Page 40 - It Ends with Us
P. 40

“It’s  onesie  day,”  he  slurs  int o  the  pho ne .  “You  knew   tha t  when    you

                dropped  us off, Issa. Free  beer  unt il . . .”
                    She  groans . “Put my brother  on  the  pho ne. ”
                    “Fine,    fine, ”   Marsha ll    mumbles .     There’ s    a   rustling    sound    tha t
                comes  from the  pho ne,  and  then,  “Yea h?”
                    Allysa  spits  out  our  location  int o  the     pho ne.   “Get   here   right   no w.
                Plea se.  And  bring  a bag of ice.”

                    “Yes    ma’ am ,”   he   says.   The   brother   sounds   like   he   may   be   a   little
                drunk ,  too.  There’ s  laught er,  and   then  one  of  the  guys  says,  “She ’s  in  a
                bad  mood,” and  then  the  line  goes  dea d.
                    Allysa  puts  her    pho ne  back  in  her    pocket .  “I’ll  go  wait  outside  for
                them,  they ’re  just down  the  street . Wi ll you be  okay here?”
                    I  no d  and   rea ch  for  the  cha ir.  “Maybe  I  sho uld  just  try  to  walk  on
                it.”

                    Allysa  pushes   my  sho ulders   back  unt il  I’m  lea ni ng   agains t  the  wall
                again.  “No, don’t move.  Wait unt il they  get  here,  okay?”
                    I  ha ve  no   idea   wha t  two  drunk en    guys  are   going   to  be  able  to  do
                for me,  but I no d. My new  em ployee  feel s more  like  my boss right  no w
                and  I’m kind  of scared  of her  at the  moment .
                    I   wait   in   the   back   for   about   ten   minu tes    when   I   fina lly   hea r   the

                front   door  to  the    building   open.   “Wha t  in  the     world?”  a  man’s  voice
                says. “Why  are  you all alone  in  thi s creep y building ?”
                    I  hea r  Allysa  say,  “She’s  back  here. ”  She  walks  in,   followed   by  a  guy
                wea ring   a  ones ie.   He’s  tall,  a  little   bit  on   the   thi n   side,   but  boyishl y
                ha nd some  with  big,  ho nes t  eyes   and   a  hea d  full  of  dark,  mes sy,  way-
                past-due- for-a-ha ircut ha ir. He’s ho lding  a bag of ice.
                    Did  I mention he  was  wear ing a  onesie?

                    I’m talking  a leg it, full-grown  man  in  a Spong eB ob ones ie.
                    “Thi s is your hu sband ?” I ask her, cocking  an  ey eb row.
                    Allysa   rolls   her   ey es .   “Unf ortuna tel y,”   she   says,   glanc ing    back   at
                hi m.   Ano ther    guy   (also   in   a   ones ie)    walks   in   behi nd    the m,   but   my
                attent ion  is  on  Allysa  as  she  explains   why   they ’re  wea ring   pajamas  on
                a  rand om  Wed nes day  afterno on.   “There’ s  a  bar  down  the           street   tha t

                gives    out   free   beer   to   any one   who    sho ws   up   in   a   ones ie   during    a
                Bruins    game. ”    She   makes    he r   way   over   to   me   and    motions    for   the
                guys  to  follow  her.  “She  fel l  off  the  cha ir  and   hu rt  her  ank le, ”  she  says
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