I jumped out of my chair and started to run for the front door. I was halfway through the dining room when Morelli snagged me by the back of my shirt and stopped my progress with a sharp yank that had me pressed against his chest.
"Your mother," he said, handing me the phone.
"Stephanie," my mother said. "What is this I hear about your being pregnant?"
"I'm not pregnant. This is a living arrangement, not a marriage."
"Everybody's talking. Everybody thinks you're pregnant. What should I tell Mrs. Crandle?"
"Tell her I'm not pregnant."
"Your father wants to talk to you."
I could hear the phone being transferred and then some breathing.
"Dad?"
"Yeah," he said. "How's the Buick running? You gotta give it high test, you know."
"Don't worry. I always give it high test." I never gave it high test. It didn't deserve high test. It was ugly.
He gave the phone back to my mother, and I could hear my mother rolling her eyes at him.
"I have a nice pot roast on the stove," she said. "With peas and mashed potatoes."
"Okay," I said. "I'll come for dinner."
"And Joseph."
"No. He can't make it."
"Yes, I can," Joe said.
I gave a big sigh. "He'll come, too."
I disconnected and gave him the phone. "You'll be sorry."
"NOTHING LIKE BEING PREGNANT to give a woman a glow," Grandma said.
"I may be glowing, but I'm not pregnant."
Grandma looked down at my stomach. "You look pregnant."
It was all that damn Italian food. "It's cake," I said.
"You might want to get rid of that cake before the wedding," Grandma said. "Or you're going to have to buy one of them empire gowns that don't have a waist."
"I'm not getting married," I said. "There's no wedding."
Grandma sat up straighter. "What about the hall?"
"What hall?"
"We figured you'd hold your reception at the Polish National Hall. It's the best place for it, and Edna Majewski said they had a cancellation, but you'd have to act fast."
"You didn't hire a hall!"
"Well, we didn't put down no deposit," Grandma said. "We weren't sure of the date."
I looked to Joe. "You explain it."
"Stephanie's apartment got damaged in the fire, and she's renting a room from me until her apartment's repaired."
"How about sex?" Grandma asked. "Are you having sex?"
"No." Not since Saturday.
"If it was me, I'd have sex," Grandma said.
"Christ," my father said, at the head of the table.
My mother passed me the potatoes. "I have forms for you to fill out for the insurance. Ed was over at your apartment and said there was nothing left of it. He said the only thing that was left was the cookie jar. He said the cookie jar was fine."
I silently dared Morelli to say something about the cookie jar, but Morelli was busy cutting his meat. The phone rang and Grandma went to the kitchen to answer it.
"It's for you, Stephanie," Grandma yelled.
"I been calling all over, trying to track you down," Lula said. "I got some news. Joyce Barnhardt called Vinnie just before we were getting ready to leave, and Connie listened in. Joyce told Vinnie she'd make him bark like a dog if he put her back on the case and guess what?"
"I can guess."
"Yeah, so then she goes on to tell Vinnie how she's getting her leads on Maxine. And now we know the name of the little jackoff that's helping Joyce."
"Yes!"
"So I figure maybe you and me should pay him a visit."
"Now?"
"You got something better to do?"
"No. Now will be fine."
"I'll pick you up then on account of I'm not riding in that Buick."
Everyone stopped eating when I returned to the table.
"Well?" Grandma said.
"It was Lula. I'm going to have to eat and run. We have a lead on a case."
"I could go, too," Grandma said. "Like last time."
"Thanks, but I'd rather you stayed home and entertained Joe."
Grandma winked at Morelli, and Morelli looked like a snake that just swallowed a cow and got it stuck in his throat.
Ten minutes later, I heard a car pull to the curb outside. Rap music thumped through the house, the music cut off and in moments Lula was at the door.
"We got a lot of pot roast," Grandma said to Lula. "You want some?"
My mother was on her feet, setting an extra plate.
"Pot roast," Lula said. "Boy, I like pot roast." She pulled a chair up and shook out her napkin.
"I always wanted to eat with a Negro," Grandma said.
"Yeah, well, I always wanted to eat with a boney-assed old white woman," Lula said. "So I guess