Broke: (12 page)

A cold breath hit the
nape
of her neck. She turned, expecting Drew to be there. Except Drew's breath wouldn't be cool, would it?

No one was there.

After some more hammering, a
nother three post
s
fell into the yard. That coldness hit her neck again, this time
tracing an icy finger
the length of her spine
. And this time Drew was standing in the front doorway, Marshmallow close behind her.

Immy turned to her task and whacked a post. The top railing creaked. She whacked the post again. This time the handrail slowly lowered itself, sagging in the middle. Immy saw, too late, what she'd done. She'd taken all the support away. The lovely, thick handrail groaned and dipped, then cracked in half.

The glass of ice tea
tipped and
flew across the porch, spewing ice cubes and
liquid
. It hit the wall and broke. Drew was staring where the glass had been. Was the air a little fuzzy right there?

"That was Mommy's tea," said Drew. After a pause she added, "Mommy didn't mean to."

Immy
couldn't deal with any more of this. She
went inside
and called
Marshmallow
after her to measure him
for his costume.

Chapter T
hirteen

During lunch on Thursday, Immy r
ushed to the costume store with
Marshmallow's measurements
in her head
. Lacking a tape measure, she'd reached her arms around him
to gauge his girth
.
She was able to overlap her right hand to her left wrist
in the kitchen
, so
now she
encircled the costumes
with her arms
, but the Halloween offerings were all too small in the waist.

The sound of smacking gum told her the clerk was behind her. "Can I help you?"

"I need a costume with this size waist." Immy grasped her wrists and held her arms out in a large circle."

"That's pretty big," the young woman said. She shook her head, swinging her huge hoop earrings against her ample neck. "You're in the regular sizes. That looks like about XXXXL to me.
At least sixty inches.
"

"Oh, I forgot," said Immy. "You have fat clothes, too, don't you?"

"Over there." She waved her hand
and snapped her gum again.

It took no time to settle on the fat chef costume, which wasn't even too expensive.

"Don't you want the fat body suit to go under it?" asked the clerk, eyeing Immy's slim frame.

"No, it's not for me. It's for my pig."

"Your pig." The clerk rang the purchase up without another word.
She pursed her lips disapprovingly--or maybe doubtfully--but at least quit smacking her gum.

"We want Marshmallow to be the Cutest Pig."

"You're dressing up a marshmallow?"

Immy opened her mouth to explain further, but
the clerk
held up a hand. "I don't think I wanna know."

After work, Immy hurried home
. She couldn't wait
to see what Marshmallow would look like as a chef.
First, s
he had to get Drew from Saltlick, where Mother was keeping her after school. Then she sped up the highway, to Wymee Falls. On the way, she let Drew open the costume package.

"
Y
ou think Marshmallow should be a cook
er
?" Drew sounded dubious.

"He'
ll
be cute in the little chef hat, don't you think?"

Drew frowned. "He should be a cow."

Immy wondered if this was prompted by the fact that they were driving past a herd of longhorns, grazing not far from the road.

"What kind of cow?" asked Immy.

"That kind."

In the rearview mirror, she saw
Drew point to the cattle in the field.
"Thought so." But maybe
a cow
was a good idea. Immy tried to envision how they would attach a set of horns
to the pig's head.

She was still
pondering
this when she parked in front of her new house. She was so engross
ed
in her thoughts that she
had
helped Drew out and headed toward the front porch before she noticed Vance Valentin
st
anding
at the
top of the steps
.

"Oh, hi, Vance." Immy wondered how she looked after a hard day at the office, then driving around
with the windows open,
picking up Drew. She resisted the urge to fluff her hair.

"Immy, you're here." He looked guilty, like he'd been caught at something.

"Yes, I live here. You're here too." Maybe she could invite him in and get to know him better. Every time she saw him she couldn't help pictur
ing
him naked. "Would you like to come in?"

He didn't seem to have noticed the cracked banister. His back was to it and, if she had her way, it would stay like that.

He slipped something into his pocket. "Are you having trouble with
your
locks?"

"Nope." Immy got out her new key and unlocked the door.
"See?
W
orks fine."

Drew ran into the house and called for Marshmallow.

"That's funny," Vance said. "Mine didn't."

He'd been putting a key into his pocket
.
Immy had seen
a flash of metal
and the blue plastic tag
.
Which meant h
e'd been trying to get into the house again when she wasn't there. What was with this guy?

A
flame
of
irritation
kindled inside Immy.

"You know, on second thought," she said, "this isn't a good time."

"I can come in for a few minutes."

"Were you
trying to get
into
my place
just now?" Her voice was shaking with suppressed anger. "When we're not here?" The nerve!

"No, no, I was...trying out this key. Jersey...wondered if it was the right one."

She'd be damned if she'd tell him she'd had the locks changed. "Well, bye, Vance. See you later."

"Mommy, Mommy," shrieked Drew from inside the house.

Immy ran inside, picturing Drew lying bloody and injured.
The
Great Hall
was empty
. She heard
a
n oink from the library and rushed across to the doorway. Drew and Marshmallow stood
beside
the remains of the oriental rug that had been in the center of the room.

"Look what Marshmallow did," said Drew, ratting ou
t
her pig.

Immy went into the room and lifted some
tattered remains
. It was totally destroyed.
The rug had been faded and threadbare, so Immy didn't count it much of a loss. "That's
okay
, sugar. He must have been want
ing
to root.
Why don't you let him out back where he can...run around." She didn't want Vance to know how big the hole was that the pig was making
in case he could hear them.

"Ooooh
.
"

Immy whipped around to see what made the noise behind her
. It was
n't a ghost. It was
Vance.

"O
oo
h my god." He stood
just inside the room
and repeated th
e phrase
several times
, clutching his head between his shaking hands
.

"What's the matter?" said Immy. "
Have
you hurt your
head
?"

"The rug. The rug." He pointed
an unsteady finger
at the pile of
shredded
carpeting.

"It's
okay
. It was old."

Vance
exhaled
audibly and grabbed the doorframe. "It's ruined."

"Probably. We don't really need a rug in here. You don't have to replace it if you don't want to."

"Replace it? You can't replace it. That was a priceless
ss
.... Oh my god."

"Vance, nobody wants the stuff in this house. If Geoff wanted it, he would have taken it. Really, he won't care."

"Geoff?"
Vance looked dazed.

"
You know? Geoff
?
The owner of the house
.
"

"Oh,
that
Geoff."

Immy turned her head
to the side
so she could roll her eyes. "You know a lot of Geoffs?"

Vance
stayed
rooted to the spot, staring at the mess.

"You'd better go now. We have to work on a pig costume."

Vance left wordlessly
, shoulders slumped and
feet dragging
.

What a lot of fuss over an old rug, thought Immy.
She was glad she'd had the locks changed. That would keep Vance out when she wasn't here.
Although s
he didn't want to keep him out completely. She still had plans to get him upstairs, into one of the bedrooms. But he'd have to stop overreacting to things.

After she fed the pig and made dinner for her and Drew--hot dogs and beans--Immy spread some sheets of
Drew's lined school
paper on the kitchen table and they started designing a cow costume for Marshmallow. Drew had tried the chef jacket on him while Immy boiled their meal, but neither of them liked the way it looked. It was all right, but it wouldn't win the Cutest Pig prize.

When someone knocked on the front door,
her first happy thought was--Ralph!
He'd said he would try to stop by tonight.
But the knock wasn't Ralph's familiar rhythm.
Her next thought, a relieved one, was that s
he wasn't looking forward to h
im noticing the broken railing.

She opened the door
to
let Geoff in.
He didn't mention the railing.
Maybe he hadn't noticed
it
. It was almost full dark outside.

"I'm coming by because Jersey said I should.
Something about checking out the house or the yard."
The light from the chandelier bounced off his bald head.

Immy glanced behind her. The door to the library was open, but she couldn't see the rug mess from here. Maybe she could keep him at the front door.

"Frankly," he continued. "I want you to know that I'm pretty loose about this shit."

Now Immy looked around for Drew
, who
didn't need to hear that language. A giggle came from the kitchen, so she was probably still drawing crude pictures of pigs
with longhorns sprouting from their heads
.

"That's nice. You're loose about
this
what?"

"About the house. I need to keep track of what's going on, and I'll need access occasionally, but if there's a hole in the backyard, I'm not too concerned."

Maybe Geoff hadn't been told about the rug yet. It could be that Vance was sitting in his car somewhere
,
hyperventilating.

"How about the furnishings?"
Immy said.

"What do you mean?
What furnishings?
"

"Well...we've taken a few
old
things up to the top floor to make room for our things. Is that okay?"

He put on a stern face
.
"I
f
you
're
moving things
,
I'll have to do some inspecting
,
to make sure there's no damage."

"You can go on up and look at what we've moved." Maybe, if he went upstairs, he wouldn't
glance into the library. The lights were out in that room, but Immy wished the door were shut.

Geoff tromped up the stairs, then she heard him going
down the hallway and
up the next flight. She scooted to the library and closed the door. Now she'd
probably
have to
shop
around
second-hand stores
for an old, dusty rug to replace the ripped up one.

Within five minutes, a loud crash came from overhead. Immy
ran
up the stairs,
hearing
Geoff
pounding down the hallway
. His eyes were wild and his
pudgy
face was pale.
He pushed her aside
and continued down
the stairs
.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Immy said,
catching her balance on the top stair,
then realized
what she'd said
. "Did you see your aunt, Mrs. Tompkins?"

Geoff halted
half way to the bottom
. "What did you say? My aunt is dead and gone. Good riddance."

"But she gave you this house, didn't she?"

"She sure did.
She gave me
this dump
.
"

"What was that noise upstairs?"

His eyes grew wide again. "There
's
something up there
," he
rasped, his voice a hoarse
whisper
.
"
An old dresser fell over, missed me
by an inch
."