We’re both doused with arctic spray before we can hop out of the stall.
Laughing, we dry off as Catrina peeks around the corner. “Meow? Meow? Meow?”
“Yeah, I’ll feed you. Give me a moment.” Suds snaps me with his towel and wraps it around his waist.
Kitty, tired of waiting, tangles herself between his legs until he has to balance on one foot. “If you trip me, you might starve.”
“Mrmph.” Our tabby pads over to the fridge and stares at it.
“Yeah, yeah, I know where it is.” After setting down her bowl, he pats her head and jumps a mile as the steel dumpster thunders next door.
Cringing, I towel dry my hair, and break a couple eggs into an iron fry pan warming on our hot plate.
Leaning close, I shout into his ear. “Don’t forget our meeting with Father O’Connell.”
He makes a frowny face. “I thought they ended the inquisition in the middle ages.”
“Today, we’ll only talk about the date. Please?”
He rolls his eyes. “Your monsignor is downright senile. Have you listened to any of his sermons lately?”
“Honestly? No.” I giggle. “His conclusions confuse the hell out of me, but I don’t think it’s his age. Aunt Marion said he always rambled.”
“Seriously?”
“Just come. I promise it won’t take long.”
“Fine but you owe me one.” He winks. “I accept all forms of payment.”
“Will do.” I put some bread in the toaster and grab some butter out of our office size refrigerator and glance at the time as the jackhammer starts up again.
Catrina scrambles under the couch and peeks out so I give her a kitty treat and wait for a break in the noise before trying to speak again.
“Poor kitty. She’s going to be traumatized.”
“Shit. Me too. I ordered us some earplugs online. I don’t think they make them for cats.”
I pour us both a cup of coffee, add cream, and try to talk between the noises next door. “At work… I’ll see what other gossip… I can dig up.”
Sebastian waits until the loud pounding stops. “On Mrs. Rossini?”
“Uh-huh. I’m going to ask my cousins and aunt about her. Maybe while I’m at the salon, you can see if you can find Mrs. Gallo’s husband. If he’s alive, that should put Martha’s mind at ease as well as our consciences for taking her money.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He grimaces when the hammering starts again.
“What?”
“Nothing!”
Grabbing my coat, hat and scarf, I kiss my beautiful man goodbye. Then, I walk down a flight of stairs, and at the bottom, pause to zip up. Even through the door, I can feel the cold damp wind blowing off the Atlantic.
Overhead and across the street, Manhattan commuters wait for the elevated train. Glad I’m not one of them, I rush along the sidewalk to my aunt’s hair salon. Before it was hers, it belonged to my nonna.
Alone, I stock all the stations with hairspray and shampoo before sitting down and enjoying a quiet cup of coffee.
I’m searching social media for potential clients when my two cousins arrive. Rose, the oldest, raises her brows as she stuffs her coat in the closet. “You look like something the cat dragged in. Did you have a fight with Suds?”
“No. I got woke up way too early because of a jackhammer.”
