Page 430 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

Meatballs sitting fat in red sauce.

Cutlets. Roasted peppers.

Cookie dough shaped, ready to be bake.

It’s Planet Plastic.

Red and blue poisonous death traps.

My hand tightens on the fridge handle.

“Okay,” I say. “Tiny update.”

Lisa groans.

I look over my shoulder.

“This might take me all night.”

Paola accepts defeat and turns toward the cabinet.

“Let me pour you a glass of wine.”

I start in Andrew’s bathroom, switching his three-in-one shampoo and mouthwash into glass bottles, slapping a sticky note across the shampoo:

Do not bring glass shampoo bottle in shower. You might break and cut your cute feetsies.

I replace his toothbrush with a bamboo one, toss the plastic shower liner, and stop right outside the door.

‘Cause his bedroom is right there.

Fifty-thousand dollars,

I hear Celie’s panic in my head.

I should check under the bed.

No… I really shouldn’t.

That would be crazy.

If Celie says there’s fifty grand there,

there’s fifty grand there.

So I drop the trash bag by the door,

then walk into his room casually.

Casually meaning: knees hitting the floor in under four seconds, cheek pressed to the rug, ass in the air as I look underneath.

There’s a shoebox. Just like Celie said.

I drag it out. Lift the lid slowly.

But there’s no cash.

None. It’s empty.