I tell this to the Thursday night Scrabble group as we sit in my living room, and Lorelei nods vigorously when I talk about the trouble we women face, trying to be heard. At that moment her husband is certainly not listening to us because he’s too busy studying his Scrabble tiles. Larry has never been a great listener anyway. Maybe it’s because he thinks I have so little of importance to say. I watch him stare at his tiles, his eyes narrowed, his miserly lips pursed as though to deliver the sourest of kisses. He knows he’s clever, but just because he beats me all the time at Scrabble doesn’t mean I’m not worth listening to. He may have a master’s degree in English, but I have a life degree in motherhood, which comes with eyes in the back of my head. Something that a dictionary snob like Larry Leopold will never appreciate.
At least Jonas is listening to Lorelei and me. He’s just taken his turn and he put down his tiles to spell out river, which is a pretty clever way to dispose of a v, so now he can fully focus on me. Maybe he’s too focused; he’s leaning so close I can smell the Ecco Domani wine on his breath.
“I think we men miss out if we ignore women,” Jonas says. “I always listen to what the ladies say.”
Larry snorts. “I wonder why.”
“Think of how much wisdom goes unheard when we don’t listen.”
“Sexual.”
I frown at Larry. “What?”
“Six letters. Got rid of my x.”
I look down at the Scrabble board, where Larry has just set down his tiles. So it’s going to be that kind of night.
“As for words of wisdom,” says Larry, picking up a fresh set of tiles, “I prefer to hear opinions from informed sources.”
“Are you saying I’m not informed?” I ask him.
“I’m saying that people place too much emphasis on instinct. On gut feelings. That’s how we get into trouble, relying on the most primitive parts of our brains.”
“I disagree with that and let me tell you why,” says Jonas. “It goes back to when I was on active duty as a Navy SEAL.”
“Of course.”
“And keen instincts saved my life. It was during Operation Desert Shield, and my SEAL team was right off the Kuwaiti coast, planting explosives. I could sense this little fishing boat coming toward us wasn’t what it seemed.”
“Jonas,” said Larry, “We’ve all heard that story.”
“Well, I never get tired of hearing it,” says Lorelei. “Just because you never served, Larry, doesn’t mean you should be disrespectful of another man’s service.”
“Thank you,” says Jonas, gallantly tipping his head. There’s a moment there, a look between them, that rattles me. Jonas and Lorelei? No, not possible. He has eyes only for me, or so I thought, and even though I’m not interested in him, it’s still a thrill to think I’ve got what it takes. What does Lorelei have that could possibly be alluring to a man like Jonas? She may be thinner than I am, a skin-and-bones type of thinness which might be fashionable, but it makes me think of a naked baby bird.
“Are you going to take your turn or aren’t you, Angela?” says Larry.
I tear my gaze from Jonas and Lorelei and look at my seven tiles. I’ve drawn a variety of letters, but my brain can’t seem to rearrange them in any usable order. All it sees is cat and rat and had. Words that will only reinforce Larry’s poor opinion of my intelligence. But I can’t come up with anything better, so cat it is. I glare at Larry, expecting him to say something denigrating, but he just shakes his head and sighs.
Lorelei puts down rock, which isn’t bad, even if it’s not Larry-worthy, and she says to me: “So what are the Greens up to? Did Jane tell you anything?”
“All she says is I’m not allowed to go near those people or Revere PD will come after me.”
“That sounds like an exaggeration,” says Larry.
“It’s not. It’s exactly what my daughter said. The Greens are off-limits to me, even though that man has a gun. Even though there’s clearly something not right about them.” I look at Jonas. “Don’t you think? You live right next door to them.”
Jonas shrugs. “I hardly see ’em. They always keep their blinds down.”
“Exactly. Which tells me they’re hiding something. Obviously Revere PD knows more about them than they’re letting on. I have a feeling they’re connected to the white van that keeps coming around.”
“What white van?” Lorelei asks.