He stepped back, giving us plenty of room.
We filed out of the cells, a disheveled parade of flour-covered chaos. The scent of stale coffee, wet clothes, and leftover fried food followed us up the narrow staircase to the main reception area. My hair itched where a clump of flour refused to let go.
Gloria sat in one of the waiting chairs near the front desk. She stood the moment she saw us, her pink coat crisp and her curls glossy, as if she hadn’t just walked into a disaster zone.
“Gloria?” Nana asked. “What are you doing here?”
Gloria placed her hands on her hips. “Zippy. Why did you call me? I’m not someone who bails you out of jail.”
“Oh, come on, Gloria,” Zippy said, trying for charm but sounding tired. “I know you’re married and all, but you can’t be happy with him.”
“I am happy with him,” she said firmly. She looked us all over, nose wrinkling. “You appear to be a complete mess. What happened?”
So word hadn’t spread. Good. “It’s a long story,” I said wearily.
Gloria turned on Zippy with a glare. “I really don’t think my lawyer should be getting in scuffles with my nemesis.”
Nana reared back. “Nemesis? I’m not your nemesis.”
“Of course you are,” Gloria said.
“No,” Nana said calmly. “I’ve never thought of you that way.”
Gloria frowned. “But we compete for pies every year.”
“Well, yes,” Nana said. “That doesn’t make us nemeses. I like your pies. Usually.”
Gloria blinked several times. “You do?”
“Sure,” Nana said. “You make a great pie, Gloria. Mine are just a little better.”
Gloria reared back, jaw dropping.
Nana raised her hands quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Seriously. I did not mess with your pie.”
“It was your lotion that ruined it, Fiona,” Gloria said, her voice rising.
Zippy winced. “No yelling, please. It’s been a rough night.” He sighed heavily. “Gloria, would you give me a ride to my car at the Clumsy Penguin? We can talk about your case on the way.”
Gloria crossed her arms. “So long as you understand that I like my husband, not you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I understand,” Zippy muttered.
Gloria turned back to us, eyes narrowing. “I swear, the day the Albertini and O’Shea families combined was a disaster for the entire state.” With that, she pivoted on her heel and strode toward the door. Zippy followed, his shoes squelching faintly on the floor.
I looked at the remaining group. “I guess we’re headed over the pass.”
“I’ve got them,” Cormac said, lifting a hand. “I’m staying at the B-and-B in Silverville. I can take the ladies home.”
Nana sneezed, her tiny body jolting forward.
“Bless you,” Donna said.
Nana waved a hand. “We probably shouldn’t drive yet, Elda. We did a lot of shots.”
“Yes,” Nonna said wisely. “You are correct. Cormac, we would be delighted to accept your offer. We can talk about your family on the way over.”
Cormac’s grin looked pained, and for once there wasn’t even the ghost of a dimple. “Actually, I was hoping we’d just listen to the radio.” He escorted the grandmothers outside, each of them kissing us on the cheeks before departing in a cloud of perfume, exhaustion, and faint whiskey fumes.
