Lauren Takes Leave Gerstenblatt, Julie (classic literature list txt) 📖

a deep, painful groan, much like the soundof a grizzly bear whose foot is caught in a steel trap, then lunges her fullweight at Kat.

Jodi gracefully dance-steps aside to let Leslie pass, andraises her right hand overhead like a bullfighter ready to take on a changinganimal. That hand then comes down on Leslie’s head and snatches the plastic bagfrom it, whipping Leslie’s neck back a little as the bag gets free.

That moment gives Kat enough time to move out of danger.Well, she’s now standing behind me and clutching my forearms protectively,using me as a human shield.

“You’ll have to break through Lauren first!” Kat says.

I hold my umbrella out over Kat; at the very least, I canprotect her from the rain.

“Yeah…I don’t think that’s gonna help you,” I say. “Plus,nice friend you are.”

Kat whispers behind my back, “Shay’s the one who calledduring the funeral. She watched the videos.”

“Yeah, got that.” This is great news, although potentiallyembarrassing. “Did she say how much she watched?”

“What have you done?” Leslie whispers, turning back toJodi. Then, louder, “Look at what you’ve done!”

Kat and I face Jodi and Leslie, both forms now fullyexposed to the weather. Jodi is wearing a triumphant grin, one sopping wet handplaced defiantly on one sopping wet hip. Leslie is crouched over, holding herhead in her hands, trying to protect her hair from the rivulets of rainwaterthat are soaking into it.

“I’m frizzing! I’m frizzing!” she cries, kneeling on theground, the raw grief of the moment making it impossible for her to stay erect.

Kat and I look on, confused.

“Simple fashionista science, people,” Jodi explains,circling Leslie’s form. The clingy black gown trails behind her theatrically asLeslie weeps on the ground, engulfed by her black raincoat and the wetness ofdefeat. “The well-known Keratin hair treatment is an expensive—albeit highlyeffective—solution for those not blessed with naturally glossy hair like mine.”Jodi tries but fails to toss her hair over her shoulder, because it’s nowdrenched and plastered to her head. “This process turns unruly, kinky hair absolutelyshiny and straight. But!” Here she stops and looks at Kat and me, her eyesshimmering with knowledge. “It only works if you keep your hair completelydry for the first four days after treatment. No sweating, no condensationfrom showers, and absolutely…no…rain.”

“So, we, like, messed up her hair?” Kat asks. “That’s it?”

“That’s not just it!” Leslie says, picking her head up andsitting back on the grass, her hair a tangled mess, some of which is nowsticking to the ointment on her totaled face.

“My treatment went beyond Keratin, Jodi. It’s waybotanical and toxic, and some of the most potent ingredients come from anisland in the Pacific Ocean. This magical hair-straightening treatment is onlycurrently available in two underground locations in the United States, becauseit hasn’t received FDA approval yet and probably never will. I can only undergothe process seven times ever before it will give me cancer!” She gathersher strength and stands, looking like she’s going to implode. “And you justwasted one of them!”

“Wait,” Jodi says. “Did you have the infamous GalapagosStraightening?”

Leslie nods.

“I am so sorry I messed that up,” Jodi says. “I had noidea.”

“That’s the problem with your little gang, isn’t it?”Leslie says, as if some deep understanding has just clicked into focus. “Youalways have no idea! You’re always so sorry after the fact,apologizing after you ruin my face, and after you steal from myhouse, and after you destroy my hair!”

She’s kind of got a point there.

“You people are so mean!”

Two points, perhaps.

“And…and…you are ruining my life!”

Well, that might be exaggeration.

“I thought that we were friends,” she sighs, her voice atiny echo of sound.

Jodi, Kat, and I are shamed into silence.

“Excuse me?” A gentlemanly southern voice calls from a fewfeet below the hilly knoll where we are standing. “Ladies? If I may?”

“Is that…?” Jodi asks.

“Oh yeah!” I say, snapping back to attention. “That’s whatI came to tell you. Tim’s here. He and Lenny came for the funeral.” I shrug,like, sorry, it slipped my mind, what with all the bitch slapping.

I lower my umbrella to the ground because the rain, ofcourse, has stopped for Tim Cubix. It’s as if his whole life exists on aback-lot Hollywood sound stage, with directors creating mood through weatherand light.

We squint into the sudden glare of sun on wet pavement andwatch, starry-eyed, as Tim saunters toward us in a worn leather jacket over a grayT-shirt and jeans.

“Is that…?” Leslie asks, echoing Jodi.

Tim reaches our motley crew and looks around, nodding hishead at Kat, Jodi, and me while trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. Whichmeans I get the benefit of full-on dimples.

Sunday just got a whole lot better.

And then he speaks. “What’s that saying? You can take thewomen out of the Miami heat, but you can’t take the Miami heat out of thewomen?”

“Something like that,” Jodi smirks. She twists the waterout of her hair and ties it into a slick, gorgeous bun. “Thanks for coming,Lex. And for your generous message and donation last night.” Tim waves hergratitude away, perhaps trying to make light of his embarrassment of riches.His eyes sweep over the rest of us.

“Hi,” he says, extending his hand to a grotesque looking,completely humiliated Leslie. “I’m Tim.”

Chapter 38

“It was the craziest scene, Doug, and you missed it,” Isay, sliding into the passenger seat of our car. Only, when I turn to look atDoug in the driver’s seat, he’s not there.

“Doug?” I call out, like he could be somewhere in our carwithout me noticing him, or like maybe he just didn’t hear me the first time.

I get back out of the car and look down the private drivethat meanders through the cemetery grounds. There are only a few cars left fromthe funeral procession and no sign of Doug standing about. During the poundingof the rain and the chaos of the quarrel with Leslie, I sort of forgot where Iwas. But in the wake of that emotional and physical storm, a placid hush hasdescended on the property. I gaze across the cemetery and down the soft, greenhill dotted with tombstones, and breathe deeply, sending one final farewell—andan apology or