Naughty or Nice by Eric Jerome Dickey Read Free Book Online

straight to her voicemail. We left a high-spirited message, passing the phone back and forth, telling her we missed her like crazy.
    She asked, “You think it’s Tony’s baby?”
    I grunted. “Fucker.”
    â€œMomma always said you can’t stop a man from cheating.”
    â€œBut a baby? Too bad Livvy can’t send his ass to jail for fucking her over like that.”
    Tommie laughed a little. “Like you tried to do to your ex-hubby-wubby.”
    I bumped her and joined in. “Tried my best.”
    My starter hubby was in the army. I raised hell, tried to get that ho locked up under article 143 of the UCMJ, one that was there to punish adulterers, but not a damn thing happened. Military looked out for their own. Fuck ’em. I wanted to join the army after high school, needed that college money, but because of height and weight standards . . . whatever. I just would’ve ended up brainwashed and out in a fucking desert trying to do my best not to become a friggin’ POW. My ex-ho for a hubby cheated with that bulimic bitch he met in basic training. Couldn’t count the number of times he called me fat.
    Tommie said, “You hate Tony?”
    â€œNo, I love him. He’s family.” I shook my head. “I’m just so . . . disappointed.”
    â€œHe did so much for me. This is such a major letdown.”
    I took a hard breath. “God, I need a cigarette.”
    â€œNo, you don’t.”
    â€œAt least get me a milk shake and a dozen Krispy Kremes.”
    We walked at a slow pace, cool breeze blowing across the lot, street traffic punctuating the calm, leaving my memories behind with each step, knowing that they would all catch up with me later in life.
    Tommie went on, “Livvy always shuts down when things get rough.”
    â€œLike when Momma died.”
    Tommie pulled her lips in. “I miss them sweet potato pies.”
    â€œSho ’nuff.”
    â€œShe made the best sweet potato pies in the whole wide world.”
    We held hands, our arms swinging back and forth.
    I said, “Haveta keep tradition and visit the cemetery.”
    â€œBeen getting your breasts checked?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œFrankie—”
    â€œI know, I know.”
    â€œThat’s where it starts. Remember Aunt Amy, Auntie Alex . . .”
    â€œGuess it . . . guess it scares me. Maybe I’d rather not know.”
    â€œNot knowing isn’t going to make it go away, not going to make you live longer.”
    I’d parked near the sheriff’s substation. She hopped in my car. I started letting the top down and noticed all the colorful signs, streamers, and frosted decorations advertising Christmas sales in every store window. Hell, Christmas decorations had been up before Halloween. And Thanksgiving decorations probably went up right after the Fourth of July. Holidays overlapped like relationships.
    â€œWow.” Tommie turned around and picked up my bouquet. “Frankie, these are nice roses.”
    â€œYou want ’em?”
    â€œNah. That wouldn’t be right.”
    â€œLying about how you look should be a felony.”
    â€œWhat did the fugly man say about not looking like his picture?”
    â€œThink I was too stunned to ask. Seeing Nick—”
    â€œBig Dick Nick had you going woo woo woo.”
    â€œHell, yeah.” I laughed. “Had to pop a Percodan when he was through with me.”
    â€œSomebooty is still sprung on the woo woo woo.”
    â€œSeeing Nick, acting like a fool, then seeing fugly standing there with roses . . . it was too much.”
    I drove around the lot, parked between Ross and Subway. That’s where she’d left my old Jeep Wrangler. Well, it was her Jeep now. I’d given it to her as a present after she came back home. She hadn’t washed it once since she’d had it. I didn’t say anything. I wanted to, but