by Gina LaManna
Of course he thought it was great. I’d bet that as a prisoner, Oleg would’ve said anything was great, including a dry, hard, year-old fruitcake. Which was about as far from great as I could imagine.
“You’ve come to the right girl for your project.” Nora beamed from ear to ear. “It’s time to put my baby into effect. I’m going to organize an all-company meeting tomorrow. We’ll all take the test, everyone in the house. Be there, Lacey. Ten a.m. It’s required.”
“I really don’t think Carlos will agree to this.”
Nora raised her eyebrow with a knowing smirk. “You don’t?”
I paused. If even Carlos didn’t argue with his wife, why should I?
“That sounds wonderful,” I said. “You’re not going to tell him I asked you to do it, are you?”
“Of course not. You didn’t ask me to do anything! I’ve been meaning to get this examination set up for a while, and now you’ve given me the perfect excuse. I’ll give you the list of employees after, since I need someone to dig it up for me.” Nora shook her head in disapproval as we approached the kitchen. “I sometimes think The Google hides items from me. Lists, and other things.”
“Other things?”
“Notes, coupons, emails, documents.” Nora tsked. “The whole thing is dishonest, if you ask me. That’s why I was looking for my warranty. I don’t think I want The Google any longer.”
I didn’t point out the potential that Nora’s issues could stem from user error. Joining the fight between Nora and The Google just wasn’t worth it. There were no winners in this battle.
We’d reached the kitchen by now, a few voices filtering through the heavy wooden door.
“Are you expecting company?” I asked.
Nora ignored me, bursting through the swinging door. “Oh, darlings, how are you?” My grandmother swooped over to her other grandchildren, planting huge, slobbery kisses on Marissa’s and Clarissa’s cheeks.
The two were somewhere between the ages of five and fifteen, difficult to tell exactly, since I didn’t have a ton of experience around kids that age. I swear, some days they looked like innocent little babies, and the next day they were dressing for prom.
“Ew,” Clarissa giggled, wiping away the spit from her cheek.
“Hi Lacey, how’s your boyfriend?” Marissa asked.
“What boyfriend?” I feigned surprise, waiting to see if they were just poking fun, or if they were actually in the know about Anthony and me.
“You have more than one?” Clarissa looked up from the laptop screen in front of her. “Are you a player, Lacey?”
“No, it’s a playa,” Marissa corrected her sister. “Without the ‘r.’ Jeesh.”
“I am neither a player nor a playa. I have one boyfriend, which is plenty.” I glanced away from Nora, hoping she didn’t jump into the conversation with her two cents. “What are you girls up to?”
Both of them shrugged, turning back to the computer screen. Dressed in school uniforms, they resembled twins instead of half-sisters, their navy blue tops and plaid bottoms reminding me of the days when my mom and I had lived next to a private school.
We’d never been able to afford the tuition, but I had envied the uniforms. Wearing knee high socks and looking just like the other kids sounded nice. Or, at least, better than the alternative, which was what I’d had to deal with – kids making fun of the hole in my sock or last season’s sweatshirt that I’d picked out at the local Goodwill. Kids could be mean.
“We’re getting reading for show and tell for our class project,” Marissa said, pointing to the computer screen. “Wanna see what we’re bringing?”
I peeked over their shoulders. A row of mug shots from various family members lined the website. I sucked in a breath. “Girls, you can’t bring that to school for show and tell.”
“Yes we can.” Clarissa crossed her arms. “We have to. What else can I possibly bring? It’s not like we went to Mexico for vacation like Sarah Landers.”
“Yeah, and we didn’t get a dog like Margie Maples,” Marissa added.
“So, we had to be creative.” Clarissa smiled, pointing to the screen. “Look, it’s Uncle Lorenzo. Good picture, I think.”
I glanced at three rows of Uncle Lorenzo’s mug shots staring back at me. He’d clearly been busy being up to no good. “Let’s find something...” I trailed off, suddenly distracted by the logo on the girls’ shirts. I pointed at the insignia. “Wait a minute. What is that?”
Marissa looked down at her shirt where an illustration of a bird perched just above her heart. “It’s a Toucan.”
“We’re the Toucans. It’s our school logo.” Clarissa pointed to her own sweater, where the same image was proudly displayed. “Let’s go Toucans!”
I glanced towards Nora. “Did my mom go to this school by chance?”
Nora shook her head. “None of our kids went to private school, dear. But they did go to the public school across the street.”
I froze.
This wasn’t the first time I’d seen the image of the Toucan in the last twenty-four hours. The pin I’d found in my mother’s things had displayed the same insignia. Go Toucans! screamed the slogan on the button. Go, Fight, Win!
Suddenly, show and tell in Toucan Territory didn’t seem so bad. I raised a finger as if a light bulb had gone off in my head. “Girls, I have something better for show and tell than a mug shot. Would you like me to come to your school?”
“What is it?” The faux twins asked in sync. Marissa continued singlehandedly. “You can come tomorrow, but only if you promise you’ll wow our class. We have to beat out Billy this time.”
“It’s a surprise,” I said. “But I promise it will blow your mind.”
Chapter 8
MY DATE WITH A BUNCH of munchkins had been secured before I’d left the estate. Now, I just needed to find something that would blow the minds of a bunch of kids tomorrow after lunch.
“Anything, how do you not have anything?” I asked, digging through a stack of Clay’s discarded inventions in the living room.
“I have stuff,” Clay said. “Just not stuff I want to share with kids. My cutting edge technology is not built to be snot-resistant. ”
“You build toys, Clay. You built sunglasses that reflect your own eyeballs. Speaking of useless inventions, that laying desk over there is taking up precious space in this living room. You should get rid of it – the thing is dangerous.” A sudden, traumatic flashback of Anthony lifting me out of the contraption caused me to shudder.
“When one of my inventions hits it big, you’ll be changing your tune.” Clay shook his head. “You’re going to be asking me for money left and right.”
“Not true,” I said. “I already ask you for money left and right, so technically I wouldn’t be changing my tune.”
Clay paused, unable to come up with a retort. “You’re right,” he said, sounding amazed. “You’re finally right.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” I picked up a stack of books. “Don’t you have a vaporizing laser or something? I need a wow factor, Clay.”
“Why do you care so much?” Clay asked. “It’s just show and tell. Bring a...I don’t know, bring cookies or something.”
“I’ve always cared about the youth of America.”
“Right,” Clay said. “That’s why you keep all the candy on Halloween and pass out apples and carrots.”
“I’m doing the children a favor. I’m sacrificing the health of my own teeth for the sake of theirs.”
Clay rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you take Tupac the Cat? Kids like animals.”
“I can’t find him right now.” I shrugged. “I don’t understand, I’m the one who feeds him, yet he hides the second I come home.”
“Don’t worry about it too much, I hide when you come home, too. And you don’t even feed me.”
“How about this?” I held up a stuffed bear that’d been given the Clay-treatment. That meant the poor doll had been subjected to experimentation and come
away with eyeballs that glowed in the dark.
“Nah, that might give them nightmares.” Clay barely looked up from his computer, his new friend Veronica perched right next to him.
“What are you doing with her anyway?” I nodded at the mannequin.
“None of your business.”
“For all intents and purposes, you appear to be dating a dummy.”
“We’re not dating,” Clay growled. “It’s casual. I’m just using her for measurements.”
“That sounds gross.”
“It’s not like that!”
“What is it like then?” I put a hand on my hip. “Either talk to me about the new woman in your life, or help me find an item for show and tell.”
When Clay didn’t respond, I sighed deeply and poked around the room, discarding a deck of cards that, according to Clay, could read your mind. I looked through a pair of binoculars that allowed me to see an ant hiking up a blade of grass from two miles away, and I passed on a microphone that translated my words into gerbil-speak.
During the whole process, I eased my way around the room until I ended up behind Clay’s computer. He was so engrossed typing away on the keyboard that he didn’t notice my presence until I leapt up behind him and pointed at the screen, shouting Aha!
“What the hell, Lacey?” Clay flinched so violently, his computer nearly crashed from its stand. Luckily, he caught it just in time.
He didn’t manage to minimize the image onscreen, however.
“Why are you looking at bras?” I asked, a hint of disappointment creeping into my voice. All this buildup, and I’d expected it to be some cutting edge technology, top secret weapon, or information on high-profile figures. I could get the Victoria’s Secret catalogue any old day. “Bor-ing.”
Clay’s cheeks shone like a used Christmas tree bulb – red, splotchy, and on the verge of exploding at any point. “What are you doing?”
“Living in my apartment.”
Clay closed his eyes, taking long, slow breaths.
“What, I can’t walk where I want?” I strolled around the edges of the living room, perching on the cusp of the laying desk, being very, very, careful not to get myself trapped inside.
The last time I’d tested it out had ended in an awkward experience, one in which I’d had to call Anthony and beg him to rescue me from its death grip before I lost all oxygen to my brain. But it’d turned out okay. I remained alive and Anthony got a butt squeeze. We both won.
“It’s not what you think,” Clay said. “I’m looking at these...these things for a friend.”
“You can say the word bra, Clay. And yeah, right. That’s what they all say.” I gave him a wink. “It’s okay to tell me the truth, I don’t judge. Who is this friend?”
Clay’s ears looked on the verge of exploding into flames. I watched the war on his face, as he battled between wanting to justify his actions and keeping his mission a secret.
I knew Clay wasn’t shopping for himself – at least, I was pretty sure he wasn’t into ladies lingerie. But as I happened to be a nosy person, I wanted – scratch that, I needed – to know what he’d been up to lately. He’d been spending a lot of time online with his buddy Horatio, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what the two were planning.
“Shouldn’t you be focusing on your assignment and not what I do in my free time?” Clay narrowed his eyes in my direction.
“How do you people find out these things?” I threw my arms in the air. “How do you know about the assignment?”
“I figured Carlos was trying to get in touch with you when he crashed into your car. He doesn’t usually do things like that just to say hello, no matter how crazy the man is.”
“Were you following me? How do you know about that?”
“No, I wasn’t following you.”
I crossed my arms. “I can’t talk about it.”
“Neither can I.” Clay shrugged. “You don’t give me information, I don’t give you information.”
“Listen, I can’t talk about it,” I clarified. “You won’t.”
“Let’s trade information. You tell me what Carlos wants, and I’ll tell you what I’m building with Veronica.”
“I can’t.”
“I’m going to find out anyway,” Clay said.
“Then find out. I can’t tell you.” I leaned against the window, meeting my cousin’s gaze until he looked away first. “I’m not lying, I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“You’re telling me you haven’t told Anthony or Meg?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” I massaged my forehead, where I could feel a headache coming on. “And I’m not happy about it. This secrecy clause is making everyone mad at me. I didn’t think you’d get mad at me, too.”
Clay’s stern expression softened. “I’m sorry, I know how he can be. I’m not mad at you.”
“You understand I can’t tell you, even if I want to?” I asked, my eyes begging him to understand.
“I understand.”
“So why don’t you tell me what you’re working on?”
“Nope, not a fair trade.” Clay shook his head. “Give me a vague hint about the assignment, and I’ll tell you.”
I bit my lip. “Fine.”
Clay’s eyes brightened. “Really?”
There was nothing my cousin loved more than a whiff of a new problem, especially one begging for a new piece of technology to help solve a mystery. I blinked. “Really, truly. You go first.”
Clay paused, his hand hovering over his beloved mouse. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Do I ever?”
Clay didn’t bother to respond.
“I won’t laugh,” I said quickly. “I’m just interested in your life.”
“No, you’re just nosy.” Clay clicked his mouse, punctuating his point. A huge – and I mean huge – bra popped up on screen. “But that’s okay. I am, too. Runs in the family, that’s why we get along.”
“Wowzers...that is a, uh, large project.” I leaned over his shoulder. “But I’m not understanding what use you have for it.”
“It’s not for me.” Clay lowered his voice, speaking with the same reverence he used when talking about any of his inventions. “It’s a gift.”
“For who?” I asked.
“Nobody you know.” Clay’s ears reddened.
“Okay, but what does it do? Please tell me it shoots darts.”
Clay’s back straightened. “It doesn’t, but that’s a great idea.”
I smiled. “I’m full of them. Loop me in more during the earlier stages of your inventions, and I can help you during the planning process. You know, before you nearly explode me.”
“That was one time.”
“So what does this do?” I pointed to the screen. “And do they come in my size?”
“Ew,” Clay said. “I’m not making a bulletproof bra for my cousin. I’d have to like...measure you. Disgusting.”
“Bulletproof bra?”
“Yeah.”
“Who needs a bulletproof bra?”
“My friend.” Clay looked at my skeptical expression. “What? It’s not like you couldn’t have used one a time or two.”
“I don’t understand. What about the rest of her body? What if the bad guys shot her in the chest? Or the head?”
Clay blinked. “Oh.”
“What you could do is extend it.” I gestured to the screen. “Make it bulletproof Spanx, like this.” I quickly Googled a picture of an under-the-dress slip. “Ladies might dig that.”
“You know, that’s not a terrible idea.” Clay said thoughtfully. “Extended coverage.”
“What color is it going to be?”
“I’m thinking blue.”
“Blue’s a nice color,” I agreed.
“Now that you know what I’m working on, tell me your hint,” Clay interrupted. “About the assignment.”
I closed one eye, thinking of the best way to say something, while still saying nothing at all. “I’m lo
oking for something or someone.”
“Really.” Clay’s tone was flat. “I’d never have guessed.”
“Hey, you asked for a hint.” I shrugged. “I’m looking for something. Or someone. That’s all you get, I’m sorry.”
“Does it have anything to do with this email I just received from Nora? She still doesn’t know how to send a group message, so she sent each person in the family a separate email.” Clay clicked over to his Gmail account. “The title is MANDATORY PERSONALITY ASS. All caps. I told her that sounds like shouting, but she never listens. And what the heck is a personality ass?”
“I think that should be assessment,” I said. “Probably, she shouldn’t have abbreviated right there.”
“You think?” Clay smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, by the way. My gut tells me this personality assessment has everything to do with your assignment. I’m showing up to this event, only to see what it’s all about. I don’t like you keeping secrets from me, Lacey Luzzi.”
“You keep all sorts of secrets from me,” I retorted. “Who’s your lady friend? Why the bulletproof bra? And for Pete’s sake, what the heck are you and Horatio doing on the Internet?”
At my last question, Clay stood up, nearly toppling the table over. He cracked his knuckles and moved towards the kitchen. I followed him, keeping close behind as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.
“Want one?” he asked, holding it out to me.
I shook my head.
“Good, because this is the last one, and you can’t have it.” He pulled the beer close to his chest, popped the top, and took a sip. “And the answer to all those questions is none of your business. I’m the master of secrets, cousin.”
“How come you get to know all my secrets?” I asked, noticing the smallest hint of a whine creeping into my voice. I did my best to banish it and be an adult. I was technically an adult, I had been for awhile. But sometimes, my inner kid took the wheel and booted me from the driver’s seat.
“Because I have to know your secrets, so I can rescue you when those same secrets get your ‘personality ass’ into trouble.” Clay shook his head. “That’s why this secret assignment makes me nervous. When you inevitably find yourself tied up, held at gunpoint, or any of the other number of scrapes you’ve been in recently, what am I supposed to do, sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”