“Any word on shipments?”
Lily laughed. “As if I would tell you. You’re going to have to do your own dirty work, officer. Go through the trash. See if there are any clues in the garbage.”
“You’ve got an attitude today,” he noted without any real concern. “I think someone has forgotten the situation she’s in. I think someone might need a sore bottom.”
“I think someone might need to go fuck himself,” Lily replied in the same condescending tone. “You think you flipped me because you made me a sandwich.”
“I think I flipped you because you don’t have any choice in the matter,” he said, his arm leaving her shoulders. A second later, a hard slap landed against her bottom, forceful enough to lift her onto her toes for a moment and make her squeal in shock.
“If you hit me again, I’ll have your balls—”
She didn’t get to finish the threat because Gareth had taken her by the arms and pulled her close. His mouth descended on hers in a crushing kiss which
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