bragged about living next door to him.
Ena closed in on Sonnie and stared hard at her face. “Oh, you poor dear,” she said, shaking her head and sighing. “What a mess you’ve made of yourself.”
“If you’ll excuse us, ma’am,” Roy said, gripping Sonnie’s elbow, “we wouldn’t want to take up a busy woman’s time.”
“Not at all,” Ena said, batting a soft hand from a loose wrist. “Being neighborly is close to being godly in my book. I suppose you have to wait a while before having plastic surgery. Didn’t I hear that?”
Sonnie’s scars, the ones not hidden by her clothes, felt as if they swelled and throbbed. “That’s right,” she said. “Thank you for coming over.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. You poor girl. All you have to do is shout and I’ll be here.” This time Ena studied Sοnnie’s legs. “I’ll be more than glad to run errands, too. Save that leg—and your foot.”
Sonnie’s heart pounded. She said, “Thanks.”
Ena peered at Roy. “Don’t I know you? Where have I seen you?” Her unlined face bore the sheen of some lotion or cream. The white hair was a platinum bleach job taken too far.
Roy, who religiously avoided the sun, wore a straw Stetson. He also wore Western boots with tooled-silver toe caps. “Well, ma’am—”
“Ι’m Ena Fishbine, but it’s just Ena.”
“Well, Ena, I reckon you may have seen me. I’m Roy Talon. I own the Rusty Nail on Duval.”
Ena shuddered and averted her face. “A bar. No, I wouldn’t know someone from a bar. I don’t believe in imbibing.” She returned her full attention to Sonnie, who noted a flush on the woman’s face. “I want you to let me do what Ι can to help you. There isn’t any task I won’t tackle. I noticed you haven’t gone through and taken off the dustcovers yet. Probably hard to do with all the worry about your husband. Let me help you.”
“I hadn’t planned—”
“You look awful, dear,” said Ena. “My, oh, my. What’s happened to your hair, your clothes...your sandals?” Sonnie couldn’t think how to respond.
“Got caught in the storm last night,” Roy said, and Sonnie noted that his drawl was more pronounced than his brother’s.
“Well,” said Ena, ignoring Roy. “I’m sure you don’t need me making you feel even worse, Mrs. Giacano. Some secrets are meant to be kept.” She gave Roy a rapid, sideways glance. Then she pressed the florist’s box into Sοnnie’s arms. “I promised I’d make sure you got these. I’ll check back on you later, help you get settled in.”
“Oh, you don’t have—”
“That’s what neighbors are for,” said Ena, already making for the gap in the fence. “You need a friend. A good friend. Then you won’t want to spend nights in bars. I’ll be back. I’m coming, Edward.”
Roy gave a low chuckle and said, “Yup, you’ve got to give up all that drinkin’, Sonnie. Shouldn’t be a problem with Just Ena’s help.”
She grimaced and led the way to the house. “She’s a victim of her tongue. I do seem to recall her now. One of those people with a heart of gold—according to people around here. Not that I ever got to talk to many of them.”
Roy leaned around her to open the door, and she forced herself to walk in without hesitation. “Thank you for bringing me home,” she said. “And thank you for allowing me to spend the night.”
Roy chuckled some more. “We were glad to have you. But that brother of mine made it pretty clear you’d be staying. Chris in his forceful mode isn’t someone you buck. Good to see him that way again.”
When she frowned at him, Roy smiled. “Good to see my brother worked up about something. It’s not easy to get him riled up these days, but you sure managed. Only gets ruffled over things that interest him. Like the Harley. Had to put a wider door in that shack he calls home, just so he could sleep with that bike where he can see it. Yep. In fact I don’t recall the last time I saw him like he was
Learning to Kill: Stories