She smiled, she said, “I did.”
* * *
—
Earlier, it was one of those good nights, too, because Mrs. Chilman opened her window. She called out to them, and up.
“Hey, Dunbar boys.”
Henry had called back first. “Mrs. Chilman! Thanks for patching us up the other night.” Then he went to work. “Hey, I like your curlers there.”
“Shut up, Henry,” but she was smiling, those wrinkles at work as well.
Both boys now stood and walked closer.
They crouched at the side of the house.
“Hey, Henry?” Mrs. Chilman asked, and it was all a bit of fun. Henry knew what was coming. Whenever Mrs. Chilman looked up like this, it was to ask for a book, from his collections every weekend. She loved romance, crime, and horror—the lower the brow, the better. “You got something for me?”
He mocked. “Do I have something for you? What-a-y’ think? How does The Corpse of Jack the Ripper sound?”
“Got it already.”
“The Man She Hid Downstairs?”
“That was my husband—they never found the body.”
(Both boys laughed—she’d been a widow since before they knew her; she joked about it now.)
“All right, Mrs. Chilman, shit, you’re a tough customer! How about The Soul Snatcher? That one’s a bloody beauty.”
“Done.” She smiled. “How much?”
“Oh, come on, Mrs. Chilman, let’s not play that game. How about we do the usual?” He gave Clay a quick flick of the eyes. “Let’s just say I give it to you gratis.”
“Gratis?” She was peering up now, contemplating. “What’s that, German, is it?”
Henry roared.
* * *
—
When they did lie down, she recalled the race.
“But I lost,” she said, “I blew it.”
Race Three.
The Lantern Winery Stakes.
1,200-meters and her mount was called The Gunslinger, and they missed the start terribly, and Carey brought him back. She weaved her way through the traffic and took him home—and Clay watched in perfect silence when the field had hit the straight; a riot of passing hoofbeats, and the eyes and the color and the blood. And the thought of Carey amongst it.
The only problem came in the last furlong when she veered too close to the second-placegetter, Pump Up the Jam—seriously, what a name—and the win was taken off her.
“My first time in front of the stewards,” she said.
Her voice against his neck.