“Did she even know he was going to be here?” I wonder out loud.
“I think she was mostly shocked that he was, you know. No longer with us.”
I shake my head. “I’m wondering if he was here to see her. Did she invite him?”
“You think he was creeping on you again?”
“No, I think he was more attracted to the building.”
Felix frowns. “Like… physically?”
I’m not touching that one. “Remember what he said when we were out by the pool, about how this place could be a party house? Just add a hot tub and voila!”
“Hot tubs are notoriously unsanitary. Not that that’s the main issue,” Felix adds, like he’s afraid I’ll think less of him for caring about hygiene. He picks up a tarnished ladle, tracing the engravings on the handle with his thumbnail. If memory serves, it was used a murder weapon in at least one game ofKilling Me Softly. Since he seems to be lost in thought, I don’t point that out.
“There would also have been snacks,” he says at last. “If she invited him.”
“Tea and cookies?”
“Unless it was lemonade. The powdered kind.”
I think of what I saw in her grocery bags and am quietly impressed by the accuracy of his guess. “With those pink wafer things that taste like Styrofoam with filling,” I add, not to be outdone. “Or Little Debbies.”
He gives me a considering look. “Are we talking Oatmeal Creme Pies?”
“Either that or Zebra Cakes. She’s not the Swiss Roll type.”
“Obviously. That might spread joy and happiness.” Felix looks like he’s fighting a grin, which is how I know we’ve gone too far down this rabbit hole. Though if the FBI hired profilers who specialize in the entertaining habits of elderly people, we’d be shoo-ins.
“Are you dazzled by my powers of deduction?” He blows on his nails then pretends to buff them on his sleeve. It’s right on the razor’s edge between dorky and funny, so I turn away before he can see my reaction.
“Guess I’ll check the mail while I’m down here.”
“Want me to come with you?”
It’s like he knows I’ve been running over the route in my head, to make sure I steer clear of the billiards room. I’ve gone from avoiding Bradley to avoiding the place where he… I shudder at the reminder that being leered at is no longer an issue.
“If you want,” I tell Felix, like it doesn’t matter to me either way—but I wait for him to follow me to the mail room.
When I open the door, Grandma Lainey and Mrs. A have their heads bent close together, trading urgent whispers. They look up at us like they’ve been caught vaping in the school bathroom.
It takes my grandmother approximately two blinks to recover. “I would say, ‘You’re not at the pool,’” she drawls, “but I try to avoid stating the obvious. Everything okay?”
“Fine.” My tone is so easy and breezy, it stops just shy of a double thumbs-up.
“I’m also fine,” Felix volunteers.
“We’re fine too,” Mrs. A hastens to add.
Okay then. “I’m going to go up.” This time I do add a raised thumb, pointing in the direction of the stairs.
“And I’ll check on my grandfather.” Felix sounds like the boy hero in a 1950s sitcom.
Grandma Lainey stares at him with her head cocked. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to do in the next two minutes, but I’ll be sure to inform you all when I do.”
Thoroughly roasted, we make our exit. Felix walks me from the elevator to the door of my grandmother’s condo.
“Um,” he says. “Let me know if you want to—”
