Lot Lizards by Ray Garton Read Free Book Online Page A

silhouetted against the light. A few moments later, a taller figure came, put two arms on the shoulders of the smaller, then both moved out of sight.  
    "Well, do they think she's going to get through the night?" Mom asked, her voice softer now and a little trembly, lips pressed closer to the mouthpiece, until: " No , we're not sight seeing, Janice, we had a wreck . I don't know how much longer we'll—Cece," she interrupted herself, "quit playing with the salt —I don't know how much longer we'll be here. We need a tow, then we've gotta get the car fixed and—oh, oh, yeah, here we go again with your favorite little guilt trip."  
    Jon rolled his eyes. Things were more interesting outside.
    At the front edge of the lot, near the street, someone stood below one of the mercury lamps facing the restaurant. A girl. At least, it looked like a girl. She wore a long dark coat and its hem snapped around her legs in the wind; a cap was pulled down over her head and long fair hair blew around her face and neck. In the glare of the lamp high above her, the girl's face looked gaunt and very pale, as if her skin were caked with flour. She didn't move, just stood stiffly in the flurry of snow, hands in her coat pockets, watching.  
    Jon squinted, pulled the blind down and cupped his hands to his eyes, pressing his nose to the cold glass.
    The window...she was watching the window, his window! Just standing there as if she were unaware of the snow or the ice cold wind... staring . At him !  
    "But what did the doctor say about the blood clot?" Mom asked, drumming her fingers noisily on the tabletop. "Did he say it could—Jon," she interrupted herself again, " Jon -athon! Leave the blinds alone ." Into the phone again: "Did he say it could be fixed?"  
    Jon ignored her.
    The girl still had not moved.
    A truck rolled slowly across the lot and in front of the girl and Jon waited several seconds for it to pass.
    The girl was gone.
    His back stiffened, eyes darting left to right, but he couldn't find her. Where could she have gone? Only seconds had passed, not enough time for her to completely disappear. Unless she'd hunkered down behind a car...  
    The blinds rattled as Jon pulled them down further and craned his head around to look in both directions along the front wall of the restaurant and Mom hissed," Will you stop it!"  
    He pulled away from the window as she returned the receiver to her ear. "Of course David's there already, Janice, he flew . It's a couple hours from L.A. by plane. He's a lawyer . When I'm a lawyer with my own TV commercials, I'll fly, too, okay? Look, just get off it. What about Dad? How's he doing?"  
    Jon watched her; when she was staring at her coffee and chewing on a thumbnail, he knew she was too distracted to notice, so he tugged the blind down again and—  
    —cried out, clamping a palm over his mouth. The blind slapped back into place.
    A white narrow face against the window. Full lips curled into a closed-mouth smile. And eyes...wide, smiling eyes... warm eyes...sparkling...  
    With her hand covering the mouthpiece, lips pulled back over clenched teeth, Mom rasped, "What the hell is wrong with you? Huh? Your little sister is behaving better than you!"  
    "I-I'm, I-I wuh-was—"
    "Well, stop it." Pulling her hand from the receiver: "Okay, sorry, Janice. Just the kids. Look, when you talk to Dad, would you tell him we'll be there as soon as possible? And tell Mom...tell her I love her. Okay?"  
    Jon's hands were trembling from the jolt. Sitting across from him, Cece was busy tearing up her napkin; beside him, Dara was engrossed in the menu. Neither of them had noticed. Mom was still talking, very quietly now, so quietly that he couldn't make out her words above the noise of the restaurant.  
    He lifted his hand slowly and his finger quivered as he hooked it over the blind and very cautiously pulled it down.
    The face was still there, but this time, it wasn't a surprise.
    It was the girl he'd seen