Page 101 of I Can't Even

“I know,” I said. “I was thinking about that. It was too risky to not get Babs back. I mean, if we called the cops and Courtney dumped her somewhere to avoid being caught with her then I wouldn’t be able to produce the urn and Paisley could take us to court and say I lost her and the entire estate would go to my rotten cousin.”

“Unfortunately, it also means that even though Paisley lost this round, I suspect she’s going to keep trying,” Liam said. “You and your sisters are going to have to be vigilant and loop your attorney in.”

“And we will,” I said. “But today, I am going to enjoy every glorious second of our victory.”

We arrived at the house shortly after that. Liam parked on the street, and we walked up the front walkway, hand in hand, noting that the front door was open.

My pace quickened. I didn’t think Paisley would harm my sisters, I mean she was greedy but not unstable, or so I had thought. We heard yelling just inside the door. I jogged into the house with Liam beside me.

Paisley stood in the center of the great room. Her choppy highlighted hair was wild as if she’d been tugging at it. Her dress looked rumpled, and the hem was frayed. She only had one shoe on, and it seemed as if all of her make-up, including her false eyelashes, were dripping off the end of her chin in a bid for escape.

Meanwhile Soph and Em were sitting at the table with Dante, Jessie, and the hippie turtle rescue guy whose name I didn’t know, wearing feathered boas and sparkly top hats, playing Cards Against Humanity with a big ol’ pitcher of margaritas in the middle of the table. Mr. Loren was also sitting there in his impeccable suit, although he did not appear to be playing cards. His laptop was open before him.

“Jules! Liam!” Em cried at the sight of us. “You’re just in time. Mr. Loren can’t play because he’s technically working and Paisley doesn’t want to, shocker, but this game is definitely a the more the merrier type, don’t you think? So join us!”

Liam let go of my hand and put it on my lower back as I sauntered by Paisley, cradling the urn.

“Sounds great!” I said. “Let’s be sure to deal Babs in, too, since I just had her polished.” Somehow, I managed to say that without cracking up.

Mr. Loren perked up at this. He put on a pair of reading glasses and held out his hands for Babs. I knew he wanted to verify that it was actually the original bedazzled urn with Babs’s ashes sealed inside. He looked it over, nodded, and returned it to me.

“Everything seems to be in order.” Mr. Loren closed the laptop and slid it into his bag. “Mr. Mahony, if you wouldn’t mind walking me out, I’d like to have a word with you.”

Liam looked at me in alarm and I shrugged.

“As far as I know, he’s never bitten anyone,” I said. Liam smiled.

“Okay, sure,” Liam said.

With that, Mr. Loren picked up his bag and led the way toward the door. He paused beside Paisley and said, “You’ll be receiving a bill for today’s meeting in the mail.”

And then he stepped outside with Liam behind him, closing the door after them.

Paisley’s face went pale, then blotchy, and then it was suffused with red like she was breaking out in hives. Not a good look on her.

“Where did you get that?” My awful cousin pointed at the urn.

“Get it?” I asked. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. I’ve had it with me the whole time.” Which was kind of true if you thought of space and time as fluid sorts of things.

“This. Isn’t. Over.” Paisley seethed.

I eyed her up and down. “Yes, it is. And now you need to leave our house and unless you are expressly invited, which you won’t be, I do not want to see you set foot in here ever again.”

Paisley stomped toward the entrance, hobbling given that she was wearing just one shoe, muttering the whole way. When she left, she slammed the door so hard it rattled on its hinges.

“Did you see her face?” Em cried. She stood up from the table and threw her arms around me. “That was epic.”

“Well done!” Soph said. Then she started singing, “Ding dong the witch is dead!”

Which naturally set off the others. The next thing I knew there was a conga line weaving through the house, led by Dante, who was carrying Babs’s urn, Jessie, Em, hippie-turtle guy, and Soph.

As they continued singing, Em made a take-a-picture gesture with her hands. I took several, tossing her my phone just as Soph grabbed my hand and yanked me into line.

When Liam reentered the house, we were working our way upstairs. I gestured for him to catch up, noting that he had a really weird expression on his face.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said.

---