Page 38 of Pickled
Lisa joined us. “Hi, Judith.”
“Lisa!” Mrs. Lockelhurst exclaimed. “I was wondering who gave Piper a ride home. No offense, dear, but I was hoping it was the new neighbor.”
“New neighbor?” Lisa raised her eyebrows.
I reached for Olive’s hand, hoping to cut the conversation before it continued. “Nope, it’s just Lisa.”
Mrs. L’s perfectly facelifted eyes shot to me. “Oh, I see that you got the envelope that was stuck to the door. What was in it?” She pointed to the envelope still in Lisa’s possession.
“Hockey tickets,” Lisa said. “Do you know who left them? Mr. L said that the camera couldn’t pick up much. There was no note, just Piper’s name written on the front.” Lisa presented the envelope to Mrs. L. “It’s a mystery.”
Mrs. Lockelhurst’s smile turned mischievous. “You’re not a very good detective, Lisa. It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that our handsome new neighbor plays for the Miami Barracuda.”
Olive had returned to petting Penney, oblivious to the conversation between her mom, her meddling friend, and her ultra-meddling boss.
Lisa inhaled sharply. She glanced at Olive and leaned in to me. “You’re going to that game.” Her voice was a whisper.
“Of course you’re going to the game.” Mrs. L grinned. “Olive, do you like hockey?”
My daughter’s long brown ringlets whipped her cheeks as she shook her head. “No. I’d rather go swimming with Gabby. Or back to the courts. Pickleball is super fun.”
“It sure is.” Mrs. L grinned and then returned her attention to me. “I’m glad you finally got her out to play.”
“Do you want the tickets?” I handed them to Mrs. L. “Olive and I haven’t been able to spend much time together. I’d rather watchPaw Patrolwith my girl than some grown men chase around a piece of rubber.”
The death stare from Lisa was the worst she’d ever given me. Mrs. Lockelhurst pursed her lips and, if I didn’t know better, shot me a look of disappointment. “If you’re not going to go, I’m sure that Keith and I can make a date night out of it. I wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”
I thrust the envelope into her hand, the tickets crumpling against her five-carat emerald ring band. She tilted her head and looked from me to Lisa, then slipped the tickets into the pocket of her caftan. “How’s Keith’s anklereallydoing?” she asked Lisa.
“It’sreallydoing great,” Lisa said. “Tell him to keep up with his exercises.”
Mrs. L reached down to scoop up Penney. “He does them every morning, although sometimes we modify them if the Viagra is still working.” She winked. “Have a good night.”
“Is Viagra an ankle exercise?” Olive slipped her sweaty hand into mine.
I didn’t know what to say. Luckily, Lisa interjected. “It sure is. But I’m not supposed to talk about my patients, so you’ll have to promise me that you’ll keep Mr. L’s treatment information top secret, or else I’ll get in trouble.”
“This is a secret that’s okay to keep,” I added. Olive and I had had a few talks about keeping secrets, and our rule was that she had to check with me first.
Her eyes were wide. “I don’t want to get you in trouble, Mrs. Chen.”
“I know, Olive.” Lisa squeezed her shoulder and changed the subject. “It was so nice spending today with you. You’re a great little pickler.”
The smile that spread across Olive’s face both warmed and broke my heart. Olive was a natural; her hand-eye coordination was well above the rest of the kids her age. Even with the membership to the Azalea Bay Club, the racket sports and camps were way out of my price range.
“Thank you, Lisa. I love pickling.”
“Yes. Thank you, Lisa.” I turned and wrapped my friend in a surprise hug. She relaxed and hugged me back.
“A hockey player?” she whispered in my ear. “We need to talk.”
“Tomorrow.” I released her from my arms. “We can catch up tomorrow.”
When Lisa left, I thought the hockey game discussion went with her. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
13
GIDEON
