Lauren Takes Leave by Gerstenblatt, Julie (ebooks children's books free txt) 📕

his head. “Nah, man. Better start getting usedto it. Your work is already known…and I got big plans for you.”

Kat and I exchange bemused eyebrow raises. Then we escortJodi through the electronic, hospital-like doors and into the frigidair-conditioning of the old age home.

“Hi-yyy,” Jodi purrs halfheartedly to the receptionist.“I’m Sonia Goldberg’s granddaughter. She…” Jodi makes elaborate gestures withher hands to denote moved into the great beyond without me by her side.

The receptionist jumps up quickly, sparing Jodi the needto explain any further. “Of course! Follow me this way.”

She motions our group to a set of double swinging doorsoff to the left of the lobby, only then looking from face to face.

“Are…all of you…relatives…of the deceased?” Shepauses on Tim.

“Why, yes, ma’am, yes we are.” Tim nods and tips his hat,southern charm and con man all in one. He turns to us and smiles, giving a lookthat says: Watch and learn, people. This is how you excel at daytimetelevision and suck the blood from unsuspecting New York mobsters while playinga superhero. This is how you get through those double doors. Nice andeasy, with a little swagger.

The receptionist pauses and gives an uncertain grin in return.“My,” she says, unable to utter more than one syllable in the presence of suchinfamous hotness.

I plaster a fake smile on my face and smooth down my hair.Kat tries to appear taller. Jodi begins wailing full force, as Lenny comfortsher, saying, “There, there, cous’. I know just how you feel.”

The doors swing on their hinges, and we have made itthrough to the other side. Covert high fives follow all around.

I pat Tim on the back. “I think you almost earned a thirdOscar nod just then.”

He winks and tips his hat again, mimicking his actionsalmost exactly from a moment ago. “Aw, shucks, ma’am, it was nothin’.”

“I can’t believe I already broke my resolution to stoplying,” Jodi complains. “That crying was complete bullshit.”

She leads us around a corner and into a room shrouded indarkness. A frail figure rests there, outlined under the thin white sheet. Inthe dim light, I can make out some old photographs in gilt frames on thebedside table, of a young woman dancing. Each image finds her in a differentcostume, from a dramatic ball gown to a fringed flapper dress. This must havebeen Jodi’s grandma. In the largest photograph, she poses with a handsome manwho must have been her husband.

In the corner of the room sits a huge basket of oranges,still wrapped in cellophane and tied with a bow.

Then the real tears come.

I know it’s not nice of me, but while Jodi and the HebrewHome’s staff are discussing next steps for the body, I slip into the deceasedgrandma’s bathroom and freshen up. Under the sink, I find individually wrappedsoaps and a few packages of denture-safe toothbrushes. The only eye drops Ifind are prescription ones for glaucoma, and I decide not to risk it. In theabsence of deodorant, I find Gold Bond talcum powder and rub it under my arms.

It is decided that we will eat breakfast while Jodi’sgrandma is being “prepared” or whatever.

“What happens now?” I ask, as we exit the building andstand around uncertainly.

“I don’t know,” Jodi admits. “I guess my mom will takecare of it all from here. I better call her.”

We start walking down the circular drive and, at the mainroad, turn left. The staff suggested we dine at a Denny’s about a half a blockup, which had gotten Tim all excited.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate in a Denny’s!” he saysagain, as we approach the huge yellow-and-red sign.

“No way, mom!” Jodi shouts into the phone. We are about toenter the restaurant. Kat has her hand on the handle and gives me a look askingwhat should I do? I shrug in return. She moves back from the door and wedecide to wait it out in the parking lot, since Jodi’s phone call has gottenincreasingly louder.

“That’s…gross!” she complains. “I’m sorry I’m notbeing mature enough for you, mother, but…really…I don’t see why I haveto be the one to escort her home! All by myself!”

Lenny coughs loudly.

This is followed by silence as Jodi listens to theresponse and shakes her head back and forth. Then she speaks again. “Fine. Justremember what happened when I had to dissect a frog in sixth grade. That’s all I’msaying.” Then she hangs up and looks at us staring at her. “What?”

Tim is the only one brave enough to approach Jodi,probably because he doesn’t know any better, having only met her yesterday.“You okay?” he tries.

“Oh, don’t use any of your smooth southern acting charm onme!” she spits. Tim’s eyes go wide as she continues. “This was supposedto be a little vacation for me, you know. Some time off from my family.But now, that’s all a fantasy. Because, now I have to make sure mygrandma is packed in dry ice so that I can take her back to New Yorkwith me…later today!”

“Sucks to be her,” Kat whispers.

“Sucks to be her?” I ask Kat, annoyed. “You mean,it sucks to be us. I have news for you, Kat. This is Sympathy 101 andyou’re now enrolled. We’re all flying back with her.”

Kat looks over her shoulder, to where Jodi and Tim aretalking it out. “You mean…party’s over?”

“’Fraid so.” I nod. “Time to deal.”

Chapter 24

Breakfast is a solemn affair as everyone slumps furtherinto his or her own contemplative shell. There is little of the joking,fun-wheeling aura of last night. Four hours of sleep can do that to you. So canguilt, remorse, confusion, and possession of a corpse.

I notice Lenny staring at me over a pile of pancakes, andI squirm against the pleather banquette. “What?” I blurt.

Everyone jumps at the sound. Lenny pulls his lips intight, and cocks his head to the side, studying me. “It’s just…you lookdifferent than you did yesterday. Like…less angry,” he decides.

Less angry?

Jodi pipes in, stabbing the air with a fork full ofsausages. “He’s right! And…your eyes look bigger!”

“Are you guys messing with me?” I ask, scanning theirfaces for signs of irony.

“Huh,” Kat says. “It’s like…your forehead