Lucy's Launderette Read Online Free PDF

life.
    â€œHi, Connie.” The sound of my own voice made me shrink. It was too chirpy, like a cheerleader’s. Connie just nodded.
    I qualified myself. “Jeremy asked me to come and see you. I have no idea why. He thought I should.”
    â€œI guess you better come in.” The sound of her voice scared me. It was a low-pitched monotone at the best of times, which made it impossible to read her emotions, but now there was something else lurking there.
    She slouched toward the living room and I followed her. The air in the house was close and fuggy and the curtains were drawn. She slumped into an armchair, narrowed her eyes at me and blew a smoke ring. “So Jeremy wanted you to see me, eh?”
    â€œHe sent me a letter. He must have sent it just before he…uh.”
    â€œBit the big one?”
    â€œYes. Did you know he was going to do what he did?”
    â€œNot exactly. But I had a feeling it was coming. He was sick. They didn’t give him much more than a few months. He was feeling really bad.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell us he was sick? Why didn’t he tell us?”
    â€œHe said he didn’t want to see that look in people’s eyes. He didn’t want anybody feeling sorry for him.”
    I wanted to be able to blame her. I wanted to hear that Connie had talked him into it, that she was somehow responsible, but I could see that it wasn’t the case. Still, I was mad, and when the “Jesus” came out of my mouth she was quick to answer.
    She said, “You don’t like me, do you? None of your family does. You all think I’m trash.”
    My mouth opened like a fish’s and then shut again. I didn’t know what to say.
    She went on, “I didn’t choose Jeremy. He chose me. If he hadn’t, I’d have been dead in a ditch a long time ago, I can tell you.” She squinted at me again. There was a long silenceand then her voice was so low, she was nearly whispering. “Jeremy got me off junk, you know. He got me off the street, got me out of the life I was leading. I don’t know why he picked me, why he thought I had anything special. But I can tell you, after a few months with him, I thought I was worth saving, too. Now I’m not so sure.” She started to look even greener than before. She muttered, “Oh, Christ,” shot up out of the chair and ran down the hall. I heard a groan and the sound of a toilet flushing. Connie came shuffling back down the hallway and just as it was dawning on me as to why she looked so chunky, she plopped herself back in the chair and said, “Damn him. He wouldn’t let me get rid of it and now it’s too late.”
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    I was early for my date at the Rain Room. Mostly because I wanted to see if Paul Bleeker was serious and had booked ahead. The Rain Room was the kind of place where you practically had to have reservations just to look inside. It was on the top floor of a very tall high-rise overlooking the harbor. It had a central courtyard full of trees and the walls were of molded glass. On the outside, rivulets and cascades flowed down the contours. It was like being under a waterfall or at the center of a rainstorm. At night it was lit with thousands of tiny white lights and the whole place glittered. The background music was watery, too. I recognized Saint-Saens’s “Aquarium.”
    Sure enough, Paul Bleeker had booked a table for two. I lingered in the doorway for a minute. I had decided to go in and sit down when I saw it. Across the Rain Room, outside in the courtyard, Dirk, still dressed as Superman, stood completely still, looking important. He then took one step forward and pressed his face against the glass. Water splashedonto his head and flowed down his body but he was oblivious to it. I bolted.
    As the elevator descended with me in it, I wondered what Paul Bleeker would think of the way I’d stood him up. In that moment, I didn’t care.