Why was Ms. Lloyd asking Ivan about the ad? With the distance between them transforming things, she’d probably misunderstood, but it sure sounded like—
Holy shit.Hadhedone that? Placed that ad?
A moment came back to her—that first meeting with Ms. Lloyd, when she’d called her an old hag. What if…
She covered her mouth to stifle an “oh” of embarrassed surprise and sagged back against the counter, stuck there until the woman came into the kitchen.
“What’s got you?” asked Ms. Lloyd, looking the slightest bit guilty.
“Remember what I called you when we first met?”
The older woman frowned, eyes narrowed. “Indeed I do. You’re lucky I didn’t throw you out right then and there.”
“Do you know why?”
“Why what?”
“Why I called you that?”
“Because you’re a vulgar hussy, that’s why!”
“There is that, but… Hang on.” Uma stood up straight. “I’ll be right back.” She took off up the stairs and into her room, where she found the ad crumpled on the dresser, next to a stale, twenty-year-old bowl of potpourri.
In the dark hall, before heading back down, she hesitated again. Should she even show this to Ms. Lloyd? It would hurt her feelings, wouldn’t it? Remembering the look on the woman’s face when she’d called her a hag, though, clinched it. She deserved to know the truth.
Back in the living room, she pressed the paper into Ms. Lloyd’s hand.
The woman read aloud, “‘Old hag in need of…’” She looked up and blinked. “What is this?”
“The ad I answered for this job. From theGazette. See? That’s your number, right there.”
“You mean…” Her voice trailed off as her owl eyes met Uma’s. Despite her concern, it was shocking to see pain there, quickly stifled. “That sonovabitch.”
“Is Ivan the one who placed this for you?”
“Yes.”
“So, he wrote it?”
“Oh my—” Ms. Lloyd moved across the room and sank onto her pink floral nightmare of a sofa, looking small and defeated.
“Why would he do this?” Uma asked.
“I have no idea.”
Damn it, whyhadhe done it? Was it all some sick game? She thought back to the way he’d taken care of her, asked her out on a date, even offered his bed. That level of kindness didn’t make sense. None of it did. And what about his relationship with Ms. Lloyd? Was he pretending to care about her? One day, Uma would be long gone from their lives, but they’d still be neighbors. He was the only outside contact she seemed to have. Her only friend. But what kind of friend did this?
“No wonder,” said Ms. Lloyd, coming slightly out of her daze.
“No wonder what?”
“The calls. You’ve heard ’em. The damn calls.”
“Because of the ad?”
“That’d be my guess. Pranks. When you called me a hag, you were… Let’s just say you weren’t the first.”
“Am I the first serious response you’ve gotten through this ad?”
