Hit and Nun (13 page)

Lucille went into the powder room to wash her hands. She looked in the mirror. What if she did have cancer and had to have one of them operations? She lifted up her blouse and stared at her reflection. Would Frankie mind if she didn’t look like a woman no more? Would he go looking for someone else?

Lucille sighed and tucked her shirt back in. She had to get busy and think about something else or she would drive herself crazy. She should be hearing from the doctor’s office any day now. She prayed it would be good news.

• • •

Lucille woke on Saturday morning after a troubled night of tossing and turning. She wished the doctor’s office would hurry up already with the results of her mammogram. Nowadays they had tests that could tell if you were pregnant before you even rolled over to go to sleep, surely they could tell if she had cancer or not?

She pictured rogue cells running around in her body gobbling up the good cells—sort of like that Pac-Man game Frankie used to like to play in the arcade on the boardwalk at Seaside Heights.

If she didn’t do something to take her mind off things, she would go crazy. Frankie had a job—one of them big houses in Summit had suddenly been overrun with stink bugs and the owners were in a panic, so he was going to be gone most of the day. Lucille decided she would give the house a thorough cleaning. It had been too long since she’d scrubbed the baseboards and dusted the ceilings.

She dug around in her drawer for some old clothes to put on and found the T-shirt she’d gotten at Rocky’s. That would do. She pulled it over her head. There was still a bit of a stain on the front from some tomato sauce that hadn’t come out in the wash, but it didn’t matter. No one was going to see her.

Lucille got out her bucket and her scrub brush. She poked around under the sink and pulled out her box of Spic and Span. She gave it a shake. Nearly empty. Rats. She’d have to make a trip to the A&P. She’d tried a couple of other products, but nothing ever worked quite as well. It wouldn’t be long before little Lucy was crawling, and she wanted everything to be as clean as she could get it.

Lucille thought of changing her shirt but figured what the heck. She was only going to run in and out of the store. Odds were good she wouldn’t see anyone she knew.

She threw her leather jacket on over the T-shirt and headed out to the Olds. She started on the first try, and Lucille patted the dashboard affectionately. But when she plugged in her tape of Little Richard’s “Lucille,” it got stuck after the first couple of bars, repeating
Lucille
over and over and over again. Lucille pushed the eject button with a sigh. Would she be able to find a replacement? No one had tape decks no more—it was all CDs and iPods and cell phones that played music and did just about everything else except make dinner. Sometimes she felt as if life had passed her by. While she was busy cooking, cleaning and raising a family, the world had changed without her knowing it.

The A&P parking lot was bustling—Lucille had to go all the way to the back to find a space. There were going to be long lines at the cashiers, but at least she could go through the express lane.

Lucille headed down the cleaning aisle searching the shelves until she found the boxes of Spic and Span. She tossed one in her cart and began wheeling it toward the checkout. There was a display of vanilla sandwich cookies—the kind Frankie liked—on the end cap, so she grabbed a package of those and added them to her purchase.

There were at least ten people in the express line so Lucille selected a copy of
Us
magazine and began flipping through the pages. She was engrossed in a story about the Kardashians when the fellow behind her cleared his throat.

Lucille turned around. He was a youngish man with an unruly beard and a Yankees baseball cap. Lucille thought he looked like he could use a decent meal. His clothes were worn and hung off him like they once belonged to someone much bigger. He had a six-pack of beer in his cart.

He pointed at Lucille’s T-shirt.

She looked down. She’d forgotten she was wearing her Rocky’s shirt.

“That girl Nicole still working there?”

“Yeah.” Lucille turned her back to him, but he tapped her on the shoulder.

“She owes me money, you know.” He rubbed a hand across his nose and sniffed.

Lucille didn’t know what to say. She glanced toward the clerk, who was ringing someone up who definitely had more than twelve items. Not that Lucille would ever say anything. She hated people who did that—who appointed them the express lane police anyway?

“I helped her pull off that trick we played on old Rocky there.” He pointed at Lucille’s shirt again.

“Trick?” Lucille’s ears perked up.

He leaned closer to Lucille, and she could smell alcohol on his breath. “I’m the one who found that roach in the pizza, the one that nearly put Rocky out of business.” He looked real proud.

“That must have been a shock.” Lucille knew she would be shocked if she found a bug in her food. It was bad enough during the summer when she and Frankie would eat outside on the patio and mosquitoes sometimes drowned themselves in her glass of iced tea.

The fellow shook his head. “No, I knew all about it.”

“All about what?”

“The roach.”

Lucille was beginning to suspect that with this guy the elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor, so to speak.

“Really?”

He nodded and leaned closer to Lucille. “I put it there.”

“You put what where?” Now she was really confused.

“I put the roach in the pizza.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

He looked at Lucille like she was the slow kid in class. “For the money.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You put the roach in the pizza for money, right?”

He tapped his nose. “On the nose.”

“So who was paying you?”

“Nicole,” he said triumphantly.

“Why would she pay you to put a roach in the pizza where she works? That don’t make no sense.”

“Because that other gal was paying her. And we were going to share the money.”

Lucille was beginning to think this guy really was off his rocker. “What other gal?”

“The one who runs Sal’s Pizza. Who did you think I meant?”

“You mean Tiffany paid Nicole to fix things so that you found a roach in your pizza?”

He shrugged. “Is that her name?”

“Yeah. She and her husband own Sal’s Pizzeria.”

“Well, Tiffany arranged the whole thing with Nicole. Me and Nicole used to be in AA together.”

Lucille glanced into his cart and raised an eyebrow but didn’t say nothing. Who was she to criticize? She couldn’t stand those holier-than-thou types who were always trying to tell you what to do and what not to do. Her sister Angela came to mind, and she quickly pushed the thought away and sent up a prayer to the Archangel Michael, protector from unwanted thoughts.

“So Nicole hired you to pretend you found a roach in your piece of pizza?”

“I didn’t pretend. I actually did find a roach.”

“Yeah, but you put it there in the first place, right?”

He nodded. “Nicole gave it to me. Had it in an empty matchbox.”

“And all this was arranged by Tiffany Zambino?”

He shrugged. “I guess so. All I know is that Nicole promised to pay me, but she didn’t. She was supposed to get money from the lady at Sal’s Pizza, and we were going to split it.”

“Did you?”

“Nah. She said Tiffany never paid her, but I don’t believe it. I think she wanted all the money for herself.”

Lucille didn’t know what to say.

He leaned real close to Lucille so that she could see the two hairs that sprouted from one of the pores on the top of his nose.

“I think I’m going to pay Nicole a visit,” he said. His tone had changed completely from that of a confused young man to something far more sinister. “She owes me.”

Lucille opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“And I’m going to make sure she pays up.” He shook his clenched fist in Lucille’s face. “Or else.”

Lucille hurried out of the A&P with her purchases. That fellow had given her what her mother always called the heebie-jeebies. It was a creepy feeling—like the hair on the back of your neck was standing up and goose bumps were marching up and down your arms. Lucille shivered.

She was glad to lock herself in the Olds. She put the key in the ignition and was relieved when she started right up. This was no time to be stuck in the parking lot at the A&P. Not with that nutter on the loose.

Nutter. That put her in mind of one of them cookies—a Nutter Butter. She sure could go for one of them right now. But would they be on her diet? She was pretty sure peanuts were okay—after all, they grew on bushes and that was exactly the sort of stuff the cavemen ate. The cavewomen picked nuts and berries while the men were out hunting for wild animals, and when they didn’t catch any—like when she sent Frankie to the store and he forgot the most important things on the list—they would make do with some peanuts. She wasn’t so sure about some of the other ingredients though. Besides, there was no way she was going back into the A&P with that weirdo in there.

He’d been pretty pissed off at Nicole. What a story—Tiffany paying Nicole to find someone to claim he found a roach in a piece of Rocky’s pizza. Well, he did find a roach, but only on account of he put it there himself.

He’d said he was going to make sure Nicole paid up. The look on his face had frightened Lucille, mean and threatening like. Should she go warn Nicole? She’d better—she didn’t want to wake up tomorrow morning and read in the
Star-Ledger
that Nicole was dead on account of some nutter had come after her claiming she owed him money.

Lucille put the Olds in gear, backed out of her space and turned right out of the parking lot. Rocky’s Pizzeria was only a few doors away. She owed it to Nicole to warn her.

Lucille found a space for the Olds, locked it and headed around the front of the building to the entrance to Rocky’s Pizza Parlor. She prayed that she wouldn’t run into Rocky, or if she did, that he wouldn’t recognize her, but with Nicole’s life possibly at stake, she would just have to endure the embarrassment.

The restaurant was empty when Lucille pushed open the door. Nicole was busy putting salt and pepper shakers out on the tables. She looked up when she heard the door.

“Oh, it’s you. What do you want?” She turned her back on Lucille and continued what she was doing.

“I need to tell you something,” Lucille said, looking around. She didn’t see no signs of Rocky, which was good.

“Well, tell me. I’m listening.” Nicole picked up her empty tray and began heading toward the kitchen.

“I ran into this guy in the A&P just now, and he ain’t too happy with you. He claims he’s coming after you to get the money you owe him.”

Nicole stopped short and spun around.

“What guy? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s the guy you got to put the roach in his pizza.”

Nicole’s face turned white. “What did he say?”

“He said Tiffany Zambino was supposed to pay you, and you were supposed to split the money with him, but you didn’t. And he’s really pissed off.”

“Do you mind if we step outside? I could do with a smoke.”

“Sure.”

Lucille followed Nicole through the kitchen and out the back door. Nicole dug around in the pocket of her apron and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. She lit one and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She opened them and looked at Lucille.

“Why are you poking your nose into things that aren’t any of your business?” She blew out a puff of smoke.

Lucille waved a hand in front of her face. That was fine for Nicole to act all pissed off—didn’t she realize that Lucille only wanted to warn her?

“I thought you should know that this guy was threatening to come after you. I didn’t want nothing to happen to you.”

“How nice of you,” Nicole said in a snippy tone. “But now that you’ve told me you can stop worrying about it, okay? Just forget all about it.”

“So is it true that Tiffany paid you to get that guy to pretend he’d found a roach in his slice?”

“Tiffany had big dreams.” Nicole looked bitter. “More power to her, I say. She thought if she put Rocky out of business, she could expand hers. She had this idea about opening a chain of pizza places.”

“And she promised to pay you?”

Nicole dropped her cigarette on the pavement and ground it out under her heel. “Yeah, she promised to pay me. I needed a down payment for a new car since mine had crapped out. It seemed like easy money and right when I needed it.”

“You must have been pretty mad when Tiffany stiffed you.”

Nicole shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Did you decide to do something about it?”

Nicole’s head whirled around. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. Only that Tiffany just turned up dead.”

“You can’t think that I had anything to do with it.” Nicole pushed past Lucille and reached for the door handle.

“Then how come one of Tiffany’s neighbors saw you leaving her house not long before we found her body? She recognized your tattoo.” Lucille pointed to the cross that was just visible beneath the sleeve of Nicole’s T-shirt.

“Look, don’t go thinking you can pin anything on me. I stopped by to see Tiffany, but when I rang the bell, no one answered.”

“You can see how that wouldn’t look none too good if the police found out.”

“Yeah?” Nicole sneered at Lucille. “While you’re telling them that, tell them that I saw a car pulling out of the driveway as I was coming down the street.”

• • •

Lucille had just walked into the house when the telephone rang. She put her purse on the chair and grabbed the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Lucille, is that you?”

“Yeah, Ma, it’s me.”
Who else would it be?
Lucille thought as she wound the phone cord around her finger.

“I’ve got a small problem.”

“What’s that, Ma?” Lucille groaned. Her mother defined small as blowing up her pressure cooker and spattering berries all over the kitchen, making it look like the set in a horror movie. It had taken Lucille and Frankie a whole day to clean the place up.