Page 27 of Death is My BFF
“I was in the area, missy. And I have a key, which means you can’t throw any alcohol-infested partizzles while the folks are away.”
She dangled the key smugly.
“You have to have friends to throw apartizzle, Aunt Sarah.
What’s in the Mary Poppins bag?”
“Vegetarian lasagna.”
“Bleh!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, would you like scurvy for dinner instead? We both know you haven’t eaten a vegetable in days.”
I fluttered my eyelashes innocently. “In what world is Count Chocula not a vegetable?”
“Exactly.” Tossing her raincoat haphazardly onto the rack by the front door, my aunt stepped into the kitchen to put my dinner in the fridge. Then she wandered into the living room and slumped onto the couch beside me.
“What’s up with the business outfit?” she asked. My heart ticked up a notch. I was still wearing the clothes from my failed appointment at the D&S Tower, and she couldn’t know that I’d visited New York
City by myself. That was 100 percent off-limits when my parents were around and 110 percent off-limits when they weren’t even in the same state. My parents made it clear I couldn’t leave town while they were away and that they would ground me if I did.
“Apparently, ripped jeans and band T-shirts aren’t suitable for yearbook pictures anymore. Pleasant Valley likes to torture its students by making them come in on a staff development day.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t seem entirely convinced. “And where the heck is your car?”
Dad had turned half our garage into a gym and the other half was where my mom parked her car, which meant Aunt Sarah had noticed my car wasn’t parked its usual spot next to my dad’s truck in the driveway. The gig was up.
“I drove Marcy to get our photos done this morning,” I said.
“She asked to borrow my car afterward to see this guy and said she’d drop it off later.”
Damn that was good. I’m pretty amazing at this whole lying thing.
“Doesn’t Marcy have her own car?”
“Mr. Delgado isn’t letting her drive for a while. Long story short, a few weeks ago, Marcy drove tipsy to get fast food. Her dad happened to be on duty that night and pulled her over. Now she’s on an unofficial license suspension.”
Sheriff Delgado was one of the most well-respected men in Pleasant Valley. Although I loved him like a second father, his over-protectiveness was mostly responsible for Marcy’s rebellious behavior.
Since Mrs. Delgado’s passing, it was no secret that Marcy and her dad had a rocky relationship. Revoking her license to teach her a lesson is something he would actually do, and Marcy had driven drunk to get a burger before, so the blatant lie to my aunt wasn’ttoofar-fetched.
“Her dad thinks she’ll behave better without a car,” I continued.
“But you know Marcy.”
“Always finds a way to get what she wants,” Aunt Sarah said.
“And apparently, you’re her accomplice.”
“It was a onetime thing, I swear.” I passed the bowl of cheddar popcorn, swiftly changing the subject. “How was your week?”
“Adulting sucks.” She shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “I’m trying to organize all these local bookstore events to help get some new customers and it’s a major drag. I wish I could hire another employee full-time, but nobody wants to work anymore.”
“True dat. Is Ruby still there? I miss Ruby. She always has hard candy in her pocket.”
“I love Ruby to death, but she’s a thousand years old, and she keeps telling customers as they leave not to take any wooden nickels.”
“Harsh.”