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

laugh. I jump up and down in the puddles anddemand more. “Roll down the window, Tim! I need to see your whole beautifulface to verify that it’s really you!”

The automatic glass window dips lower to reveal thecomplete facial franchise, from twinkling blue eyes to the adorable dimplessurrounding the slightly cocky grin. He even has the requisite two-day blondstubble. “Satisfied?”

He doesn’t say the word, exactly. He drawls it,nice and slow like.

I believe Tim Cubix is using his southern charm on me.

And it works.

“Well, yes, actually, I am feeling quite…satisfied.” Ismile, flirting with him in a way I never could have earlier in the week. I’dlike to take him home with me so we can snuggle up under a blanket and watchone of his movies while the rain pitter-patters on the roof, but I think thatmight be taking things a bit too far. So instead, I just babble. “You see, anyold schmuck in a limousine can wave a fedora in your face and pretend tobe a Hollywood hotshot.”

The window lowers more, revealing a passenger in the seatnext to Tim. MC Lenny waves a fedora at me, his lips pressed tightly togetherin an embarrassed smile.

I nod my head in his direction. “My point exactly.”

“We had a meeting in the city about the upcoming NewOrleans video, so we came by to pay our respects,” Tim says, but I’m so busywatching those lovely lips move, I hardly hear what they say.

“Kat!” I call, looking out from under my big blackparasol. She needs to see this. Jodi, too. I can only glimpse people a few feetahead of me, and neither of them is in my sightline. Strange. Kat’s car is stillhere, though. I’m not sure about the immediate family, but they probablyalready left. I adjust the umbrella, holding it back so that I can get a widerview of the surrounding area. “Jodi!”

Three figures in black are huddled under a tree, the sametree that Kat used when answering her disruptive phone call. It’s hard to makethem out through the gloom of the rain. Although my vision is distorted, I cantell that one of them is wearing a dress that reaches all the way to theground.

“Stay here!” I instruct the fellas. “I’m going to getJodi!” I yell the words, trying to be heard over the pounding precipitation. Inresponse, I get a double thumbs-up. I’m telling you, they are like two peas ina pod, my Tim and my Lenny.

I pass my Doug, who is still on the phone in our car, nowgesticulating wildly. I hold up my pointer finger to him, in a gesture meant tosay, One minute, I’m going to find Jodi and Kat and bring them back to thatlimo over there, in which sits Tim Cubix and MC Lenny, but I’m not sure hegets all that. He merely nods through the windshield in my general directionand goes back to his call.

Whatever. His loss.

It’s a slight uphill climb to my destination, and my feetare soaked by the time I reach the giant elm, my boots caked with thick mud. I’veprobably ruined the leather, but Tim’s worth it.

“Hi,” I pant, talking to the three pairs of feet meetingmy down turned gaze. “I just wanted to tell you that—”

“Lauren,” says a voice that at first I don’t recognize.“Glad you could make it to your funeral.”

“Leslie?” I ask, moving my umbrella out of the way. “Areyou quoting Dynasty or something?” It’s Leslie, all right. Thesunglasses are gone and her face no longer has the bandages. Instead, a slick,Vaseline-like cream is smeared over the scar. The ointment makes the jaggedline glisten and shine repulsively.

But there’s more. On her head is a plastic CVS pharmacybag, tied neatly under her chin like a bonnet.

“Hi,” Jodi says. What she means is, we’re in deepdoo-doo.

“Hey there,” Kat says. And what she means is, make arun for it.

Neither one looks all that happy to see me.

“Lemme guess,” I say. “She found out about last night’sintermission break-in?”

“And catnapping!” Leslie adds.

“We did not nap your cat,” Kat clarifies. “We merely movedhim to an isolated locale.”

“Because my husband thinks he’s allergic,” I say.

“But he’s not,” the three of us explain in unison.

“May I just say, I thought your dancing was fantastic lastnight,” I interject, trying to kiss Leslie’s substantial behind and confuse hersimultaneously.

Leslie considers this, nodding as if she agrees.

Kat jumps in to continue. “More importantly, had we knownthat you were on the verge of apologizing for your ridiculous and perversebehavior, we never, ever would have stolen your nanny cams.”

“You see, we thought you were going to sue us! Blackmailus!” I say.

“Blackmail us and then sue us!” Kat adds.

“You left us no choice,” I say. “Please—don’t kill us. Weare so very sorry.”

We all freeze while Leslie ponders her next move. Her eyesare large and, at first, blank. Then they seem to fill with tears. In theintervening seconds, Kat moves closer to Leslie, which seems counter-intuitiveto me. If you want to avoid being punched in the nose, I would think you wouldmove your nose out of the way.

But no, Kat’s right in there, kind of studying Leslie’sface, her head cocked sideways, her nose extremely close to Leslie’s jaw line,as if she knows exactly what she’s going to find. She even extends her pointerfinger at the red-and-white CVS baggie-bonnet and kind of pokes around underLeslie’s chin, inadvertently loosening the bow.

“Fascinating,” she says, stepping back toward us.

“What’s that?” Leslie asks.

“You almost can’t tell.”

“Can’t tell what?” I ask.

“That Leslie has a man beard. It requires constantattention so as not to ever appear stubbly.”

“Hey!” Leslie shouts.

Kat keeps talking over her.

“Depilatories, razors, waxes, potions and lotions, you’vegot to be vigilant, right Leslie?”

We all turn to Leslie, trying to figure out if Kat’s wordsare true.

Leslie’s face is a car wreck of emotion, from first impactto crunch of metal to airbags deploying in order to keep her psyche safe fromthis barrage.

Kat speaks on. “Monitoring all that facial hair requiresyou to peer at your reflection in that goose-necked vanity mirror—equipped withnanny cam—formerly at home on your bathroom counter—several times a day, to seeif any whiskers need plucking…”

Leslie lets out