Chapter 23: Give It Back

Pru's lasagna came out of the oven black at the corners and raw in the middle.

She set it on the table between the candles and stood back with her arms folded.

"It's an event," she said. "Nobody say anything."

Bram picked up his fork.

He cut a square from the raw middle, ate it, and chewed for a long time.

"It's very good," he said.

"You're a bad liar," I told him.

"I'm an excellent liar. I've been lying about this lasagna for four minutes."

Pru pointed her fork at him. "I'm going to keep you."

We ate the corners and the garlic bread.

Pru told the story of the night she and her partner delivered a baby in a taxi.

Bram laughed so hard he had to put his head down on the table.

I watched him do it.

Weeks before, he had stood at table six with a card in his hand and no smile at all.

I hadn't known he had one.

"How is Emmett?" he asked, when he could.

"Cooperating," said Pru. "The prosecutor says it's the best-documented crime family she's ever seen.

"She wants a deal for him. His lawyer thinks four years."

"Four?"

"For twelve years. He says that's fair."

Pru shrugged, but her eyes were bright.

"He said to tell Calla the cabin's hers if she ever wants it. I said she has a roommate with a bad lasagna."

I smiled at my plate.

Pru cleared the table and announced that she was going to watch a very loud documentary about sharks.

That left us on the sofa under the window, with the laundromat's lights shining blue on the wall.

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