Chance of a Lifetime (Chances Are #1)

  I wait around by the counter for a few minutes until the surly waitress hands me a sack with three foam boxes in it. I use up the rest of the Worm's money with this purchase. At least it went for a good cause.

  I'm almost back to Grace's when a pair of headlights snap on. They hit me in the face just like the light in the interrogation room. I put a hand up to shield my eyes, though I already know who's there. I should have realized Jake wouldn't let this go so easily.

  I make sure to grip the bag tighter before he approaches. It comes as no surprise when he pushes me into an alley, against a wall. "Why does everyone keep doing that?" I shout at him. "I'm not a fucking rag doll."

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jake hisses. "Why did you tell Maddy you're dead?"

  "Because it's true. Steve Fischer is dead. You heard Dr. Palmer. Twenty years at a minimum. You don't think Maddy's going to figure it out by then?" Then again since I'd already gone twelve years without a word to her, maybe another twenty could have gone by.

  "You should have let me tell her when the time was right."

  "When would that be? Six months? A year? It was going to happen eventually. Might as well happen now."

  Jake sighs and lets me go. "You're still such a pigheaded son of a bitch," he says. He reaches into his jacket for a cigarette.

  That's when Maddy chooses to walk by. Before I can tell her to stop, she throws herself at Jake. "Get away from her, you creep!" she screams.

  She punches at Jake for a few seconds before he says, "Maddy, stop it. It's me! It's Mr. Madigan."

  That only adds to Maddy's fury. "You son of a bitch! Why didn't you tell me Daddy was dead?"

  I let our breakfast drop so I can grab Maddy around the shoulders and haul her back against the wall. I'm careful not to run her into it as hard as everyone has done to me. She still tries to claw at Jake for a few seconds before she goes limp. I finally get my wish when she puts her head on my shoulder.

  "I'm sorry, Maddy. Your father's body hasn't turned up yet. I didn't want to tell you or your mom until it did, when we'd know for sure," Jake says.

  "I have a right to know what's going on. He's my dad."

  "I know that. I just didn't want to worry you guys until I was positive."

  Maddy sniffles a few times. It seems the crying jag is over, at least for now. She pulls her head up, a black mascara stain left on my shirt-Grace's shirt. She wipes ineffectually at her eyes for a moment. "Well now I know. And I'm going to tell Mom."

  Jake looks ready to say something, but just sighs again. "I'll drive-"

  "The hell you will. I'll take the train," Maddy says. She points a finger at him. "Stay the hell away from me. Me and Mom, got it?"

  I try to intervene. "Maddy-"

  "That goes for you too. Everyone leave me the fuck alone."

  Between Jake and I we could overpower her, wrestle her into the car. Maybe we could drive her over to Lennox's headquarters and have a chat with Dr. Palmer. But even if she did believe our crazy story, what then? She'd still be angry at me for lying to her. She'd probably hate me all over again. Even if she did get over that, what kind of relationship could we have?

  It's better like this, I tell myself. I let Maddy go. Jake must sense my line of thought; he doesn't do anything to stop her as she stomps away. He catches me before I can collapse to the ground. Now it's me who needs his shoulder to cry on.

  "I've made such a mess of things," I say into his shoulder.

  "I know," he says and pats my back. "We'll get it all straightened out. Somehow."

  I don't say anything. I'm not nearly so optimistic about that. We'd need a miracle to get things back to the way they used to be. I haven't believed in miracles for a long time.

  Chapter 31

  After I've cried myself out, Jake lets me go. Despite what Maddy said, he's going to swing by Debbie's condo to make sure neither of them does anything crazy. "Then I guess I'll have to break the news to Tess."

  "I'm sorry."

  "So am I. It might help if you were there-"

  "I don't think so. Not for a little while."

  "Steve-"

  "Don't call me that. It's Stacey now. It always will be." I seize the bag from the ground. I stomp off in the opposite direction as Maddy went, back to Grace's. Jake doesn't try to stop me this time.

  Maddy unlocked the front door on her way out, which makes it easier for me to get the eggs upstairs. I find Grace on the couch, head in her hands while she stares at the floor. She doesn't even look up when I come in.

  I leave breakfast on the table and then sit down next to Grace. I put an arm around her shoulders. Usually I've been the one who's needed comfort over the past few days, so it feels a little odd to be on the opposite end. "Maddy'll come back," I say.

  "I know," Grace says.

  I'm not sure what to say next. Being a woman, Grace probably wants to talk about her feelings, which will end up with a lot of tears. I wish Tess were here; she would be able to handle this a lot better than me. After Jenny died, I comforted Jake with a trip to Squiggy's and made sure he didn't drown in his own vomit after he passed out.

  Unable to think of anything to say, I sit in silence with her for a few moments. Then I say, "I bought some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

  "No."

  "How about some coffee?" Grace only shrugs. I sigh and say, "There has to be something I can do."

  She takes my hand that's around her shoulders and gives it a squeeze. "Just sit here," she says.

  "OK." I try not to flinch when Grace leans over and rests her head on my chest. I remember Debbie snuggled up against me on the couch or in bed when we were still newlyweds. After Maddy was born and the wheels started to come off our marriage, she didn't bother to cuddle anymore. I didn't realize until now how much I've missed it.

  We sit there for a couple of hours; I stroke her hair and she uses my breast as a pillow. From her soft breathing I figure she must have nodded off by now. As much as I enjoy the intimacy, my arm is asleep and my bladder starts to nag at me.

  Right on cue, Grace whispers, "I should go down and open the store."

  "You don't have to. I can handle it."

  She sits up, turns to me, and smiles. "I suppose I have taught you everything I know. Use it well, grasshopper."

  "I'll try." I slide off the couch and then go to use the bathroom and shake some life back into my arm. When I finish, Grace lies on the couch and clutches a throw pillow to her chest as if it were Maddy. I don't say anything; I just take a box of omelet and head downstairs.

  ***

  There's not much to do in the shop except worry about my daughter and my friend/employer. I can see now why Grace usually has a book with her and wants to get out of this business as soon as possible. For the first two hours I pick at my cold omelet; I eat about half before I toss the rest of it out.

  When two customers do come in, I try to stay out of their way. I wait until they've gotten a good look at everything before I ask, "Can I help you find anything?" They buy a couple of T-shirts and then leave.

  By two o'clock I'm hungry enough that the cold, discarded omelet starts to sound good. I could always call for some takeout, but I don't have any of my own money. I don't want to take anything from the register, not on what's essentially my second day.

  I'm still dithering about this when Grace comes downstairs. Her face looks pale and haggard and her eyes are still a bit red, but she smiles at me. "How are things down here?"

  "About the same as always."

  "That bad, huh?" We both laugh at this. Then she pats my shoulder. "Why don't you go get us some lunch? I can cover for a few minutes."

  "If you're sure-"

  "I'm sure." She pats her flat stomach. "Some stir-fry would really hit the spot right about now."

  "Any place in particular?"

  She gives me the address for a Chinese place down the street a
nd twenty bucks for both of our orders. She probably could have called, but maybe she wants to get me out of the shop for a little while. Just as well for me; the fresh air-as fresh as it gets around here-feels good after a morning in Grace's stuffy shop.

  I order vegetable stir-fry for both of us, after I decide it would be best not to use Grace's money on meat products. While I wait for the order, I see a payphone against the wall. I don't know Debbie's number, but I'm sure I could get it from information. Even if I do, what would I say? Maddy doesn't want to talk to me and Debbie doesn't know me.

  I decide to call Tess instead. She's probably been worried about me and Jake might have passed along something about Maddy. Tess picks up on the second ring and before I can say anything, she says, "Stacey! I've been worried sick."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Jake said you spent the night with your new friends."

  "Yes," I say and wonder what else Jake has told her.

  "I hope you're not reverting to your old ways."

  Apparently Jake hasn't mentioned I spent most of the night at a bar with Maddy. "No, I'm still taking care of myself. I'm getting lunch right now."

  Tess clucks her tongue when I tell her what I'm getting. "They probably cook those vegetables and rice in MSG. Do you know how bad that is for you?"

  "I'm only eighteen. I don't think I'm going to have a heart attack."

  "It's important to create good habits."

  "OK, I'll stop on the way back and get some milk to balance it out."

  "That's a good start."

  I tell myself Tess frets over my lunch to cope with the disappointment of me not coming home. "I am really sorry about last night."

  "Do you think you'll be home tonight?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "I can have Jacob bring your things there. At least a suitcase to tide you over."

  I press myself flat against the wall. I can't bring myself to say anything for a couple of minutes. On one hand I care about Tess and I want her to be happy. On the other I don't want her constant mothering at the moment. Plus there's Grace. With Maddy gone, someone should look after her, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid.

  "A suitcase would be good," I finally say and hate myself a little for it. I try to cover up with a lie. "Grace is feeling a little under the weather. I thought I'd help take care of her. You know, make some chicken noodle soup and whatnot."

  "That's very thoughtful of you, dear," Tess says, although from the flatness of her tone I know she doesn't buy it. "I'll put a few things together for you."

  "Thanks." I hear someone call out my number. "I'd better go."

  I hang up the phone and then go get my food. I feel like the worst person in the world.

  ***

  Grace must see how downcast I look when I walk through the door. "You get mugged or something?" she asks.

  "Huh? No. Just been thinking about things."

  "That's always dangerous." On the surface it seems that Grace is back to her old self, but I can hear something hollow in her voice, as if she's going through the motions.

  We eat in silence and I notice how Grace bolts her food. Despite my earlier hunger, I pick at the stir fry with a pair of chopsticks; I move it around in the carton more than I eat any of it. A pall hangs over us, a pall with Maddy's name on it.

  Grace finishes hers before I've eaten half of mine. She looks at her watch. "I should get to work on my dissertation," she says.

  "Sure."

  "Can you handle all the excitement down here?"

  I flash her a fake smile. "I'll try."

  With that I'm alone again. At least until a half hour later when two girls walk in, both of them as fat as my first customer. The reason for that becomes clear once one says, "We're looking for something hot. Our friend said you could help us out."

  "I'll see what I can do," I say. I set my half-eaten stir-fry aside to help the fat girls find something to wear. When there's nothing up front, I go into the back to search through the box of recent items.

  As I do, I hear one on her phone say, "I can't tonight. We're going out to this club. The Honey Well Club."

  This piques my interest. I look up from the box, a dress still in my hands. "It's ladies night," she says. She snorts at something the other person said and responds, "You'd never get in there. It's very exclusive."

  I continue to eavesdrop until I hear one of the others grumble, "Where did that skinny little bitch go? Christ, let's just get out of here."

  I grab a few dresses at random and then hurry back to them. "What about these?"

  After I've rung up a couple of "hot" dresses for them, I think about what the one said. The Honey Well Club is where the Worm said Bobby Blades likes to hang out. Maybe I should pay it a little visit.

  Then I think of Grace upstairs. Despite that she said she wanted to work on her dissertation, I imagine her still on the couch with a pillow she wishes were Maddy. I shouldn't leave her alone tonight. She's my friend. She might need my support.

  But Bobby Blades is one of Lex's goons who helped put me in this situation. He's one of the people who took me away from Maddy, which in turn has taken her away from Grace. He's partially responsible for this mess. Why should he get to drink and grope women while Maddy, Grace, and I mope around heartbroken?

  There's no decision to be made. The bastard will pay. Tonight.

  Part 5:

  Sweet Revenge

  Chapter 32

  I prepare for my visit to the Honey Well Club the rest of the afternoon. I've never been in a nightclub except on raids, but I know I can't wear a T-shirt and jeans. I need something "hot" to wear. Luckily the fat women haven't cleaned out Grace's selection yet.

  I try on a few dresses before I find one I like. It's black and short almost to the point of indecency. In the dressing room mirror I spend a couple minutes to adjust the bust, to show as much as possible. Maybe I should try to pad my bra or see if Grace has any push-up ones in stock. I remember how much trouble I had with a regular, unpadded bra and decide to skip it and hope for the best.

  The real problem comes with the shoes. I can't wear sneakers or flats. I need heels. I look through some boxes in the back, until I find a pair of black shoes with three-inch stiletto heels. They look right, but they sure as hell don't feel right. For one thing my foot feels like it's perfectly vertical. For another the shoes pinch my toes like someone's clamped them in a vise. How are you supposed to walk in these?

  I take my first fall three seconds later. I'm lucky I fall into a box of clothes so I don't scrape my knees or break my stupid neck. After I collect myself, I try again. I remember when I first woke up as a woman, how I could hardly walk barefoot. Baby steps, I remind myself.

  So for the rest of the afternoon I shuffle around the shop and kick off the shoes on the couple of rare occasions when a customer comes in. That the salesgirl is barefoot and wears an indecent dress doesn't come as a shock to anyone, not in the bohemian garment district.

  I'm in the middle of making my way across the floor when Grace comes downstairs. I look at the clock and see it's time to close up for the night. She raises an eyebrow when she sees me. "What are you doing?"

  "Practicing," I say. "For Maddy's father's funeral. If she wants me there."

  "Of course she'll want you there," Grace says. She puts an arm around me, which also helps to steady me. "You're our friend."

  "Thanks." I look down at my feet and my cheeks turn warm. "Can you help me? I haven't worn these before."

  "You've never worn heels?"

  "No. The only formal occasions I've been to are trials."

  "Come on, let's take those off." Grace holds onto my arm as I kick the shoes off. She goes into the back room and I hear her rummage around for a minute. The shoes she comes back with are shorter, with wider heels. Not as drop-dead sexy as the stilettos, but I might not break my neck in them either. "Let's start with somethin
g easier."

  These shoes are easier to walk in. For one thing my foot isn't quite so vertical and for another the shorter, wider heel is more like a normal shoe. I feel good when I take a few steps and don't fall-until Grace clucks her tongue.

  "You walk like a man," she says.

  My stomach flutters. Has Grace figured it out? "I do?"

  "I guess it's not a surprise, not the way you were brought up. Am I right?"

  "Yeah, right," I say, eager to change the subject. "What am I doing wrong?"

  "Watch my feet." Grace puts the shoes on and then glides across the floor. "One foot in front of the other. Heel-toe, heel-toe. See?"

  "I think so."

  "Now you try it."

  She gives the shoes back to me. I take a deep breath and then swing my left heel so it's aligned with my right toes. In the process I just about topple myself. Grace reaches out to catch me before I can fall. "You're still trying to walk like a man. Don't be so aggressive with your stride. Just glide, nice and easy. Go with the flow."

  "Sorry." I've never done anything gently. I try to use less torque the next time around. It goes a lot easier. I make it to the front of the shop. It's a problem to turn; I brace myself against the wall to keep my balance.

  "You're getting it," Grace says. She holds out her arms as if I'm a baby taking her first steps. Like a baby I collapse into Grace's arms. "Now we just need to do something about that dress."

  ***

  The dress Grace picks out for me is a lot more conservative, the kind better suited for a funeral than a nightclub. I tell her I like it and she promises to get it cleaned before my funeral-Steve Fischer's funeral. With that settled we go upstairs, where Grace reheats some spaghetti and the omelets I bought for breakfast.

  Through some kind of culinary magic she makes both edible and able to work together. No wonder Maddy's stayed with her for the last couple of years. A smart, funny woman who can cook like this is quite a catch. And she doesn't look bad either.

  My cheeks turn warm and I look down at my plate. Do I have a crush on Grace? She notices something's wrong and asks, "Not hungry?"

  "Oh, no. The food is delicious. I was just thinking of Maddy. Do you think she'll be all right?"

  "She'll be better once she vents some of the anger and disappointment."