Mr. Pierson nodded. “I hear you’re Mara’s neighbor.”
“Yeah,” Mitch replied, his eyes no longer expressionless but now filled with amusement.
“Good neighbor to have, the police detective who worked with the FBI to sweep the streets of Denver clean,” Mr. Pierson declared, my head turned slowly to him and he kept talking. “Read all about that triple bust in the papers, son, saw your picture too. Bet your parents are real proud. I know, I was them, I would be.”
What was this? Triple bust? FBI? Mitch in the papers?
I looked back at Mitch. I did this making a mental note that after whatever happened to Bill, happened to Bill and I got the kids beds, clothes that fit and weren’t stained or worn out; shoes of the same caliber; kept them fed; got them decent afterschool childcare; and gave them a life that would lead them directly out of the One to Three Zone and straight to the Seven to Ten Zone they deserved to live in that I would buy some tools, learn about plumbing and cars and also start reading the paper.
“You worked with the FBI?” I heard coming from my side and I looked there to see Billy, keeping his distance behind a mattress, eyeing Mitch with his face semi-hard, semi-curious.
“Hey Billy,” Mitch replied.
Billy’s eyes darted to me then back to Mitch then he said, “Hey.” Pause then, “You worked with the FBI?”
“Yeah, Bud,” Mitch answered.
Billy pressed his lips together, for some reason having difficulty making up his mind about what to think of this.
At this point Billie careened into our conversation and she did this by careening directly into Mitch’s h*ps at the side, wrapping her arms around them, looking up at Mr. Pierson and announcing, “He bought me butterflies and flowers!” Then she pointed at the barrette I put in her hair that morning which had a heart on it, not a butterfly or flower. Then she pointed at her chest before she held out her hand with three fingers up. “And three pretty outfits!” Not done she concluded on a shout, “And a fluffy pink teddy bear!”
My eyes slid to Mr. Pierson to see, for some unhinged reason, he looked about ready to burst with joy at this news.
“Well isn’t that just fantastic!” Roberta took this moment to join us; she pushed right in and also pumped Mitch’s hand exuberantly, saying, “I’m Roberta. I work with Mara. And let me just say, you totally missed out with her pizza.”
Oh God, no. Not the pizza.
Roberta, please shut up!
Before I could open my mouth to say something that might make my friend shut up, she kept going. “Trust me, nothing is worth missing Mara’s barbeque chicken pizza. Nuh-thing. Next time, make certain you don’t get called away.”
Mitch’s eyes cut to me.
Oh crap.
“Uh…” I mumbled.
“I love Auntie Mara’s pizza!” Billie screeched.
Oh crap!
“I should probably get back to work,” I put in, unfortunately sounding just as desperate to escape this new and excruciating personal life crisis as I was.
“Oh no, no, take your time, dear,” Mr. Pierson said magnanimously. “Or, actually,” he looked at Mitch, “what kind of mattress do you have?”
Damn.
“What kinds are there?” Mitch unwisely asked and Mr. Pierson’s face melted into a smile.
“Son, you walked into the den of a master. If you aren’t able to extol the virtues of your mattress, Mara will guide you to one that you are. So, while you’re here, you need to let Mara show you our Spring Deluxe.”
No! I was not going to show Mitch mattresses!
I stepped out of Mr. Pierson’s arm and slightly to the side, saying quickly, “Mitch is really busy. He has things to do. You know, the streets of Denver never stay clean for long.” I looked at Mitch and prompted, “Right?”
“I have time to look at the Spring Deluxe,” Mitch drawled.
My eyes narrowed.