“I mean, what about my civil rights!” Cricket exclaimed into her phone. She was over in the kitchen, looking through the cabinets over the stove, her phone wedged under her chin. She was still dressed in the fairy costume from the night before, but now she had an oversized blazer over it. Her makeup was streaked down her face and her hair was a mess, with only a lone pencil stuck through the center to keep it in a bun on top of her head. “I’m totally going to sue.”
She turned around and looked like she was ready to make another proclamation to whoever was on the other line, but when she caught sight of Anne, she froze. “Oh crap! I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
Anne would have thought her wet hair and terry-cloth robe would suggest no, but instead of pointing it out, she just mustered a smile and shook her head.
“Thank God,” Cricket moaned. Into the phone she said, “I gotta go, call you later, bye!” Then she hung up and threw it on the sofa. “Anne, you have no idea how crazy last night was. They booked me. They took a mugshot. It was like I was a criminal!”
Anne was tempted to point out the obvious—that slapping a police officer did in fact put her in that category—but decided against it.
“Are you all right?” she asked instead. “Did they charge you?”
“Oh, they charged me! I’m out on bail and I have a hearing and I ripped my costume!” Cricket exclaimed, then frowned as if she were about to break into tears. “And now I can’t find the coffee.”
Anne made her way over to the kitchen, opening just about the only cabinet Cricket hadn’t looked through, and grabbed the tin of ground coffee from the top shelf. Cricket sighed with relief, then waltzed over to the sofa and collapsed into it while Anne filled the percolator with water.
“They’re accusing me of fare evasion and evading arrest and threatening an officer. Meanwhile, I hit my head and the police didn’t even care!” Cricket cried, her arm thrown over her eyes. “They just threw me in the back of one of their cars and took me to the precinct. I was stuck in this holding cell forhoursbefore Glen got me out.”
Anne was about to pour the coffee grounds into the percolator but paused. “Glen from 2B?”
“I could have had brain damage!” Cricket continued, undaunted. “I could have died!”
“But you’re okay, right?”
Cricket sighed, sitting up. “Yes, but they didn’tknowthat.”
Anne curbed a smile and finished pouring the coffee grounds, then put the percolator on the stovetop. “Ellis texted a few times, but he made it sound like you could be there for a few days.”
“If it wasn’t for Glen, I would’ve been,” Cricket replied, her indignation gone and now replaced with a dreamy look. “Ellis called him and he came right up to the precinct. He said they had violated my civil rights! Can you believe it?”
Anne was about to ask what specific rights had been violated, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in!” Cricket yelled.
The door opened and a moment later, Glen Rinnard appeared in the hall. “Hello? Is now a good time?”
“Glen!” Cricket exclaimed.
Glen smiled and walked forward, barely nodding at Anne as his attention stayed squarely on Cricket. “I just wanted to check in. See how you were doing.”
Cricket stared up at him, eyes wide. “Better now.”
Anne’s gaze bounced between them. What was going on?
“I’m glad,” he said, sitting down beside her. Anne had only ever seen Glen in the evenings at their board meetings, when he was just home from work and his suit looked like it had seen hell. Between that and his perennially tired expression, she just assumed he didn’t do anything but work. But now, in jeans and a wool sweater that fit snugly around his middle, he actually looked relaxed. Maybe even happy.
Glen and Cricket stared at each other for a moment, and Anne was suddenly struck with the impression that she was very much a third wheel.
The percolator began to gurgle beside her, and Anne had never been more thankful for her antiquated means of making coffee.
“Glen, would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked, pouring some into a mug.
“No, thank you. I just stopped by to discuss the case,” he replied,barely looking over to the kitchen before turning back to Cricket. “Maybe over brunch?”
Cricket’s lips slipped into a smile. “Ilovebrunch. I just need to change. And shower. And do something with my hair.” The thought seemed to remind her that Anne was still standing just a few feet away. “Do you want to join us, Anne?”
Even without the flash of disappointment on Glen’s face, Anne knew there wasn’t supposed to be a third chair at their table.
“No, that’s okay,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and starting toward her bedroom. “I’m actually catching up with a friend. She’s opening a flower shop nearby and I…”
