Chapter 6: Rodeo Drive

Carlton came back at sunrise with a paper bag and a face.

"I bought you a present," he said.

"At five in the morning?"

"There's a twenty-four-hour hardware store in Glendale."

He set the bag on my kitchen counter.

Inside was a wicker basket for the Schwinn, a chrome bell that matched, and a receipt for sixty-one dollars and forty cents.

"It's not much," he said. "I got it in cash. Vera's office won't see it."

"That's the point, Carlton. Vera's office is supposed to see it."

"Right." He looked at the receipt. "I got excited."

I took the basket out and held it against my chest.

It was a really nice basket.

"Thank you," I said. "I love it."

He grinned.

I kissed him in my kitchen in my underwear.

Then I pushed him toward the shower and told him we had a job to do.

By ten we were standing on Rodeo Drive.

I wore my one good dress, which I'd bought at a church sale in Pasadena for eight dollars.

Carlton wore his suit and an expression of deep dread.

"Every store has a doorman," he said. "They're going to look at your shoes."

"My shoes are great."

"They have a hole."

"It's a small hole."

The first boutique was white and silent, with one handbag in the window.

A saleswoman in black glided toward us.

She looked at me, at Carlton, at me again, and at my tote bag, which said Pennock Surplus Sale, 70% Off.

I'd gotten it free at a flea market.

"Welcome," she said. "May I help you?"

"I'd like a coat," I said.

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